Stars in Her Eyes












Page Count: 28
Word Count: 0
Rating: Sweet (G-PG)


(MSRP: 2.0000)

If Dream Man never comes knocking, at least she’ll own the door. That’s 28-year-old paralegal Karen’s new plan, anyhow, to buy her own home, and the reason she’s been working every weekend-- until she bends to her best friend’s pressure to spend a Saturday at the wave pool. Determined not to be derailed by another dead-end relationship, she avoids looking at the cute curly-haired guy—his friends call him Spence-- carousing out in the waves. But the tide turns as she’s caught unaware, a wave pool virgin on her first time in, and swept into a head-on collision with one of his friends. When she manages to stand and open her eyes, the world has disappeared. She sees only Spence surrounded by dancing stars. Has she been knocked silly, or is he gazing right back at her?

28 Pages, Sweet

Excerpt:

Her hair was copper-toned; her redhead’s skin would never be, and Karen was especially pasty after weeks of overtime under office fluorescents. She didn’t know anyone but Shelley here anyhow, so she’d slathered a thick coat of 70+ sun block on her already white body. Missing work from a bad sunburn was not part of her plan. Nor was meeting anyone, especially looking like Casper. Enjoying a day off at the wave pool was, and the breeze teasing through her hair and across her skin under the summer sun felt so good, she shivered.

Karen’s gaze strayed again to the group of five guys boisterously goofing around in the waves beyond them. They were a moving kaleidoscope of chests, shoulders, biceps, and an occasional glimpse of trunks pulled taut on muscular backsides, all powered by almost palpable testosterone-fueled energy. The guys appeared to be about her age, almost thirty, and unattached, like she and Shelley, but Karen was determined to remain detached, and disinterested. The guy in the green suit with the curly dirty blond hair—she thought she’d heard him answer to “Spense”—was making this difficult. Not only was he eye candy, his enjoyment of the water and his four friends was infectious. Dear old Shelley wasn’t aiding Karen’s resolve any; every time she turned to talk to her friend, she found Shelley watching the men with the intensity of a leashed dog eyeing five flesh and sinew-covered bones.

This didn’t change the plain and ugly facts Karen was being forced to accept: 1) her Mr. Right didn’t exist, and 2) she was wasting her time looking. She hadn’t found him in the several years she’d been on her own, and the odds of achieving the fantasy life she’d dreamed of got worse with every passing month.




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