#SampleSunday | My Favorite Second Chance

I wanted to share a sample from “My Favorite Second Chance” – Book 2 in The Lake Effect Series.



His eyes skipped from one object to another as he drove down Interstate 35. Movement caught his eye. A pair of uncomfortably high heels kicked to the floorboards. He brought his attention back to the dark road, dotted with twinkling pairs of red eyes. The intensity of Gwenn’s anger with her mother was palpable, but he had no intention of pushing for details.

A single sheer, black stocking swung into view…a tantalizing ornament, dangling from the rear-view mirror. He glanced toward his passenger and saw one creamy, white thigh—newly exposed—and a second, being released from its thigh-high prison. He checked his mirror once and saw no one behind him. He pumped the brakes and slid the car off the road as fast as humanly possible. She needed to blow off some steam. Who was he to judge?

She snapped her freshly removed panties into his face and moaned.

He struggled to clear his vision of the lacey intrusion and leaned his seat back as far as it would go.

Gwenn climbed over the console as he finished unzipping his smooth, black trousers.

Her mouth felt hot and wet on his. The hunger in her kiss electrified his marrow. The chemistry had always been good, but this was a whole new level of molecular excitement.

He pulled her down hard and her pleasurable sigh cascaded over him. She tugged at his earlobe with her teeth and let her tongue trace the ridges of his ear.

This was better than any fantasy woman. This was his fiancée. His future.


He woke with a start.

A flaccid sliver of grey light had infiltrated the dank blackness. The comforting numbness in his right shoulder convinced him that he had survived the night. He listened carefully and played his second favorite game—how long until they got to his cell and tossed in what he had come to call “breakfast.”

A key twisted in the lock. The door screeched open, the light blinded his nocturnal eyes and a metal tray scraped across the filthy concrete floor.

His hand searched toward the sound. Treasure found, his fingers encircled the spoon handle.

Slowly, painfully he crawled to the corner and scratched a hatch mark on the wall as he recited his “sanity” mantra.

“I am Sergeant Steven Hays. Today is day 2,189 of my captivity. I am engaged to Gwenn Hutchinson and I will return to her. God. Country. Corps.”

Steven slid the bowl over and forced himself to consume the foul slop it contained. He was emaciated and his mouth burned from canker sores. One thought kept him alive—his last, sweet, searing memory of her. Gwenn was his guardian angel and he intended to live long enough to tell her.


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