Tired of online dating sites?
Fed up with emails from guys who just don’t get you?
Then what you need is a blast from the past!
A hottie hunk who knows how to treat a woman…and I’ve got just the guy for you…
Paul Borquet in my time travel erotic romance, NAUGHTY PARIS.
Here is an excerpt:
“You wouldn’t stand a chance if I were young and beautiful,” I whisper, shifting my weight from side to side. The wooden platform bends, squeaking under my wet bare feet. Lightning flashes overhead through the skylight, stinging my eyes like a thousand watt lightbulb slashing through the air. “I’d make you fall in love with me–”
I cry out when electricity jolts the bronze sculpture I’m holding between my breasts, sending a hot current through me and vibrating through my brain, raising the hair on my arms, and making my eyeballs bulge out.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I hear the old artist calling out that he’s going for help, but I can’t answer, can’t focus. All the muscles in my body tighten and I feel myself lifted up off my feet and zooming through space, as if something is flinging me skyward. An unexplained chill settles in me as if I’m in a swirling vortex as electricity flashes over my skin, racing in and out of my bod faster than I can blink.
What’s happening to me?
This isn’t my normal world. I want things dry and safe. Not wild and crazy. The electricity dances a choreography of darkness and light all over me, tracing the path of my sweat. I’m breathless and more than a little bewildered. Mix in bewitched and my trip to Paris is turning into the Rocky Horror Picture Show with French subtitles. This can’t be happening!
Thunder claps in my ears with a loud boom then–
–the lights go out.
Darkness. The humid air suddenly reeks of a strong musky scent. Male.
Coming closer…closer…yes…I hear that sexy laughter again as someone blows hot air into my ear, making me shiver. I twist my fingers on the statue until they burn, then my nipples harden into pointy peaks as if someone pinched them. Becoming aroused again, I let out a sigh when someone squeezes my breast and sucks on it, then moans. Who? Where is he? I can’t open my eyes, swallow or talk, or move my legs or hands, touch him, anything.
I can’t do more than make a desperate breathing sound as I lie–
Where am I?
Autumn travels back to 1889 Paris and meets the lost Impressionist Paul Borquet and boy, do things heat up from there…
Copyright © 2007 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited. ® and tm are trademarks of the publisher
COMING in 2015:
LOVE ME FOREVER
A Civil War Time Travel Romance
She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.