Author: Eden Darry
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: February 27
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Genre: Romance, NineStar Press, LGBT, lesbian, romance, addiction, drug use, celebrities, coming out, reunited, farming, prison
Shannon is a young talented movie star celebrating the release of her new blockbuster. Jay is struggling to rebuild her life and hiding a dark secret. They meet and spend two nights together, forging a connection that neither can let go. With their lives heading in different directions, they agree not to stay in touch.
Ten years later, with their fortunes reversed, they meet again and neither has been able to forget the other. Will this time be different? Can they have a real chance at love? Or will Jay’s secret and a tragic event pull them apart again?
Eden Darry © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Jesus, what I am I doing here? Jay spun around on her stool, and came face-to-face with a nervous dark-haired woman.
“Hi, I’m Claire.” Clearing her throat, Claire extended her hand and waited. Jay watched Claire’s hand as it hovered awkwardly between them before she dropped it limply to her side. Jay had no intention of shaking.
“My employer has asked me to come downstairs and invite you to join her for a drink.” Claire looked uncomfortable.
“What are you, her pimp? Who’s your employer?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. I’ll need you to sign a nondisclosure agreement first. My employer is a well-known celebrity.”
Claire’s voice was tinged with pride, despite the strange situation.
“You’re kidding?” Jay smiled humourlessly. “A nondisclosure agreement?”
“Yes—” Claire nodded. “—to prevent any negative press coming to light.”
“Listen, love.” She leaned forward on the stool, bringing her face close to the other woman and doing her best to be condescending. “I’m not interested, okay?”
Claire flinched. She obviously wasn’t used to being told no.
“Maybe you should think about it? My employer—”
“I’m not for sale. It doesn’t matter who’s paying. Understand?”
Something in her eyes must have convinced Claire. Nodding, she backed away and hurried off.
Jesus, a nondisclosure agreement? Time really does march on. She could remember when you bought someone a drink, made small talk for an hour, then went back to her place. Of course, she’d never had a celebrity want to shag her before. Jay wondered briefly who it might be. As if you would even know. It’s not like you’ve kept up to date with show business since you’ve been away. Even before, when other girls were poring over gossip magazines, she read books about gardening.
Before. That was how she thought of it now. There was before, when things had all looked bright and filled with promise, and now.
Now was something she didn’t really want to dwell on too much.
She nursed the beer for a few minutes longer, unsure why she didn’t just leave.
“Hey.” A soft American voice roused her from her thoughts. “Did you really call my assistant a pimp?”
The voice alone got her blood up. Husky and low, it had to be the sexiest voice she’d ever heard.
She turned slowly on her stool, taking in the woman before her. Long, wavy, golden-brown hair, and large grey eyes. Surprisingly, Jay knew who she was. Shannon Somebody—she couldn’t remember her last name. Jay raked her gaze over the woman’s body and lingered purposely on the full, creamy swell of breasts. Jesus, she is hot.
Shannon usually got pissed off when someone blatantly stared at her tits. She wasn’t sure why it didn’t bother her this time. Even from another woman, it should have. Maybe because the woman ogling her was the same woman who’d just turned her down.
“So, are you going to answer me, or just carrying on fucking me with your eyes?” Shannon asked as she slid onto the barstool beside the woman, pushing her tits out a little more. That’s right. Have a good look at what you just turned down.
When Claire had come back, flustered and embarrassed, and relayed her conversation with the hot barfly, Shannon hadn’t hesitated in marching downstairs. It wasn’t often she got turned down—in fact, she couldn’t remember it ever happening before.
Who the hell does she think she is? Calling my assistant a pimp? Shannon caught herself at the bottom of the stairs. The woman was still on her stool looking moodily around the room with a slight air of bored arrogance which, to her surprise, Shannon found appealing. She felt the familiar tingle between her legs and decided maybe this prey would be worth chasing.
“Drink?” the woman asked, ignoring Shannon’s eye-fucking comment with a half-smile on her full lips.
“Honey, my drink costs eighty pounds a glass,” Shannon replied. She leaned forward and offered another view of her chest. To the woman’s credit, this time her eyes didn’t leave Shannon’s face.
“Fuck that then. You can buy me drink.”
Shannon frowned. She didn’t know what to say because this never happened either. The woman broke into a smile, and it was like the clouds had parted—she looked even sexier when she smiled.
Shannon grinned in return.
NineStar Press: http://ninestarpress.com/product/time/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/time-eden-darry/1125775360
“Where I write”
This is the room I write in. You'll notice it faces a blank wall and that's because I can procrastinate like a pro and a view to look at would probably mean I got nothing done at all. You'll notice at the bottom of the bookcase are a pile of picture frames. My job is to put some nice photos in them to display. They've been sitting there for nearly two years. You can't rush these things, can you?
The desk and chair were given to us by my girlfriend's aunt when she moved house. The desk is rickety and the drawers are broken and my girlfriend really wants to get rid of it. She keeps sending me links to websites selling shiny new ones but I'm not having any of it. I like what I like.
Right in the corner under the printer is my cat Didi's bed. I thought it would be more comfortable for her than sleeping on the laptop when I'm trying write. She's not having any of it. She likes what she likes.
Meet the Author
Eden lives in London with her partner and their small, earless rescue cat. She runs her own business, and when she’s not working or writing, can usually be found rowing up and down the Thames.
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