A PROMISE AT DAWN
by Jane Leopold Quinn
BLURB
Their affair
was scorchingly sensual
Faye Burke, recently widowed, retreated to the coast
of Maine to grieve and reassess her future. Her favorite part of the day is
watching the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s also when the man she
considers her guilty pleasure runs along the beach.
Gil Farrelly, a successful painter, is trying to get
his career back on track after the studio fire that destroyed everything. He
starts his creative juices flowing every day by running on the beach. The
lovely woman who watches him also gets his juices flowing and he’s determined
to reinvent his career by painting her.
Faye’s combination of maturity and sensual
vulnerability intrigue Gil and he wants to immortalize her on his canvas. She’s
flattered, aroused and ultimately frightened of the emotions he incites. He
claims not to care he’s younger by twelve years but she believes sooner or
later he’ll come to his senses and seek out women his own age. Can Faye conquer
her fears? Can Gil prove to her it’s not age separating them but her fear?
EXCERPT
“Was your studio here in this area?”
“Uh huh. Like you, I came up here a couple years ago to find myself.
Since the fire, I’ve been doing some landscapes. You’re the first portrait I’ve
wanted to do in a long time.”
She lay on her back, tilting her face to the sun, savoring the warmth.
She’d popped a slice of apple in her mouth, and he watched her chew and swallow
it. “Faye,” he began, shifting his body over hers.
She sighed and opened her eyes.
He didn’t waste any time. Through eyes barely open, he watched her
lashes close, watched her lips part. He kissed her softly. With light touches
and delicate sips, he tasted the sweet stickiness of the apple on her lips.
She didn’t respond. It wasn’t a rejection. It just wasn’t a response.
He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, holding himself
off her breasts so the only place their bodies met was their lips. It took all
his control to go slowly.
At first she didn’t touch him. Then at the same time she began to kiss
him back, she placed her palms on his chest, their warmth and pressure highly
arousing. She slid her arms around him and slowly pulled him down on top of
her.
Yes.
He took that for permission and rolled to his back, taking her, draping
her over his body. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand cupping her head
lightly, giving her the opportunity to break away if she didn’t like it. She
stayed, and he deepened his kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, claiming her,
delving into her welcoming and passionate response.
Her moans rose sweetly from her throat, then became deep growling
noises. Her hands cupped his face, held him. She massaged his tongue with hers.
His cock surged in response.
He rolled again putting her beneath him and slid his thigh between
hers.
Her body quivered, her hips undulated, pressing upward against his.
He moved his fingers to the buttons of her sweater and flicked them
open one by one, spreading the sides to reveal a pretty white lacy bra with,
thank the good Lord, a front clasp. Her eyes opened, met his with an erotic,
pleading gaze. The clasp easily opened, and her full, pale breasts spilled
free.
“Gil,” she gasped his name. There was no question in it, just pure
desire.
Slipping his hands under her shoulders, he pulled her up, brought his
mouth down, and latched onto a beautiful strawberry shaded nipple as erect and
hard as a little clit.
He uttered a soft grunt at her sharp cry, drawing on her, loving the
taste and feel of the tightly furled bud.
She clawed at his shoulders, writhing under him. “Yes, yes, God, yes.”
He delicately clamped her nipple between his teeth.
“Yes. Harder.”
He rocked the tip and lashed it with his tongue.
“Oh. The other one,” she begged with a breaking sob. She fisted her
fingers in his T-shirt, yanking, tugging at it.
He released her nipple and pushed himself up.
“No,” she cried.
He gripped the back of his T-shirt and pulled it off over his head,
tossing it aside. “I want to feel your skin on mine,” he murmured, and teased
her other nipple.
She gave herself so completely over to the torment of his mouth. He
could feel her fingernails on his shoulders. The harder she scored, the deeper
he drew on her nipple. They fed off each other, off the ecstatic storm of their
emotions. She cried his name, rolled her head back and forth on the blanket,
stiffened, and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. He felt her orgasm
in the vibration of the guttural groan from deep in her belly.
His heart soared, his lips tipped in an elated smile. Just giving her
this pleasure satisfied him more than he thought possible. She was an amazing
combination of reluctance and responsiveness. She thought her age might make
her less attractive? Ha!
A Promise at Dawn is available at Amazon
Amazon Reviews
"Good short story! Faye and Gil have
very hot chemistry, and their story is heartwarming. I was surprised at the
character development in such a short offering. Faye had suffered such a huge
loss, and we were drawn in along on her new path in life."
"Ms Quinn paints a detailed portrait
of a woman re-awakening after the loss of her husband. Her emotional state is
handled quite deftly. This story has pathos, passion and humor woven together.
Gil and Faye's story unfolds quickly and it's a scorcher."
Author Bio
Sensual fantasies were
locked in my mind for years until a friend said, "Why don't you write them
down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen and the unleashing of
my imagination later, and here I am with more than a dozen books published. The
craft of writing erotic romance has become my passion and my niche in life. I
love every part of the creative process — developing characters, designing the
plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories. My careers
have been varied — third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary — none of
which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write romance
full time — the best job in the universe!
Labels/Tags: artist, contemporary, erotic romance, older
woman/younger man, young widow
Jane
Leopold Quinn
My
Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality
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1 comment:
Thank you, Ashley, for hosting my book today!
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