by Harper Bliss
Jo’s lips draw into a pout, but she doesn’t say anything.
“What?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“If you’re not ready to go to sleep, we might as well talk.”
She adjusts her position so she can look at me better. “You know how the brain can make these crazy associations, jump from one random thing to the next?”
I nod.
“Thinking of Amber made me think of how you slept with her once and that made me think of something else… Something I’ve been meaning to ask you for some time.”
“Shoot.”
“We’ve been together a while now.” Jo reaches for a handkerchief and wipes the underside of her nose. “I guess I’ve been wondering when you’re going to bring up the inevitable question.”
“The inevitable question?” I know what she’s getting at. Of course I do. But before I can bring up this subject, we’ll have to work on our communication skills a bit more.
“You know.” Her facial expression tightens. “Sleeping with other people.”
“Darling, I’m not sure tonight is the right night to start that conversation. You’re a little grumpy about having to cancel your gig, which I understand completely. And you’re sick.” I stroke my thumb over her hand. “Tonight, you just need to be pampered.”
“I just would like to know. I feel like this has been hanging over my head since we got together. That at any time you can sit me down and tell me it’s time we started sleeping with strangers.”
“I would never even dream of broaching the subject when you’re so defensive. Although I’m beginning to think we should have talked about it already, as it’s clearly weighing on you. You make it sound like something I’m going to force on you, while that’s absolutely not the case.”
Jo’s features relax and she sinks a little deeper into the pillows. “Frankly, I don’t even know where we would find the time.”
“To have a conversation?” I envelop her hand in mine.
“To find other people to sleep with. I barely have time to spend with you.” She locks her gaze on mine.
Even though Jo has moved in with me, she’s very adamant about her financial independence, so I have to tread carefully. “How many colds have you had this winter? It seems you’ve barely healed from one when another’s already waiting in the wings. Maybe your body is trying to tell you something.”
“I’m not even thirty. I can take it.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to listen to the cues your body is trying to give you a little more. It’s not normal to suffer from so many colds. This is not the first gig you’ve had to cancel. Maybe it’s time for something else to give?”
Jo pushes herself up a little. “How did this turn into a conversation about my health? I thought we were talking about something else entirely?”
“Being under thirty doesn’t make you superhuman. You need to take care of yourself. You were already stretched too thinly when we met, between working at the Pink Bean, working on your PhD and being Sheryl’s Teaching Assistant.”
“Which is why I’m no longer Sheryl’s T.A.”
“I can tell you’re not in the mood to talk about this, but—”
“You just need to tell me one more time.” Jo’s lips draw into a soft smile. “Maybe it’s time to stop working at the Pink Bean.”
“You can’t keep on doing all the things you’ve been doing.”
“So I can have more time to sleep with other people.” She tilts her head.
I shake mine in response. “You’re being deliberately contrary.”
She clasps a hand to her chest. “Who? Me?”
“Yes, you.” I sneak my hand along her belly. “If you weren’t sick, I’d punish you.”
“Oh really? How would you do that?” She puts her hand over mine.
“I have my ways, but if you want to find out, you need to get better first.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Jo leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “I just hate not being able to sing.” She lets herself drop against the pillows again.
“Don’t I know it.” I give her a smile.
“If only you could hold a tune, I could send you as my replacement.” She chuckles.
“What are you insinuating?”
“Same as always.” She puts her head on my shoulder. “You’re a woman of many talents, but singing’s not one of them.”
“My voice is just more of an acquired taste, that’s all.”
“No, honey.” Her chin bumps against my shoulder as she shakes her head. “It’s really not.”
“Go to sleep now,” I say. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
As we settle under the sheets, I know it will be a while before I’m able to nod off. My mind is too preoccupied with things left unsaid.
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To read the rest of Caitlin and Josephine’s story, get Love Without Limits HERE
A Note from Harper
Dear Reader,
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If you’ve enjoyed this book, you can make a big difference. Reviews are the most powerful tools in my arsenal when it comes to getting attention for my books. Being an author who writes for a niche market (lesbian fiction), I don’t have the financial muscle of a big New York publisher behind me when it comes to marketing. I can’t take out full page newspaper ads and put posters in the subway.
But I do have something much more powerful and effective than that, and it’s something those publishers would kill to get heir hands on: a committed and loyal group of readers. (You!)
Honest reviews of my books bring them to the attention of other readers (and encourage the Amazon algorithm to promote my books in 'Also Boughts' and search results on the website.)
If you enjoyed this book I would be very grateful if you could spend a few minutes leaving a review (it can be as short as you like) on the book’s page. You can find the links HERE >>
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Thank you,
* * *
Harper xo
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Acknowledgments
Dear Reader,
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I can imagine I have you guessing right about now: Is Jane Quinn inspired by me or just another figment of my imagination? As Jane puts it in the book: “Nothing is ever fully made-up, just as nothing is ever literally drawn from life.” But perhaps using Jane as my spokeswoman (again) is a bit of a cop-out. As this is my last book of the year (please read on to find out why), allow me to tell you the story of what came before and inspired a great deal of this book.
At the start of this year, my wife and I embarked on a nomadic adventure. We had barely left when I already knew it was a mistake for me—being a delicate little flower of a writer, with my routines and safe spaces and word count obsessions. I was unable to thrive in constantly-changing environments, moving from here to there, finding myself in strange beds and unknown rooms all the time.
I learned along the way that, much like Jane, I depend on the comfort of my home-made morning coffee and the familiarity of my writing space to produce new words. Being
on the road took away most of what made me able to write so many books every year. I started writing less. I began dreading the moment I had to face the blank page again. I was afraid I had lost the ability to string coherent sentences together forever. Just like Jane, I went long stretches without creating new words—times that left me strangely bereft, even though writing seemed like the last thing I wanted to do.
Many of Jane’s insecurities are my own. It was only through writing her character that I found my writerly voice again—and I went from starting this book in a lackluster, it’s-not-going-to-be-very-good way to really enjoying the process of writing again. Jane’s journey is very similar to mine, hence I put a bit more of myself in her than I would usually. After which I took things another step further by giving her a similar series idea to the one you’ve been reading. It’s a bit of an in joke for myself—an indulgence I allowed myself after this difficult year—that continues to bring a smile to my face. Because, of course, just like Jane’s, my life is back where and how I want it. I’m writing a healthy amount of new words every day. I’m comfortably settled back in my home country. I have my own writing spot again—and a pretty capricious coffee machine that nonetheless makes cappuccinos just the way I like them.
For this reason, I haven’t been able to write as many books this year as I would have liked. When this book comes out at the end of September 2017, it will be my last publication of the year. But rest assured that I will make up for it in 2018, which will see the release of three more Pink Bean books, and a new French Kissing Season. (And the start of a new series that I’ve already started plotting and am madly excited about.)
Throughout all this emotional mayhem my wife has been my faithful companion. When I suffer, she does, too, only she rolls with the punches with far less drama than I do. When I find life difficult, she does everything in her power to make it easier for me—this includes changing our plans countless times and abandoning trips scheduled long ago. I sometimes joke it’s the cost of being married to a highly-sensitive writer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate every little thing she does for me.
As ever, I must also thank my fabulous friend and editor Cheyenne Blue; my always-encouraging beta-reader Carrie; all the members of my trusted Launch Team; and you, Dear Reader, for sticking with me and rooting for these Pink Bean characters as much as I do.
Thank you.
About the Author
Harper Bliss is the author of the Pink Bean series, the High Rise series, the French Kissing serial and many other lesbian romance titles. She is the co-founder of Ladylit Publishing and My LesFic weekly newsletter.
Harper loves hearing from readers and you can reach her at the email address below.
www.harperbliss.com
[email protected]
Also by Harper Bliss
For a complete list of all Harper Bliss titles, please visit harperbliss.com/books
Seasons of Love
#1 Bestseller in Lesbian Romance on Amazon
Is age really just a number?
* * *
Alice McAllister is a successful solicitor who likes a quiet, disciplined life. But when her business partner Miranda forces her to take a vacation at her holiday home in Portugal, the presence of Miranda’s daughter Joy turns Alice’s world up-side down.
Despite their age difference, Alice and Joy embark on a fiery holiday romance… until they have to return home to London.
Will Alice be able to forget about Joy and what she has awakened in her? And how can she face Joy’s mother without guilt after such a passionate summer fling?
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Copyright © 2017 by Harper Bliss
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Cover picture © Depositphotos / egal
Cover design by Caroline Manchoulas
Published by Ladylit Publishing - Hong Kong
ISBN: 978-988-78013-1-3