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About the author:
My professional biography is as follows (I’m not sure why it’s in the third person, evidently that’s the rule): Grace Risata is a new addition to the literary world, having published her first two books this year. Grace is very excited to share her novels, My Dirty Detour, Mowed, and Nights in the Fast Lane, and she hopes you enjoyed reading them as much as she enjoyed writing them. Grace would like to thank everyone for giving her book a chance and she welcomes all feedback. Grace is happiest when reading, eating Portillos hot dogs, and patiently waiting for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
What inspired you to write your book?
An idea came into my head and refused to leave. So I wrote it down!
Here is a short sample from the book:
Jason didn’t take me through the front door, instead leading me around to his private back entrance. I would have walked right past it and not known it was there. A tall line of trees conveniently blocked his door, giving him an amazing sense of privacy should he wish to come and go as he pleased. I bet he already snuck out to go to the bar and bring chicks home. A man with his looks wouldn’t stay single for long in this town.
Jason opened the door and quickly ushered me down a flight of stairs. He hit the light switch and a soft glow lit the room, bringing it to life. There honestly wasn’t much to see. A queen sized bed took up one wall and there was a couch with a TV directly across from that. At the far end of the room, a door led into what I presumed was the bathroom. Directly across from that was a shelving unit full of boxes that looked as though they hadn’t seen daylight in quite a while. I could see dust floating around in a sunbeam that led up the stairs next to the shelves. This place could use a boatload of TLC.
“You’re not here for a tour,” Jason said in a throaty voice. I guess he noticed me checking out his new place.
“Why am I here then?” I stammered. Let’s get his true motive out into the open.
“Do you want me?” he asked. What? Where was this coming from? Could I be honest and admit that I sure as hell did? Or would that look desperate? Maybe I should play it cool.
“Huh?” Yes, I realized that was an awesome answer. I silently berated myself.
Jason took a few steps forward and got right up into my face. I could literally feel his breath on my lips. If he moved one more inch, this would turn into a kiss.
“I know you want me, Pepper. I saw the way you used to look at me. I want to make a deal with you. I want to fuck you until you can’t stand up anymore. No strings attached. I call or text you, and then you come over and take off all your clothes. I’ll make you scream until you lose your voice.”
Whoa. I stood there staring in shock. We’re not talking about the kind of shock you get when you hear that someone lost their job or got their house broken into. I’m talking like full-on shock when you look at your lottery ticket and realize that you picked five of the six winning numbers.
“I have a giant cock,” Jason continued, “and I would like nothing more than to have it buried balls-deep inside you while your hot pussy clenches around it.” Did I say five of the six winning lottery numbers? Let’s just change that to ALL six of those numbers. BINGO!
“Why? I mean, why me?” I whispered in a voice so low that I barely even knew it came from my mouth. I should have been thankful I was capable of rational speech at all by this point.
“I saw you cutting the grass,” he said. He licked his lips and continued, “I noticed your sexy ass bent over when you picked up sticks and flung them out of the way. I wanted nothing more than to bend you over, grab ahold of that, and fuck you raw.”
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