Cara Carson only wants one thing, and it isn’t a man. Since the tragic death of her husband, she has focused on creating a business she could give herself to, a ‘marriage’ that will never leave her stunned in grief. Her recipes are perfected and the old house remodel is underway. But on this raw March morning, the contractor isn’t returning her calls, there’s a bulldozer mired in mud on the side lot, and the man operating it has managed to destroy the huge old willow tree she wanted saved. Furious, she charges across the mire to demand answers and finds her feet stuck and then her heart flailing after the bulldozer operator has to come carry her out.
Morgan Woods never believed in love. Until now, it’s been easy to take and leave women. This woman shouldn’t be any different, except something about her pouty pink lips and her blazing hazel eyes sails past all his defenses. His business-partner dad is sick and his businesses are struggling, but he never wants to let this woman out of his arms.
Can two broken people find a way to trust again? Or will their mistakes only add more layers to the scars already shrouding their hearts?
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ExcerptMorgan watched her mouth move but the words were sliding right past his comprehension. He gazed back at her eyes, angry hazel eyes with dark lashes and expressive eyebrows that moved with each fresh cadence of her voice. All of it rolled over him like a hot shower, exciting every last inch of his flesh. He closed his eyes briefly and ran a rough hand over his face.“Ms. Carson,” he finally inserted. “There’s a spring. I was one of the two men you saw out there today. It’s too wet for our equipment. We shoveled a drainage line to the back of the property. We’ll know more tomorrow about the surface involvement of the spring, but it’s in the process of flooding the old basement.”Her brow furrowed and her voice rose to a squeak. “What?”He shook his head tiredly. “Yes,” he said patiently, “and this is why it’s a good idea to engage a civil engineer to develop a site plan. Until we figure out how to contain the spring, there’s no use pumping the basement or doing anything else on that lot.”“But my deadlines.”He stifled a laugh. As if all this would unfold like a card game. “This is construction. You can’t possibly expect to hold to a strict timeline. Stuff happens.”“Damn it, that’s not what Mr. Woods told me. I have things planned. It’s absolutely essential that we are ready to open by August 15. That’s the grand opening date…”She kept talking but the words washed over him. Warning bells clanged in his head as he leaned toward her, but he didn’t care. He pulled her against him, lowered his mouth to her irresistible lips, and fell into her enchantment.
Until recently, sex scenes in most books erupted behind closed doors. I hated that fade-to-black point in a story. Why has it been acceptable to describe the details of violence, hate, fear, anger, and greed, but not the up-close-and-personal descriptions of touch, desire, and love?
I feel fortunate that modern sensibilities in publishing mean sex scenes now keep the bedroom door open. For those of us interested, stories can show readers the tingle of flesh and follow through to the heavy breathing and sweaty finish. It's about damn time.
I like to show a process in my stories where discovery or acknowledgment of sexual pleasure or desire is key to character development. Just like in real life. I believe sex can be a truly transformative experience.
Reading has been a passion in my life. My bachelor's degree as well as some graduate work focused on writing. Marriage, children, and a career limited my writing time for many years, but I'm back to life on my own terms now. So look out--more sexy stories on the way!
Find Lizzie at the following places:
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLizzieAshworthAmazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Lizzie-Ashworth/e/B00DJWDJHC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_4?qid=1397236426&sr=8-4