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About the author:
Bernie Taylor is my debut book and to get an idea of my style there is also a short read, which is ideal for a 10 minute break or an insight into Bernie Taylor, called ‘A moment with Bernie Taylor, Room 112’ that is available from www.sleepinglionspublishers.com for free. What have I done today?…Well, I have thoroughly enjoyed getting stuck into the 2nd book in the series about the sexy Bernie Taylor and look forward to where the chapters first take me, then it’s over to you guys x
What inspired you to write your book?
Writing is something that I’ve wanted to do for a lot of years now but it seemed life got in the way until I woke up one day after having a flood in my home and thought, if I have no TV and no sofa to sit on at the end of the day, I should make the time count and so sat down at my desk which was fortunately upstairs and with a glass of red in one hand started the first draft of Bernie Taylor. I had always enjoyed Jackie Collins books myself or the central character of Bridget Jones, so I decided to have one main character. A sexy strong female called Bernie Taylor and write a story that I would enjoy to read, and so she was born!
Here is a short sample from the book:
Goodbyes and Good Mornings…
“Jesus, what fucking awful shoes,” she muttered under her breath as they walked towards her front door. It’s funny that after a few bottles of Pinot and a handful of shots, the eyes take on a different agenda, normally her friend Paula would notice these things.
As she opened the door, he lent in “We should do that again and soon,”
She pressed in tightly and kissed him. She felt words weren’t needed, especially as she was thinking the opposite.
She closed the door behind her, along with vague memories of the night before.
From what she could muster up in her mind, it had been a bloody good night, followed by a bloody good night of sex but probably didn’t require a repeat performance that is unless she happened to bump into him again and she let the Pinot do the talking.
As she walked back through her flat, she tucked her loose hair behind her ears and glanced down at herself. Shit she felt a mess. Being wild in bed is one thing but the look the next day is something else.
For a moment she stopped to work out what day she was on and glanced at a nearby calender that her sister had made of the family. Hell, it was only Wednesday. Her head felt like a Saturday morning or was it Sunday mornings? She would have to pull something out of the bag as she had an important presentation to pull off later and if there was one thing she was good at, that was closing the deals and today would not be different. She walked into her bathroom ready for the morning overhaul.
She sat herself down on wooden washing basket and lent back.
She felt tired, she had been working hard recently and probably playing a bit too hard and her face felt a bit tight, if not a little old. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind and then hoped that she could lay her hands on one of her recent purchases or one of her panic buys from QVC in her drawers, one that would replace 8 hours sleep and nearly 40 years of shit, well not all shit.
She got up and closed the bathroom door and switched on the shower. First thing on her agenda was to brush her teeth to get rid of this post party feeling in her mouth and whatever else was over staying it’s welcome.
The steam filled the room.
She undid her shirt that she had thrown on and dropped it to the floor. She had a great body for her age but events in the past years had changed her or worn her down a bit. She used to look at herself and see excitement and youth, dreams and plans flashing in front of her. In her twenties she had plans or hopes to be a model, an actress and or simply just bloody successful. She had got a great job now in a Design Company that she loved and a wardrobe to match but something she thought was missing. She was doing O.K but just felt and looked to herself weathered. If she’d been a dog and was found, the card in the newsagent window would read:
Lost dog, found on the street, definitely a pedigree but can’t tell as a little frazzled. Seems friendly and probably just needs some loving and a tidy up.
With the steam still filling the room, she sat back down, quiet and alone, she sat and gazed, just her and her thoughts and let the steam wrap itself around her. She dropped her hair down and it fell loosely on her shoulders and back. The steam formed perspiration that dripped down her arms and decolletage. Although she had been with a man the night before, this time it felt like just empty sex, just him and his bodily motions, following his own sat nav to destination glory. For her, more like a woman at a bus stop waiting and waiting for the bus to come to only arrive and pass her by, although he did get there in the end and the climax was worth the wait. She wiped the perspiration down over her body and over her breasts and took a deep breath. The water continued to trickle down her front to her stomach and down her legs. As she wiped the water off her body, she enjoyed the feeling of her own hand over her breasts. Her breasts were large and firm and rounded nicely at the sides and something that time had not taken away from her. She continued to glide her hand over her body, appreciating what she did have. Her stomach was O.K, not her best asset but the drinks never helped that area but as she stretched out her legs, she smirked as she knew, she always got compliments about her long legs. As she brushed the water from her thighs, she slid her hand up and tilted back her head.
Alone she sat there just her and her thoughts. She had been single for a while now and missed the intimacy of a man, it wasn’t really even that. It was someone touching her and knowing her. With one hand she caressed her breasts and the other hand found some guilty pleasure. She pleasured with a few small rotating motions with increased pressure every so often. Squeezing her damp breasts and allowing her mind to drift. The pleasure went through her body and she arched her back. Her breath deepened as she rode every moment. Passion blazed through her mind, thoughts, memories and desires engulfed her body. Her breasts protruded, her nipples pert and aching to be licked, wanting more and more and more. The voices and passion in her mind urging her to orgasm, she tried to fight it, to saver the moment, to hang on to the feeling of being on the edge. In her mind he was touching her, forcing her closer to that edge, she imagined his breath close to her neck. She gathered her breasts together as if offering them, spread her legs a little and before she can do much more, she soared over the ridge and rode the wave of pleasure. She stopped…satisfied. Now she was ready to face her day.