HERE TOMORROW 7 pm PST. TIFFANY N. YORK AUTHOR OF: THE ACCIDENTAL COUGAR (SEE EXCERPTS)

HERE
 TOMORROW
7 pm PST.
TIFFANY N. YORK
AUTHOR OF:


Forty-one-year-old Nicole Woods was content raising her son alone, working as an ad exec, and indulging in the more than occasional cleaning frenzy…until the night she met Wil Blanco.
Her friends have decided that while her son is away for six weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity for Nicole to have a summer fling. Heading the top of the list is Wil — sexy, successful, full of life…and twenty-five! Regretfully, Nicole declares him “hands-off,” but soon he’s complicating everything, from her job at the advertising agency to her self-imposed ban on relationships.
When Wil becomes her top client, she has even more reason to adhere to her “hands-off” policy. So why is Nicole finding it so hard to keep her hands off him?


Nicole’s cell phone went off. When she saw it was Wil, her stomach did a double flip. It was pretty sad that the sight of his name could elicit such a reaction in her.
                  “What do you want, Wil?”
                  “I want to talk to you.”
                  “So talk.”
                  Wil said nothing.
                  “I’m kind of busy right now,” Nicole told him, “and besides, there isn’t anything you can say to explain away the fact that you’re engaged.”
                  Annie and Paulina raised their eyebrows at her.
                  “Listen to me, Nic. It’s complicated—”
                  “It always is—”
                  “—and you don’t understand the kind of family Sonia is from. They’re very old-school Catholic, very conservative…”
                  “Wil, is she or is she not your fiancée?”
                  “We’ve known each other since high school—”
                  “She either is or she isn’t, Wil.”
                  Wanda came back to the table and plopped down. “Whew, she was hot!” she exclaimed, fanning herself.
                  Annie shushed her. “Nic’s talking to Wil.”
                  “Is Sonia your fiancée?” Nicole asked again.
                  “Technically, she is, but—”
                  Nicole didn’t wait to hear the rest of what he had to say. She’d heard enough. Click. She disconnected the phone.
                  It rang again almost immediately.
                  As soon as she picked up, Wil said, “Dude, don’t hang up!”
                  “Did you just call me Dude?” Click. Nicole hung up on him again and turned her phone off.
                  “He called me Dude,” she said, plunking the cell back into her purse. “The guy can recite poetry, yet he calls me Dude.”
                  Wanda, up until this point, had been staring intensely at her. She came over and pushed her hair away from her neck. “Nicole Woods, is that a hickey I see?”
                  Nicole’s hand flew up to cover it. “Damn! How did you see it? I packed on, a ton of concealer and foundation.”
                  “What’s this about a fiancée?” Paulina asked.
                  Nicole held her head in her hands. “Wil and I slept together on Tuesday night and on Wednesday, I found out he’s engaged to be married.”
                  Annie gasped. “How did you find out?”
                  Wanda waved both hands in front of Nicole’s face. “Forget all that, honey. Was he a great fuck, or what?”
                  “I could have told you he was a player,” Annie said.
                  “What are you talking about? You encouraged me!”
                  “I never thought you’d listen!”
                  Nicole threw up her hands. “What about you, Paulina?” she asked. “Do you have anything to say about it?”
                  “When are they getting married?”
                  “I don’t know. Why?”
                  “Just curious,” was all she said.
                  “Can we please change the subject?” Nicole pleaded.
                  “I don’t think so, honey,” Wanda said, her eyes drifting past Nicole’s shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s headed this way.”






One man’s misfortune is another man’s destiny.
Elizabeth Wolfe’s husband, John, had been everything to her—protector, provider, administer of pain. Still devastated, one year after his death, she decides to take her own life, but her plan is interrupted when she discovers an unconscious stranger in her barn.
Devan Carthy and John Wolfe agreed to an arrangement before he died—Devan is to seek out Elizabeth, exactly one year from his death, and bring joy to her life again, in exchange for a sizeable sum of money.
What begins as a friendship between a grieving widow and a mercurial artist blossoms into love as Devan reawakens her desire for living. His erratic mood swings and her need for pleasure and pain threaten their relationship, but it’s John Wolfe’s hold over them that may ultimately tear them apart.
Publisher's Disclaimer: This dramatic love story contains graphic sexual scenes, as well as discipline. If either of these offends you, please do not buy the book.


 She turned her back to him and began soaping up one of the wine glasses. He reached around and grabbed it from her hands, then threw it against the wall. It shattered into pieces. She turned off the running water and faced him. "I'm going to start billing you for broken wine glasses. You broke another one the other night."
    It was true, he had. After she pulled away from their kiss, he had smashed his glass against the wall. He had also overturned John's "sacred, off-limits" armchair in anger.
    "Everything you do is my business. That was the deal." He stood a hair's length away, so close her perfume tickled his nose.
    "We have no deal. What are you talking about?"
    Shut up, Devan.
    He blew out a long, slow breath in an attempt to calm himself.
    "Because you take care of my horses, you think you also have a responsibility to take care of me?" Her voice quivered with emotion.
    Yes, he did, but he couldn't tell her why. "I can tell you when you're making a fool of yourself with a kid almost half your age."
    "Screw you." She made a motion to leave, but he trapped her there with both his arms at her sides. "Let me go, Devan."
    He wanted her so bad he could no longer fight it. If she didn't want him, he'd have to leave here for good, because the torture of denial was making him lose his mind.
    "Tell me you want the college boy and I'll let you go."
    She turned her face away from him. "No."
    Devan grabbed ahold of her chin and twisted it around to face him. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want him, and not me."Her eyes flashed with frustration while she stubbornly pressed her lips together. She attempted to flee again, but he held her by the shoulders. Her angry breaths flooded his face as she squirmed to get away. "Why are you fighting it? Isn't it obvious you want me as much as I want you?"




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