18++ "I love a good steamy romance and When You Close Your Eyes has it in spades. The best part, though, isn't the steamy scenes but the story itself. The steamy scene balance the drama and tension perfectly." Mrs.N, NN Light, Goodreads
Dreams are the perfect shelter for fantasies, safe havens to step inside without changing our daily lives. For Lark Braithwaite, all that is about to change. During the last six months, Lark has dreamt of a mysterious Irish lover who knows what she wants and gives her exactly what she needs. In her waking life in busy London, things aren't as ideal as her long-term relationship with her controlling fiancé Charles has hit a dry spell.
When Lark is called home to Oregon for her father's funeral, she comes face to face with the demons from her past, but she never expects to meet her dream lover in the flesh. Niall O'Hagan steps straight out of her fantasies and into her life, and the powerful connection they share rocks her foundation. Although she's dealing with the bitterness of her fiancé's betrayal and his jealousy, Niall soon stirs Lark's awareness of her superficial existence and reawakens her sexuality....and her soul.
FROM PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY: "Howard (The Longer They Last) explores the concept of fated love in this skillfully woven contemporary erotic romance. Lark Braithwaite, an American in London, is living with her British fiancé, Charles Chase, when she starts dreaming of a sexy mystery man with an Irish brogue. After Lark gets word that her estranged father has died and she returns to her Oregon hometown for the funeral, she meets the dream man in the flesh: he's her parents' widowed lawyer, Niall O'Hagan. Lark quickly falls in love with Niall, struggling to decide whether she should follow her heart or the commitment she's made to her fiancé-a decision that gets easier when Charles shows his true and ugly colors... Explicit sex scenes crackle with heat, and Howard's characters invite readers to come in and get lost on the pages with them as the plot hurtles toward a shocking, but not unbelievable, climax involving Lark's father's past and her future. Erotic romance fans will devour Howard's suspenseful and heart-filled story."
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and took several large gulps, the cool liquid a balm to her throat.
“My name’s Niall O’Hagan.”
His deep and pleasant voice sounded different, lighter than the sultry bedroom voice she was used to from her dreams.
“I’m the Braithwaites’ attorney.”
Lark paused in midsip and lowered the bottle in her hands. “You—no.” She glanced at him.
His mouth lifted at the corners as if it dawned on him he was the butt of a joke he wasn’t aware of. “I…what?”
Oh, the irony of dreaming about her father’s lawyer this whole time. Oh, God. She giggled like a madwoman. This was it; she’d officially lost it. She rose and walked to the top step of the porch, put a hand over her face, and plunked down. “I am so messed up.”
An unwanted flash of Gemma’s flirtatious “darlin’” to Charles yesterday surfaced, and tears stung her eyes. She went silent and willed them not to fall. Nice try, but no use.
Niall sat on the step beside her. “I’d offer you a drink, but I quit ten years ago.”
Lark laughed, despite the tears. “An Irish attorney who doesn’t like Guinness is like an Englishman who doesn’t like fish and chips.”
“I know; shameful,” he said with mock contrition. “Don’t hold it against me. I’m doing the world a favor. Trust me. I was a horrible drunk. Are you okay, miss?”
Lark scoffed and gesticulated with her hands to the sky. “It’s Lark. And what a loaded question.” She couldn’t look at him, not after what happened. She clenched the edge of the step on either side of her and stared out at the trees.
“Well, since we’ve already nailed second base, we might as well be open with each other. Forgive me if I’m candid, but it seems you were in the throes of an alleged, eh, intense dream, and you awoke and believed I was him. Is that right?”
Horror dawned on her at what she’d done, and her jaw dropped. “No!” Yes. She glanced at him, and his knowing expression begged to differ.
“I see,” he said, his tone careful but persistent. “Then why did you kiss me like that?”
“I-I don’t have to answer.” She lifted her chin with defiance.
He scooted closer to her. “No, you don’t. But I wish you would.”
About the author:
Roxanne D. Howard is a U.S. Army veteran who has a bachelor's degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she's not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and children. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.
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