Gliding slowly in and out of her sweet heat, he rained kisses against her lips and face as he struggled to find his breath again before finally coming to rest between her legs, still buried inside her. Keeping his weight on his elbows, he lifting his head to stare down into her satiated blue eyes. “Jesus,” he breathed, awed by the force of his release and his love for her.
“No, my name is Harmony,” she teased with a tiny smile.
“Smartass.” He chuckled, dropping his forehead to rest against her sweaty shoulder as his chest heaved. “I love you, Harmony,” he whispered against her ear when he caught his breath. “You’re mine, darlin’.”
“For now, forever and always, Jacob,” Harmony whispered back as her arms enfolded him. “I’m yours.”
Settling against his side as he rolled to his back, Harmony sighed and thought about her life. A bona fide romantic, she’d always dreamed that Fate would send her a white knight of her very own to love and be loved by. In all her fantasies, though, she’d never imagined that Fate would send her white knight in the form of a hard as stone, tattooed badass that rode into her fair town on a Harley.
Now, as she rested in his arms, she had to admit that Fate might indeed be one fickle bitch, but she also had one hell of a sense of humor and incredibly good taste.
She couldn’t wait to find out what that crazy bitch threw at them next.
Whatever it was, she knew, she’d face it beside the best man she’d ever met.
Her best friend. Her lover. Her future husband.
Her Jake.
Yeah, Fate knew exactly what she was doing.
And now… they finally both had their Heaven together.
THE END
Buy Cain’s Salvation, Book One in the Passion in Paradise Series!
Playlist
Ring of Fire – Johnny Cash
What Makes You Beautiful – One Direction
Just the Way You Are – Bruno Mars
The Thunder Rolls -- Garth Brooks
Who You Are – Jessie J
This is How We Roll – Florida Georgia Line
Total Eclipse of the Heart – Bonnie Tyler
When the Right One Comes Along – Nashville cast
In My Arms – Plumb
Don’t Deserve You – Plumb
The Story – Brandi Carlile
Blink -- Revive
To Make You Feel My Love – Adele
Smooth – Santana
Radioactive – Imagine Dragons
Wanted - Hunter Hayes
Acknowledgments
First, we want to give our thanks to God – mostly because we managed to survive writing this book without being overtaken by frogs or locusts descending on our houses or, most importantly, being struck by lightning for some of the stuff we wrote. Jokes aside, it’s been a blast bringing this book to each of our readers, and without Him and His help from above, none of it would have been possible.
Second, we want to thank our husbands. The writing tag team known as Sarah O’Rourke has been blessed with two of the best guys in the world. Each of us is married to an amazing man that possesses the patience and sense of humor it takes to be saddled with an author as a wife. At the end of the day, we never promised them a rose garden, but they managed to make the flowers grow anyway – and that takes mad skills! It doesn’t hurt that each of our real-life heroes also know exactly how to handle his own true feisty heroine.
Third, we each want to thank our kids. Between the two gals that make up Sarah O’Rourke, we have a brood of four hellions. Thankfully, none of them seems to mind when the voices in their mothers’ heads outscream them. We must each let it be known that no TRUE wail for help was ignored during the creation of this novel. Once we actually heard the cries, that is. Yes, we are some lucky mommas, indeed!
Fourth, I (Crazy One) want to thank my mother, my biggest fan by far. She’s been our proofreader, our advocate, our cheerleader, our task master, and on occasions where the situation warranted it, our critic. Her honesty and kindness continually amaze and humble me. I mean, really, I’m not sure how many mommas out there would actually tell their daughter, “Your book needs MORE sex!”, but mine did! And, as usual, she was right. Then again, she mostly always is right. To sum up, my momma rocks HARD and I’ve been blessed to have two parents that supported my dreams from the moment I was born.
Fifth, I (Crazy Two) want to give a shout out to my Momma and Daddy, who, without knowing exactly what I write, have been supportive beyond measure. For weeks at a time, my mother helped care for my daughter (who has special health needs) so that I could devote time to editing, promotions, etc. There isn’t anyone else that my hubby & I trust completely to care for our daughter except my parents – and my little one thinks her grandparents rock!
Sixth, we want to give a super shout-out to Miranda at Mommy’s a Book Whore Blog. Without you, we’d never have had the courage to get our work out there to the masses. You’re the best blog tour hostess an author could have!
Seventh, we’d like to thank all the blogs and bloggers that have helped us to get the name ‘Sarah O’Rourke’ out there! If we listed all the bloggers who have helped us along the road during our writing journey, we’d be here all day...but you each know who you are and we continue to appreciate every single thing you do!
Finally...and most importantly!...we want to thank our READERS. Without you, these stories would be collecting dust on our hard drives. Thank you for believing in us and taking the chance on our work. We adore each one of you!
God bless you all!
The Two Crazies that are Sarah O’Rourke
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Amazon
Email
SNEAK PEEK - Ready, Willing, and Abel
Book Three in the Passion in Paradise Series – to be released Winter 2014/2015
Wedged between her toilet and tub, Patience McKinnon sat on the mosaic-tiled floor of her bathroom and stared at the seemingly benign white stick she held pinched between her fingers. She prayed for the tiny screen to remain unchanged and therefore harmless to her mental health.
Biting her full lower lip as she squinted down at the test’s window, she held her breath. Moaning piteously as a faint, but unmistakable, pink plus sign appeared behind the plastic display she thumped her head against the wall behind her. “Nonononono,” she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as she clutched the offending stick in her hand.
Cracking one eyelid a second later and taking a wary look at the stick again, Patience’s moan turned into a wail. The result had not changed despite the power of positive thinking. That was an inarguable pink plus sign. “This is not happening! Fuck you, EPT! Fuck you!” she spat, dropping the most recent test next to the eleven others that lined the edge of the tub – every single one of them mocking her with their positive results.
Rifling through the empty Dasani water bottles and pregnancy test directions littering the floor, she frantically searched for the plastic bag that held the untaken pregnancy tests. Finally gripping the blue and white Clearblue Easy box in her hand, she yanked it out of the bag, throwing the plastic to the side. Staring down at the cardboard in her hand, she swallowed. Hard.
EPT had done her wrong. First Response had let her down. Answer had let her with only more questions. And AccuClear was obviously confused.
Clearblue Easy was her last hope. Her only hope.
Tearing at the box’s flaps, she dumped the plain test stick in her hand and stared at it. “Okay,” she whispered, taking careful deep breaths as she stared down at the innocuous piece of plastic in her hand. “Here it is,” she continued, speaking to the stick like it was a sentient being. “I’m not mother material. Ask anybody. My sisters. My niece. My pastor. My OB-GYN, for cripes sake. He’ll tell you! He’ll even shout it from the rooftop. I am not the type of human being that should breed. Ever!”
Taking another deep breath, she lifted the stick to eye level. “See, there are two
teams facing off in this bathroom right now. Your compatriots over there,” she said, jerking her thumb toward the line of positive pregnancy tests, “they’re all on Team Baby. Don’t know why. Obviously they didn’t do their research about me and my minimal maternal instincts. And by minimal, I mean non-existent. I kill plants. Goldfish are goners in my care. When I was a kid, I had a cat. It put me up for adoption. My fault, too, I guess. I didn’t exactly share anything other than a golden shower with your friends over there,” Patience noted, nodding toward the tub. “My bad. I should have been more forthcoming. But you…you I’m giving respect. I’m being upfront and forthright about all the pertinent facts. That’s why you need to be on Team Barren. Team Barren is all about population control and keeping women that should not be mothers in any universe from bringing small people into the world that will be dependent on them for every whim and whimper. In my world, an empty womb is a happy womb.”
She paused for a long moment, then drew in a final full breath. “So, I want you to ignore the peer pressure from your pregnancy pals over here,” she demanded, sweeping a hand toward the neat row of tests on the ceramic ledge of the tub. “Stand firm in the face of adversity. Sometimes being negative is a positive for all parties involved,” she stated, pleading her case to the inanimate object with a passion that would make any judge proud.
Staring at the white stick a moment longer, Patience shook her head as she realized that she was, indeed, losing it. Hell, she’d lost it that night four weeks ago when she said, ‘Yes, please!’ rather than ‘Hell, no!’
Such was the influence that Abel Turner could wield when he set his devious mind to something.
The fact that the attorney possessed a wickedly talented tongue not only inside the confines of the courtroom, but out of it, too, hadn’t hurt where his seduction scheme had been concerned, either.
Oh, he’d gotten his do-over with her a month ago, proving without a doubt that his penis possessed magical powers – so much so that it appeared he’d impregnated her!
Unless a dozen tests were wrong.
Dropping her gaze back to the one untaken exam she had left, she squared her shoulders.
“Lucky number 13,” she muttered, climbing back to her feet and moving to the toilet. “Don’t fail me now.” Quickly, she did her business, setting the stick on the sink to wait the mandatory three minutes for a result. Flushing the commode and rinsing her hands, she stared at her pale reflection in the mirror and wondered how this was happening to her.
She was careful, dammit; she’d been on the all-powerful birth control pill since she was sixteen years old. Not that she’d needed it. Nope, she’d just wanted to be prepared. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t easy. People just assumed that somebody as outspoken and opinionated about sex as she was naturally was actually indulging in America’s favorite pastime.
Their mistake. She just never bothered correcting them.
For her part, she’d always been so selective about who she invited into her vagina; therefore, it was mystifying how she had absolutely no input whatsoever as to who came out of it. Hell, despite her diversified dating history and wicked reputation, she’d asked exactly one man to partake in a bite of her cookie.
One man!
Sure, she’d extended the invitation two times, but the first time had been a complete dud. She’d been a virgin and he’d been…for lack of a better word, disappointing. Her first sexual experience had been awkward, uncomfortable and yeah – you guessed it – a dud. He’d been drunk, she’d been a novice and things had gone downhill from there. Oh well, live and learn, right?
Wrong.
She hadn’t learned. Not even a little bit.
She’d allowed a second shot to the man that had poorly initiated her body to sex. Look where that bright idea had landed her bony ass.
That’s right, folks. In the middle of pregnancy-infested waters!
Although, she had to admit that Abel Turner had made up in spades for that first lackluster intimate dance they’d shared three years ago. A mere month ago, thanks to indulging in a little too much Cuervo Gold on her part and him partaking in a shade too much Jack Daniels, she’d allowed Abel to convince her that giving him a do-over was the only fair thing to do. She blamed the tequila and her hormones. He thought it was his mad skills that had changed her mind.
Either way, the second time they’d done the horizontal mambo had yielded her more than her fair share of orgasms. Seven of them to be exact.
Unfortunately, that long night had also produced another unforeseen result.
Unless Lucky #13 said differently, she reminded herself hopefully as she sank back to her spot between the toilet and the tub to wait and eyed the test stick nervously. Leaning her head against the wall, she sighed and remembered the path she’d taken that had led her here.
Hard as Stone (Passion in Paradise: The Men of the McKinnnon Sisters) Page 51
