Friday, September 14, 2018

First Kiss Friday – An Excerpt from “His Midnight Sun” by Viviana MacKade


Today on First Kiss Friday we welcome author, Viviana MacKade, and an excerpt from her Romantic Suspense, “His Midnight Sun (Crescent Creek Book 3).”


Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?

Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?


First Kiss Excerpt
Summer nodded and stretched her arms over and behind her head, half yawning. “One day, I’ll ask to hear your story, Aidan Murphy. All of it, so maybe I’ll be able to figure you out.”
He stood still as a rock for one heartbeat. “One day,” he said then, leaning forward and close. “I’m afraid I’ll want to tell you.”
Ah, hell, there he was again, pulling the rug of ease from under her feet. Heat crawled on her face, she felt it and swore at it through breath that came in short and fast. In the dim light of a September moon, his eyes shone like dangerous jade. “Why?” she said in a wavering voice.
“Because I think you will not judge, nor run.”
“Should I?”
“Probably.”
“Why?’
“Because I’m a midnight full of nightmares and menace while you’re a spring morning sun. They are mutually exclusive, only pain comes when you try to put them together.”
Why did it feel like they were talking about something critical, something with the power of changing the course of their lives? And why did she want to challenge his words? “There are places in the world where the sun is up at midnight so, you see? Not mutually exclusive.”
“I can destroy your light,” he murmured, so low and pained, so strained and hurtful she struggled to breathe and barely managed a whisper. “I can lighten your darkness.”
“What’s left of me without it?”
“You give yourself too little credit.”
Away, far away, someone boomed. It might have been the people playing cards. Might have been an alien invasion. To her, nothing beyond those eyes, and deep voice, and words barely spoken existed.
She sat at a garden table surrounded by friends but she felt alone, nothing real but him, his mouth, his eyes almost challenging, bearing on her. He mesmerized her, confused her with all she felt: unsure, willing, terrified, tempted, needy.
He inched closer, closer, or maybe it was her. Until his lips brushed hers. Warm. Delicate. Gentle.
She inhaled his scent, closed her eyes to focus on the heartbreaking tenderness of the moment, on the shattering power of an innocent kiss. When the contact broke she still didn’t move, clinging to the sultry memory of it, to the cloud of promises but eventually, she had to surrender to the absence of it.
Summer opened her eyes to Aidan, struggled to put together words that had to be said, fought a stab of panic when he stepped back and she saw, really saw, his face. Dark brows hung low, his soft lips pressed together, his eyes were of hot stone. If he were anybody else, she’d have sworn he was freaking out. Big. When he rose and walked inside the house, she had to muscle air in and force her entire system to come down from cloud nine and ease up.
What happened?
What had just happened?
And why he looked at her with sheer panic booming on his face? He’d bared his heart one moment, then boom. He ran away.
Summer shook her head to reset reality.
It was not how people behave after a kiss. Right? A little more than a peck on the lips, if she had to be honest, which came as unexpected from someone as intense as he was. Not a big deal. Yeah, kind of mind blowing and soul shattering in its effects but still a peck, and he’d ran like she’d demanded marriage.
It needed to be talked through because come on, it was plain odd and she hated unsettled, odd things.
She got on her feet and made her way inside trying to avoid whoever’s eyes and gaping mouths. Because they were at a party in a house garden with other people, not exactly Times Square, so of course they’d all seen, and of course they were staring.
Holy. Crap.
She hurried her steps, opened and closed the glass door behind her, careful not to awake the children. After a brief wandering through the house–yeah, she had to chase after the man who’d kissed her, go figure–she found him in the hall, taking his keys from a little wooden bowl and her usually mild temper bubbled.
She might be a klutz with men, way out of her element when kissing Mr. Hot. She missed the logic behind him, kissing her, and was kinda freaked out by it, but she’d never run away. “I can’t believe you’re running,” she said, crossing her arms on her chest.
He pushed his keys in his pocket and stood there, staring at the white wall.
“What happened? Not only you, leaving but…” she swallowed. “You kissed me. We kissed, actually.”
He didn’t move nor answer but his stance was stiff, his entire body so rigid it tugged at her heart. When you’re a doctor, you recognize fear when you see it and boy, was he afraid.
Summer stepped toward him, took one of his hands in hers slowly, like she would approach a wild animal, gauging his reaction, fearing rejection, fearing everything else. And drew a relived breath when he tightened the hold.
“Aidan?”
As he still denied his full attention, he raised their linked hands, seemed entranced by it, as if they held every answer in the world. Then he brought them up until his lips touched her hand, his eyes closed.
Then he turned around and walked out, leaving Summer with nothing to contemplate but a door, nothing to fight but the tears burning in the back of her eyes.
Minutes passed; astonishment did not. It lingered on her as a mixture of surprise, pain, curiosity, fear, a mess she had no clue how sort out. Sort him out.

“His Midnight Sun” is available through:


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