A Shit Storm by Lisa Gillis #blogtour #Giveaway (ends 4/12)

A Shit Storm Excerpt

The beat of the music pounding through the poolside speakers was just loud enough to mask the purr of her car coming up the drive on the other side of the house. It was his daughters who alerted him to her presence.

“Momma!” Both girls scrambled for the side of the pool.

Twisting his head, he found her storming the patio in full, beautiful fury. Her eyes sparkled,and her glossy hair whipped about her shoulders with every angry stride. He hoped it was road rage and not something he’d done. A split second fantasy of channeling that wrath into a good hard fuck flashed his senses before she spoke, and those imaginings dissolved.

Uncharacteristically ignoring the excited welcomes of their daughters, she came to a stop beside his chair and whipped her shades off. “J.J. Didn’t. Come home.”

June slowed her gait across the patio and stood dripping, her expression as dumbfounded as he felt.

Unlike her sister, Zoë didn’t pick up on the negative vibes and flung her wet body onto Mariss.

His legs straddled the chair, his feet hitting the bricks as his body unconsciously righted from its relaxed slouch. “What do you mean, ‘he didn’t come home?’”

“He didn’t come home, Jack! That’s what I mean!” Automatically, she knelt, scooping Zoë up before straightening again. In the second she was eye to eye with him, he saw panic simmering alongside the fury in her face. “When I picked those boys up, J.J. wasn’t with them. Dusty and Todd said he stayed at the beach house with some girl!”

The tickling he felt inside his chest was strangely akin to laughter. Maybe because he was furious enough to be hysterical. Maybe because he’d been expecting a stunt like this for years from a too perfect son. Reaching a hand out, he motioned to June, who immediately curved securely into the bend of his arm.

J.J. had turned eighteen a few months ago. If he wanted to hole up in the beach house with some hot little number he’d met, that was something Mariss was going to have to get used to. Still, the horny teen should have cleared with them beforehand, instead of afterward, his plans of staying down there. That part of it riled him—that Mariss was in freak-out mode because of J.J.’s inconsideration.

“So, did you talk to him? Or—”

“No, I didn’t talk to him.” She bit the words out. “I’m going down there to get his ass. Can you set my flight up? Or do you want to call Kim to babysit, and go with me?”

“We want Kim to babysit!” June’s excitement got the better of her, and despite the tension, she voted eagerly for their favored freshman-in-college babysitter, who lived a few blocks away. The fraction of humor in the situation struck again, but Jack didn’t dare smile at the image of Mariss flying across three states to carry out her cock blocking.

He settled June on the chair and crossed to his phone. After a jab at the screen, he held the device to his ear and gently held Mariss’ gaze. When his son didn’t answer, he promptly redialed and waited again.

“Hey, it’s Tristan. You know the drill… BEEEEP’”

“Call me. Now!” Jack growled into the recorder, and instead of waiting, he dialed again.

A Shit Storm Playlist

Graphics courtesy of Author Lisa Gillis.