Just One Taste: The Romance Novel Book Club

I love this story. What started out as a fun way to poke fun at romance novels evolved into something so much better. This character just grew throughout the book. In writing this, I bared a lot of my soul. While I’ve never had the pleasure of tripping falling on a man as well-endowed as I made Matt, I have learned to stop the cycle of self-loathing and see the world around me.

I have to thank my friend Julie who was my inspiration not only for the secondary character in this book but to finish it. That it went to print just overjoyed me. I’ve held a book with something I wrote in my hands before but I shared the limelight with others. This glow is all mine. 🙂

The Romance Novel Book Club 3D

Melody licked the dewy drop from the end of his shaft, sending shivers down Armando’s core. She teased and prodded before taking him fully into her moist, hot mouth, driving his senses wild.

“Enough!” he growled as he laid her down on the downy bed.


Wait. What? He stopped her? No man in my life had ever stopped me from performing the fine art of fellatio. Heart’s Desire was supposed to be a romance novel, not epic fantasy.

I checked the cover again. The author, who apparently wrote enough horizontal bop-capades to earn her a spot on the New York Times Bestseller’s list, sure made her male gigolo sound like the cabana boy of my dreams. Too bad I couldn’t have him leap from the pages.

I popped another truffle in my mouth, suckling on the chocolate about as erotic as Melody working the pole in the novel. I groaned more or less in disgust, thankful the tasty chocolate treat dulled the bitter taste in my mouth.

How hard could it be to write one of these things anyways? I mean, if I took everything I wished happened in the bedroom and wrote it down, throw in a little misguided mistrust and a jilted lover, and bam. I’ve got the poster child for a romance novel.

I tossed the book aside, fully realizing the meaning of ‘fiction’. If all the men acted that way in life, I wouldn’t be digging in the ‘magic’ drawer by my bed every night.

My lips pursed.

Perhaps that’s what I get for not being a virgin or not falling for the fumbling hands of a man. I really wanted to dive into the book and slap the shit out of Melody at that point. The girl needed a wake-up call into reality. It wouldn’t be long before she leaned against his chest and Armando prodded her head with gusto toward his raging crotch rocket.

Every novel I read had the same formula. Some stubborn virgin female fell for the village playboy. Sometimes the local royalty were thrown into the mix too. They made hot monkey love and had a little mistrust due to a misunderstanding because they refused to communicate with anything but the voices inside their heads.

Okay, maybe that last part could be part of my world.

Then it’s off to the Chapel for a proper marriage, and the woman popped out a few kids. Cue the happily ever after epilogue. My fingers curled around another truffle, my tongue darting out to lick the tip in an illicit manner. Fellatio was fun so long as a little quid pro quo on the vag happened.

“Oooo … Armando! It’s so big! It will never fit down there!” I swooned back onto the couch and rolled my eyes. I dropped the truffle into my mouth.


I hadn’t found one man I had ever dated who had a penis I even questioned about fitting in my hooha. It doesn’t mean I think my ‘soft velvety petals’ were as big as the Grand Canyon, just romance novels over exaggerated the male anatomy.

My eyes stared at the book lying imperfectly on the coffee table. The picture of Melody half-naked with Armando ravishing her pale skin tickled my nether regions. Go ahead, Patricia, you know you want to finish reading it, my mind taunted me. Masturbation material, remember? I sighed and threw my hands up. Leaving the book, I decided to indulge in a shower to test out a new showerhead I bought.

“Oooo … Armando! It’s so big!” I cooed again in a high-pitched voice. I shrugged out of my clothes.

I seriously needed to get laid by something not made of silicone and that didn’t make my water bill sky high.


I rubbed the towel over my wet hair and scrubbed the toothbrush across my teeth.

Hygiene, I thought.

All these stories I had been reading centered back in the Middle Ages and such. How clean were the nether regions back then? I couldn’t imagine an author selling a book that went along the lines of ‘Oh, Melody. You taste like the fish with which I broke my fast.’ Nom nom nom. I had a better chance of ruining another shirt with a Häagen-Dazs stain than to ever see those lines in print. Trust me, I don’t waste good ice cream by wearing it.

Unless my hips counted.

Yeah, sure, call me bitter because I was single going on thirty-five in a few months. The fact was, I’d played the market and I had yet to find one man who fit the description of any romance novel hunk. I wasn’t talking about the twenty-one-something drunken club scene prowling I did either. Go ahead and test the market—the local Laundromat, super market, coffee house, and library (hey, I was desperate).

He simply doesn’t exist.

Reading those self-defeating novels was the brainchild of my best friend since childhood, Julie. Sort of a book club—with two members, both single. One night after a particularly laughable passage, we shared a couple of bottles of Merlot and pinky swore if we didn’t find ‘the one’ by forty, we’d become full-blown lesbians and move to Boston to have a civil union. The marriage, we giggled, would be open so we would have variety beyond our collection of naughty toys. Considering Julie and I had been through a lot, it was the least we could do for each other.

Julie and I met in our home town of Middleofnowhere, USA. If it wasn’t a church, corn field, or some sort of livestock, it didn’t exist in our realm. Julie and I made our own brand of mischief to rival the boys. They, of course, got blamed for it. Who would believe that two innocent little girls in pigtails could sneak into the square in town and hang the mayor’s boxers on the flagpole?

Collectively, we’d done enough wicked things to make Paris Hilton seem like Mother Theresa. We shared everything. I gave my shoulder to Julie when she went through her divorce. She held my hair when I lost my cookies from binge drinking when the latest boyfriend ran scared.

Heart’s Desire still sat on the coffee table, staring sadly with invisible eyes. I picked it up, thumbing through the pages. One by one, I marked steamy scenes with Post-It notes—my date for tonight if I failed to pick up male company.

We were going out to a local Italian restaurant for dinner. Casa Favolosa was our favorite eatery for more than just the food. Julie had her eyes on the bartender, and I fixated on our usual waiter, Matt. The plan would be for me to find out when he got off work and ‘conveniently’ still be picking at my pasta when his shift ended.

I mentioned I’m desperate, right?

I paused with my make-up bag in hand, the hour-long task of dolling myself up looming, and set it down.

Not tonight.

If the girls in the romance novels didn’t smear hoochie make-up on to snare in their catches, neither would I. I decided to go on strike, with maybe a hint of laziness thrown in. Besides, I was pretty sure Matt was a boob man so I spread a little scented lotion into my perfect golden globes.

They’re always milky white in the novels, weren’t they? The village maid happened to avoid the sun so much her skin was perfectly flawless. Another passage I’d never seen sprung to my head.

Melody flashed a smile to Armando, her dull incisors like a portrait of yellow clover flowers. Her skin, roughened and dark, like dirt hanging from the carrots she harvested, scratched along his massively huge man boobs.

Eh. Men have boobs too. Adjusting my own, I nodded to my reflection, stating my mantra of ‘Give me sex or pass the vibrator’. I either seduced Matt into having wild non-committal romp with a thirty-something under-sexed female or I dialed the pink phone myself.

Purchase Links:
Evernight Publishing | Amazon | All Romance ebooks | Bookstrand

Available in Print!


Evernight’s Love Scene Blog Hop

Welcome, welcome! So we’re fast approaching that mush-gushy holiday that showcases a shit ton of jewelry commercials on TV. I’m not a girl who goes for jewelry, but I know a lot of girls out there give a big squee on it. Maybe it’s because I’m a tomboy at heart and love sports. Oh  yes, when I see the couples at sporting events proposing–I get mushy gushy.

So what gets you ticking for V-Day? I want to know! Comment below and if you’re not into the holiday, tell me why too. What will this possibly gain you? How about a signed copy of The Romance Novel Book Club? Yep, that’s what I’m going to give out to the answer I deem the most kick-ass.

Evernight Publishing is also doing a giveaway. How do I enter that, you say? Comment on my blog and the other participants (Click here to find them) for more chances. Oh …you want to know the prize? How does a $100 VISA gift card sound? Imagine the books you could buy with that! I’m getting hot and heavy just thinking about it.

Now onto a little fun!

I wrote a whole new scene for this between Matt and Patricia. There’s nothing PG about it so you’ve been warned!


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I nearly dropped the cuffs as Matt spread his legs wide. That magnificent cock twitched, a pearl of pre-cum beading on the tip. My desire to slide the whole shaft into my pussy nearly broke my designs for him and he knew it. The smirk on his face was one of triumph. When he flicked his tongue out, I shuddered.

“No, you don’t.” I steeled myself and climbed past his thick girth, almost succumbing when he thrust his hips up. The contact called to my carnal lust. I was aware of the heavy panting coming from my lips. As I took his wrists with no resistance, I gasped as his mouth found my overly eager nipple. The slutty areola had hardened into a taut peak for his torturous tongue. Through the groans I unabashedly let fly, I managed to get his hands secured above his head. I stilled, enjoying his manipulations. Not one to neglect my body, I tugged my captured boob from his lips only to replace it with the other.

My whorish moans escalated and my hips betrayed my want for complete control as they ground against his crotch. That gorgeous hunk of man missile between his legs molested my clit. My limbs trembled, and Matt bit down on my nipple. I crashed over the edge of pure ecstasy and unleashed a caterwaul to wake the universe. Wetness coated my inner thighs.

I rescued my nipple from his chattering clutches. My lips covered his and his wicked tongue toyed with mine. I broke away again, sucking in a deep breath. Again he teased me with his mouth. My mind raced into a foggy zone, and my body slid down along his until my fingers grasped his girth. I wanted him inside me bad, balls deep and thrusting but our encounter in the car was too brief for my wanton pussy.

Steading myself above him, I caressed my fingers along my slit. The heavy-lidded stare from Matt announced a brief victory. My hips swayed and his hands jerked against the restraints.  I grabbed them to still his impatience before lowering my moist pussy to his awaiting lips. One flick across my clit almost had me coming again. I leaned forward and suckled on one of his fingers. His lips surged up and buried themselves into my apex. His ravenous hunger to taste me, touch me, and consume me had me rolling in wave after wave of orgasms. He lapped and savored each one, his groans of pleasure the tell-tale sign.

He was the one cuffed and helpless, or so I thought when I started this game, but his machinations below had me hoisting the white flag. I move down to his awaiting manhood and greeted it with my mouth. My desire still lingered, sweet and musky, and I allowed his cock to enter as far as I dared. I have far many more days to attempt swallowing him whole. My tongue lavished the underside, gently swiping his sac. My resolve shattered.

I eased myself up to his hips, my hands around his shaft. The tip slithered along my slit a few times and I grinned down at him.

“Patricia.” His voice was nothing short of lustful and wanting. Both of us had surrendered in our own way.

I let out a brief sigh of his name before his cock penetrated my lower lips. My body accommodated him as if we were meant to be. Slow was my descent, savoring inch and after of his mammoth cock gliding into me. At the last moment, he thrust up and I wailed again. My hands pressed against his chest as his hips stabbed up to greet my every downward thrust. Fuck, it was infinitely better than our tryst in the car. I was riding my stud with vigor. Nothing mattered beyond the passionate love making. His eyes, those darkly handsome orbs, stabbed my very soul and claimed it. The sinful ways I planned to acquaint ourselves in bedroom activities danced merrily in my head as I came for the billionth time. The strain on his face as he pumped into me was heavenly. Matt cried out, giving one last forceful thrust. His cock pulsed as he let loose.

I collapsed on top of him, my limbs weary. My tingling flesh twitched in delight. Sated didn’t describe it near enough.


“Ummm?” My head was giddy, and I snuggled closer on his chest.

“You are going to uncuff me, right?”

I glanced up at him, his eyebrow arched. “And let my suspect escape? I’m not finished interrogating you yet.”

“Is that so?”

I grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Yep.”

“Rawr.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You’ll never break me, copper.”

Oh I intended to try—and fail—numerous times before this day ended. Yes, indeed.

Guess What’s Available in Print?

I’m pleased to announce that The Romance Novel Book Club is now available in trade paperback.

The Romance Novel Book Club 3D

I’m overjoyed beyond words. While I’ve written many things over the past twenty years or so, this book holds a special place in my heart. So if you wanted to dive into the head of Patricia but wanted to stiff the pages like a junkie instead of staring at an eReader, you’re in luck.

Available at: Amazon