PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF
kayla perrin
â[A] writer that everyone should read.â
âEric Jerome Dickey
ââ¦[a] fun diversion.â
âPublishers Weekly on Gimme an O!
âThis is not just a story of female bonding and friendship but a skillfully written combination of romance and mystery.â
âBooklist on The Sisters of Theta Phi Kappa
ââ¦a delicious cocktail with a lot of zingâ¦secrets, lies and alibis.â
âEssence on The Sisters of Theta Phi Kappa
ââ¦start this book early in the dayâthis one wonât rest on your nightstand until it is finished!â
âRomantic Times BOOKclub on If You Want Me
âKayla Perrin has her finger on the pulse of male/female relationships and she does an excellent job of examining it.â
âLiterary Times on Again, My Love
âThis is a story you will read in one sitting. Superb!!â
âRendezvous on Everlasting Love
âThe character development is stellarâ¦[it] enthralls to the last page.â
âRomantic Times BOOKclub on The Delta Sisters
This oneâs for my single friendsâsome divorced, some never married. Mary and Marissa in Atlanta, Nicole in Hamilton and Allette in Torontoâto name a few. Keep standing proud and never settle for less than you deserve!
And itâs also for youâmy loyal readers. In particular, this is for my readers who have given their hearts in love, and had them trampled on in a serious way. I know how much that hurts, that the pain can be overwhelming.
Sometimes the only thing that makes you feel better is the thought of revenge. Often tricky to execute in real life, but in fiction everythingâs game. So if youâve had your heart broken (especially in a low-down, dirty way), hereâs a little vicarious revenge to help ease the painâto make you laugh, and perhaps cry, but most of all to help you realize that life without the jerk is oh, so much better.
Trust me, I know.
Now, enjoy!
Claudia
They say the way to a manâs heart is through his stomach, but if you ask me, thatâs a load of bull. Hands down, that gold-lined path travels through his libido.
I should know. Right now, Iâm practically dying of embarrassment as I sit in a north Atlanta restaurant with the man of my dreams, Adam Hart. Iâm trying to look nonchalant beside him in our booth, sipping a margarita through a straw, while Adam has his hand between my legs. His fingers tickle my skin as they inch farther up my thighs.
âAdam,â I admonish playfully as his fingers skirt my panties. âIâm trying to have a serious conversation.â
âDonât I look serious to you?â
He does look seriousâwhich is exactly the problem. He is entirely too serious about this naughty bit of foreplay. âSweetheart, you know how much I love this, butââ
âWhat, this?â
My eyelids flutter as he strokes my nub.
âMmm,â I moan softly. Then look up in horror as the waiter appears at our table. My face flames, and I wonder if my pale brown skin registers any blush of my embarrassment. I squeeze my legs together, but that does nothing to stop Adamâs fingers.
âHave you decided what youâd like?â the waiter asks. Iâm not sure if thereâs a knowing glint in his eye. If not, he must think Adam and I are so in love that we canât bear to be physically apart from each other. Why else would we be sharing the same side of a booth, practically glued at the hip?
âUm,â I begin. I havenât even looked at the menu. âI think we need a few more minutes.â
âI know what I want,â Adam says. Heâs looking at me though, not at the waiter, and I want to smack him. No, thatâs a lie. I want to take him outside and get busy with him in the back seat of his Mercedes SUV. I really do enjoy Adamâs obvious lust for me. Iâm just not comfortable with how much he likes to display it in public.
âNew York steak,â Adam continues. âRare. I like it red.â
âIâll have the same,â I say, hoping to hell that Iâm not blushing. âMedium well.â
âRice or baked potato?â
âRice,â both Adam and I respond.
The waiter scribbles notes on a pad. âThat comes with soup or saladââ
âTwo house salads to start,â I interject, cutting off the waiter. âAnd an order of garlic bread. Also, a half liter of Chardonnay.â
âMake it a bottle,â Adam says.
My eyes meet his in surprise. His gaze is smoky, and as he bites down on his bottom lip, I feel an excited shiver dance across my shoulders. I know what he wants. To get me drunk so Iâm more likely to be less inhibited.
I wonder what he wants me to try this time.
âThatâs everything?â the waiter asks.
I have all but forgotten about the waiter. I look up at the college kid and grin. âThatâs plenty.â
Thank the Lord, the waiter turns and walks away. He doesnât know me, but still I let out a relieved breath. The reason I like to come here is that itâs far from the Buckhead neighborhood where Adam and I live. If I get caught doing something scandalous here, at least no one will know who I am. And because itâs a Monday night, this place isnât as busy as it would be on the weekend.