Welcome to Tuesday Test Day! Each Tuesday, I share a snippet from one of my stories, along with three options. To enter, guess which of the three options the snippet is from.
Post your answer in the comments before Sunday evening at 5 p.m. CT. (You may respond here or on my Facebook page). Each Monday, I will randomly draw a name from all the correct answers and that person will win a $5 Amazon Gift Card. Winners will be announced in the next Tuesday Test Day post.
Last week’s winner is…
Congrats!! Please email me at Alicia@AliciaDean.com and I will send your $5 gift card. Thank you for playing!
(The correct answer was Heart of the Witch)
Which of the below stories is this snippet from?
He was here, at Oscar’s. The man with the thousand-watt smile and heavenly eyes. But tonight, rather than the clothing of a dock worker, he wore a smart gray suit with a black bow tie. His hat was gone, and his golden hair gleamed with threads of sunlight. What was he doing here? She inwardly snorted. Silly question. He was doing exactly what the other men were doing here. Looking for a good time. Her pulse sped up when he and Oscar headed toward her.
“Eliza, I’d like you to meet someone. Vincent Taggart, Eliza Gilbert.”
Eliza inclined her head. She didn’t reveal that she’d already met him. She wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t seem prudent. “How do you do.”
Mr. Taggart grinned like they shared a secret. “Very well, thank you.”
“Mr. Taggart will be your…date for the evening. You are to accompany him to the silver room.”
Eliza’s mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow, but couldn’t. This man had purchased an evening with her? Horsefeathers. Now he knew she was a…
Shame heated the skin on her face until she thought she would burst into flames. But there was nothing to do, no escape. She sucked in a deep breath and steeled herself for the humiliation. It was, after all, part of the deal in her line of work.
Oscar had made her go to dinner earlier this evening with a bloke who accosted her, right out on the street, but it hadn’t gone further than repulsive pawing while he had her pinned against his motorcar. The memory of his sweaty hands and moist mouth on hers brought nausea to her throat. Since the time with Killman, she hadn’t been required to sexually pleasure any other guests. But it appeared her luck had run out.
He studied her with intense blue eyes. The dimple on the right side of his firm mouth creased with a smile. For the first time, she noticed a scar on his slightly crooked nose. The man was a ruffian, so why did he make her pulse race?