Find more from this author on:
About the author:
She is a member of the Authors Guild, RWA (Romance Writers of America), SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators), and SFWA (Science Fiction Fantasy Writers of America).
What inspired you to write your book?
I’ve bee a writer for years, writing mostly SF and children’s books, but decided to try my hand at writing erotic romances after reading books by Raine Miller, E.L. James and Sylvia Day.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Sylvie followed her into the kitchen. It was gigantic. The cabinets were oak, the countertops granite, there was a large breakfast bar and the appliances were polished stainless steel. It was…HOLY SHIT! She nearly fainted when she saw him. Standing next to the refrigerator was a naked man! He was tall, muscular, and had a huge…”look at his face not his …” she kept telling herself. “No, no, no! Don’t look down!” But she couldn’t help herself. She had never seen a naked man before, just pictures. So this was what they looked like up close and personal. This was what all the fuss was about. She had no point of comparison, but from what little she knew he was well-endowed. As her fellow waitresses would say when they graded the men that came into the restaurant…he had “a real nice package!” Sylvie’s skin was on fire. Her face was turning purple. The color inched its way up from her breasts to her neck, and then to her face. Maybe her first assessment of her new employer had been right after all: he was a pervert! She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Her ears turned crimson. Large red splotches appeared on her arms and legs like she’d been scalded. She could barely breathe. The air was stifling, like a steam bath or a sauna. Her head felt funny. She was dizzy. The room began to whirl around her. The heat was unbearable, like a blast furnace. Beads of perspiration soaked her breasts and back, droplets of sweat dripped from her forehead. Everything was spinning. A wave of nausea seized her. She was going to be sick! Sylvie grabbed for the breakfast bar hoping to steady herself, but only succeeded in sending the plates, bowls and glasses set out there crashing to the floor. Her knees buckled. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Down she went!
Someone was sponging her head with cold water. Sylvie’s eyes fluttered open.
“It’s OK. You’re all right,” Mrs. Cosgrove assured her. “You just fainted.”
Sylvie tried to focus. There was broken china, shrimp, crackers, assorted vegetables, and puddles of spilt liquid all around her. What a mess! Sylvie was mortified. She opened her mouth to apologize, but the words stuck in her throat. Uh oh! Standing right next to her were a pair of hairy legs. At their apex was a large penis and a pair of dangling balls. She gasped and shut her eyes tight.
“Mr. Hudson, could you please put some clothes on!” Mrs. Cosgrove said in exasperation. “You’re scaring the girl!”
Sylvie retreated into the blackness. When she awoke she was laying on a couch. Mrs. Cosgrove was hovering over her. “Feeling better? You frightened us.”
“I am so sorry,” Sylvie apologized. “I didn’t eat anything today. Between the sweltering heat and the train ride up from New…”
Mrs. Cosgrove’s look silenced her. Sylvie wasn’t fooling the woman. They both knew what made her faint and it wasn’t lack of food, the weather, or the long trip. It was the sight of Connor Hudson’s manhood!
“Why in God’s name didn’t you eat?” a male voice demanded to know.
She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. He was now dressed, wearing a pair of well-worn jeans. Threadbare at the knees, they hung loosely from his hips. She felt weak in the knees. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his face before. He was gorgeous! He looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of GQ or an old Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. She couldn’t help noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. She could see the outline of his penis hanging at the top of his left pant leg. He turned slightly.
He had a nice ass. It was muscular, round, and tight. His hair was brown and sun streaked as though he spent a lot of time outdoors. It fell in waves and loose curls. Long dark lashes fringed a pair of large chestnut-brown eyes. He looked to be 6 foot 2 or 3 and there didn’t appear to be an ounce of fat on him. She always thought of male writers as being spectacled professorial types with no muscle-tone, large paunches, and big asses. Mr. Hudson was anything but. He must have spent his every waking hour in a gym. When did he have time to write? Six pack abs…check. Muscular chest with great pecks…check. Bulging biceps and rock hard forearms…check. He was shaped like a V, broad at the shoulders channeling down to a narrow waist and hips. His skin was deeply tanned. He either used a tanning bed or had just come back from a vacation. Strikingly handsome, his face was angular with high cheekbones straight sharp nose, and a deeply dimpled chin. The fact that he had a day’s growth of stubble on his jaw only made him look even more handsome. He had the sexiest mouth. His lips were plump, full, and fleshy. When they parted they revealed straight, even, brilliantly white teeth. He was all man from the thatch of course curly hair on his sculpted chest to the hairy trail that descended from his belly button to his now hidden groin. Mr. Connor Hudson was hot! Male model, movie star hot! Sylvie trembled. Not from exhaustion. Not from hunger. From him!
“Well?” he said, sounding irritated. “You’re not on some kind of stupid whacked-out diet are you?”
She shook her head no, then sheepishly admitted “I didn’t have any money. That’s why I didn’t eat.”
“When’s the last time you ate?” he asked, looking none too pleased.
“I ate something yesterday.”
“What? Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner?”
“If you must know…I had a can of peas.” Her face was turning crimson with embarrassment.
“That’s nourishing,” he said sarcastically. “And before that?”
Why the third degree? Why was he being such an asshole? She was tempted to tell him it was none of his damn business, but she couldn’t very well do that. She needed the job. “I had a package of Ramen Noodles the day before that.”
“You in the habit of starving yourself Miss Jenkins? Are you anorexic or something? You’re thin as a rail!”
“No!” she shot back, her voice rising in indignation. She sat up. “I assure you Mr. Hudson, I’m not anorexic. Just poor! I lost my job. I had no money. I couldn’t afford to buy food. The can of peas was the last edible thing I had in the house. But then you probably wouldn’t know about such things!” Sylvie glared at him.
Feisty little wench! He wasn’t used to having his employees talk back to him like that. Miss Jenkins would be a challenge. She needed a lesson in comportment. Connor rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Look,” he said eyeing her with measured condescension. “I’m not in the habit of having new employees report for work only to have them collapse on my floor suffering from malnutrition. I need someone who’s able to keep up with me, who’s got the stamina to work 24/7. That’s why I’m paying you top dollar. Can you do that?”
“Yes!” she hissed, trying to keep her temper under control. Sylvie struggled to her feet. What a bunch of unadulterated horse shit! The reason she collapsed was not from hunger but because she wasn’t in the habit of seeing her employer walking around with his big dick flapping in the breeze. Aargh! What a cold-hearted, arrogant bastard! After her first paycheck she was out of here!