Friday, June 21, 2013

Trouble in Nirvana - New Contemporary Romance

Betrayed by her fiance, freelance musician Primrose Pretty escapes to Nirvana, her brother Danny's rural Australian commune. Although determined to live the simple life, Primrose finds the primitive conditions and slack attitude of the "residents" stressful. Her awkward relationship with her brother creates even more problems and reopens family wounds she'd sought to heal. Danny, with secrets of his own, wishes interfering Primrose would leave.

Tom Fairbrother, owner of the flourishing property next door, offers an attractive alternative to the commune. After a passionate night with him, Primrose is confused. Is he merely a distraction, or is what she feels real and everlasting?

Primrose seems to reciprocate Tom's attraction but flirting is one thing and he knows a high maintenance, single minded, inflexible city woman is not a long term prospect as a hardworking farmer's wife.

With no future to offer her, how can he ask her to stay?

Rating: Spicy
Page Count: 284
Word Count: 71239
978-1-61217-774-8 Paperback
978-1-61217-775-5 Digital


“You from the city?” His eyes flashed over her bare shoulders and neck.

“Yes. Why?” Awkward under his scrutiny, Primrose slid in to the car and clicked her seatbelt. Sexy? Definitely. Friendly? No.

“What are you going there for?”

“Visiting my brother.” No response. He just stood there waiting, looking at her assets as though she were a piece of livestock until she felt compelled to add, “And I need a break from...things.”

For the first time he smiled but it was really more of a scoffing little snort. “Hope you’ve got other shoes.”

Her jaw clenched, relaxed. She licked her lips and took her sunglasses from the ledge in the dashboard. “Is it the next driveway on this side of the road?”

“Yes. About three k's. Called Nirvana.” This time his lips tightened as though trying to stifle a laugh. “There’s a peace sign on the gate post.” He made peace sign sound synonymous with swastika.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I bothered you. Goodbye.” She started the engine. He closed the door and stepped back as she swung the Golf in a circle. Her sweaty hands slid on the wheel so she nearly ran over the dog. It put on a little spurt of speed to get out of range.

When she looked in the rearview mirror he was staring after her, hands on hips, partially obscured by whirling white dust. No way would she show her face here again. He’d laugh that mocking, scornful laugh. Attractive he may be and if he smiled and wasn’t so patronising she might well melt at his feet. But! Didn’t think a city girl could manage on a farm? Dismissed her as useless based on her shoes? Country yokel!

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