Jeremy’s not about to let a few numbers get between him and the woman he’s dreamed of since high school. Can Mrs Valentine do the same?
Jeremy Callahan has been in love with his next door neighbour, Miranda Valentine, since he was fifteen years old. As a teen, he used to watch her, fantasising about how he could make her his. But he never acted on it. Miranda was older, married, and out of his league. Forced to return home ten years later after being injured on a photo shoot, all those old feelings return, and this time there’s no reason to keep them at bay. She might be a decade older than he is, but Jeremy’s not about to let a few numbers stand in his way.
Since her husband’s death, Miranda has been left with a big hole in her life. Never able to fulfill her dream of becoming a mom, she isn’t sure what to do with herself. She certainly didn’t expect to find the most gorgeous man she’s ever met next door. She can’t believe Jeremy Callahan is that sexy younger man, or that he’s had a crush on her for years. When he kisses her, all bets are off. Jeremy’s young, handsome and makes her feel more than anyone has ever before.
But she knows he can’t want the same things she does. Surely he isn’t ready to settle down and start a family, but she’s running out of time. Will her dream of being a mother keep her from the man she loves? Or can they find some middle ground where they can both get everything they desire?
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of voyeurism and some very inappropriate activities on a kitchen counter.
General Release Date: 8th August 2014
“You need to get out of there, buddy,” Brett declared.
Jeremy huffed into the phone. He didn’t need his best friend to tell him that. He’d been back in his childhood bedroom for three weeks now, while the damn bone in his leg healed. Being waited on by his mom, unable to even leave the house, was driving him stir-crazy. After years of moving from place to place searching out the next great photo, sitting still was taking a serious toll on his mental state.
“Are you offering to let me stay at your place?”
“Fuck no. I like you, dude, but not that much.” Brett chuckled into the phone. “I’m not giving you a sponge bath.”
They both laughed. Best friends since elementary school, they’d done a lot for each other, but they had their limits.
“I can bathe myself, dude.” It required a plastic garbage bag and a few strips of duct tape, but he could do it. “I’m not that handicapped. I just couldn’t get up and down the stairs to my place.” His third-floor walkup in the city had seemed cool and Bohemian before his injury. Once he healed, he’d be looking for a new apartment in a high rise with a doorman and an elevator. Maybe a condo in a neighborhood that would be good for families.
He’d been thinking a lot about the future since his injury, not that he’d admit it to his buddy. Maybe it was the staying still, or maybe it was the injury itself, but the call of the road had tamed down to a gentle breeze. The idea of coming home to someone was starting to sound appealing. If it was the right person.
“Isn’t there somewhere you can go for a little while? Just for a break.” Papers rustling echoed over the phone.
Brett must be at work. The man worked from dawn to midnight some nights. Not that Jeremy could say much. He put in a lot of hours at his job too. But at least it wasn’t in an office.
Jeremy knocked his fist against the cast on his right foot. “Can’t drive with this thing, and I won’t get far walking.” All he could do was sit and think. About everywhere he’d been and where he might be going next. He’d never been much of a thinker. He was a doer. Whenever he’d seen what he wanted, he’d gone after it. Now, all he could do was spin his mind in circles.
“There’s got to be something you can do,” his friend declared.
But the words didn’t register with Jeremy. All he heard was the slam of a door. He stilled. His heart sped up and his cock perked to attention. It was a sound he knew well. A sound he’d waited for so often as a teenager and had now begun to anticipate each night since returning home. It was one of the few joys he had since he’d been stuck back in his childhood bedroom.
Next door, Mrs Valentine, the school librarian and the star of his every adolescent fantasy and most of his adult ones, shut her front door. He held his breath, waiting for her to walk through the house to her bedroom that stood across the small twenty-foot lawn from his own.
“Mrs Valentine’s home,” he whispered, even though, logically, he knew she couldn’t hear him through the walls of two houses.
“Are you fucking kidding me, dude? Mrs Valentine?”
Brett groaned, and Jeremy understood his pain. Just the thought of Mrs Valentine had Jeremy’s balls tightening and his dick hard.
“You were always the luckiest shit in school to live next to her.” Brett’s voice rumbled in his ear.
The sound distracted Jeremy—momentarily—from the beautiful sight before him. Jeremy wasn’t the only one who’d had a crush on the school librarian.
Willa Edwards has dreamed about being a writer since she was four years old. When she picked up her first romance novel at fifteen she knew she'd found her place and she's never looked back.
She now lives in New York, where she works with numbers at her Evil Day Job and spends her nights writing red-hot tales of erotic romance. When she's not at her computer, you can usually find her curled up in bed with her two furry babies, her nose pressed to her ereader.
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Inspiration
Many people ask where I get my ideas, what inspires my stories, and the answer is not simple. I get ideas all over the place. From TV shows, songs on the radio, stories I hear from my friends and coworkers. I’ve never been a writer waiting for an idea. If anything I have too many.
But by far the biggest place I get inspiration from is submission calls.
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