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Spark #5
By Jennifer Ryder
Genre: Erotic Romance
Cover Design: Louisa, LM Creations
Cover Model: Graham Nation, Love N
Books
Release Date:
September 20, 2015
Synopsis
With an ex
fiancé leaving her in debt, breaking up with her girlfriend and struggling to
find a place she can afford, Sophie McKenna has hit an all-time low. Everyone
thinks she’s a lesbian, and she likes it that way, but her estranged parents
know better.
The foul-mouthed
motocross mechanic, Rocco De Luca, only has his incarcerated brother left.
Every day is a battle of the mind and of the bottle. Tequila and easy women
soothe the pain, but they never fill the void.
Rocco doesn’t
mind offering his spare room to the hot lesbian he refers to as ‘Suds’. She
won’t be clingy, far from it, and he’s keen on the idea of getting to see a bit
of girl on girl action.
With such
volatile personalities under the same roof, and being in April and Spencer’s
wedding party, they both have to learn to get along, even though they can’t
stand each other.
He never thought
he might actually grow to like her.
She never
thought she might actually hate him less.
*Contains
content for over 18 years of age. CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE
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Excerpt
If I poke him,
will it be like waking an angry bear? I’m tempted, but I won’t. That’d be a
bitchy thing to do. We might be living under the same roof, but we lead
separate lives. And that’s how I want it. Completely separate. Removed. His
business is his, and mine is mine.
I take a step
backward and step on something metal. I crouch down and pick up a spoon. I look
around underneath the coffee table, and find an empty glass bowl with remnants
of green an inch below the rim.
Snatching up the
bowl, the cruel absence of what I was planning to eat when I got home tonight
mocks me.
The motherfucker
ate my jelly.
“Hey,” I bark
out with a hard shove to his shoulder.
Rocco grumbles
and swings his head back violently, one eye open as he searches me out. “Who
the ... what the fuck?” he hisses. Rolling onto his side, he props himself up
and falls back into the couch cushions and runs his fingers down his face. His
dark brown, almost-black eyes drill me, as he runs his tongue over his bottom
teeth. The whites of his eyes are scattered with red, and beads of sweat lace
his brow and down the sides of his face. He looks like shit. More accurately,
he looks like someone who greedily smashed a bottle of primo tequila last
night.
“You ate my
jelly,” I say, shoving the bowl towards him.
He shrugs and
his lip curls to the side. “I was hungry,” he says with a challenging gaze.
“You were
fucking hungry? I haven’t been here even twenty-four hours and you’re helping
yourself to my food?”
He scoffs, and I
want to punch him in the face.
“It’s jelly,” he
says, with a roll of his eyes. “It’s like a dollar or some shit. I’ll buy a
packet. Bloody hell, I’ll buy two. No need to get your fuckin’ panties in a
bunch.”
He sits up and
rakes his fingers back through the longer strands of dark hair on the top of
his head. He slouches farther into the couch, one hand scratching at the faded
black T-shirt adorning his chest, the other hand sliding between his legs and
adjusting himself.
Fucking men.
“I’m not pissed
about the fact it costs bugger all. I don’t touch your shit and you don’t touch
mine. Got it?”
I turn on my
heel, flicking my ponytail over my shoulder. I couldn’t be arsed waiting for
his response. I can’t imagine I’ll like it anyway.
“Fine,” he
grumbles.
“And would it
kill you to put the bloody toilet seat down?” I throw at him as I walk out the
door.
His laughter
echoes into the stairwell, right before the door slams shut.
Arsehole.
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Meet the Author
Jennifer Ryder
is a bestselling author with five novels in the Spark Series published to date.
She loves to write about boys on dirt bikes, detectives and strong females who
aren’t afraid to fight for what they want.
Living on a
rural property in New South Wales, Australia, she enjoys the best of city and
country. Her loving husband is ever willing to provide inspiration, and her two
young cherubs, and sheep that don't see fences as barriers, keep life more than
interesting.
Jennifer placed
third in the International Stringybark Erotic Short Fiction Award 2013.
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