Honky-Tonk Wild by Maria Hardin by maria hardin

In 1965, twenty-two year old Marine, Paul Helms, searches for romance but finds one-night stands. Sir Lancelot’s doppelganger, Paul, wooed a Northern girl before capturing Carolyn’s young heart with his turquoise eyes. Waves of romantic longing, teased by salty beach breezes, stir within the tempest. Carolyn Pettis, an eighteen-year old bookworm, taunts True Love to find her, if it exists. Romantic nuances surface as the three young lovers collide within kaleidoscopic patterns. The poets promised eternal love. But did Fate agree?

As time spins, Happily-Ever-After teases a mature Carolyn with friendship, in the guise of a tall, dark man with brown sugar eyes, versus sexual fantasies.

Then along comes need … as sexual heat threatens to swamp their beach with irresistible urges. What’s a woman to do? Direct her destiny! Romantic and touching story of a tempestuous woman deciding will she, won’t she …

A hotter version of this story, Honeysuckle Wild, by Eve Hardin, brings searing heat to the party!

SKU: B00MV5UF9I Category: Romance Tags: alpha male, beach, happy ever after, Second Chance Love, wedding

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About the author:

Even simpler is to travel from land to land via stories of the past.

What inspired you to write your book?

Writing Honky-Tonk Wild allowed me once more to whisper, “How do I love thee?”

Here is a short sample from the book:

A woman staggered in right behind Carolyn wearing a sparkling pair of royal blue five-inch spiked heels with peek-a-boo cutout toes. Carolyn’s purse matched the blue of the heels.
“Damn, these sons of bitches hurt,” the inebriated woman whined. The shoes she kicked across the vinyl floor. “Shit fire, first and last time I’ll put these bitching feet to work. My ass is worth $20.00 …And these goddamn shoes cost me a hundred!”
A night of firsts, Carolyn thought: lost my juke joint virginity, my faith in Paul and now, I’ve lusted after a streetwalker’s shoes. Four of the Ten Commandments smashed if you include the cussing! Damn straight it counts, the strait-laced puritan in her head whispered.
“Hey, honey, don’t be so sad …” Carolyn patted the woman’s shoulder. “A naughty thought’s a terrible thing to waste, don’t you think?” She scooped up one discarded shoe. Carolyn shook her head at the waste, and stared at the heels with an envious gleam. “Your hot blue spikes coo ‘Yes … I have a dirty mind, and you’re on it!’”
Feeling lightheaded, she drawled to the moaning woman as the redhead rubbed a blistered foot, “Just the thing I need to whisper to my man tonight …”The cadence of these words slowed until slow as Tupelo honey dripped from a bear-shaped bottle.
Making eye contact, Carolyn said in a now heated gush, “Would you please sell them to me?”
The redhead weighed the simple beauty of the girl with her ballerina slippers. “Cinderella, if you’ve got X-rated toes that say touch me, tease me, torment me … these shoes are made for your walking. I’m a romantic hooker; pay me fast before I change my mind …”
The two women exchanged footwear, but Carolyn’s white A-line silhouette dress, teasing the tops of her knees, sent signals of the inner quiet bookworm crawling into the room — despite the sexy heels’ loud disclaimer of adult rated content.
“Shit, girl, we need a belt to shorten that sack! Give me your purse …”
Grasping the long shoulder strap, the hooker reached into her pocket and removed a straightedge razor blade. Carolyn’s eyes rounded as she looked at the lethal metal.
“Prince Charming or Johns,” a raucous wink from a blue shadowed eye, “sometimes want to take nasty to a whole new level … No is easier done than said.”
Two minutes later, a belt clinched Carolyn’s waist with a brilliant rhinestone broach lent as a clasp.
“Now, the little dress hits at your thigh and you’re almost doable, Cinderella!”
As the other woman watched, Carolyn teased and fluffed her dark brown hair until locks wildly cascaded from a top knot onto her shoulders. The hooker’s big purse yielded hairspray, bright red lipstick and enough eye makeup to transform Carolyn’s pretty, green irises into bold, dramatic Sofia Loren cat’s eyes. Admiring her creation, the lady of the night, gave Carolyn a pep talk as they both looked into the mirror …
“Cinderella, the difference in sex being tangled sheet sweaty or dull, is not less skill, but lack of will. Go out there, girl, and burn your brand right on the bastard’s muscular arse!”
She slapped Carolyn’s ass and opened the door.
“Another good girl gone honky-tonk wild …” the woman wiped a tear from a blue shadowed eye.