Saturday, May 28, 2016

Licorice Lass by Lynn Cooper @WritesRomances ~ Scottish Contemporary Romantic Comedy #RUKIA #ASMSG

Licorice Lass
Lynn Cooper

Book Ten of the Plus Size Romance Series
Genre: Scottish Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Length: 152 pages
Heat Level: Spicy


Lola Westlock is obsessed with sexy, kilt-wearing Scotsmen.  In her imagination, these ruggedly-handsome heroes always take center stage and play prominent roles in all of her romantic fantasies.  When a real-life highlander shows up at her favorite candy store, she wonders if her daydreaming has gotten way out of hand.  But soon a cold dose of reality tells her she is wide awake.

Nigel Lachlan has made a long trip to the United States in hopes of fetching himself a bride. His becoming Laird of Lachlan Castle hinges on him bringing home an American wife. Within a few moments of his arrival, he encounters a cute, curvy, caution-to-the-wind spitfire who takes his breath and tents his kilt. Unfortunately, the licorice-loving lass who has quickly caught his eye isn’t the woman he crossed the ocean for.

Can a promise etched in stone be broken in order for true love to be realized? Or, are Nigel and Lola destined to be brokenhearted for all eternity?

Licorice Lass is part of the Plus Size Romance Series.  Each book is a standalone with no overlapping characters, storylines or cliffhangers.  This series is a perfect combination of romance, steamy love scenes and humor.  The stories are sensual and romantic, uplifting and lighthearted.  Feel-good reads that leave you feeling great! 

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When she stepped into Carl’s Confections, the intoxicating aroma of anise teased her nose and made her mouth water.  She was so excited about picking up her order that her palms were actually sweating.
Carl, short for Carlos—a short, rotund, balding Spaniard—was standing next to the cash register, giving Lola his trademark smile.  Everyone who frequented his establishment commented on his warm, toothy grin.  His dark, fleshy face beamed whenever a customer entered the store.
No matter what kind of mood a person was in, they couldn’t help but return his smile with one of their own.  And that was exactly what Lola was doing now.
“Good morning, Carl!”
With his chin practically perched on the countertop, he looked like a child.  He was barely tall enough to see over the glass case of homemade confectionary delights.  His response was overflowing with enthusiasm.
“Buenos días, señorita,” he said, pushing a big, white cardboard box across the counter.  “I have your order just as you requested.  Three dozen licorice sticks twisted into Celtic knots.”
Lola opened the lid.  Letting her eyelids drift shut, she inhaled deeply.  The smell of the candy was practically orgasmic.  Opening her eyes, she sighed.  “Oh, Carl, they’re almost too pretty to eat.”
“Sí y deliciosos.”
“You don’t have to tell me.  I’ve eaten enough to know how tasty they are.”  She reluctantly closed the lid.  “It’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to eat one now.”
When Carl opened his mouth to reply, Lola’s eyes grew wide, and her heart began to frantically race.  The sound she heard was nothing like the high-pitched Spanish she was accustomed to hearing from her candy-making friend.  This one was the epitome of masculinity—deep and gravelly and thickened by a Scottish accent.  The kind that haunted her dreams and drenched her panties. 
“You must truly love licorice, lass.  You’ve got enough there to feed an entire clan.”
Slowly, Lola turned around, seeking to put a face to the soul-seducing sound.  As she took in his appearance, she had to fight off waves of dizziness.
The ruggedly-handsome face was finely chiseled.  His strong, square jaw could have been carved from granite.  His outfit reflected his accent.  He wore a tartan kilt with black, calf-high boots and a white shirt opened at the collar.  The first three buttons were undone, revealing hard, sculpted pecs.  Thick, dark hair hung down to his shoulders in an unruly mass of waves.  The only thing missing was a sash and sword.
For a minute, she thought her mind might be playing tricks on her.  Or, maybe her father was.  Even in his sadness, he had maintained his sense of humor and penchant for pranks.  Perhaps he had hired an actor to mess with her head.  To show her just how far her fantasizing had gotten out of hand.
  Or, maybe she so badly wanted her fictional hero to be real he had finally begun to materialize before her.
No, that was silly.  There had to be a logical explanation for why a Scotsman would be standing in a candy store in the middle of Columbia, South Carolina.
She would simply speak to him and prove he was real.  “Not only do I love it, I’m a connoisseur of licorice.  What’s your superpower? I mean, other than your ability to state the obvious?”
He chuckled deep in his chest, sending the sultry vibrations straight to the center of Lola’s sex.
“Superpower, eh?” he asked, tapping his chin thoughtfully.  “Let’s see; I can tie that licorice into the finest Celtic knot you’ve ever seen.”
Rolling her eyes, Lola huffed.  “Big deal.  Carl already does that for me.”
“Aye, but does he do it using nothing but his tongue?”
“Uh, I—I—” Lola stammered, turning around to implore a little help from the candy-maker.  But to her dismay and relief, Carl had disappeared into the back room.  With her face burning a crimson red, she was thankful she and the Scottish sex-god were the only customers in the store.

NIGEL LACHLAN WAS USED to leaving women starry-eyed, stuttering and speechless.  Back
in Scotland, all the young ladies in his village were mad about him.  At the onset of puberty, he went from being a cute-as-a-button lad to a dashing young buck.  Now, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, he was a rugged, virile landowner with the strength of an ox and the sexual prowess of a panther.
What Nigel wasn’t used to was the effect this licorice-loving lass was having on him.  When he gazed into her big, brown eyes, he felt lightheaded.  The thought of his hands spanning the width of her curvy waist and his fingers possessively digging into her ample hips caused a cacophonic clamoring of his heart and a dangerous hardening of his cock.
Needing to be closer to this beautiful brunette, he stepped forward.  The creamy, ivory skin of her gorgeous, perfectly-oval-shaped face beckoned the gentle caress of his hand.  He couldn’t help but smile at the blush tinging her cheeks.  His brazen comment was the reason for the rise in color and, as his gaze rested on her full, cherry-red lips, all he could think about was kissing them.
Caught in the electric pull of attraction that was crackling between them, Nigel momentarily forgot the reason he had made the long journey to America.  He was here to fetch the woman he had been courting via the internet.  To take her back to Scotland and make her his bride. 
Even knowing full well that he shouldn’t, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and cupping this lovely woman’s face.  His voice cracked under the intensity of such overwhelming feelings of desire.
“You’re the most breathtaking lass I’ve ever laid eyes or hands upon.”
He could hear the sudden, sharp intake of her breath as his thumb feathered across her delicate cheekbone.  The warmth of her soft exhalation brought with it barely-audible words.  “You shouldn’t be touching me in such an intimate manner, mister.  I don’t even know your name.”
“Nor I yours,” he said, continuing to gaze at her with an overpowering longing—one that demanded he pull her against his chest and crush her mouth beneath his.
The click of a gun being cocked followed by a harsh voice stilled them both.
“Nobody gives a fuck what your damn names are.  Both of you are goin’ to die if the fat-ass bitch don’t git to emptyin’ that cash register into this here sack!” he said, tossing a bag onto the countertop.
Neither Nigel nor Lola had heard the robber come in.  They had been so absorbed in each other and the magical moment morphing between them that the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Nigel was shocked by the flare of her temper.
“You best back off, turd face! I happen to be an attractive, perfectly-proportioned, plus-size woman.”
The robber gave her an evil grin, revealing rows of rotten, crooked teeth.  His breath drifted across the candy store in a putrid, green fog.  Nigel noticed it activated her gag reflex while he mentally wondered if the criminal was a crystal meth addict, resorting to thievery to support his habit. 
Nigel was also wondering where the devil Carl was.  He was hoping like hell there was a silent alarm in the back room, and the candy-maker was pressing the button right now.
“You’re fixin’ to be a perfectly-dead woman.  Now git behind the counter, and hand over the money.”
Nigel gave Lola’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  “You best do as he says, lass.  It’s never a good idea to argue with a crazy man when he’s holding a gun on you.”
“Who the fuck you callin’ crazy? You the one wearin’ a dress,” the robber said, reaching out with the barrel of the gun and flipping up the hem of Nigel’s kilt.
Nigel growled in response, causing the much smaller man to back away as if he thought better of standing so close to a huge Scotsman.  But putting space between them didn’t silence the robber; he continued his verbal prodding.
“Shit, I bet you’re one of them fairies.  You like butt-fuckin’ other men, don’t you?”
Smiling, Nigel’s voice remained controlled and low.  “I’m betting you’re the bugger.  You’d spread those arse cheeks quick enough for a drug fix.”
Lola cleared her throat.  “Uh, I thought antagonizing a nut with a gun was a bad idea.”
The robber leveled his Colt Dragoon pistol at Lola’s head.  Nigel recognized the firearm as an 1848 army revolver.  Most likely the man had stolen it, too.  Nigel had seen them sell for as much as five-thousand dollars in online auctions.  The fool was holding a valuable asset and didn’t even know it. 
Checking to make sure the hammer was pulled all the way back and fully cocked, the criminal shouted, “That does it! I’ve had my fill of this shit! I’m killin’ both of you, and I’m startin’ with the big-butt bitch!”
The instant his filthy finger touched the trigger, Nigel lunged, knocking the curvy spitfire to the floor.  There really was no other viable option.  He couldn’t have reached the gunman in time to secure the weapon, but he was close enough to the lovely lass to shield her body with his.
The moment the shot was fired, Carl came running out from behind a heavy tapestry curtain, waving a shotgun and angrily shouting something in Spanish.  Nigel didn’t know whether or not the crook understood the language any better than he did, but whatever Carl said sent the rotten-toothed robber running.
Even if Nigel had spoken Spanish, he wouldn’t have registered the meaning of the words.  His mind was too busy wrapping itself around the fact that a bullet had just torn through his shoulder.

Lynn Cooper grew up in a small town in South Carolina with big dreams of becoming a ventriloquist.  She ordered her first and last dummy from a Sears catalog.  It didn’t take her long to realize that she was never going to be able to talk without moving her lips.

She got married at the age of twenty-three and worked for a decade in the health field as a surgical technologist and later as a dental assistant.  When she grew tired of looking at people’s innards, she decided to give writing a try.  As it turns out, she’s pretty good at it.

Lynn lives to write plus-size romance.  It is her greatest desire to create stories that entertain and provide a sensual escape for all the amazing women who need one.

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Muffy, likened in style to one of the Bronte sisters and Anne Rice, is an award winning bestselling author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion. An American author of the popular Shadow Seduction Series (a paranormal love story) and the Ribbons of Moonlight Series (a contemporary romance), she has penned a dozen other books and anthology collections. 

Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt. 

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