Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Dead Sexy (Book Blitz #3)

~Book Blitz~
Dead Sexy
Second Endings Book 1
By Lulu M. Sylvian

About the book

Medical illustrator Gillian Denver has a unique talent, and it's not her ability to depict the systems of the body accurately and artistically. She can talk to spirits, only she doesn’t realize it. 

Peter Keith, a one-time TV sitcom star whose career dissolved from A-lister hunk, to out of shape, straight-to-cable-movie D-lister has a problem. Peter regrets decisions he made in his life, and would like a do-over. He convinces Gillian to help him. One little problem, Peter is dead. 

Thinking it’s her over active imagination causing her reoccurring dreams about Peter to spill into daylight hours, Gillian finds herself talking to him while she works. Together they begin to recreate Peter’s life by writing a book the way he wishes things had worked out. Gillian is not fully convinced that Peter is anything more than something she made up, a glorified imaginary friend, a new muse. 

Gillian’s feelings for Peter complicate her relationships with the living. She is afraid the love she has for Peter will never be enough because she cannot give him what he really needs, a resolution to the life he wasn’t ready to leave.

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Read an Excerpt

“I fell in love with the wrong type of person. She wasn’t in love with me as much as she was in love with what she thought I could do for her. My wife’s idea of support was to provide me with drugs so I could keep working. Your character is nothing like that. I like what you’re doing with her.”

I beamed. High praise indeed. I bounced on the bed, jostling him. “Do I get a cookie?”

“Something better.” He reached for me. “Come here.”

I slipped into his arms, and suddenly waves crashed on the beach off to my right. I could feel a slight breeze. Peter hadn’t brought me here in dreams for a while. It was that boardwalk he had liked. It had taken a while, but I finally figured it out—we were in Santa Barbara. He brought me here once or twice before he started really talking to me, back when he was still just a reoccurring dream.

Now that I was aware of his dream manipulation I paid more attention to my surroundings. I could see the waves, but I could barely hear them. I could see seagulls, but no noises came from them. I knew without even trying to deviate from the path, that I wouldn’t be able to run onto the beach and dip my toes in the cool water.
If it weren’t for the breeze, and the general ambiance for being outside, I would say we were on a movie set. It looked like we were actually here, but it was all an illusion. Illusion or not, it was nice to be outside and not have to worry about sunscreen, or getting a sunburn—there are definite benefits to this dreamscape.
Peter casually strolled. His hands thrust deep into his pockets and he smiled at me, easily laughing. I was not casually strolling, I bounced and walked backward in front of him so I could see his face. I flailed my arms around animatedly.

I was excited. I was making something out of words. Things were actually coming together.
“Why are we here?” I spun, the little sundress I wore twirled out, and I’m pretty sure I flashed Peter my panties.
“You are amazing. You are creating an entire world with words and your imagination. I wanted to bring you somewhere special. Do something a little different. Show you how impressed I am.” He left the paved walkway and started out across a manicured lawn toward the ocean.

I skipped after him. I really could get used to this being outside without any of the consequences. I couldn’t think of the last time I had been to the beach without sunscreen on, let alone with my shoulders and back exposed. 
He continued to walk until we reached a beach picnic set up. A large blanket was spread out, and a colorful umbrella guarded over it, and two champagne flutes. Peter held out his hand to me and helped me to sit. He lowered himself into a lounging posture next to me. We clinked glasses and sipped the bubbles.
“Can I swim?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.” I indicated my dress, expecting him to dream-time me into a different outfit.
“You don’t need one. This is a private beach, there is no one else out here. Just you and me.”
“You mean skinny dip?” I was enjoying the whole not needing sunscreen, but, getting into the ocean naked?

Peter was up and pulling his clothes off. “Come on!” he called as he ran into the waves. He stopped when he was about knee deep and waited for me with his hands on his hips. He looked kind of silly. Hot, sexy, naked, and silly.
“Oh, hell,” I muttered. I pulled the dress off and kicked out of the panties and skipped into the water after him. 
Of course, the water was perfect. I splashed Peter and then dove in farther. He followed me and captured me in his arms. His lips were warm and salty wet. My skin slid against his, and suddenly his nudity didn’t seem so silly to me. 

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