Teaser Tuesday: Will

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Denise Alicea

This blog was created by Denise in September 2008 to blog about writing, book reviews, and technology. Slowly, but surely this blog expanded to what it has become now, a central for book reviews of all kinds interviews, contests, and of course promotional venue for authors, etc

 

If It Feels Good, Book 3

 

Women’s Fiction / Paranormal

Date Published: July 21, 2023

 

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Sarah collects and sells antiques, and she lives in a fantasy world of her
own creation. When she’s transported to another universe, she meets
the man of her dreams, but he wants to teach her how to find pleasure in her
“real” life.

Will Loudon is Sarah’s pleasure trainer. He’s also an
honest-to-God English earl — the exact sort of man Sarah reads about in her
forbidden books. He does such a good job of teaching her to find real
pleasure, neither of them wants her to go home.

 

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Alice Gaines

 

The dust in the old attic made Sarah Meadows sneeze, but she wouldn’t
have been happier anywhere else in the world.

“You sure you want to look through this ancient stuff?” Mr.
Gamble, the owner of the house, asked from where he stood on a ladder behind
her, his head poking out of the entrance to the attic.

“You said your wife saved everything,” Sarah answered as she
scanned an assortment of old trunks, boxes, and antique furniture someone
had found the strength to haul up the ladder.

“Never could get her to throw away anything,” he answered.
“As soon as you’ve found everything you can use, I’m going
to clean it all out.”

“I’m very grateful to be the first dealer you’ve had up
here,” she said. “I’ll pay you a fair price for anything I
find.”

“Guess that’s all it amounts to… a little bit of
money.” He sighed. “Anything’s helpful these days.
I’ll leave you to it.”

Which he did. Left her all alone in the relics of his wife’s life.
Poor man. She’d probably find something she could sell in her shop.
Then, she’d refer Mr. Gamble to a few businesses that could help him
empty his attic in preparation for selling the house. This couldn’t be
a joyful enterprise for him. It might be for her.

Dressed in grungy clothing for a dirty job, she got to work. The first box
held a bunch of record albums. Vinyl was making a comeback these days. She
pulled one of the discs out of its protective sleeve and did her best to
scan it for defects in the dim light. Looked pretty good.

The next box had pots and pans. Nothing much there. She hauled herself to
her feet and approached what looked like a lady’s dressing table. The
wood was dinged, but it could be restored. Polished, it could make a lovely
piece for a period boudoir.

One drawer held a hand mirror. Again, wood. Potentially salable. She
glanced into it and almost dropped it. It wasn’t a mirror, after all,
but the framed picture of a man’s face.

Okay, that shouldn’t have startled her. Maybe the lady who’d
owned the piece kept her lover’s face framed in her dressing table. It
sure didn’t look like Mr. Gamble, though. In fact, his wicked smile
and scandalously long-ish hair fit more with a wealthy rake of another
century. Maybe the piece was older than she’d thought.

“Don’t be frightened,” a man’s voice said from
somewhere in the attic. A voice with a very distinct English accent.

Her heart started beating like crazy. “Who’s there? Mr.
Gamble?”

That sure hadn’t sounded like Mr. Gamble. Neither did the laughter
that followed her question. Even without having heard the actual voice of a
wealthy rake, she recognized it as such.

She’d read about such voices in her favorite novels. She’d
never expected to hear one. She put her hand over her heart and did her best
to keep breathing.

“That wasn’t a picture,” the voice said. “It was my
reflection.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said with as much
authority as she could muster. “Who are you, and where are
you?”

“Over here,” came the answer. But there was still no indication
of the direction it came from. Rather, it seemed to be everywhere.

Crap. She wasn’t staying up here with some stranger who could be
deranged for all she knew. Who hid out in attics? Instead, she got up and
walked slowly toward the ladder. She’d tell Mr. Gamble he had a
prowler, and once the police had evicted said prowler, she’d
return.

“Don’t go, Sarah.”

He knew her name. How? She stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn
around.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the voice said.
“I’m here to fulfill your dreams.”

What did a formless voice know about her dreams? She hadn’t shared
them with anyone because they sounded ridiculous, even to her own ears. To
live in a former time that seemed to glitter so much on the pages of novels
and in the movies. Back then, most common folk, like her, had led difficult
lives with no real education and folk remedies their only health care. But
the gowns and the balls. The architecture and art. The manners. Today seemed
so coarse compared to that.

“Come find me, Sarah.”

Oh, that accent, like butter on a scone to be covered with jam and clotted
cream. Wise or not, she was going to find him, so she might as well set
about it. But where?

 

About the Author

USA Today best-selling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous
and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination,
highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from
U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, where she sings in her
church choir.

 

Author’s Instagram and Twitter: @AliceGaines

 

Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

Purchase Your Copy Today

 

 

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