It’s out! My newest erotica ebook is available: Coffee Shop Quickie.
Check out the summary:
Marianne hates her job at the coffee house. Not just because of how boring it is, but because her boss, Helen, expects things beyond normal job duties. Things of a more physical nature.
Because of an accident, Marianne had to make it up to Helen in the privacy of her back office. She thought nothing can go right that day until a nurse comes in for coffee…and turns Marianne’s world upside down.
I want to give a huge thanks to everyone on my Launch Team, who are invaluable for their feedback. And of course, thank you to my readers for all your support. I owe everything to my readers and their continual patronage.
If you’d like, read below for a sample of the story.
Coffee Shop Quickie
The Lavender Coffee Emporium could not be called a “high class” coffee shop. Marianne, shop barista of a year and a half, preferred to call it “confused.” Leather-backed chairs were interspersed with patched recliners. Short, stubby tables were set next to tall, elegant ones. The walls were covered in four different shades of paint, all of them some variation of light purple.
The entire place was, in short, a mess. That wasn’t to say Marianne didn’t like it, though. She just thought it came across as trying too hard.
She readjusted her stance where she stood behind the coffee shop counter and resisted the urge to glance at the clock. There wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t ache. She stared longingly at one of the overstuffed recliner chairs, then snapped back to attention when she heard the bell over the shop door ring.
“How are you doing today?” she asked, giving the patron a once-over. He was a short man with round glasses sitting on the end of his nose that he didn’t bother to push up, choosing instead to squint up at the chalkboard behind her. Marianne forced her smile to stay in place as she waited for him to order.
“Large americano,” he said at last. “Iced.”
“Coming right up.” Marianne offered him one final second of her “customer” grin, then turned her back and scowled.
Making coffee orders after a year and a half in the business was no longer a process; it was muscle memory. Marianne reached for measuring cups and ice scoopers without looking at them, using what little time she had to act like herself instead of an underpaid, corporate employee.
She pasted her smile back on as she turned around, reaching over the counter to hand the man his americano. “That’ll be six forty-two, please.”
He grumbled something unintelligible as he reached for his wallet. As he passed his credit card over to her, the door to the shop opened again. Marianne looked up to greet the new visitor and felt her heart stop.
The woman walking in had her hair tied back in a too-tight bun, save for one curl that had escaped and made its home on her forehead. She wore scrubs with kittens on them, and there were purple bags under her eyes that spoke to many sleepless nights. She was also the most beautiful person Marianne had seen in months.
The man in front of her cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he snapped, his voice shaking Marianne out of her daze. “Are you going to give me my card back or not?”
“What? Oh, I’m so sorry!” Marianne swiped his card and handed it back, flushing as he stormed away. As soon as he was out the door, she turned her attention to the woman in scrubs. “Sorry about that,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “What can I get for you today?”
The woman pulled a folded list from one of her pockets. “I’ll need…two cappuccinos, three black coffees, and one of your lavender lattes. Oh, and a caramel macchiato, please.”
“That can’t all be for you.” The words slipped out of Marianne’s mouth without her permission, and her flush grew even darker. To her relief, the woman in scrubs only laughed.
“No, not all for me. I’m on a coffee run. One of our doctors has been in since three in the morning, and she’s getting a little grumpy.”
“I can imagine. Your total comes to forty-three fifty-seven.” The woman’s credit card exchanged hands, Marianne secretly hoping their fingertips would touch. She couldn’t help but hold her breath.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The woman lifted an eyebrow.
(end of sample)