The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Monday, 20 October 2014

Turn Back Time

And it's here! What started off as a story in a short collection evolved into a mire of emotion and naughtiness and the restorative beauty of Mexico. So for you, Coming Around Again...

Coming Around Again on Amazon

Don't forget, I'm having a Facebook Party to celebrate the release from 5.00pm to 6.30pm EST on Thursday 23 October and 7.00pm to 8.30pm on Friday 24 October. Prizes and goodies and all sorts, from me and a few of my friends. I get by with a little help from my friends! Release Party on Facebook

Around A Blurb

"I can't exist in a marriage where you endure me..." 

And with those haunting words, Stella's marriage to Niels comes to a terrible, heartbreaking end. She thought she'd done everything possible to keep her life together and to the outside world, her marriage was nothing less than perfection. Not according to Niels. As she struggles with the fall out of the divorce, Stella truly understands just how much she underestimated the strength and depth of feeling for her husband. And that they may never go away. However much she wants them to. And it seems, neither will Niels. Certainly not if she calls him. Invites him to her home. Sleeps with him. Stella tells herself it's a nostalgic habit she needs to break. Niels tells her it's just how they are and always will be. Maybe the divorce was exactly what they needed to truly be married...

Around An Excerpt

“What’s going on?” Stella demanded, stepping over the twins’ weekend bags scattered in her living room to face her ex-husband. The smug plonker was stretched out on her sofa—a sofa she was still paying for—with a boy on each side.
“Dad fancied staying,” Danny answered, barely turning his head to acknowledge her.
His brother piped up. “He said he wouldn’t mind if you had to go out.”
Presumptuous… “That’s the point of him having you over the weekend so I didn’t have to worry about that,” she retorted.
Niels barely rippled his shoulders in a shrug, squashing their children into his body. “You don’t have a date, do you? You’d have told me.”
Of course she would have! To rub it in his overtly attractive face. Instead, she’d had plans to meet up with her friends for a speed dating event. The risk with that plan was that her ex-husband would have free reign in her house.
Nope. Couldn’t be done. “Can I talk to you?” she suggested, with a grin so false, it cracked her cheeks. “Outside?”
Will looked at her. “Are you and Dad going to have a fight? Because…you know you said you wouldn’t anymore? Remember?”
Pressing her fingers to a pulse in her eyeball, Stella turned into the corridor, leaving the door open for Niels to follow. He sent her an infuriating smile before he sealed the living room from what needed to be a full-on barney.
“This is what we spent two years in court fighting about,” Stella began. “Boundaries,” she enunciated the word, drawing a line between their bodies. “You’re not respecting mine. Again.”
Niels watched her with an indulgent look on his face. “What are you more worried about? That you’re not out tonight, or that I know you’re not out?”
She’d paid a lot of money to be told not to use her fists to put her point across when it came to the man she’d so blindly married. “I’m worried about you putting ideas in their head—” she thrust a hand in the twins’ direction, “—that we’re getting back together!”
He nodded slowly, mouth twisting in thought. “Ah. That idea. The one you started by using me for sex last weekend.”
She slapped her hands over her eyes and turned away. Massively unfair! “It was a mistake! I was feeling weak and vulnerable and you…you came over with that sodding bottle of Malbec for no reason than to…to…”
He interrupted her spluttering. “To reminisce about the good days, post-three or four orgasms?”
Stella pointed to the kitchen and with the smuggest of smiles, he led the way. As soon as they were inside, Stella closed the door. “Now listen here…”
Niels pressed her to the wood and kissed every single letter of argument from her lips. Bad. Bad man. He still tasted every bit as forbidden and addictive and delicious as he always had. Her downfall was nostalgia. All of her firsts happened with the terrible man and he was still the best kisser to have nibbled on her top lip while palming her bottom. “I miss you,” he growled against her mouth.
“You divorced me, you numpty!” She heaved, pushing him away with shaking hands. “You split us up. You fought me on everything. And you, you utter wanker, you started seeing other people.”
Rage flickered in Niels’ face. “Hey, I only did that after Daniel told me about some fuck-face being here every other night.”
Okay, granted, she’d tried to move on first; but even after she accepted her marriage was over, nothing, including the vaginal tear from naturally delivering her two boys, nothing hurt as badly as seeing Niels with another woman. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. It really was her own fault for sleeping with him last weekend. All it did was make her wish for the old days.
“You know why our divorce took so long?” Niels said into the quiet. “I wanted you to change your mind. I dragged it out at every opportunity so you had to keep talking to me.”
What? “You’ve figured this out now?”
“My therapist told me.”
“You? Your what?” Niels didn’t do new age, touchy-feely stuff. Maybe if they had…
No, no. It was all too late. It had no meaning with a framed decree absolute and a shared care order.
He sighed heavily. “Therapy for what happened between you and me. It was that or pills, and you know me and pills don’t agree. I didn’t want to be off my face when the boys were with me.”
She stared at him in amazement. “You never said.”
He sent her an arch look. “Well, the last time I tried to talk to you, you were far more interested in getting my mouth in other places.”
Oops. God, he confused her completely.
“But I’m practically over you.”
“Liar. I’ve got text messages to prove it.” Urgh, maybe not. “I remember them off the top of my head: No one can make you harder than I can…”
“Niels...” The warning didn’t make him cease the falsetto in his quotes.
Remember that anniversary when we finally did anal? You really think you’d ever convince another woman to let you do that with that monster dick of yours?
“What is wrong with you?” she yelled.
“Oh, and my personal favourite: I miss you so much sometimes. That’s a lie. I miss you all the time. Sent just before I came over last week.”
She stalked past him and uncorked a bottle of wine. “What’s your point? I say silly things. And I know those first two texts were sent in the early bit of our divorce. Because I remember adding to the end of the second one how I ruined my arse because of you, so you owe me the sodding house.”
“Our children ruined your arse,” he argued, bracing his arms on either side of her waist, kissing the back of her neck. The heat of his breath sent shivers all over her skin. No, she couldn’t get caught up in physicality. Sex hadn’t been their problem. Communication had been.
“Back up,” she warned, pushing him away with her bottom, only to find herself locked against his groin.
“No,” he murmured, his hand stroking from her waistband to cup her breast. “Let me stay. We’ll talk.”
So tempting… “We won’t talk. You’ll try to get on top of me. Or in me. Or both.”
“Naturally, but Stella…we’ve been fooling ourselves for long enough. Last week was the first step to us being honest. There’s no reason we can’t carry on.”
His mouth trailed persuasively over her jaw to her lips. Breathlessly, she turned to give in to the kiss when Danny burst in.
“Dad, you promised pizza when Muma got home, and why are you being mushy-face with each other?”
Stella heard Will call from the living room, “I want stuffed crust!”
Niels pressed his lips to her cheek, his hand roving over her buttocks in an act of such dominance she nearly went on her knees. “Leave your Muma alone for a bit. We’ll order from the living room, okay? Dad’s not going anywhere.”
With a look of certainty, he shut the door behind them, leaving Stella gripping the wine bottle for dear life.
Well, damn it to hell on a breadstick.

Shit. Just. Got. Real.

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