Ok, I know I said the last teaser was the final one, but remember that probably? Yeah. I found another awesome quote and simply could not resist. There it is, to the left, and I hope y'all enjoy what I promise is the last teaser for this novel. (Though I will be pulling quotes from it for character files later on, but that's top secret. Shh!)

Now, the part I've been waiting to share, the excerpt. The first scene is already up on Tempered's book page (as is a partial playlist of Aaron's running music, down the right-hand side of the page), and you're very welcome to go read it if you haven't already. When you're done, hop on back over here and read this excerpt (not the same!), hidden behind a "read more" link for those who prefer to be surprised when the book comes out.

I've had a blast working on Hawthorne and Aaron's story and the Daughters of the People Series in general, and look forward to bringing you more stories from the world of the People next year.

On to the good stuff...

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Excerpt

 Aaron pushed away from the bar and shot her a sour look, his brows furrowing over sinfully dark chocolate eyes. “Next time you need to know something, try asking.”

“I shall remember that,” Hawthorne murmured and rose from the barstool. “You may go unless you wish to converse or copulate.”

“Copulate,” he said in a strangled voice, his eyes wide. “As in, have sex?”

“If that is your wish, I am amenable. The attraction is mutual.” She pivoted and pulled off her athletic top as she walked toward the bedroom. He wheezed out a cough, and she almost smiled. “I wish to shower first. The exhibition with Levi left me sticky.”

She glanced over her shoulder. He had braced his elbows on the bar and was rubbing his eyes with the fingers of one hand. Satisfaction purred through her. Yes, he found her attractive and he would stay. Their interaction would be a pleasant diversion, perhaps enough to temporarily assuage her worries over the discovery of the Chronicler’s tales in a location far beyond where they should have been.

“Come, Aaron Kesselman. You may watch me bathe.”

He gaped at her, then snapped his jaw shut. “Just like that, you’re ready to strip down in front of me? Don’t you want to get to know me first, maybe have dinner, catch a movie?”

“If you are hungry, I shall call room service. Otherwise, I should like to copulate.” She held out her hand. “Come along, now.”

He muttered under his breath as he came around the side of the bar, but took her hand and allowed her to lead him into her bedroom.

“I had no idea modern men could be so shy,” she said. “Is this typical among your social set?”

“You have a strange way of putting things.”

“That is not an answer.” She stepped into the bathroom and turned the water on, adjusting the knobs and testing until the temperature felt right. Even after decades of having access to it, nearly instantaneous hot water was a blissful luxury. She stripped off her yoga tights and stepped into the shower. “A young man of your age should be ready to copulate at a moment’s notice. Is this not evolution’s way of ensuring the survival of our species?”

At his continued silence, she turned. He was leaning against the bathroom’s counter, his long legs crossed in front of him at the ankles, his hands gripping the edge. His gaze was fixed firmly on her body. Even over the chemical scent of the water and from across the room, she could smell his arousal in the pheromones he exuded, observe it in the growing hardness beneath the zipper of his trousers.

She slid the shower curtain open, catching his attention. “Have you never seen a nude woman before?”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.”

“If I did not wish you to look, I would not have undressed in front of you.” She closed the curtain and began to bathe, reveling in the warm water sliding across her skin. “I am puzzled by your reluctance to perform a natural act. Such modesty is unnecessary.”

“I can honestly say I’ve never met a woman quite like you before.”

“The women of your era are soft, weak.” Hawthorne washed her hair quickly, rubbing her fingertips briskly across her scalp as she lathered and rinsed. “They would not endure three minutes on a battlefield.”

He grunted out a laugh. “Not a lot of battlefields in America.”

“There are more than you can know, Aaron Kesselman.”

“Maybe you should call me Aaron. Now that I’ve seen you naked, using my whole name seems a little too formal.”