Excerpt of Hot Holiday by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

The woman shrugged, nodded her head, and turned. She limped away, parting the afternoon crowd like Moses did the Red Sea. Every male eye on the street looked her way, and none too discretely. Cameron saw why. Her outrageously rounded bottom swung suggestively with each step she took. The smallness of her waist was emphasized by a wide black belt. Black stockings hugged an incredibly shapely pair of legs.

It took him a full minute more to notice that she had stopped limping. His gaze went to her shoes. No broken heel.

Cameron glanced up at the sky and moved his lips. Then he turned his attention to the building beside him, where his client waited. This client was the reason he had been called to the city, to this state, this country, on the earth plane, but the less time he spent in public, the better. After awhile, living among mortals made him start to feel like one.

"Sacrifice," he said, thinking of that blonde's backside and her deliciously fragrant heat. "It's all about sacrifice."

Maneuvering himself between people, and about to step through revolving glass doors, he paused. An odd stench was radiating upward, from him.

Scorched wool?

After glancing around, Cameron looked down at his coat. He patted his pocket; the one holding the woman's business card. That pocket felt sort of steamy.

There was only one reason he could think of for that.

With a shake of his head and a grin of acknowledgement about the truth of what had just happened, he said, "Well, well. That explains things."

Taking another quick survey of the sidewalk, as if he could still picture the blonde there, he lowered his voice.

"I wonder what brings you here, Mistress of the Underworld?"

Between his shoulder blades, the wings curled tightly against his skin ruffled.