One Night in Boston
by
JD Martins
One Night in Boston is my third City Night
Series (after One Night in Madrid and One Night in Pamplona. In each of the
novellas so far, one of the main characters has been either from, or living a
long time, in the chosen city. In One Night in Boston, Amber was born in
Trinidad, but has lived in Boston since her childhood. Colm is fresh off a
plane and has never been in the city before.
I've written them that way because I
believe the city should be as much a character for these stories as the two
protagonists. One of the reasons for choosing a City Nights Series book rather
than another erotic novella is to travel to that city for the duration, and if
one of the characters is intimate with the city, the reader can more readily
discover things perhaps not known by the average visitor.
The second character (and it doesn't matter
if it is the male or female protagonist) is a visitor - helping the one-night,
"it was great but have to go get on with my life" hypothesis in the
three stories I've written - who is eager to learn a little more, explore a
little further into the city as the night proceeds. Thus things the reader
might not have known about a town, even if they've visited, come forth in the
story.
If I do another one, however, I think both
protagonists will be tourists. I've only lived in four cities. The fourth one
of those was chosen by another City Night Author as a setting, so I will have
to chose another city (possibly San Sebastian) which I am familiar with, but
where I've never lived. And writing a character who's a different gender, or
indeed race, from yourself might be difficult, but is possible. If I get it
wrong, I'm sure my female friends and acquaintances of colour will tell me
about it. On the other hand, writing a character who supposedly knows a city
like a native is a bigger stretch, and I'm not sure I could pull it off. Their
deficiencies will be glaring, and if they pass by a point of interest which a
local would have known about without comment, it will make the reader doubt the
veracity of other parts of the novella. And in erotic romance, we wouldn't want
that!
Blurb:
When Colm is stranded overnight in Boston, Amber, a hotel receptionist, agrees to give him a personal tour of the cradle of the American Revolution. Colm has loved and lost, and now takes pleasure where he finds it. Amber hasn't quite found her feet again after a recent divorce, nor is she very happy with what she sees in the mirror.
As they drive through the historic streets and stroll along the Freedom Trail, taking in the beautiful architecture of Beacon Hill and Back Bay, their mutual attraction grows and both take a chance on happiness. But can they trust one another? Can Colm convince Amber he's not just playing her, or is his one night in Boston just a fling?
10% of the author's royalties will be donated to WWF, the World Wildlife Fund.
Excerpt:
"Feck, feck and fuckin' feck," he yelled at
nobody in particular.
Amber guffaw.
"That's all right, Amber. You have your laugh. I'm
feckin' drenched."
Amber caught her breath. "I can see."
"So much for finding a restaurant. If we can get a
taxi to the hotel we can eat there. I have other clothes, and I can leave these
hangin' on a chair. They'll dry before mornin' in that sauna of a room."
Amber stopped laughing and shook her head, though she
still smiled broadly, her eyes glowing with mirth. It was like a little
sunshine. "No. We can dry them at my house in half an hour and go for
dinner later. It's still early; there's still lots to see."
"If you're sure," Colm said.
Amber was sure. She hadn't been until he fell. Well,
she'd been sure she'd kiss him, but as to inviting him home, she'd not thought
about it. Much. Well, okay, she'd thought about it, a lot; all the time they
were holding hands. But she'd believed it was still a decision waiting to be
made.
But once she'd said it, she was sure it was the right
thing.
Well, maybe it wasn't. He was getting on a plane the next
day and flying out of her life, just like Billy had—though that had been after
a lot more than one day. She didn't like one-night stands because she felt she
was just getting played again. But screw it, she'd made her decision. She
didn't go back on decisions; even bad ones. Her mami could attest to that.
Anyway, it wasn't often she could let herself take such a
chance. Normally she had the kids in the house and that made it impossible to
bring a man home. Nor was it often she met a man who wanted to come home with
her—or who was worth bringing back home. Since Billy left she'd only been on a
few dates. Men didn't get turned on by the fact she'd two teenage kids.
Colm looked like his ass was cold. The snow stuck to his
pants and he pulled at them to keep the wet cloth away from his legs. By the
time a cab slowed and stopped for them, the pants were nearly frozen stiff, and
sitting in the cab wasn't very comfortable for him. He made no move to lean
against her now, so he wouldn't get her wet. At least being frozen, water
didn't drip all over the seat, so the driver never knew the pants were damp.
Her flat was a small, two-bedroom walk-up in Mission
Hill. She really needed somewhere bigger. But it had a nice deck on the back
that looked out over Downtown, and when she got home and kicked back with a
beer or a gin and tonic—weather permitting—it was her own little sanctuary. All
the bullshit she had to put up with from customers and Billy and the kids and
the landlady, and whoever else got in her way that day, just melted away.
Colm seemed to appreciate the view, and didn't say
anything about the small size of the apartment. Nor did he mention the fact it
was only fifty degrees in the place. Amber supposed it felt warm to him after
the cold bath. He looked around for the washing machine in the kitchen while
she turned up the thermostat.
"I got a washer-dryer in the bathroom. I used to go
to the laundromat, but man, I'm tired of doin' that shit my whole life.
Landlady doesn't like it, but she can kiss my big black ass. I ain't taking my
laundry through the snow all winter. Not the way my kids change their
clothes."
"Have you got a towel or anything? Just to dry
myself off a bit."
She laughed. She didn't think he'd be so shy about
disrobing, somehow; him a big farmer and all. "You go get in the shower,
warm your ass up. When I hear the water runnin', I'll come in and put the
clothes in the machine. Then I'll have coffee ready when you're done."
"That's great, thanks a million."
Colm got in the shower and Amber threw his clothes in the
dryer. Then she put on some coffee. It would be done percolating when she was
done with Colm.
In the bedroom she closed the blinds and turned on
Samika's bedside lamp so her own bed was in shadow when she turned off the main
light. She didn't want Colm to see her body in the cold brightness, exactly.
She was going to have sex with him, but it didn't mean she was completely at
ease showing him her body. If she was, she'd have gotten in the shower with him
already.
When Amber heard the water stop she went back in the
bathroom while Colm was still towelling off. He seemed a little startled, but
recovered quickly. He looked at her without speaking. She didn't speak either.
What was there to say?
She took him by the hand into her bedroom. He let the
towel drop when he got there. She turned around and sat back on the bed,
looking up at him. His whole body was extremely pale, his chest and belly
covered in thick hair. He had a bit of a paunch, but a wide chest, and his arms
and legs were muscular. He looked like he could pick her up and dance across
the room—had there been room to stand.
He didn't look like he wanted to stand much, though. She
stole a glance at his dick, already rising to the occasion as he climbed on the
bed beside her.
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About the Author:
JD Martins has been called Spanish,
Mexican, Chinese, Philippine and English and Australian. He is none of these.
He's lived in four cities in three
countries on two continents, but he doesn't feel like he's travelled very much.
His life in each city was rather mundane and he didn't get out much - tending
to move his pen more than his body.
He still aspires to see much more of the
world - probably when his wife becomes rich enough to let him retire from day
jobs.
He would like to live like Ernest
Hemmingway: periodically sending novel manuscripts to his publisher from
various far-flung corners of the world, though he's not sure the quality will
be quite the same. Until then, he has contented himself with living like Robert
Graves - in a pleasant part of Spain with a quiet life - and being able to do
some things that Hemmingway did - trout fishing in Spain, game hunting in
Africa, watching bullfights and running with the bulls, - and a few that he did
not get to do - surfing, skydiving, bungee jumping, and getting erotic stories
published.
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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.
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.
Join Muffy's mailing list to get the scoop on her new releases and special promotions at www.MuffyWilson.com. Follow her on Facebook at facebook.com/wilsonmuffy or /MuffyWilson.com and on Twitter at @SexyMuffyWilson. Muffy also blogs daily here: http://muffywilson.blogspot.com ~ Contact Muffy at Muffy@MuffyWilson.com. ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion
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My favorite place is a little mountain town called Timberon, New Mexico. When I was younger my grandparents had land there, we would camping. Sadly, I haven't been there in a very long time.
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