Friendly reminder of emotional love stories to nourish your five senses & squeeze your heart! What goes on in your kitchen?
#1 RRP Hotseller
Genre: Mainstream Interracial Romance
Price: $4.99 Amazon/ $4.79 Coffeetime + CTR has my other RRP romances reduced
Angela allows Chance to offer her refuge after she learns of a long hidden family secret.
Chance ambled into the kitchen intending to rustle up a couple of sandwiches, putting the peanut butter, jelly and bread on the table. He wasn't a great cook but held his own as far as bachelor meals were concerned. He hadn't shopped in days and offered what he had available. Mismatched plates clanked in one hand as the other secured the milk carton and two glasses. The butter knife was the final item to the party.
Continuing, he asked, "Want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to tell. I'm a b*****d baby, that's all." A crimson stain flushed upwards indicating it started from her toes.
Her admission floored him.
"My father is a b*****d who treated my mom like a rug and loved his children like a drug addict loved getting busted. I don't consider that a reflection on me." He began slapping peanut butter on slices of wheat bread using the same knife to dip the jelly.
"Not the same thing I can assure you." Watching him fix the first sandwich, she stopped him before he moved on to the next. "Nothing for me. Thanks."
He saw the little wrinkle on the bridge of her nose. "Don't eat peanut butter?"
"Can't eat peanut butter. Deathly allergic."
"Oh. How about a jelly sandwich, then?" Chance's big bite lopped his sandwich in half.
"Can't." Beating him to the punch, she explained, "You put the peanut butter knife in the jelly. Any peanut residue can send my body into anaphylactic shock."
Chance opened an overhead cabinet to remove a fresh jar of apple jelly and plopped down a clean knife for her use. Angela dug in with relish, rewarding him with a semi-smile. "All these years," she licked at the jelly on her fingers, "and I never suspected a thing."
#1 Bookstrand Mainstream Bestseller
Genre: Mainstream African-American Romance
Veronica and Mike try to wind down after a horrific event that happened in the wee hours of the morning tests her trust in him.
Distress entered her eyes.
"I'm sorry for dredging up sad memories. Losing your love is heart-stopping."
His chair scraped when he sat. "You say that like you've been there."
She sighed. "I have."
Veronica seemed to spend a few private moments back in time. Her look expressed deepest sympathies better than any spoken words. Tiredness etched her face as the wee hours of the morning shed its darkness. The rumble outside lassoed Mike's attention.
"That's one of my drivers coming in." Mike left the table for a look across the yard. He drank from his cup while watching the truck limp to a stop. "That doesn't look good."
Veronica joined him at the window. "All the more reason for me to get out of your hair."
"I meant it when I said you're not in the way here." He faced her now. "Don't make a drastic decision you'll regret."
"Too late," she whispered.
"Regrets about the trade, huh?"
"If only you knew."
Mike gulped the last dregs of his coffee. "I think I have a problem I need to solve."
"I'll take that." Her reach for his mug brushed his hand.
"Thanks," Mike said, his concentration glued on other matters now. He paid scant attention, absently let go of his cup, and pecked her a spontaneous good-bye on the lips. The feathery touch shocked him. "Veronica!" He was embarrassed. "I–I—"
Her eyes were as wide as saucers.
"Please forgive me. I didn't mean for that to happen. I wasn't thinking."
"Mike, it's okay. No harm done." She put distance between them.
"Here I am, trying to convince you I'm trustworthy, and I do a boneheaded thing like that."
"You aren't going to jump my bones when I turn my back, are you, Mike?"
Her question alarmed him. "Hell no!"
"Okay." Veronica snickered. "It's forgotten."
With that, Mike rushed out of the kitchen, mumbling to himself as he went. But he was long out of earshot for her to understand what he said. He beat up on himself. Twenty-four hours in Veronica's company and she had rattled the bars jailing his heart.
Mike loped on toward the garage. He was hesitant to look back, yet he was unable to fight her allure. He took the chance.
Veronica waved. He ducked behind his truck. A hasty peek let him see she'd gotten the hint and vacated the window.
5 Star B&N Reader Rating
Genre: Mainstream Interracial Romance
Although Sharlene appreciates Drake's help in rescuing her uncle, she tries to discourage his persistent advances.
...Sharlene busied herself in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the coffee started last evening. Drake's appearance provoked her to head for the door.
"Thanks again." She flung it wide open.
"Aren't you going to offer me a cup?"
"I'm worn out, and I'm sure you are, too."
"You owe me the rest of the story, Sharlene."
"You know all I know." She kept her answers short and curt to discourage his visit.
Drake covered her hand, the one holding the door. "I really came to warn you yesterday." He eased the door to a close. "I didn't tell anyone your identity," he promised, leaning closer.
Sharlene ducked. "Business association only." The coffeepot beeped right on time. She escaped right under his nose.
Two mugs and the fixings hit the table. Sharlene used that distraction as her invitation for him to wander over to a seat. She bustled about the kitchen in an attempt to give the goose bumps that sprang up on her arms time to vanish before she joined him. She'd forgotten the warm, homey sensation that surrounded one when in the presence of someone special.
Sharlene poured the steaming hot coffee, took her seat, and sampled her creamy, sweetened brew. She eyed Drake over the rim of her cup, cognizant that he pretended indifference to her blatant observation. Her secret thoughts evaporated into thin air throughout the cozy kitchen with each hindered breath she inhaled.
* * * *
The very idea Drake faced a challenge to his love sobriety intensified the nagging question about his future. He had muddled through life on autopilot since the tragic deaths of his family nearly four years ago. Work was his company keeper—his sanity regulator. Looking at the gorgeous redhead on the other side of the table had him wondering if he was ready for a heart fixer. Better yet, was she ready for him?
He spooned sugar into his coffee, lounged back in his seat, and kept a daring eye on Sharlene. Sharlene returned his gaze. Her eyes shifted from his face to keep track of each sweep of his hand as the spoon clanged against his cup. The ticking seconds strengthened his resolve to pursue her affections. They sipped through a six-cup pot—slowly. Drake was satisfied to savor the quiet moment where only she existed in his world.