Dear Reader,
I had such a wonderful time writing A SEALâs Surrender, in part because I am the Queen of Goals, and the Soul of Stubborn. So I can relate to Cade Sullivan in a major way, because he is a man who believes in goals, too, and stubbornly refuses to give up on oneâeven after heâs achieved it. But it was great, too, to explore Edenâs challenges as someone who wants so much, and deserves so muchâbut isnât willing to actually ask for it. Oh, yeah, I can relate to that. Can you? I hope youâll drop me a note after you read the story and let me know.
And, as always, I love writing about the special fun that pets are. In this case, Jojo the goat, Mooch the mutt and Alfie the Yorkieâwho is actually based on my momâs darling Yorkie. If youâd like to see Alfie, drop by my website at www.TawnyWeber.com and see his picture on A SEALâs Surrenderâs page. And while youâre there, Iâd love it if youâd peek around, check out the recipes and contests. Or drop by Facebook and visit me at www.facebook.com/TawnyWeber.RomanceAuthor.
Enjoy!
Tawny Weber
I WISH FOR A GUY who worships my body, is great at sex and makes me feel like a goddess. Someone who loves me, for me. Inside and out. And is really, really good at it.
And if he could be six foot two, with sandy blond hair and dreamy green eyes, a body that made nymphomaniacs weep and a smile that melted her panties, thatâd be cool, too.
Eyes scrunched tight, Eden Gillespie let that visual play out for just a second. Then, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes wide and blew.
The flame went out. Thankfully. Because sheâd blown so hard, the candle toppled from its perch on the chocolate cupcake. Good wishes did that, she told herself as she scooped up a fingerful of frosting and grinned at the woman sitting across from her.
âSo? Whatâd you wish for?â Bev Lang leaned forward, her wild red curls bouncing like springs around her cheerful face.
âItâs a secret. If I tell, it wonât come true,â Eden said primly before bursting into laughter. Yeah. Like she was gonna lose out on her body-worshipping lover because she put the word out that she was waiting? Still, she pulled her cupcake closer and, since it was filled with molten chocolate, used a fork to enjoy the next bite ⦠and fill her mouth so she didnât blurt anything out.
Because you never knew with wishes.
âI canât believe you wonât tell me. How long have we been friends?â Bev asked, putting on her best âaffrontedâ expression. It wasnât very effective since she still looked like she was waiting for a white apron and her boyfriend, Raggedy Andy.
âEleven years?â Eden guessed, counting back to the first day of high school. Thatâd been the year her dad had died, leaving her mom too broke to keep paying the exorbitant tuition to the private school Eden had always attended. Secretly terrified, Eden had put on a brave face in hopes that the public school kids would accept her more than the private school snobs had. Bev had been the new girl in town, unaware that Eden wasnât acceptable because of her zip code. By the time sheâd learned the ins and outs of Ocean Point social politics, she and Eden had been too good of friends for it to matter.
âThen as your best friend since ninth grade, I figure itâs my job to help you with the wish,â Bev decided, leaning back in Edenâs faded and frayed Queen Anne dining chair and digging into her own cupcake. âI think this should be your year for sex.â
âAn entire year, dedicated to sex?â Eden asked with a laugh. She was sure there was nothing more than dust motes and the faint air of neglect floating through the formal dining room. But, still, it was all she could do not to look over her head to see if the wish was written there in the candle smoke.
âYou should dedicate this year to the pursuit of sex.â Bev scrunched up her nose. âI donât want to hurt your feelings or anything, but it might take a little effort on your part,â she added.
When was the last time sheâd had sex worth the effort? Definitely not with Kenny. Not with any guy, if she were being honest. Eden swirled her fork in the gooey rich chocolate, using it to make a design on the Meissen plate. After all, what better time for brutal self-truths than a girlâs twenty-fifth birthday.