An encounter with a musician at a local pub forces Ember into making a decision to let go or hold on for dear life as passions are unlocked and deceptions revealed.
This is the first book in the November Blue series.
“Hey,” he said as he rocked his shoulder in to mine, “that was crazy good. I’ve never sung that song live before either.”
Bo’s shoulder paused on mine as he placed his elbows on bent knees, dangling his pint from his long fingers. He slipped off his black Sperry’s and dragged his toes through the sand. Even his feet are sexy.
“Still, you’re an asshole. I nearly fainted!”
My scalp tingled as he brushed my hair aside, dancing his fingers across the back of my neck. His hands were tight, like guitar strings, and just as delicate. Despite the callused fingertips that come from years of plucking, their graze was soft and inviting.
“Forgive me,” he chuckled as he pressed his thick, soft lips on the spot where my neck meets my shoulders.
“K,” I sighed as I turned my lips to his.
He grabbed my chin and turned my face away as he worked his lips from the base of my neck to my ear. Nothing inside me had recovered from the night before, but I was nearly panting for more. I felt utterly helpless as his lips grazed my ear a second time. All I could do was kiss the top of his head, which caused him to right himself and look me straight in the eyes. I leaned forward and pressed my lips into his sharp jaw line. His breath stopped for a moment as I pulled my lips away and returned them to his neck. Our pint glasses hit the sand, and he placed both hands behind my head. Once again, his eyes held mine captive.
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Andrea Randall is a 2005 graduate of Cornell University and currently lives in Western Massachusetts with her husband and three children.
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