Three tales of a not quite perfect relationship:
An Almost Perfect Meeting: Does the right place and the wrong time equal the almost perfect couple?
When Pam Kimball’s plans to play
Janet at a Rocky Horror Picture Show get derailed, she’s determined to
go on with the show. She commandeers the first guy she sees—a tall,
sexy, geeky stranger—to be her Brad. The guy knows nothing about the
show, but plays along, stunning her with a kiss in the middle of the
performance. Pam feels his interest while they dance and decides to make
a bold next move.
Roger Ware’s come for a midnight showing of a classic movie, only to
find a cult classic playing instead. To make it worse, he’s dragged onto
the stage by a forceful brunette who won’t take “no” for an answer. Not
that Roger wants to say no after one impulsive kiss gets him fired up
for more. When Pam invites herself over after the show, her seduction is
clear, but will it continue once Roger reveals one embarrassing secret?
An Almost Perfect Christmas: Is love enough to make their Christmas perfect?
As Pam Kimball and her computer geek boyfriend, Roger Ware, prepare to
celebrate their first Christmas together, Pam is having doubts about
their relationship. Roger can barely stop working at his new software
business long enough to join her under the tree. And when he does, her
present to him backfires, bringing their lovemaking plans to a crashing
halt. So when Roger announces his plans to leave after Christmas to
visit his family have changed and he won’t be back for New Year’s Eve,
Pam fears the worst. Does the man she loves really care for her, or
might a break-up be her present this Christmas Eve? Will there be enough
magic in the air to turn this disastrous Christmas into a perfect one?
An Almost Perfect Night: Can their love turn “almost perfect” into one perfect night?
Pamela Kimball’s birthday present, a One Perfect Night adventure,
promises to jump-start her life, put a new man in her bed, and help her
forget her past. Unfortunately, movie-buff Pam’s Pirates of the
Caribbean fantasy takes an alarming wrong turn when she’s abandoned on a
not quite deserted island—with ex-husband Roger Ware.
Forced by hunger to accept
Roger’s offer of dinner, Pam realizes the geek she used to be married to
has transformed into one of the most charming, sexiest men she’s ever
met. His newfound confidence—and hot body—re-kindles old fires. A simple
kiss leads Roger to challenge her to discover how much his lovemaking
skills have improved, leaving Pam torn between self-preservation and
burning desire.
With time running out before
they’re rescued, Pam must decide if her heart can survive the
consequences of becoming Roger’s “almost” perfect night.
Excerpt
#1 from An
Almost Perfect Night
“If
you’re skinny dipping, you forgot to remove one very important
piece of clothing.”
She
shrieked and whirled around.
Roger stood
on the beach behind her, a green bottle of Perrier in one hand. His
gaze played up and down her naked torso, and his salacious grin
widened. “Mind if I join you?”
She gasped,
wrapping her arms across her chest to shield her breasts from his hot
gaze. “What the hell are you doing back here?”
“I came
to make peace.” He waved the bottle at her. “Thought you might be
thirsty by now.”
Her gaze
fastened on the green glass, her mouth suddenly dry as sand. She
stepped toward him then froze as she glanced at his face.
Roger
stared at her, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He wiggled the
bottle, challenging her to take it.
She’d be
damned if she’d accept anything from him. Not here, anyway. That
would make her feel weak, dependent. She eyed the condensation on the
bottle. A single drop ran down the side, hung for a second at the
bottom then plopped into the sand.
Shit. Right
now, she was
weak, dependent, and thirsty.
“Come on,
Pam. It’s only water.” He still held the tempting thing out to
her. Hell. She marched up to him, her steps as loud as she could make
them on the packed sand. Stopping an arm’s length from him, she
peeled one hand away from her breasts and shifted her other to cover
as much as possible. For once, she thanked God for a B cup. She
snared the bottle and shot him a look of triumph, only to realize the
bottle was capped. To open it, she’d have to use her other hand.
Furious,
she shifted her gaze from the tantalizing object to his gleeful eyes.
“Would you open this for me, please?”
“Suddenly
lost all your strength, have you, hon?” His eyes took on a hunger
she remembered. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen your breasts
before.”
“Then you
don’t need to see them again, do you?” Heat rose in her cheeks.
He was enjoying this way too much. “Come on, open it. You said it
was a peace offering.”
“And
these are part of the peace negotiations.” He stood, arms crossed
over his muscled chest, better looking than she remembered.
Not
fair.
“I’m
bored, Pam. My date still hasn’t turned up, so I thought I’d come
harass you a while. I’ll tell you what.” He reached for the
Perrier and unscrewed the cap, but didn’t offer it to her. “You
show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
“And why
would I want to see yours again?” She fixed her gaze on the bottle
resting at his hips, watching the carbonated bubbles rise to the top,
willing herself not to let her gaze stray toward his crotch.
“For old
time’s sake?” His eyes flashed with mischief as he tipped the
sparkling water up and started to drink.
She stared,
her parched lips opened in outrage. Glug,
glug. He was making that sound
on purpose. Was he going to drink the whole damned thing?
After
swallowing at least a third of the contents, he came up for air. “Ah!
Hits the spot every time.” He grinned. “Still can’t take a
joke? Too bad. Here.” He thrust it toward her.
Pam grabbed
the bottle with both hands and shoved the end into her mouth so
quickly the glass clicked against her teeth. Greedily, she sucked in
and almost choked. The exquisite lime-flavored water rushed into her
body to hydrate parched cells. Three more guzzles, and she breathed
deeply, satisfied for the moment.
She wiped
her hand across her chin where she’d dribbled and held the bottle
out to him, but his slack-jawed attention was riveted on her chest.
Which meant….
“You
still look fine, Pam. Mighty fine.” Her ex-husband licked his lips,
his grin reaching almost ear to ear.
“Damn it,
Roger.” She wrapped her arms around her breasts so fast she hit
herself with the bottle. If there hadn’t still been some water
left, she would’ve brained him with it.
He reached
down and slipped off his sandals then untied his drawstring, all the
while grinning like a fool. With one swift movement, he shucked his
pants to reveal a hard, tanned body, complete with a seriously large
erection.
She hadn’t
seen that
coming.
Excerpt
#2 from An
Almost Perfect Christmas
Pam Kimball sat in
front of their small but full Christmas tree, mashing down the tape
on the festive green and red holly wrapping paper, finishing the
final present, thank God. She grabbed the last bow, bright blue that
didn’t go with the paper, but the only one left in the bag. The
thought counted, not the wrapping, right? She placed the gift under
the tree on top of the small mountain of presents she had gotten her
boyfriend.
“Come on, Roger.
Christmas Eve is almost over and we haven’t opened our gifts
yet.” She checked the clock on the wall beside the front door.
Eleven thirty-five. Still enough time. She leaned forward and dug
through the pile, searching for the right box.
“Be there in a
second, babe.” The hushed, absent-minded tone carried from
the dining room where her boyfriend sat at his computer, eyes glued
to the screen as they had been all night.
“That’s what
you said an hour ago,” she mumbled, then seized the big square
package she had been looking for and carefully pulled it from the
bottom of the heap. “Now, Roger Ware. Or you’re going
to be sorry!” She added a playful lilt to the last word.
This was their first Christmas as a couple and she was determined it
would be perfect.
She had helped
decorate his small apartment by putting up the tree, draping woodland
garland around the living room, lighting a scented candle with a
balsam fragrance, and even putting electric candles in the two
windows. Now the room glowed with a romantic aura, lit by the candles
and the twinkling white lights of the Christmas tree. The local cable
company had even cooperated by playing White
Christmas starring
Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye. Her absolute favorite Christmas movie.
She breathed deeply, waiting for magic to happen.
“I’m here.
I’m here. Where’s the fire?” Roger plopped his tall
frame down next to her. Dressed in an old dark blue flannel shirt and
jeans he looked good enough to eat.
“Right here.”
She grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto hers. Tingles shot
down her arms—always did every time he kissed her. He settled
his arms around her and drew her closer. His tongue thrust into
her mouth, probing her with bold sweeps. Pam moaned and
clutched him, pressing against his chest until he toppled backward
onto the carpet with her on top.
He disengaged their
mouths long enough to say, “We should have started this in the
bedroom.”
“Oh, we’re
heading there.” In the two months that they’d been dating,
most of their evenings had ended with them making love. One of her
favorite things to do was to get him all hot and bothered. Like now.
She ground her hips against his and was rewarded with a groan from
above and hardness from below. “But you need to open a
present first.”
“But it’s not
Christmas yet.” He ran his hands down her sides, under her
jeans to cup her butt. “Can I open this one?”
Excerpt #3
from An
Almost Perfect Meeting
Roger
hurried over to the ticket booth, barely big enough for the girl
standing behind the counter to squeeze into. “One for the midnight
showing.” He forked over the seven dollars, grabbed the ticket, and
rushed through the doors. Apparently you had to see the beginning or
you’d never figure out what was happening.
The lights
hadn’t dimmed yet, so he glanced around, surprised by how packed
the theatre was. Where would he find a seat? Not down in front,
please, God. He headed down the aisle, searching for an empty seat.
He’d gone
down three rows when he began to notice the odd way most of the
moviegoers were dressed. Many wore black formal evening clothes with
multi-colored party hats. Others seemed to be wearing a very skimpy
French maid’s costume. Then there was one guy who looked like he’d
come from a meeting of Hell’s Angels. Most bizarre, however, were
two or three men towering over everyone on black platform shoes, with
their bare chests half-covered by a laced corset, wearing black
briefs and fishnet stockings held up with a garter belt.
What the
hell? Were they having a costume contest? He shrugged. It was
Halloween, after all.
Fuck it.
He’d come back next week, if Memento
was still playing, and enjoy
it without so much commotion. Roger began to slowly back up the
aisle. Maybe they wouldn’t notice him. He took two steps and bumped
into someone. He froze then turned little by little, afraid of what
he might see.
The girl
had dressed normally, for someone stuck in the 70s. She wore a yellow
coat dress, a straw hat with a wide brim, and had long, wavy brown
hair. Cute. Definitely cute. Not that Roger had any illusions that
someone like her would notice him. He hadn’t dated anyone since his
senior prom in high school and that, for lack of anyone else, had
been his cousin.
She’d
been talking to a guy in costume seated at the end of the row, and
he’d practically upended her into his lap. Before he could utter a
word of apology, though, she straightened and her face lit up as if
he were the answer to her prayers. His heart hammered.
“Thank
God.” She shoved a pair of black plastic glasses onto his face. “I
need a Brad.”
Had she
lost her boyfriend? He shook his head. “I’m Roger.”
“I don’t
care if your name’s Elvis, you’re Brad tonight!”
The petite
brunette grabbed his hand and hauled him toward the front of the
theatre. Too shocked to resist, Roger staggered down the aisle until
he stood underneath the twenty-foot movie screen, a completely
different perspective from any he’d ever had before. He gazed
around, trying to take it all in.
A few
people here and there had dressed normally and were sitting quietly,
waiting for the show to begin. Most of the oddly-dressed people
filling the theatre, however, were laughing and talking. Some were
hopping around then thrusting their hips in a very lewd way. Jerry
and Frank hadn’t mentioned such goings on. It must be because of
Halloween. No other explanation for so many weirdos in one place.
“I take
it you haven’t played Brad before?” The girl’s words pulled him
back from his contemplation of the madness surrounding him.
“Who’s
Brad?” Roger frowned, gazing down into her upturned face. Her long
brown hair didn’t actually suit her, but the big brown eyes did. A
petite powerhouse. He knew the type. Too much to hope she was into
computers too.
“Brad
Majors.” She stared at him as if the name should’ve meant
something to him. “As in Brad and Janet?”
He frowned,
bewildered.
Her eyes
got wide. “Oh crap, don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”
