FROM LONDON WITH LOVE
by Melissa Kendall
What would you do if you had a one-night stand which resulted in the most amazing sex of your life? You’d want more, right? That’s what Angela wants, too, but unfortunately, the next morning she must return to University in Australia. So, she leaves Brad a note, hoping he’d contact her. But he never does. What a jerk.
Five years later, having finished her degree, Angela plans to celebrate with her friends at their favourite drinking spot. However, when she enters, she’s shocked to see Brad sitting at the bar. Summoning all of her courage, she says hello, and, in an instant, the spark between them rekindles. Problem is, this time, Brad's only in Australia one more day.
Spending what little time remains together, Angela can’t deny that he’s the only one for her. And with time running out, she realizes she must tell him the truth of her heart. Will fate let them find a way to be together forever, or are they always destined to part ways?
by Melissa Kendall
What would you do if you had a one-night stand which resulted in the most amazing sex of your life? You’d want more, right? That’s what Angela wants, too, but unfortunately, the next morning she must return to University in Australia. So, she leaves Brad a note, hoping he’d contact her. But he never does. What a jerk.
Five years later, having finished her degree, Angela plans to celebrate with her friends at their favourite drinking spot. However, when she enters, she’s shocked to see Brad sitting at the bar. Summoning all of her courage, she says hello, and, in an instant, the spark between them rekindles. Problem is, this time, Brad's only in Australia one more day.
Spending what little time remains together, Angela can’t deny that he’s the only one for her. And with time running out, she realizes she must tell him the truth of her heart. Will fate let them find a way to be together forever, or are they always destined to part ways?
AMAZON
BARNES & NOBLE
GOOGLE PLAY
iBOOKS
KOBO
SMASHWORDS
Excerpt
She reached for the bedside table to find her phone nowhere in sight. Fuck.
As carefully as she could, she jumped out of bed, looking for her clothes and her purse. Her knickers and skirt were her first find, and she quickly slid them on. Then she spotted her shirt on a chair on the other side of the room. A memory of Brad pushing her into the chair, shoving her skirt up, and diving headfirst between her thighs hit her like a tonne of bricks, making the ache return in anticipation of a repeat. He’d gone to town with his tongue and fingers like no man before and had brought her to not one, but two screaming orgasms.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her shirt off the chair and pulled it on; she didn’t have time for this. There under her shirt was her purse. She yanked it off the chair and frantically searched for her phone.
Pulling it out, she was aghast to see it was eight in the morning. She had set the alarm for an hour before. One look at her phone explained why the alarm hadn’t woken her. It was set to silent. Not surprisingly, there were five missed calls from Sophie. She fired off a quick text to say she was on her way, found her shoes, and then turned to face the still-sleeping Brad.
He lay on his back with the sheet draped over his waist, showing the hint of a morning wood. She wished she didn’t have to run, wished she met him months ago, and then maybe they could have gotten to know one another better.
Alas, her gap year was over, and it was time to go back to the real world and get on with becoming a responsible adult. Her parents’ words, not her own.
A square of white caught her attention, and she realized it was the standard hotel notepad. She picked it up and quickly wrote down her full name, social media links, and a brief apology then folded it and placed it on her pillow.
He’d find it there when he woke up, and then it would be up to him if he wanted to stay in touch.
One last quick glance at the bed and the decadent sight of a sexed-up Brad sleeping, and then she slipped out the door.
If she took one thing only home to Australia, it would be her memories of her night with Brad. She wasn’t some slut, and he also wasn’t her first by more than a handful, yet she could safely say he was the best she’d ever had. Even now, she felt the acute ache of a good fucking. With any luck, it would last the whole twenty-four hours home. She just had to make it to the airport on time.
She reached for the bedside table to find her phone nowhere in sight. Fuck.
As carefully as she could, she jumped out of bed, looking for her clothes and her purse. Her knickers and skirt were her first find, and she quickly slid them on. Then she spotted her shirt on a chair on the other side of the room. A memory of Brad pushing her into the chair, shoving her skirt up, and diving headfirst between her thighs hit her like a tonne of bricks, making the ache return in anticipation of a repeat. He’d gone to town with his tongue and fingers like no man before and had brought her to not one, but two screaming orgasms.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her shirt off the chair and pulled it on; she didn’t have time for this. There under her shirt was her purse. She yanked it off the chair and frantically searched for her phone.
Pulling it out, she was aghast to see it was eight in the morning. She had set the alarm for an hour before. One look at her phone explained why the alarm hadn’t woken her. It was set to silent. Not surprisingly, there were five missed calls from Sophie. She fired off a quick text to say she was on her way, found her shoes, and then turned to face the still-sleeping Brad.
He lay on his back with the sheet draped over his waist, showing the hint of a morning wood. She wished she didn’t have to run, wished she met him months ago, and then maybe they could have gotten to know one another better.
Alas, her gap year was over, and it was time to go back to the real world and get on with becoming a responsible adult. Her parents’ words, not her own.
A square of white caught her attention, and she realized it was the standard hotel notepad. She picked it up and quickly wrote down her full name, social media links, and a brief apology then folded it and placed it on her pillow.
He’d find it there when he woke up, and then it would be up to him if he wanted to stay in touch.
One last quick glance at the bed and the decadent sight of a sexed-up Brad sleeping, and then she slipped out the door.
If she took one thing only home to Australia, it would be her memories of her night with Brad. She wasn’t some slut, and he also wasn’t her first by more than a handful, yet she could safely say he was the best she’d ever had. Even now, she felt the acute ache of a good fucking. With any luck, it would last the whole twenty-four hours home. She just had to make it to the airport on time.
Author Bio
Melissa Kendall is a fortyish mother of two from Perth, Western Australia, the second-most isolated capital city in the world. Between working and shuttling her kids everywhere under the sun she still has time to spend hours at her computer letting the imaginary people she thinks up tell their stories. She is the author of seven published works and writes a little bit of everything but contemporary erotic romance is her favourite genre http://www.melissakendall.net .
Twitter * Facebook * Goodreads * Website
Melissa Kendall is a fortyish mother of two from Perth, Western Australia, the second-most isolated capital city in the world. Between working and shuttling her kids everywhere under the sun she still has time to spend hours at her computer letting the imaginary people she thinks up tell their stories. She is the author of seven published works and writes a little bit of everything but contemporary erotic romance is her favourite genre http://www.melissakendall.net .
Twitter * Facebook * Goodreads * Website
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