This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Joan Carney will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
The itch of ‘baby lust’ has prickled just under the surface of Tessa’s skin since she turned thirty. Five years have passed since her thirtieth birthday, and her obsessive nature has stoked the minor irritation into a full-blown fertility frenzy. She’s given up waiting for the right man to put a ring on her finger and, instead, decides to actively seek out a man with the right genes who will give her the child she wants with no further involvement. Love wasn’t in the plan, but Karma had other ideas.
Read an Excerpt:
Tessa’s eyes rose to the man’s smile, then darted away seeking a safe resting spot anywhere else in the room. Holy shit! It’s the man from the restaurant! Her breath caught as if she’d been punched in the throat. All at once her hands became burdensome accessories. She fiddled with her fingers, pushed non-existent stray hairs behind her ears, folded her arms across her chest, dropped them to her sides—she didn’t know what to do with them. Number recital, a frequent crutch, flashed a silent marquee in her head and she latched onto it to calm her breathing.
Dawn rambled on as though blind to Tessa’s discomfort. “Michael, this is Tessa Banks, my fellow bibliophile from junior year.”
A flicker of recognition made his lips twitch. Her muscles tensed at his slow blatant sweep of her entire body, but she nearly choked as he offered his hand to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Michael, I’m glad to meet you, Tessa.” A rich baritone voice flowed from his lips and sent ripples down her spine.
Her arm went out numbly to meet his while her eyes shifted back and forth between the couple. A sick feeling hit the pit of her stomach. Oh, my God, poor Dawn. Michael was the man who’d been at the other table the day she’d told Owen about her plan. She’d recognize that heart stopping smile anywhere. Dawn was no troll, but she wasn’t the slut in the tight red dress he’d been devouring with his eyes, either. Who was that woman, and why had he been with her when he had a wife and kids at home? Was he cheating on her? Did she know? What should I do? Should I say something?
About the Author:
A transplant from the concrete sidewalks of New York City to the sunny beaches of Southern California, Ms. Carney enjoys writing stories about women who are strong—whether by nature or circumstance—and the men who love and respect them for who they are. Things that make her happy are rainy days (too much sun is a bore), writing the perfect first line, family get-togethers, reading books that grab her heart, and finding new connections in her genealogy research. Bold coffee and dark chocolate fuel the artistic fire inspired by her family, friends, and psycho, lizard hunting cat.
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