Please help us welcome author Rosalind Abel to TNA today on the tour for The Garden, book two in the Lavender Shores series. We’ve got an exclusive peek inside the book for you, and there’s also the chance at a $5 Amazon Gift Card, so be sure to check out the Rafflecopter widget below for details.
I’m so thrilled to be here at The Novel Approach! Thank you for stopping by for an exclusive excerpt from The Garden.
The Garden is the second book of the Lavender Shores series. Each of the novels can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the series. I’m going to let the excerpt and blurb speak themselves, but I will promise you romance, steamy sex, laughter, all the feels, and a happily ever after. Whether you read The Palisade (the first book in the series) or not, you will thoroughly enjoy this particular visit to Lavender Shores.
The Garden is available from Amazon and is also free on Kindle Unlimited. I can’t wait for you to fall in love with Gilbert, Walden, and Lavender Shores.
For our first stop on the blog tour, I’m introducing you to Walden. He’s noticed Gilbert checking him out at the gym. Against his better judgment, thought he knows full well what’s about to happen, he wanders into the steam room, and. . . well, you’ll see….
About the Book
Publication Date: July 25, 2017
Cover Artist: AngstyG
Blurb: Beautiful Gilbert Bryant designs jewelry for the rich and famous, and he made his escape from his gossipy little hometown of Lavender Shores. However, with so many friends and family, he keeps getting pulled back. When he attends his best friend’s engagement party, Gilbert can’t help but sample one of the new men in town. It’s just some innocent—or not so innocent—fun. Nothing that will even cross his mind once he gets back to his everyday life.
Walden Thompson dreamed about living in Lavender Shores since he visited as a child. He finally gets his chance, and he embraces the opportunity to start over, to become someone new. He leaves both hurts and dangerous habits in the past, where they belong. When Gilbert crosses his path, Walden gives in to his baser instincts. He can indulge in the carnal pleasures this once and still be okay.
Their few hours together haunt Gilbert, the two-hundred-mile buffer from home no longer shutting out the past or the sexy man he left behind. Walden is just beginning to recover from the smoldering encounter with Gilbert when they are thrust together once more. This time, neither of them can walk away, no matter how hard they try. But when their pasts crash into each other as surely as the magnetism that pulls them together, walking away may be the only option.
Guilt raged in my head. It screamed and warned and threatened. Despite that, lust surged through every other part of my body.
I’d noticed him while I’d been doing squats. Actually, I’d noticed him noticing me doing squats. At first I figured he was taking stock and finding me lacking. I knew what I looked like. I was in fancy Lavender Shores, and while I might not have the money for designer gym wear, I knew it existed. Most of the time, I didn’t care. I was long past worrying what people thought. Part of the joy of moving as far away from family as you could get. However, with his honeyed brown eyes staring at me, I wished I’d spent a week’s paycheck on proper gym attire. Not to mention I was certain I was sweating a river down my back that was probably soaking into my sweats in a completely unflattering pattern.
Yeah, I’d been certain he was judging me. And rightly so. He might have stepped out of a fitness magazine. Perfectly tanned and toned body, styled chestnut hair that fell effortlessly in front of his eyes, which had to have highlights put in. Northern California wasn’t known for its blistering sunny days in December. Thick, sculpted eyebrows. Even the scruff on his chiseled jaw was styled—made to look effortless, but I knew better. To top it off, his skintight tank and barely there running shorts were name brand and looked like they’d never been worn before. They might as well have been painted-on. What a lucky paint that would be.
Then he got on the treadmill behind me as I started cardio, and I realized if he was thinking about my clothes, he was simply picturing getting them off me.
I should’ve run right then. Gotten the hell out of the gym, rushed home, and jacked off to some amateur porn. But the longer I kept climbing the stairs, the more certain I was that my guilt was going to lose, right along with my good sense, and I was indeed going to let him get me out of my stupid, stupid clothes. Then another hot guy—older but nearly as hot as the fitness model—had shown up. Probably his boyfriend, or his regular, or his sugar daddy. Whatever. Been there, done that, got the ripped-out heart for the parting gift. No thank you.
Did I rush to the locker room and toss all my junk in my duffle and sprint to my car?
Nope. I went to the showers, which always had plenty of options for playing around. Options I never participated in. But I knew with complete certainty he’d follow within minutes, at least judging from the way he’d been staring. So yes, guilt my old friend, I knew exactly what I was doing, and I was regretting it even as I allowed myself to be steered down that dangerous path. Just not enough to stop.
My last hope was to flee the showers and get to the coed section. Again I was aware that wasn’t really my last hope. There was still the “throw on clothes and run far, far away” option. But as soon as I opened that shower door, there he was. Playing with his long, thick cock. Oh, right, don’t forget all the muscles and bronze skin and dark manscaped hair sprinkled over him like a porn star. Yeah. All that was there too. But, that cock.
How long had it been since I’d touched one in real life?
Right. ’Cause I didn’t know exactly how long it had been. To the day. I’d quit counting hours a few months ago, but I still knew to the day.
But that cock.
Yep, I was going to do exactly what I shouldn’t because of that cock.
And the body, the muscles, the hair, the jaw, the scruff, the eyes, the straight nose, that evil grin. Oh yeah, and don’t forget that cock.
It seemed I was going to throw away my sobriety for that. For a cock in the gym. Not even a pretend date or potential relationship. Nope. Nameless cock. Gym.
Fuck my lack of control.
It was both with disappointment and relief that I took my place in the steam room to discover two women huddled close together whispering.
Good. Maybe the guy would give up, wouldn’t want to wait for the gossip fest to be over. Or maybe he’d already allowed himself satisfaction from the other two men in the showers. Good, that would be good.
Would it? Was that really what I wanted?
My dick twitched at the thought. I folded my hands over my lap just in case the women noticed.
No, that was not what I wanted. Damn my self-imposed rules. Even if they were for the best. I’d just decided to head back to the showers when the steam room door opened and he walked in. He paused in the doorway for a couple of seconds, probably letting his eyes grow accustomed. And, goddamn, even his shadowy silhouette was pure sex.
One of the women glanced over. “Hey, Gilbert. Back in town, huh?”
He crossed the small room and sat by the women, putting me directly in his line of sight. He nodded at her. “Yep.” His tone wasn’t overtly hostile, but it sure wasn’t welcoming either.
“Forget your suit?” The dyed-blonde giggled, but it wasn’t a friendly sound.
“Sure did.” Though he addressed her, he leveled his gaze on mine, not bothering to look away, and opened his thighs just enough to still be hidden from her view while allowing me to see exactly what he wasn’t wearing underneath. “If it bugs you, I can drop the towel and you can watch.”
I might have gasped. Wasn’t sure if I’d made a noise out loud or if my entire body had blown a fuse.
“Classy as ever I see.”
Finally he looked at her. “And still a judgy bitch, I see.”
The woman’s friend sucked in a breath, but the blonde stood. “Fuck you, Gilbert.”
“Oh, Erica, you tried to get me to do you senior year, remember? I wasn’t tempted then. Even less now.” Despite his words he didn’t sound cruel, just bored.
She flipped him off and gestured to the door. “Come on, Lauren. We don’t want to be in the same room with Gilbert Bryant for more than a few seconds. The smell of home-wrecker skank is hard to get out.”
To my surprise he didn’t respond, just turned his attention back to me.
The women left, the blonde flipping him off again on her way out.
He attempted what looked like an apologetic smile through the steam. “Sorry about that. They say you can’t go home again. For the life of me, I don’t know why I’m unable to get that through my skull.”
I tried to think of something to say but had absolutely no clue. I also wasn’t sure if I still wanted this to happen or if I should run.
Well, yes, run. I should run.
But I stayed.
Gilbert stood, took a few steps until he was directly in front of me, and dropped his towel. And holy shit, I wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t hard anymore, but he was fucking gorgeous. Despite his beautiful dick and the rest of him within reach, I glanced toward the door. We weren’t exactly in a bathhouse. He let out a soft laugh. “You’re a careful one, huh?” He bent, picked up the towel, and wrapped it around his waist again, then headed to the door. “Be right back.”
Gilbert was gone for less than half a minute, but it was still enough time for my brain to up its guilt-ridden screams. However, not long enough for it to do any good. He stepped back in and motioned out the door. “I set up one of those plastic yellow cleaning signs. We won’t be disturbed.”
To be continued. . .
I know, I’m mean leaving you like that. Trust me, you’ll want to see what happens next. Just don’t read it in church. Actually, it might be fun if you do!
I hope you enjoyed that glimpse of The Garden, and the spark between Walden and Gilbert. Pick up the book on Amazon and visit the town of Lavender Shores.
Thank you so, so much!
About the Author
Rosalind Abel grew up tending chickens alongside her sweet and faithful Chow, Lord Elgin. While her fantasy of writing novels was born during her teen years, she never would have dreamed she’d one day publish steamy romances about gorgeous men. However, sometimes life turns out better than planned.
In between crafting scorching sex scenes and helping her men find their soul mates, Rosalind enjoys cooking, collecting toys, and making the best damn scrapbooks in the world (this claim hasn’t been proven, but she’s willing to put good money on it).
She adores MM Romance, the power it has to sweep the reader away into worlds filled with passion, steam, and love. Rosalind also enjoys her collection of plot bunnies and welcomes new fuzzy ones into her home all the time, so feel free to send any adorable ones her way.