Please give a warm welcome to Sloan O’Riley from Heartland (Black Irish #2) by Tricia Andersen today as we sit down and see what makes him/her tick.
Q: So tell us about yourself. What got you in the cross hairs for your author?
I’m tall, dark, sinfully sexy and chiseled like a Greek god with thick black hair and ice blue eyes. I’m in the cross hairs of a lot of women.
Q: What was it that drew you to your mate?
First it was her innocence and naivete. She locked me around her finger with her spitfire and determination. Not to mention she is beautiful. Abigail is the entire package.
Q: A little naughty fun, where was the wildest place you seduced your partner(s)?
*sly grin* Against a light pole on a residential street in Mount Vernon, Iowa on our walk home from the gallery we own.
Q: Boxers, briefs or Commando on a man?
Commando, of course.
Q: If your partner wants to seduce you, what’s one sure fire trick he/she can play?
Abigail doesn’t need to play any tricks. I want her all the time. Twenty-four seven. She seduces me by merely breathing. And batting her hazel eyes at me.
Q: What is the one place on your partner’s body that you know will drive them wild-in and out of bed?
Her lower back. I can feel her shiver every time I brush my fingers against it.
Q: What was one of the most embarrassing thing your author did to you in Heartland?
Well, there wasn’t much that was embarrassing that Tricia made me do in Heartland. However, in Heartland’s prequel Black Irish, she made me kiss my best friend, Robert, to hold up my ruse that I was gay to keep Abigail in New York City. That was a little unnerving.
Q: Anything else you would like to add?
Thank you Sloan for joining us on ‘Meet the Character’ day here at Raine’s Blog. Please find Heartland (Black Irish #2) by Tricia Andersen at Sweet Cravings Publishing.
Heartland by Trisha Andersen
Secret Cravings Publishing
Buy at Publisher
Sloan and Abbey move to Abbey’s hometown of Mount Vernon, Iowa, to start their new lives together away from the chaos of New York City. And they are not alone – they are joined by Gordon, Maggie, and Bartholomew each looking for a fresh start and new love in the small rural town.
Their marriage is put to the test by the reappearance of Abbey’s father, bullies from her high school days, a business opportunity in Miami, and a new baby on the way. When a person from their past comes back looking to make Abbey his own again, will he be able to tear Sloan and Abbey apart forever?
At the next street corner, Sloan’s arms and lips were far more possessive. He was no longer the proud father. He was the lover who had embedded the baby in her womb. She clung to him. Why can’t we live closer to the gallery?
At the third street corner, Abbey found herself pressed flush against the street lamp. Sloan’s hands slid down her butt to her inner thighs. She felt his arms tense to lift.
“Sloan, what are you doing?” Abbey asked breathlessly.
Sloan’s ice blue eyes locked with hers. “I told you I wouldn’t be stopping tonight, didn’t I?”
Abbey gasped softly as Sloan’s lips pried hers apart, his tongue diving deep to tangle with hers. She held on tight to his black wool trench coat as she tore free from the kiss. “Sloan, not here.”
A shudder ran through her as she heard the sound of clattering metal of his belt buckle falling free. She had to stop this. She was a whisper away from letting him strip her naked and take her right there against the light pole.
“Why not here?” he demanded.
He cocked his head to the side, a playful pout on his sweet, sexy lips. “How sad. You’ve lost your adventure.”
“I haven’t lost anything. Winter’s about to start. I don’t want to freeze to this pole.”
Sloan pinned his body to Abbey’s, pressing her against the light pole with his sculpted, muscular frame. She felt him hard and ready against her swollen belly. “Oh, luv. I will warm your skin. You won’t freeze.”
“We can see our breath…”
Abbey’s words trailed off as Sloan’s hands caressed her breasts while his lips roamed the curve of her neck. She whimpered in need as she clung to his shoulders, her fingers buried in his wavy, ebony hair. She felt her resolve slip away. She needed skin on skin. She needed Sloan inside her.
“Home,” she moaned, forcing one more stand from her lips. “One block, please.”
Sloan gazed down at her, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. It promised a night of fiery passion that set loose butterflies in her stomach. He took her hand in his as they quickly crossed the street and trotted for home.
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