It’s the start of a long and hot summer. Well, technically summer begins in less than three weeks but the breeze and sun are already putting me in the right mood. Over the summer of 2018 I’ll be doing a lot more authors features, sometimes twice a day. If you pass by my blog later today you will get to see a cover reveal of a long-awaited sequel of one kinky historical romance. Meanwhile, I present to your attention PE Kavanagh and her contemporary romance series, Friends & Lovers. Two weeks ago she released Book 2, Coming Home. I’d say it looks pretty sweet, smart and sexy. I think it’s worth checking out.
Home means many things to Ramona Barrett and none of them are good.
A family mired in politics and ample amounts of bad behavior have kept her happily far away. Even after her enraged mother escapes, her drunk father sobers up, and her tyrannical grandfather dies, she has no interest in re-connecting to those rotten roots.
If you’re looking for smart, sexy characters in a layered, emotionally-gripping story, Coming Home will take you there. This steamy, standalone contemporary romance has no cliffhanger, but includes characters you will meet throughout the series.
You can also sign up for an ARC here.
“I love the way we fit together,” he rumbled into her ear.
Like a lock and key. Like friends who became lovers. That gap of so many years now
“We’re good together, Ramona. Look me in the eye and tell me we aren’t.”
All the chubby softness of his youth had transformed into a rock solid wall of a man.
Sure, it had been a night to remember. Scorching hot. And wrong, wrong, wrong.
Ramona arrived at her door and remembered tiptoeing down that same hallway, like a delinquent teenager, the night before. Except she’d never done anything that courageous as a teenager. Mostly she just hid. Maybe if she’d had a chance to act out more when she was younger, she’d have gotten all this risk-taking out of her system. She’d heed consequences and be less impulsive. She wouldn’t find herself in a tizzy about some guy, wasting precious moments she could be spending with her father.
Exhaustion pulled her into the room, longing for rest. She’d hardly slept the night before.
How foolish, going to bed all sexed-up and excited. Sure, it had been a night to remember.
Scorching hot. Great material to replay during her many nights alone. And wrong, wrong, wrong.
Anger gave her enough of a spurt of energy that her clothes and shoes hit the ground with added velocity. That fucker. Lucas had made a fool of her. No. He made a fool of himself. How had he turned out to be such a louse?
As she looked around the room with bright pink walls, nostalgia weaved itself into the fist of her anger and forced it open. Too many nights had been spent cowering in her bed, wanting to be transported anywhere but there. It was his voice on the other end of her gold princess phone that had helped her calm down. Sometimes even his arms around her while she cried, helping her get to sleep. The boy and the man didn’t align. It was all too hard to believe.
She plopped herself onto the large bed, the only item in the room she could tell had been
replaced. Even the chair she and her brother had painted with orange polka dots still sat in the corner.
She slid between the cool sheets, so grateful that the day was over. There’d be plenty of
time tomorrow to figure out this mess. A good night’s sleep would help. Her eyes drifted shut as her body relaxed. Despite her room’s history, a sense of safety, the first she’d had all day, wrapped itself around her.
Heavy footsteps sounded through the house. Her initial startle passed quickly – it must be
Connor coming to check on Dad – but the sound continued getting louder and closer to her room. Maybe something had happened and he wanted to talk. He opened the door and she squinted at the silhouette. Something was different about the frame of the body, the line of the hair. Her eyes snapped open. It wasn’t Connor. It was Lucas.
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”
He stepped over her clothes and shoes, strewn across the carpet, and walked over to her
bed. “Because your father has yet to ever lock the side door.”
She sat up, trying her best to cover what was not being sufficiently concealed by her skimpy nightgown. “What do you want, Lucas? I’ve really had enough. Today was…”
“I know. It was a spectacularly shitty day for you. And I didn’t help things by coming after you that way. I wasn’t being rational. So, I’m here to apologize.”
“Really? You couldn’t just send me a text or apologize tomorrow?”
“No.” He took off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, dropping them both on the back of the chair. “Because I also came here to do this.”
Ramona watched, mesmerized, as he stripped down to his shorts and slid into bed with her.
The shock of it stole her ability to respond. It was all deja vu, although instead of sneaking into her room through the window, he had walked down the hall. And instead of her house burning with the rage of her parents, the inferno was happening inside her own body.
He turned her away from him and enveloped her in his body. He had always been bigger
than her, but the size difference had magnified. His breath brushed against the top of her
shoulder as he held the pressure that forced her to soften into him. Tension and anger gave way to grief. She closed her eyes and let the tears flow.
About the Author
PE KAVANAGH has been a professional dancer, MIT-educated engineer, corporate executive, spiritual teacher, and chef. These days, her favorite titles are author, mother, and hot stuff. Find out what she’s up to at pekavanagh.com.
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