BLURB:
Welcome to Part Time
Lovers.
This is your invitation
to play, to experiment, to fulfill your deepest, darkest fantasy or get down
and dirty—and then walk away.
No regrets, no
recriminations, no rules.
We want you to make the
rules for your encounter. There are no forms to complete, no wish lists, no
compatibility tests. Just jump right in. Part Time Lovers is about hooking up
with the right person for right now.
We know your desires
change—maybe even from one day to the next—because ours do. We created this
website to accommodate every single one of your desires.
This week you might want
a quick fuck, next week that high school fantasy or the hot vampire you just
read about in your favorite book. Part Time Lovers is the place for you to find
your dream lover.
So come on in. Someone
is waiting for you.
Mercy and Jules
EXCERPT:
“Mercy,” he said, savoring her name
in his mouth. “Please. Let me offer you some wine. It is very good. I asked the
sommelier to chill it a bit, as we often do at home in the summer.”
He poured her a glass of the Rioja
he’d ordered and smiled. “Salud,” he said. “I am so happy to see you.”
That was an understatement. It was not
that he hadn’t loved other women over the years. He had. In his mind, women
were made to be loved, and he did his best to love as many of them and as well
as possible. He’d had a few more serious relationships, but he’d always managed
to step back before they became permanent.
Rafa knew this trip was more than
business, more than sex. He needed to see Mercy, needed to get her out of his
head. Out of his blood. Out of his heart. And he needed to be honest with her.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Watching her face, he saw first
confusion, then consideration, and finally knowledge.
“Rafa? My Rafa?”
He understood immediately what her
words meant, and his heart skipped a beat. He had wondered whether he had
imagined her interest in him, if his love—and even all those years ago, even as
a hormone-ravaged teenage boy, he’d known exactly what he felt for her—had been
returned.
Perhaps, he told himself, she was
interested, but maybe not as much as he was in her. It was more than he had
yesterday and, for now, it would have to be enough.
“Rafael Alvarez. And yes, your Rafa.”
It was far too early to admit that,
he thought, but saying the words felt important, a pledge of some kind. Tears
brightened Mercy’s eyes as he met her gaze.
“Querida,”
he said to comfort her. “Please. Don’t cry. This is a happy moment.” He hit
himself on the forehead. “Ah, I get it. You are crying because you are happy.
The women of my family do it all the time. It is often difficult for men to
figure out whether these tears are of joy or of sorrow.
LINKS:
AUTHOR LINKS:
AUTHOR BIO:
Kate Austin writes
women's fiction, romance, magic realism, paranormal, and erotica, sometimes
short fiction, sometimes poetry, and sometimes novels. She blames her mother and
her two grandmothers for her reading and writing obsession. All of them were
avid readers, and they passed their books and their obsession on to her.
Giveaway:
Rafflecopter Link: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/5ffd4d3114/
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love your comments. Leave me a comment and I'll return the visit shortly. Enjoy your day
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.