That’s the first line of my first release.

My. First. Release.

Finally! J

No Matter What will release on November 3, 2009. Which, interestingly, is tomorrow! J

Firsts. There’s nothing like them right? First kisses, first dates, first birthdays, first anniversaries, first steps, first place… monumental moments. So, I thought today maybe we’d talk about ‘firsts’.

Some of my favorites:

The first line to one of my favorite songs: “And now, the end is near, and I face the final curtain.” (My Way, Frank Sinatra).

The first word my daughter said: “Pretty”.

The first Christmas present from my son: an ornament with his picture in it from daycare.

The first time my husband told me he loved me: on the couch in that horrible house he shared with his three college buddies.

The first scene in my favorite movie: snow softly falling over a quiet little town decorated for Christmas and the sound of various people praying for the same man, George Bailey. (It’s A Wonderful Life).

And since we’re really all here about the books! J Here are the first lines in some of my favorite books:

“Once there was a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid.” (The Velveteen Rabbit, Margery Williams)

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling).

“Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy.” (The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis)

And of course, the romances! Here are some of my favorite first lines:

“The man gave a whole new meaning to the words rise and shine.” (A Date With the Other Side, Erin McCarthy)

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Eastman. I’d recognize those tits anywhere.” (Hide and Seek, Cherry Adair)

“It wasn’t every day a guy saw a headless beaver marching down the side of a road, not even in Dean Robillard’s larger-than-life world.” (Natural Born Charmer, Susan Elizabeth Phillips)

and, perhaps my favorite of all, “On the sixth of April, in the year 1812—precisely two days before her sixteenth birthday—Penelope Featherington fell in love.” (Romancing Mr. Bridgerton, Julia Quinn).

Ah, firsts! They can be wonderful, can’t they?

I want to hear about some of your favorite firsts! And listen to this… anyone who comments (I mean anyone) before midnight with a favorite first in their life gets a sneak peek of No Matter What (fittingly, the full first chapter)!!

And don’t miss out on all the fun going on right now for this release! There is a contest running on my website until tomorrow! Over the past few months I’ve posted here and had some little contests. All of the people who have participated have been automatically entered into this release day contest equal to the number of times they’ve participated! So, those who have joined in every month since July have been entered four times already and can add their name one more time by commenting here today before midnight! The grand prize is a copy of the book, a bunch of Erin Nicholas goodies (pens, bookmarks and such) and a gift basket in honor of the late night snacks Adam and Jaden share in No Matter What: Amaretto Cocoa mix, Chai tea mix and biscotti!

Also, my author group, Nine Naughty Novelists, is up and going with our blog! We are planning lots of fun including regular posts from the nine of us, guest bloggers, excerpts on Thursdays, and a NNN party every month on the 9^th! http://ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com/

We’re kicking things off big in the Samhain Café on November 9^th with a scavenger hunt and more fun, so come check it out! (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/samhaincafe/)

Thanks for sharing this fun with me! I look forward to hearing about your special firsts and hope you’ll check No Matter What out tomorrow! http://samhainpublishing.com/new

Erin

Phoebe couldn't believe he was going to make love to her, but she could see from the serious expression in his golden brown eyes, that was exactly what he had planned. Coming tonight had not been a mistake.

Spiros understood even if he did not agree. And he'd told her he wanted to marry her irrespective of the money deal between their families. Even if it was only because he'd realized how important their friendship was to him, that was still good to know.

His eyes burned over her with the same flame of desire she'd seen that night in her apartment. They were going to make love. She was so keyed-up by the prospect, she could barely breathe.

Her body drawn by a relentless invisible cord, she moved toward him.

He reached out when she was close enough and pulled her the rest of the way, his mouth coming down toward hers even as their bodies came together.

"Never doubt that I want you." He spoke against her lips in a low but firm voice.

"Show me," she challenged.

"Oh, I will."

Then he kissed her. The caress against her lips did not last long, but it touched her to the very marrow of her being.

"Your mouth is perfect, so kissable," he murmured against the very lips he was praising.

"I couldn’t imagine doing this with Dimitri."

"You are not to try to imagine doing anything with him ever again."

She almost laughed at the possessive growl, but had a feeling he would not share her amusement. "You were the one who told me I had to marry him. That you wanted me to."

"I believed it was the only way."

"And now you think the only way for your family's pride to be salvaged is to marry me yourself." There was no bitterness in her voice, only awe at his unswerving sense of right.

She had known her whole life she could count on Spiros and he only bolstered that fact with his action. What she had not realized before was that her ability to trust his integrity implicitly superseded her ability to trust him emotionally. Perhaps, one day that would change.

After all, she had not believed he could ever want her, but that had changed.

"It is not something I regret."

"Are you sure?"

He didn't bother to answer, simply renewed the kiss, his lips staking a claim that she knew he would be intent on keeping this time. His honor demanded it.

His hands traveled down her body, as if memorizing the dips and valleys that made up her figure. Then he was swinging her high against his chest and carrying her down the hall toward his bedroom.

Only he did not stop at his bedroom door, but carried on to the oversized balcony at the back of his apartment. He had removed all of the wall except the support beams that separated the back bedroom from the balcony and created an extra-large outdoor living space right in downtown Athens. He'd even installed a small spa in one corner.

He didn't take her to the spa though, he took her to the double lounger that she'd shared with him many times, only in a very different capacity. It was designed to lift at opposite sides so they could face each other in a lounging position, which they'd done many times in the past while sharing a rousing game of cards.

But right now it was completely flat, making it the size of an oval shaped double bed. He laid her onto the cushions. They were covered in a polished cotton upholstery in such a fine weave that it felt like silk against her heated skin.

“You look so perfect there.” He stepped back and began to undress. “I cannot believe you doubt the chemistry between us. I have wanted you for a long time, pethi mou.”

“Chrysanthos said I made you hard.”

“Your brother is precocious.”

“He’s a sixteen year old male. Apparently, they notice these things.”

“And their older sisters do not.”

“You hid it from me.”

“Too well, apparently.”

“So, fix my misconceptions now.”

She forgot that he hardly ever watched television and never the American programs. "A nerdy character on an old sitcom."

"And she wears her sweats above her belly button?"

"It's a him and yes, way above...but don't think for a minute I'm going to. This is the style."

"If you bend over, I will see the swell of your bottom."

"You think?" He was being circumspect, but he meant her butt crack and she could not let that statement go unchallenged. She spun and bent over. "Well? See anything?" She knew darn well he didn't. She wasn't a tramp and didn't dress like one.

But Spiros did not answer.

She looked back over her shoulder and her breath locked in her chest. He was staring at her in a way she had only ever dreamed of. With a dark hunger that called to something deep in her womb.

She straightened. "Spiros?"

He stared at her. "You should not have done that."

"Why?" she asked, her brain refusing the evidence of her own eyes as impossible.

He couldn't want her. She'd loved him for too long, getting nothing but friendship back in return, for things to have changed like this. It was wishful thinking on her part. It had to be.

Only he was still looking at her as if she was a feast and he the starving man.

"Because," he said in a tone she had never heard from him before.

"Because why?" She was nothing if not tenacious.

Anyone who knew her at all, knew that. And he knew her better than most.

He didn't smile at her childish prompting like he had always done in the past. His jaw was too rigid for even a facsimile of one. But he stepped forward.

She had the craziest urge to step back. Crazy because close to him was where she wanted to be. It always had been – even before she knew she was in love with him. Only right this second – he was almost a stranger. A dangerous stranger.

But he would never hurt her. She knew that. No matter how intense he was acting right now. And if by some miracle his attitude meant what it seemed to mean, she wanted it. She knew she did.

So why did those internal reminders fail to dispel the weird sense of fear trying to take hold? She was strong enough to stand against it though.

And she would.

He took another step forward, and another...and then he was so close she could feel his body heat in the scant bit of air between them. His scent was different up close, not merely the expensive aftershave he wore because she'd been buying it for him since she was ten, but another spicy fragrance that could only be him. It was warm like his body...how could a smell be warm?

But it was. And it was good, oh so good. She wanted to lean forward and nuzzle her nose in his neck and just revel in it.

She'd smelled him before, but there was a quality to his personal scent that was different now...a musk that sent a sharp ache deep into her womb. Her legs felt weak and she swayed a little, her face doing that nuzzle thing of its own accord.

He took in a sharp breath even as she inhaled his scent.

She throbbed in that hidden place between her legs. She'd never felt like this, even when she'd lain in her bed at night and thought about him. It was so different. Scary, but totally delicious too.

Which was exactly how the odd fear felt – kind of yummy. And that was really odd. Fear wasn't yummy or fun. At least it never had been before. But this sensation wasn't one she wanted to end immediately. How weird was that?

Her disjointed ruminations ceased as she became acutely aware of how he filled her senses. His body heat surrounded her. Everything beyond him fuzzed in her vision as if her eyes wanted to focus wholly on him. And his scent reached out to her, drawing her closer with an undeniable pull.

He didn't say anything as she rubbed her nose very lightly in the hollow of his neck. This close she could smell the difference from where she nuzzled and his face where his aftershave left a stronger impression. She'd always loved that cologne, that's why she bought it for him. But right now she wanted his essence – she needed to imprint him on her sensory memories.

He didn't move. Not to get away, not to get closer. He remained utterly still.

She met his silence with one of her own, not wanting this magical moment to end. If she never had anything else from him, no one could ever take away this moment. The first – and maybe the only – sensual encounter between two friends closer than most family.

Taking a deep breath, she inhaled more of him and shuddered as her breasts came into contact with his chest. He made a sound like a growl, but still no words.

Her nipples ached behind the thin layers of her bra and top. She pressed more firmly into him, trying to relieve that ache. It didn't work. She only wanted more. She needed something...from him...but she didn't know what. She'd read about this kind of thing, talked it over with her friends. She'd even tried experimenting, but she didn't like kissing other men when all she could think about was the one she loved. Even if she couldn’t have him, her body had never allowed her to have anyone else either. No matter how hard she tried.

The fact that she was de facto engaged to his brother had prevented her from dating more than a few times anyway. She always felt so guilty, though she shouldn't have.

It wasn't as if Dimitri wanted her and she was positive he wasn't celibate. She'd seen pictures in the paper of him with a French model, though she'd never mentioned them to anyone else. He was good at keeping his name out of the media, so she saw no reason to stir trouble about the couple of times he hadn't been able to.

She doubted his family even knew.

But what was she doing thinking about Dmitri, when his brother – the man she loved – was standing right here? She would have groaned at herself if she could get enough air into her lungs. You'd think with the way she kept taking in his scent she'd have plenty of air, but she felt light headed anyway.

And that was her only excuse for what she did next. Lack of oxygen to the brain.