Talking Sense (25 page)

About the Author

Serenity Woods lives in the sub-tropical Northland of New Zealand with her wonderful husband and gorgeous teenage son. She writes fun, flirty, and sexy romances in a variety of romance sub-genres.

She’s won several romance writing competitions and is a member of the Romance Writers of New Zealand. She would much rather immerse herself in reading or writing romance than do the dusting and ironing, which is why it’s not a great idea to pop round if you have any allergies. You can check out all her books at
www.serenitywoodsromance.com
.

Look for these titles by Serenity Woods

Now Available:

Something Blue

White-Hot Christmas

Love in Reverse

Seven Sexy Sins

Six Naughty Nights

Sensual Healing

An Uncommon Sense

Making Sense

Coming Soon:

Five Exotic Fantasies

All six senses tell him she’s the one.

An Uncommon Sense

© 2012 Serenity Woods

Sensual Healing, Book 1

High school science teacher Grace Fox doesn’t believe in any of that woo-woo stuff. So it’s easy to laugh off her friend’s prediction that she’ll have swear-out-loud sex with the next man who walks through her classroom door.

Who knew that local celebrity Ash Rutherford would have the time to attend his daughter’s parents’ night? Or that the Viking lookalike would trigger an attack of klutziness? He may or may not see dead people, but he certainly got a good look up her skirt.

A doctor turned medium, Ash spends his days communicating with unseen spirits. When it comes to his moody daughter, though, he hopes down-to-earth Grace will give him some insight. The racy lingerie she hides beneath her prim and proper clothing is an added bonus he didn’t expect.

Their attraction is instant and blazing hot, but Ash has been burned before. His ex-wife didn’t believe in his abilities, and no way is he going down that road again. At least not until Grace accepts the possibility there might be life after death. And the ghosts of his past are laid to rest.

Warning: Contains a real live Viking, proof of life after death and sex on a 1970s sheepskin rug, but absolutely no Barry White.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
An Uncommon Sense:

His stormy-blue eyes met hers. This time, there was something other than amusement in them. Grace’s cheeks grew warm at the sparkle of interest glittering in their depths.

“There’ll be none of that,” she said before she could think better of it.

“Of what?”

“Any funny business.” Her cheeks grew even hotter. “I’ll help you, but it will be purely a business relationship.”

“Of course.” The amusement was back.

“I’m sure you usually only have to bat your eyelids at a girl and she turns into mush, but I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Actually, I beg to differ. I’d known you precisely two seconds and you swooned at my feet.” He winked at her.

“I did not swoon.”

“There was definite swoonage going on. You were practically Victorian.”

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve been called Victorian,” she said indignantly. She patted her bun self-consciously. “Mia thinks I dress too conservatively.”

He ran his gaze slowly down her and then back up again. “On the surface, maybe.”

She frowned, not understanding, then realised when he grinned he was referring to what he’d seen when she’d sat on the floor before him, legs apart. Her stockings and garter belt. And maybe even her black, silky teddy.
Oh God, I hope the teddy was covering everything. 

“Oh.” Her cheeks burned again. “You
did
see.”

“Sorry, but you were right in front of me—it was difficult
not
to see everything.”

“You didn’t have to mention it. That was extremely impolite.”

His eyebrows rose. “
You’re
giving
me
lessons on being polite?”

She thought about it. “
Touché
.”

Smiling, he tapped her nameplate. “Are you really a Miss? Or is that just school-teacher licence?”

“Are you asking whether I wear nice underwear for a partner or whether I wear it for myself?”

He hesitated. Then he grinned. “Yes.”

“Then just ask, for God’s sake. I hate having to rummage around in people’s words looking for the true meaning behind them.”

He nodded. “Duly noted.”

She zipped up her laptop case. “I’m single. I happen to like pretty underwear.” 

“So do I. So that’s two things we have in common.” Smiling, he pushed himself to his feet. “We’d better go. I think you’re getting the evil eye.”

Grace looked up, surprised to see they were the last two people left in the auditorium. Professor Michaels was standing in the doorway, tapping his foot impatiently, waiting to lock up. “Oh.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car. It’s dark outside.”

She put the register and pen in her bag, slipped on her jacket and walked with him out of the auditorium, nodding to the professor as they passed and apologising for keeping him waiting.

“Jeez,” said Ash as they went out into the cool night air and walked down to the main road. “What a weird guy.”

“I know. Mia told me I was going to have swear-out-loud sex with the next guy who walked through the door. I was terrified it was going to be him.”

He stopped walking and looked down at her, smiling. “And instead you got me.”

She glanced up. She was five-feet-eight, hardly short for a woman, but he still towered over her. He was like essence of man. She was acutely conscious of the way his shirt sleeves stretched across his generous arm muscles. “You’re not Robert Downey Junior,” she said, a little breathlessly.

He smiled. “No.” His eyes glittered in the light from the street lamp.

“You are gorgeous, though.”

He gave a short laugh. “You really have no control over what comes out of your mouth, do you?”

“Not when I’m nervous. It lands me in heaps of trouble.”

“I kind of like it. I don’t have to worry about what you’re thinking.”

“I can see how that might be appealing.”

They studied each other for a moment. An impish smile gradually spread across his face. “Swear-out-loud sex, huh?”

Her cheeks grew hot. “Mia’s words, not mine.”

“It sounds like an interesting prediction.”

“I don’t believe in predictions.” She swallowed. His eyes had turned quite hot. “Or swearing.”

“You don’t swear?”

“Never.”

“Not even during sex?”

Her eyes widened. “Mr. Rutherford!”

“Yes, Miss Fox?”

“I…” For once, words failed her. He was a man who thought he could speak to dead people. He was certifiable, almost certainly delusional, and quite possibly an outright fraudster. 

He was also the most gorgeous guy she’d ever met in real life, and the way he was looking at her made her knees go weak. She wrapped her arms around the laptop case as if it were a breastplate that could protect her.

“You’d be surprised how many predictions I’ve made that have come true,” he said, his deep voice husky.

She swallowed. “Well, for a start, Mia made up the stupid horoscope, and she’s usually about as accurate as a stopped watch.” Her voice was faint. “And secondly, there’s no such thing as the ability to see into the future. We exist at a fixed point in time. It’s not possible.” She lifted her chin determinedly.

He smiled. “Even a stopped watch is right twice a day.” His gaze had settled on her mouth.
Ohmygod, he wants to kiss me
.

She gave a little shake of her head. “You’re flirting with me.”

“Am I?”

“Men don’t flirt with me.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“I scare them off.”

He laughed. “Now that I
can
believe.”

“Don’t I scare you?”

He stepped a little closer to her. “Not in the least.”

She looked up into his dark blue eyes. Her skin prickled with his nearness. She
desperately
wanted to kiss him. But she knew she couldn’t. It wouldn’t end well. She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “I’m not your type of girl.”

“Oh? And how do you know what type of girl I like?”

She moistened her lips with her tongue, not missing the way he watched her. “I know. I’m sure you like confident women, who’ve read the Kama Sutra from cover to cover and know massage techniques and own special equipment.”

“You mean like power tools?”

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to be serious. I meant…” How on earth had she got herself into this conversation? She’d only just met the man, for crying out loud. “I mean, I’m sure the women you date are sexy and very good in bed and I’m…not.”

His eyebrows rose. “What makes you say that?”

“I…I’ve been told.” Her cheeks grew hot again. 

He stared at her. A frown marred his forehead, and something like anger shone in his eyes. Then, gradually, his smile reappeared. “Maybe you just need more practice.”

“I’m a schoolteacher who dresses like she’s stepped out of the Victorian period. How good in bed do you really think I am?”

His smile widened. “Dresses on the
outside
.”

He was talking about her stockings again. She moistened her lips once more. “Silky underwear doesn’t make a woman sexy.”

He gave a small laugh. “Oh, I beg to differ.” He gave her a curious, amused glance. “You are an
exceptionally
sexy woman, Miss Fox. And I am sure that, given the right location, the right encouragement and the right man, you would be
exceedingly
good in bed.”

Sometimes it’s not just the tide that rises…

Full Moon

© 2013 Mari Carr

Second Chances, Book 2

In the two years since her divorce was finalized, Josie Jacobson’s life has become one long, boring routine. Work, home, repeat. She has her hands full as a single parent, and while she’s not looking for a serious relationship, she sure wouldn’t mind getting laid.

When her friend, Zoey, challenges her to make a New Year’s resolution for a second chance at happiness, Josie goes one better and creates the “Howl List”. Every full moon, she will indulge in a different sexual fantasy. Right at the top? Sex without strings. 

Fate leads her to the Blue Moon bar in January. After all, what better place to howl? And when she meets Jake Stewart, the sexy bartender, and engages in some red-hot sex with a stranger, her year seems to be off to a great start. 

At least, until Jake declares he wants
all
her full moons…

Warning:
This is NOT the shifter story you are looking for. While the heroine howls during the full moon, she does it in naked, human-form only. Sorry—no wolves, but there is a really sexy bartender and lots of red-hot fantasies. 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Full Moon:

“Tonight’s full moon is sex in public.”

Jake choked on the drink and put the glass back down. “In public?”

She nodded.

“What the hell do you mean by full moon?”

Josie considered avoiding the question, but there was no harm in telling him the truth. She explained about her list and her desire to fulfill the fantasies.

“So what’s on the list? Besides the stranger danger and PDA ones.” Jake was exactly as she’d remembered him. Unflappable, fun, funny.

She shook her head. “I’m afraid the contents of the list are privileged information. If I told you, I’d have to fuck you.”

Jake grasped her shoulder, pulling her closer. “I’d have no problem with—”

“Jake?” A waitress stood by their table. She pointed to a couple of loud drunks by the door. “I think we might have trouble. You wanna take care of it?”

Jake sighed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right over.”

The waitress went back to work.

Jake leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “If you don’t have any luck with number two on the list within the next hour, come find me.”

Josie didn’t have a chance to respond before Jake rose and went to address the problem by the entrance. She took a sip of her drink, hoping it would calm her down. It was suddenly quite warm in the bar.

Josie watched Shelly and Lance dance, then gazed around the room. The place was crowded and there certainly wasn’t a shortage of men hanging around, either drinking alone or standing in large groups.

She spotted one large table across the room. It appeared the men were all out for a bachelor party. She found the groom-to-be instantly. The party must have been going for a while because the man had at least a dozen empty shot glasses in front of him. His friends were sending him out of bachelorhood in style. She slowly studied each of the men at the table, silently trying to decide which were married, which were mama’s boys, which were playboys.

Josie had never paid much attention to the opposite sex. Tony had been her first boyfriend. She’d fallen fast and hard for him toward the end of their junior year in high school and she’d convinced herself she was lucky. She’d honestly believed she’d found her soul mate at sixteen.

She closed her eyes wearily. The silly romantic girl she had been was long gone, leaving Josie struggling to figure out what her beliefs regarding love were now. Since the divorce, Josie had concentrated on setting up a new home for her and her son, working long hours to pay the bills, and avoiding the dating scene as much as possible because she refused to open up a revolving door of men in Tommy’s life.

She remembered too well how painful it was when her mother would bring home a new boyfriend, include him in every aspect of their lives, then yank him out again after the break-up.

Josie wouldn’t—couldn’t—do that to Tommy. The full-moon list had been created to protect him. And her.