Food and Sex. They go together like peas and carrots. Wait, peas and carrots aren’t very sexy. Although, you can do really interesting things with carrots. If you have any idea what to do with peas, please let me know. Anyway, I’m writing a book about a bad-boy chef from L.A. who is forced to take a job in Humboldt County. His boss is an earthy, sexy woman who runs an organic farming business. She’s sassy, he’s dominant and they are both obsessed with food. I thought I’d post a little excerpt. Here ya go!

“What’s there to argue about?” He held the spoon just under her nose. She couldn’t help it; she had to breathe, right? And oh my God. It smelled amazing. She licked her lips.He watched her lick her lips. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable.

“Taste.” When he said the word his voice was raspy.

Her mouth opened. Why did it do that?

He slid the spoon over her lips, and her tongue slipped out to allow him to tilt the caramelized, sweet banana onto her tongue. Her eyes drifted shut. He kept the spoon in her mouth, too long. In that moment, that minute of silence in which all she could do was taste, and listen to their breathing, heat rushed through her body. Her nipples hardened. She could smell the bite of tequila on his breath, he was that close to her.

She pushed him away, ignoring the way his body felt beneath the palms of her hands (warm and solid). She cleared her throat. “That doesn’t taste that bad. But it’s not on the menu.”

“You always stick to the menu, bumpkin? No special orders for you?”

“Shut up.” She wiped her hands on her skirt. “Go make the bread. And stop trying to show me up in front of my staff.” Then she walked out of the storage room, slamming the door behind her.