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| Whiskey Creek Press Torrid #1 Bestseller February 2005 |
Kindle Reader |
| Right From the Start |
| Instant attractions are one thing, but how would you know if it was love... right from the start? |
| Whiskey Creek Press #1 Best Seller - February 2005! |
| 5 cups....This story, even though short, is a temptingly seductive work of the written word... Coffee Time Romance |
A contemporary romance novella available now from
Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
Right From the Start
“Oh, what a dreary day.” Dana sighed and flipped off the car stereo in annoyance. The radio
disc jockey was playing all the songs about Mondays the local station had in their library.
She tapped a short, manicured nail on the steering wheel and glared at the red light through
the rain-spattered windshield.
“Come on,” she muttered impatiently. She really wanted to get home before the worst of the
rain, and the accompanying thunderstorm, got to her. She gently lifted her foot from the
brake pedal as the light changed, only the SUV in front of her didn’t move.
She resisted the temptation to blow the horn, but then quickly wished she would
have, be it impolite or not. The light turned to amber, then back to red.
And she was still sitting there.
The door of the SUV opened and a guy jumped out, pulling on a jacket as he hurried to the
front of the vehicle. The hood lifted.
“Great. Just great,” she said to her car. Rain or not, she had to be a good neighbor. She
turned on her four-way flashers and walked – in the rain – to the front of the SUV.
A pair of surprised hazel eyes looked up at her from under a grungy ball cap.
“Can I help?” she asked him. He grinned at her. A nice, open, boy next door, charming grin.
The kind of grin she couldn’t resist. She felt a little twitch in certain body parts she hadn’t
thought about in a very long time.
“You a mechanic?” he asked. He gave her an open, appraising look. Dana wondered if she
passed his approval.
Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average build. Average, average, average.
Normally it didn’t bother her to feel so average.
Dana buffed her nails on her raincoat. “I know a bit, but I was thinking more along the lines
that I would steer it as you pushed it out of the middle of the street.”
“That’ll work. Thanks.” He let the hood drop with a bang.
Dana hopped in the SUV and flipped the ignition switch to the on position and tugged at the
steering wheel until the vehicle edged off the street. It was raining harder when she slid off
the seat.
“Hey, thanks again,” he said as he swiped a hand across his dripping cheek.
“Do you need a lift to a garage?” she asked, then cringed inwardly. It was one thing to help
him out on a very public street. It was another to let him into her car.
Still, something in those open, smiling eyes said he was an honest man.
“You sure? It’s a few miles from here.”
“I did offer, didn’t I?” she replied.
“Why, yes you did. I accept. I’m Randy, by the way.”
“I’m Dana. Get in.” She gestured at her car. “And don’t worry about being wet.
Everything will dry.”
Randy, she was groaning to herself. Randy. She’d rescued a Randy.
She wondered how randy Randy was.
Damn. There was that little twitch again. She ordered herself to be quiet and drive.
“Where do you need to go?” she asked as he buckled his seat belt. His hands were large
and strong looking, with lean fingers and clean, well-trimmed nails. That annoying twitch hit
the level of a well-defined throb.
“Dealership out on one-eighteen.”
“Will they let you have a car to get home?” she asked, and then mentally kicked herself. If
she kept this up he was going to think she was interested in him or something.
But you are, a voice in her head whispered. Don’t turn slut, it warned.
Shut up, she told it.
Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
Right From the Start
“Oh, what a dreary day.” Dana sighed and flipped off the car stereo in annoyance. The radio
disc jockey was playing all the songs about Mondays the local station had in their library.
She tapped a short, manicured nail on the steering wheel and glared at the red light through
the rain-spattered windshield.
“Come on,” she muttered impatiently. She really wanted to get home before the worst of the
rain, and the accompanying thunderstorm, got to her. She gently lifted her foot from the
brake pedal as the light changed, only the SUV in front of her didn’t move.
She resisted the temptation to blow the horn, but then quickly wished she would
have, be it impolite or not. The light turned to amber, then back to red.
And she was still sitting there.
The door of the SUV opened and a guy jumped out, pulling on a jacket as he hurried to the
front of the vehicle. The hood lifted.
“Great. Just great,” she said to her car. Rain or not, she had to be a good neighbor. She
turned on her four-way flashers and walked – in the rain – to the front of the SUV.
A pair of surprised hazel eyes looked up at her from under a grungy ball cap.
“Can I help?” she asked him. He grinned at her. A nice, open, boy next door, charming grin.
The kind of grin she couldn’t resist. She felt a little twitch in certain body parts she hadn’t
thought about in a very long time.
“You a mechanic?” he asked. He gave her an open, appraising look. Dana wondered if she
passed his approval.
Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average build. Average, average, average.
Normally it didn’t bother her to feel so average.
Dana buffed her nails on her raincoat. “I know a bit, but I was thinking more along the lines
that I would steer it as you pushed it out of the middle of the street.”
“That’ll work. Thanks.” He let the hood drop with a bang.
Dana hopped in the SUV and flipped the ignition switch to the on position and tugged at the
steering wheel until the vehicle edged off the street. It was raining harder when she slid off
the seat.
“Hey, thanks again,” he said as he swiped a hand across his dripping cheek.
“Do you need a lift to a garage?” she asked, then cringed inwardly. It was one thing to help
him out on a very public street. It was another to let him into her car.
Still, something in those open, smiling eyes said he was an honest man.
“You sure? It’s a few miles from here.”
“I did offer, didn’t I?” she replied.
“Why, yes you did. I accept. I’m Randy, by the way.”
“I’m Dana. Get in.” She gestured at her car. “And don’t worry about being wet.
Everything will dry.”
Randy, she was groaning to herself. Randy. She’d rescued a Randy.
She wondered how randy Randy was.
Damn. There was that little twitch again. She ordered herself to be quiet and drive.
“Where do you need to go?” she asked as he buckled his seat belt. His hands were large
and strong looking, with lean fingers and clean, well-trimmed nails. That annoying twitch hit
the level of a well-defined throb.
“Dealership out on one-eighteen.”
“Will they let you have a car to get home?” she asked, and then mentally kicked herself. If
she kept this up he was going to think she was interested in him or something.
But you are, a voice in her head whispered. Don’t turn slut, it warned.
Shut up, she told it.
| Right From the Start is a feel good story for those who love their happy endings ...Romance Junkies This story is definitely erotic because, from the moment they meet, Dana and Randy are irresistibly drawn to each other and act on those desires. The love scenes are explicit and emotional. I was impressed by the deep feelings that the author was able to elicit from her well-drawn characters and communicate to the reader.... Fallen Angel Reviews |
| Right From the Start ISBN 1-59374-330-0 © 2005 Rayne Forrest Whiskey Creek Press Torrid |
Also available at the Amazon Kindle shop!
| Fun and Sexy - Right From the Start is perfect if you want something spicy, sweet, and fast. - Joyfully Reviewed |
| Rayne Forrest |