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4 Books by Lynsey M. Stewart
Requirements: .ePUB reader, 952 KB
Overview: Lynsey M. Stewart enjoys writing stories about characters that experience a few bumps in the road before finding their happily ever after (also known as contemporary romance with plenty of heat) She lives with her husband, her soulmate and muse, along with their gorgeous, precious, ridiculously independent little girl.
Genre: Fiction > Romance
Stripped Bare - Clairty came in the form of a sequinned thong
I couldn’t deny that seeing my ex-boyfriend jiggling his junk in the face of an ecstatic bride-to-be was a complete mind hump.
I didn’t normally get giddy over strippers, but this wasn’t any ordinary stripper. Ethan was my childhood friend, my teenage crush, the boy that featured in all of my firsts.
We had made a childhood pact. If we didn’t find the right person to lose our virginity to by the time we reached eighteen we would be each other’s first.
First kiss, first love…
First heartbreak.
We had been apart for three years.
I had forgotten how glorious he was. I watched him grind his hips to the music, creating a dance with the woman in front of him. But after the rip of Velcro, his thong thrown in my direction, his eyes finally focused…on me.
Who knew being whiplashed by a sequinned thong would lead to a moment of clarity? It was time to start questioning everything that happened between us until I was left feeling bare.
Stripped bare.
Sliding Home - I was flying high with the Florida Falcons until an injury completely changed my life. Playing baseball had been my dream since I was a kid and, America couldn’t get enough of the Brit who’d made it to the big leagues. The game was my world, but suddenly I couldn't do it anymore. I was bored. I was frustrated. So I filled the void.
Sex was an easy answer for a pro ball player with an English accent, and soon my misdemeanours were splashed across the tabloids. Now I was a bad joke, a sleazy internet meme, a washed-up third-baseman who enjoyed playing with women more than playing the game.
I was given an ultimatum: go home to England and turn things around, or face being dropped. My reputation had been knocked out of the park for the final time. I needed a lifeline.
And then she showed up. An obstacle in my path struggling with a suitcase.
Jess tempted me before I’d even left the States. But there was something more. She intrigued me. Could the actress with the knockout smile help turn my life around?
I offered her a business arrangement she couldn’t refuse. No complications. No distractions. What could possibly go wrong?
A Novel Christmas - Go to an island, my publisher said. Reclaim your writing mojo, he added. Be inspired, he suggested. Oh, sexy shenanigans, was I inspired. Drew Carolla would do that to a woman. Reclusive and brooding, an ex-pilot-come-sexy-woodcutter-come-luxury-wedding-venue-owner-come…here.
Writing romance doesn’t come easy when you don’t have a muse, and I was on a deadline. Four weeks to write my next bestseller or face being dropped by my publisher. Thankfully, watching Drew chop wood, sweaty and shirtless, soon had the words flowing like water through Cornish coastline rock pools.
But Drew had his own stories to tell. Why did his luxury wedding venue no longer host weddings? Why did he scoff at the idea of romance? And why, despite that, did he look at me like he wanted to wake up on Christmas morning and find me naked in his bed?
Conundrums. Drew was full of them. Too bad I wasn’t writing psychological thrillers.
Would Drew Carolla, a man who didn’t believe in romance, inspire my greatest love story or leave me with unfinished chapters?
Lament - Dear Grief Fairy,
I’ve met a man who encompasses grief. Alexander Blayren, a brooding cellist with a body I crave and a soul I ache to know better. He’s rude and bold, brash and sharp, but I see the lost soul underneath. Crying out. Surviving grief for the sake of his daughter. Just.
Before we met, Alexander didn’t believe you could survive grief. Loss had painted his life black, dimming the bright lights and quietening his music. But I didn’t agree with the man I heard play out his demons through his notes. The man I find myself infatuated by. I found my way through grief, because I had a channel for my pain. When I lost my mother and sister, dance was my therapy. Movement my recovery. Could music be his? Could the haunting melodies be his reprieve? The cry of a bow across the strings his lifeline? Or could his journey to survival begin through me? Through my body, the one he studies as I dance, through my cries of pleasure under his fingertips or his undeniable arousal at my willing restraint...
Grief Fairy, you understand me better than anyone. Please help me to relieve his lament.
Yours
Nat.
Download Instructions:
https://uploadrar.com/y9gndtdt3ldd
(Closed Filehost) http://www.uploadship.com/69c958280c68ddb3
Requirements: .ePUB reader, 952 KB
Overview: Lynsey M. Stewart enjoys writing stories about characters that experience a few bumps in the road before finding their happily ever after (also known as contemporary romance with plenty of heat) She lives with her husband, her soulmate and muse, along with their gorgeous, precious, ridiculously independent little girl.
Genre: Fiction > Romance
Stripped Bare - Clairty came in the form of a sequinned thong
I couldn’t deny that seeing my ex-boyfriend jiggling his junk in the face of an ecstatic bride-to-be was a complete mind hump.
I didn’t normally get giddy over strippers, but this wasn’t any ordinary stripper. Ethan was my childhood friend, my teenage crush, the boy that featured in all of my firsts.
We had made a childhood pact. If we didn’t find the right person to lose our virginity to by the time we reached eighteen we would be each other’s first.
First kiss, first love…
First heartbreak.
We had been apart for three years.
I had forgotten how glorious he was. I watched him grind his hips to the music, creating a dance with the woman in front of him. But after the rip of Velcro, his thong thrown in my direction, his eyes finally focused…on me.
Who knew being whiplashed by a sequinned thong would lead to a moment of clarity? It was time to start questioning everything that happened between us until I was left feeling bare.
Stripped bare.
Sliding Home - I was flying high with the Florida Falcons until an injury completely changed my life. Playing baseball had been my dream since I was a kid and, America couldn’t get enough of the Brit who’d made it to the big leagues. The game was my world, but suddenly I couldn't do it anymore. I was bored. I was frustrated. So I filled the void.
Sex was an easy answer for a pro ball player with an English accent, and soon my misdemeanours were splashed across the tabloids. Now I was a bad joke, a sleazy internet meme, a washed-up third-baseman who enjoyed playing with women more than playing the game.
I was given an ultimatum: go home to England and turn things around, or face being dropped. My reputation had been knocked out of the park for the final time. I needed a lifeline.
And then she showed up. An obstacle in my path struggling with a suitcase.
Jess tempted me before I’d even left the States. But there was something more. She intrigued me. Could the actress with the knockout smile help turn my life around?
I offered her a business arrangement she couldn’t refuse. No complications. No distractions. What could possibly go wrong?
A Novel Christmas - Go to an island, my publisher said. Reclaim your writing mojo, he added. Be inspired, he suggested. Oh, sexy shenanigans, was I inspired. Drew Carolla would do that to a woman. Reclusive and brooding, an ex-pilot-come-sexy-woodcutter-come-luxury-wedding-venue-owner-come…here.
Writing romance doesn’t come easy when you don’t have a muse, and I was on a deadline. Four weeks to write my next bestseller or face being dropped by my publisher. Thankfully, watching Drew chop wood, sweaty and shirtless, soon had the words flowing like water through Cornish coastline rock pools.
But Drew had his own stories to tell. Why did his luxury wedding venue no longer host weddings? Why did he scoff at the idea of romance? And why, despite that, did he look at me like he wanted to wake up on Christmas morning and find me naked in his bed?
Conundrums. Drew was full of them. Too bad I wasn’t writing psychological thrillers.
Would Drew Carolla, a man who didn’t believe in romance, inspire my greatest love story or leave me with unfinished chapters?
Lament - Dear Grief Fairy,
I’ve met a man who encompasses grief. Alexander Blayren, a brooding cellist with a body I crave and a soul I ache to know better. He’s rude and bold, brash and sharp, but I see the lost soul underneath. Crying out. Surviving grief for the sake of his daughter. Just.
Before we met, Alexander didn’t believe you could survive grief. Loss had painted his life black, dimming the bright lights and quietening his music. But I didn’t agree with the man I heard play out his demons through his notes. The man I find myself infatuated by. I found my way through grief, because I had a channel for my pain. When I lost my mother and sister, dance was my therapy. Movement my recovery. Could music be his? Could the haunting melodies be his reprieve? The cry of a bow across the strings his lifeline? Or could his journey to survival begin through me? Through my body, the one he studies as I dance, through my cries of pleasure under his fingertips or his undeniable arousal at my willing restraint...
Grief Fairy, you understand me better than anyone. Please help me to relieve his lament.
Yours
Nat.
Download Instructions:
https://uploadrar.com/y9gndtdt3ldd
(Closed Filehost) http://www.uploadship.com/69c958280c68ddb3
Major eBook Releaser
- Posts 215649
- WRZ$
1696569.20
Major eBook Releaser
- Posts 215649
- WRZ$
1696569.20
Major eBook Releaser
- Posts 215649
- WRZ$
1696569.20