Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publication Date: January 1, 2016
If you were stranded on a desert island what ten books would you want with you.
Well, first off, aside from the following ten books, I’d want all my book boyfriends with me, does that work?
1. Summer Sisters by Jude Blume
It’s an all time fave of mine that I try to read every summer!
2. Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White
The book that introduced me to the ugly cry.
3. Sleep Toward Heaven by Amanda Eyre Ward
Twists and turns and secret connections, definitely inspired my writing!
4. Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series (it would be one giant collection!)
Burning car, anyone?
5. Hate List by Jennifer Brown
The flipside of school shootings
6. Unhurt by K.S. Thomas
7. Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by Bill Martin, Jr. & John Archambault
It’s my daughter’s favorite and I love to hear her read it to me with her special additions.
8. Whole Latte Love by Rachelle Ayala
She’s who inspired me to start writing!
9. Second Shield by Stacy Eaton
*Patiently* waiting for the sequel so if someone could drop that on my island for me, I’d greatly appreciate that.
10. Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
I’ll pick up tips in case I find myself in the same situation on the island.
Sloan fingers walk up my chest, grabbing my shirt and forcing me to look down at her. Her eyes glimmer with sensuality and I know exactly where her mind is going. Leaning down, our lips barely touch and the passion is ignited. With a shrill squeal, I scoop her into my arms as though we’re newlyweds about to cross the threshold for the first time. Sloan nibbles on my neck and I moan as I walk us toward the bedroom, ready to christen our new bed.
“You gonna give me the chance to marry you and do this for real?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Not a chance in hell.”
I chuckle as I set her on the bed, tugging my shirt off. “I’ll get you to change your mind some day.”
Sloan pulls her own shirt off, leaving me licking my lips at the sight of her in just a black lacy brassiere. Teasing me, she runs her index finger from her collarbone between her breasts, licking her lips and keeping direct eye contact with me. The tip of her finger slips inside her bra and I bite my lip, wanting to replace her hand with mine, but am way too turned on by her own handiwork to stop her.
“Maybe one day, when we’re old and gray,” Sloan says, drawing out her words and speaking in barely a whisper.
She stands up, wiggling her hips and pushing her pants to the floor. Now she’s in just her black lace bra and thong. She turns her back to me, crawling over our king size bed and I reach out, running my hand over her perfectly tight runner’s ass. Sloan stops moving forward, placing her hand on top of mine and leaning up on her knees. Her back is against my chest, our bodies flush against each other’s and I squeeze my hand tightly around the handful in my touch.
“I don’t want easy right now, Smitty. I want you, me, and passion.”