A terrible birthday and an unusual gift from a well-meaning friend; what could be more fun than that?
At thirty years old, Sonia Morrison’s life was a mess. She discovered that her boyfriend was a cheater, her biological clock rang loudly, demanding children, and her job was unsatisfactory. However, she had a best friend who was ready to change her boring life by arranging a night of fun at a notorious nightclub.
When Sonia met the gorgeous Tavian Drake, she only wanted a one-night stand. But he was a man on a mission, determined to show her a level of pleasure she didn’t know existed. At the end of the night, only a question remained:
What happens when the adventure ends and their moments together cannot be forgotten?
Targeted Age Group:: +18
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The story came to me while I was doing dishes. It stuck in my head and I couldn't get it out even though I was writing another story. I had to place it on "paper" so I can get it out of my head. The first draft took about 18 hours to write.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
The characters formed on their own. I "see" and "hear" them in my mind. I "see" their actions and all I do is describe what I experience. Most of the time the characters have a "mind" of their own and the action I imagine isn't the one the characters take.
"You've got to be kidding me! No way in hell I'm wearing that scrap of fabric."
Sonia Morrison eyed the so-called top her best friend was holding out to her. The V décolletage was cut so low it almost reached her belly button, and the sides could barely cover her breasts. The see-through, red sequins material was made of matched the red, tight skirt she squeezed herself into, earlier.
"It’s a top Sonia, and it’s very appropriate for the place we're going. Put it on or we're going to be late. Is your thirtieth birthday, don't you want to get your present?"
Sonia shook her head, eyes wide in mock horror. Tara's ideas of fun were a bit different from most of the population. Being a reclusive computer genius wasn’t helping her learn to interact with people, and that made her behavior different enough that everybody avoided her. Not Sonia, she accepted her best friend with all her strange quirks and tried to overlook whatever strange things Tara did from time to time. Such as asking her to dress like a hooker: black lace underwear with a matching push-up bra, bright red miniskirt, and the top that covered, well… nothing since the fabric was see-thru. Oh, and let's not forget the fire red stilettos that were going to make her feet hurt for a week.
Yeah! A gigantic step down from the secretarial wardrobe she was used to; way down if she took into consideration the ponytail that left her back and shoulders bare. Sonia didn’t want to think about the dark shadow make-up making her dark green eyes stand out.
"Look Tara, if you're going to pimp me to some guy tonight, I’ll kill you," Sonia looked to her friend, giving her a death glare.
"Ah! You wound me greatly," Tara made a show of whipping away a fake tear. "You're my best friend; do you really think I would do that to you?"
Sonia didn't believe for a second the guile expression, or the innocent words coming from her best friend. "By the way I’m dressed?” She looked down at herself. “I think anything is possible, including you selling my body to some unknown guy who happens to be a serial killer."
Tara scowled, throwing her the skimpy top. "You're such a drama queen. I promise that nothing is going to happen to you, that you don't want to, of course," she looked at her gold watch, frowning when she saw the time. "Put the top on, we're running late, and I want this night to be perfect for you."
Alarm bells rang in Sonia's head, but she let Tara’s statement go for the moment. She knew that when she wanted to be, her friend was quieter than a tomb. "Must be all that red, curly hair," she mumbled under her breath.
Tara turned to her, an enormous smile on her red lips. "No, it’s the pig-headed Irish in me. The red hair and freckles came with the package."
Sonia rolled her eyes. "Does your Irish blood give you bat hearing and mind-reading powers, too?" Her annoyance was obvious.
Tara laughed. "Well, of course," she looked over her shoulder, grinning. She cupped her large breasts, squeezing them together in the black top she was wearing. "Irish blood gives me everything I need."
Poking out her tongue like a five-year-old, Sonia followed Tara out of the apartment they shared. The limo waiting for them was long, black, and very slick. Sonia smiled widely, hugging Tara when her BFF stopped to let her enter the limo first. Perhaps her night would not be so bad after all.
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