Another snippit from the work I currently have submitted, Black Aggie.
Raph strode up the shallow steps and rapped on the glass paned door. A silhouette appeared an instant before the door swung open. Raph took a step back. Holy shit.
Trouble, big fucking trouble. From the top of her sun-bleached auburn curls to the tip of her bare toes. The woman who answered the door was trouble with a capital T.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a raspy, bedroom voice.
Oh shit, oh shit. Her eyes were the yellow green of sunshine through through a glass of 110 proof chartreuse and they stole the breath from his lungs.