She wanted to sleep with Quinn…
Not to beat around the bush or anything, but Annabel wanted to make love with him. Right now. Like crazy. The breakup with her ex weeks ago had left her alone, but satisfied. Usually it was six to eight months before she craved intimacy. But one glimpse of Quinn on her doorstep had her libido rising like a chocolate-Chambord soufflé.
“So your brother John tells me you need rescuing,” he murmured.
Annabel’s welcoming smile traded itself for a dropped jaw. “Rescuing?”
“He said you don’t know how to have fun anymore.” His eyes twinkled.
“Huh?”
Quinn cocked his head to one side and shot her an amused look. “Don’t. Know. How. To. Have. Fun.”
The overenunciation of each word brought her attention to his lips, which were full and all-male and magnificent. She could imagine him kissing every inch of her body. Why didn’t he just strip her naked now and pleasure her till she screamed?
Because that would be fine. Really. And maybe even fun…
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved the Charles Dickens story A Christmas Carol. It hit me one day that it would be fun to write a Christmas Blaze novel with a female “Scrooge” heroine. Of course, instead of three spirits, she has the sexy-as-hell and very real man from her past, Quinn Garrett, to guide her to her own salvation. Which he does in a highly sensual, won’t-take-no fashion.
I’m also a big fan of reunion stories where couples who didn’t get it right the first time manage to struggle through personal growth in round two and reach their happy-ever-after. In Annabel and Quinn’s case, teenage unrequited love is given a second chance—this time with all the additional fun adults get to have.
Hope you enjoy the book! And if you lived a second-chance-at-teenage-love story, e-mail me through my Web site, www.IsabelSharpe.com. I’d love to hear it!
Cheers,
Isabel Sharpe
Before I Melt Away
Isabel Sharpe
MILLS & BOON
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To Birgit,
with gratitude, respect and affection
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
1
To: John Brightman
From: Quinn Garrett
Date: November 19
Subject: Long time no see
Hello, John. I googled your name and found your work e-mail. You’re no longer in Wisconsin—big disappointment. I’m heading to Milwaukee in December to see about starting a manufacturing plant for the HC-3 and was hoping to see you. I have a lot of good memories of the year I spent with your family. Hope you are well.
Quinn
To: Quinn Garrett
From: John Brightman
Date: November 20
Subject: Re: Long time no see
Quinn! How the hell are you? God, it’s been forever! Sixteen years? Of course I’ve followed your rise to the top with Holocorp, so I know more about you than you do about me. I guess you’re probably sick of comparisons to the big Gates guy, but if the shoe fits… Congratulations, you’ve done the world of technology a lot of good. My students already act as if holographic computer screens have been in existence since the dawn of time.
I’m teaching at Rollins, still can’t get used to the Florida climate. My sister is the only one left in Milwaukee; I’m sorry to say my parents passed on, Dad about six years ago, Mom two.
Look Annabel up when you’re there. She started a personal chef business a year ago and is running herself ragged. Take her out and make her have some fun, for God’s sake. You might be the great success story of the twenty-first century, but I can’t believe you’ve forgotten how to have fun. She apparently has.
Will you be around at Christmastime or back in California? Or are you visiting your folks in Maine? I wasn’t planning to come home; Annabel doesn’t “do” Christmas anymore, but if you’re there, maybe I will, and bring Alison and the kids. I’ve got a cousin who owns a house next to the lake and there’s plenty of room.
Got to run to a class, stay in touch.
Best,
John
ANNABEL TURNED her minivan into her narrow driveway on Sixty-third Street in Wauwatosa, only three blocks west of the Milwaukee city line, pressed her garage-door opener and sailed into the two-car garage. Yes, indeed, she was fried like an egg. All day, cooking a week’s worth of meals at the Bergers, the fussiest people on earth. Ted, one of the students she hired to help out, was cramming this week for his exams
