BLURB
Ellen Porter is a stranger to the single life--as much a
stranger as she is to facing her same-sex desires. The recent divorcee,
desperate to prove that her attraction to women is just a phase, enlists the
help of Madame Eve for one night of “getting it out of her system.”
Aimee Tran has had enough of the Los Angeles bar-hopping
scene. In pursuit of a genuine romantic connection, she discovers Madame Eve
and decides that maybe, just maybe, a one-night stand will tide her over until
she finds The One.
Neither woman expects lust to burn down their preconceived
notions—or to crave more than one desperate tryst.
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AUTHOR BIO
Skylar Kade, self-avowed hedonist and princess
extraordinaire, started her writing career after throwing aside yet another
romance she could not bring herself to finish. The run-on sentences! The purple
prose! Oh, the horror of it was just too much. So she sat down to write her own
tale. Her favorite part about writing is the extensive research.
She currently resides in sunny southern California,
alternately cursing the polluted air and adoring the weather. Skylar spends her
time asking the cabana boys to bring her more mimosas and feed her strawberries
while she dreams up her next naughty adventure.
She blogs at the SkylarVerse and with the Nine Naughty Novelists.
AUTHOR LINKS
EXCERPT
“I....” She shook her
head, terrified of the eagerness building inside her. “I have no idea what I’m
doing,” she eventually whispered. “I’m sorry. Contacting 1NightStand was a bad
idea, not fair to you at all.” Paolo might have been right. Her broken marriage
was her fault.
She moved out of the
balcony doorway but gentle fingers settled on her shoulders. “Not so fast,
hon.” Aimee’s voice pitched low. “It’s not like I know what I’m doing either.
I’ve never called up Madame Eve before.”
Ellen stared out over
the ocean, where her date’s beauty didn’t distract her and she didn’t have to
see the condemnation in Aimee’s eyes. “It’s more than being new to a dating
service.” She paused and swallowed around her embarrassment. Neither in her
mother’s house nor her husband’s had she been encouraged to talk about intimate
issues. She hadn’t even heard certain anatomical euphemisms spoken out loud
until her husband’s mistress ended up in their bed. Still, she forged on—Aimee
deserved an explanation. “I’ve only been with a woman once, kind of. You
obviously know what you’re doing and it’s not fair to you to be stuck for a
night with someone who—”
Aimee spun her around,
pulled her close, and twisted her fingers through Ellen’s hair. “Am I imagining
your arousal?”
Oh, Lord. Her lips parted. The other woman stood so near.
Her tongue flicked across Ellen’s lips and she bit off a moan. “I—”
Aimee pressed closer until their breasts squished together.
One of her legs slid between Ellen’s. “Am I imagining your little gasps of pleasure?
Of desire?” She bit Ellen’s earlobe. “If I am, tell me to leave. Because,
honey, right now your inexperience is turning me on.”
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