A Week in the Snow
Two strangers in the middle of nowhere, trapped by a blizzard, learn that a week in the snow can be scorching hot.
Rebecca is from hot, sunny Miami. When she drives up north in her little convertible to meet a man she met over the Internet, she doesn't anticipate the Iowa snowstorms. It's her first time driving in snow and it doesn't end well — Rebecca winds up on the side of the road with little gas, no cell phone signal and snow drifts piling higher by the minute.
The roaring black snowmobile that comes along is carrying Richard, a man who lives a few miles down the road and just happens to see the flashy red paint of Rebecca's stranded car through the haze of snow. Stuck at Richard's house for almost a week, Rebecca feels trapped by circumstance. But soon she stops lamenting her position and instead starts to wonder about Richard's bedroom down the hall, about the reasons he lives alone in the middle of nowhere, and whether she really wants to leave at all.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of light BDSM, snow play, use of toys and spanking.
General Release Date: 29th August 2011
what in the world was he doing with a woman like her, who ran her own business and was determined to make a name for herself?
“Speaking of jobs, mine is waiting on me, and I need to get a few things done before I go to sleep,” she said, dangling more bait. “I have to wrap up this latest project before I come to see you.”
Gene yawned, as though the project she had going wasn’t interesting in the least.
“Okay, babe. I’m going to go to sleep. You might want to get some sleep, too, so you can make that drive.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Are you sure you won’t fly?”
She didn’t want to fly, and she had told him that over and over. She wanted to drive her way up from Florida to Iowa, her camera on the seat beside her, ready for good light. She could already imagine all the farms along the way, the old barns begging for a picture, the town squares that deserved to be caught by her lens. The point of the trip was to see Gene, but what was wrong with taking some time of it for herself?
“I really want to take some photographs on the way up.” She had said it a hundred times if she had said it once, and she was getting tired of the same old saw. She carefully filtered the note of wariness out of her voice.
“Okay.”
Gwen Masters has seen hundreds of her short stories published in print and online, and her erotic novels have been translated into half a dozen different languages. When she's not writing smut, she is diving into research on interesting yet obscure topics, hopping a plane every few weeks, and masquerading as a serious news journalist. She splits her time between a home on the Georgia coast and a little place on the outskirts of Philadelphia.
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