Afterglow
"Look, George, I'm not all that bored. And what do you do with a man, anyway?" Chelsea broke off abruptly at George's literal belly laugh.
George was eight months' pregnant.
"All right, so Elliot did do something."
"At the very least, something," George agreed. "Stop a minute, Chelsea, I've got to move around a bit. The kiddo is growing restless."
Chelsea watched her beautiful friend ease her way to the edge of the chair, shove off using the arms and achieve a less than dignified upright stance. "There! Goodness, another month of this! I'll tell you, Chelsea, I think it would do men some good if they had to go through this." She patted her stomach and began her slow trek around the living room. "I swear the kid's going to be a drummer."
"Have you and Elliot decided what to name it?"
"It? No, whatever it's going to be, it still has no name. I told him if he didn't come up with something soon that I could agree with, I'd leave the state, have the kid and name it Lance or Brigitte."
Chelsea laughed. "Perfect hero and heroine names," she said. "Come now, Chels, you've never had a Lance in any of your novels ... read full excerpt from: Afterglow ebook
