***
The Romance Novel Book Club has been a brain child of mine for a few years. Being a panster writer, I tend to bounce from one manuscript to another. Last NaNo I had planned to finish this one but alas, I was too enthralled with the novellas and shorts to make time. Again the poor story pouted in the corner eating a vat of Ben & Jerry’s.
When I saw making a short story was
becoming very hard to do, I decided I had to finish this novel. It's quirky, funny,
and may or may not have some real life experiences. I’ll never tell. In truth,
it’s a poke at romance novels that turns into a woman realizing there's a real
world out there and real love right in front of her face.
One of the fun parts was making up the
romance novel excerpts. I took some of the things that made me roll my eyes
when I read straight romance. It's the sarcastic cynic in me. Still, I have to
admit that I started to fall in love with the characters I created in the fake
ones. It happens.
Now for the fun part! The blurb and a
teaser excerpt!
Blurb:
From the legendary times of the Victorian Age to the rugged reaches of outer space, the romance novels have done nothing to spark Patricia’s want and hope of finding that one special man to call her own. She’s knee deep into her thirties, near depression, and drowning her sorrows in pints of premium ice cream.
When she falls for a waiter named Matt
in her favorite restaurant, her insecurities do their best to thwart her plans
of true love. It isn’t until she picks up one last romance novel that she
realizes life cannot be lived within the ink splattered pages of an author’s
fantasies. She has one chance to set her life straight and snatch the one man
who gets her: mind and body.
Will Patricia take it?
Excerpt:
Excerpt:
The Black Room was the little place
Julie and I tried out after her divorce. A little kinky and a lot of fun, it
catered to people preferring to remain anonymous but wanting to have an out of
this world experience sexually. While I’m not the kind of girl that wanted to
be tied up all the time, it had its appeal. Thus, the handcuffs in my bedroom.
I hadn’t come across a man that I could trust enough to pull those bad boys out
lately.
Just the type of place to get all my
sexual frustrations out.
I passed through the usual check points
better than I thought I would. The high class of Black Room always appealed to
me. Per the code, I had chosen a satin red mask with sequined outline and
draping jewel strands. The color denoted I’d go for some light bondage. I
didn’t mind the occasional tied up and spanked session but the more extreme
side? Not on your life.
Eyeliner coated my lids and cherry red
lipstick adorned my puckered mouth. Make-up outside the club might be something
I shirked with aplomb, but it was a must to gain entry. Why should I care?
Tonight I would get pampered with the simple tap on the shoulder. If I didn’t
get picked by a man at the end of an hour, I could choose my partner.
Within the confines of Black Room, my
name was York. When I signed up, I gave the call name as a twist on my name. I
thought myself clever using a candy bar as a nom de plume.
I lounged on a Victorian chair, my
fuck me pumps a nice shiny red. My black dress conformed to my curves, and I
felt damn sexy. Any inhibitions I had
stayed in the car with the windows cracked until I finished my man meat
shopping spree.
Other members chatted away as my
gaze swept the room. I preferred to look disinterested, like a hard mark, than
exude desperation. Whether it was the truth or not didn’t mean I wanted my
hungry eyes to stray onto less than savory company. Black Room was high class,
but it had its fair share of drooling troglodytes.
The room slowed to a crawl as I
noticed my favorite plaything across the room. The black satin mask couldn’t
hide his appearance. His mannerisms within Black Room were too familiar to me.
My taut muscled specimen prowled the carpet like the carnivore I knew he could
be. The apex of my thighs moistened at his presence. I remembered each wicked
little escapade I had with this particular member. If I didn’t know better, I’d
think he window shopped until he came across my rack. With one glance in my
direction, I hooked in my bait. Already my heart slammed into my rib cage in
anticipation of his electric touch.
His code name was Tall One, and he
certainly fit the bill. He leaned in, and I inhaled that masculine scent
uniquely his. Whatever cologne he used danced nicely with his pheromones. I was
a cat in heat ready to scratch my name into his back as he rode me.
“My, York.” His words tickled my ear.
“In for some adventure tonight?”
“Can you handle it?” I breathed back.
“Why don’t we find out?”
I placed my hand in his, and he led me
away from the crowded room into a private one of his choosing. The lights dim,
he glided me in and closed the door behind us.
Deep mahogany wood on the bedposts and
luxurious red velvet hung from the peaks. A perfect centerpiece for our carnal
night of pleasure. My body curled against his chest, the ache to caress his
erection pulsing to my core. His fingertips glided along my shoulders. With
each caress, his senses reacquainted themselves with every inch of my flesh. I
groaned as his palms rubbed my nipples. They hardened instantly.
“My. Someone’s been neglecting
themselves.” He tweaked my tightened areolas, and I gasped. Masturbation was
second hand for me. Nothing compared to sharing a sexual experience with a
partner. Especially one as interested in pleasing you as you were them. I
always had that with Tall One. He’d chase all my sorrows away with one gentle
stroke along my clit.
My arms reached behind to run through
his hair as he lavished my breasts with attention. I ground my behind into his
hardened shaft. His breathy rumble sent shivers down my spine. With one yank,
he pulled the top of my dress down to expose my lacy red bra. His petting
frantic, the fabric of my undergarments heightened my arousal.
“I can’t hold it, York.” His hips worked
into my backside, his desire apparent in the thickened length straining against
his clothing.
“I was hoping for a little play tonight.”
My words were truth no matter how much my body ached to be rammed into by his
cock.
“Trust me.”
The timbre in his voice echoed.
“Always.”
His hands grasped the bottom of my dress
and yanked it up past my hips. He groaned when he realized I had gone
panty-free for the evening. His palm cracked against my backside, and I yelped.
“You little tease.” Another swat landed
on my bare ass. “You’re a bad girl, York.” His hand smoothed over my cheek,
cooling the hotness swelling from it before he gave me another punishing whack.
“Hands on the bedpost, young lady.”
Wetness pooled down my thighs as I
grasped the mahogany and velvet. The golden cord hanging down soon bound my
wrists. His searing lips claimed the nape of my neck as his fingers pulled and
teased my nipples. One hand ventured down to my wet core, stoking the flame
already ignited. I shattered to his demanding touch.
“Come again.” His gruff voice
commanded.
To add it to your Goodreads shelf, click here.
I like how this is in first person. I have always wanted to try that. Hmmm might go get this to see how it works.
ReplyDeleteLove the premise!!!!
'knee deep into her thirties' great phrase!
Go for it, Michaela :-)
DeleteSounds like a lot of fun ;)
ReplyDeleteIt does, doesn't it :-)
DeleteThanks for hosting me, Doris!
ReplyDeleteYou're very welcome! x
Deletelooks fantastic!
ReplyDeleteIt sure does. :-)
DeleteSound great!
ReplyDelete