Anthologies



From Valentine's Day Breakup, by Cheryl Yeko:

"Baby, it's not what it looks like," Chad insisted, raking his fingers through his hair. His light brown eyes pleaded with her. The noise of the bar masked their conversation as the country band began to play "Your Cheating Heart" with what was actually a pretty good imitation of Hank Williams, and a sad testament of their relationship.


"She kissed me," he insisted for the third time, totally ignoring the long-legged Cameron Diaz look-alike standing next to him, still holding on to his arm in a possessive manner and watching Shelly with a smirk...


Buy Link: My Sexy Valentine




From Christmas Eve Surprise, by Cheryl Yeko

Who the hell does he think he is?
Amy was normally a very calm, reasonable person. All her life she’d been the one to go with the flow, not wanting to make waves. Whether that was with her girlfriends who couldn’t decide between pitchers of original margaritas or strawberry, or dates who insisted on taking her to those horror flicks she hated so much. Never one to cause a fuss, she’d just go along.

But not today. Not since she’d given her heart to a man who’d abandoned her when she needed him most. Six months, two weeks, and a day. That’s how long it had been since Steve walked out the door after screwing her senseless. His false promises still rang in her ears. Bastard!

Even now, totally stressed, and as big as a house, ready to burst with his babies and generally feeling like crap, her body perked up with interest.


Damned traitorous body.



From Sweet Equation, by CiCi Cordelia (aka: Cheryl Yeko & Char Chaffin)

“Emily, please talk to me.” Cole’s deep voice was right at her ear. When had he moved so close?

“I don’t have much to say, Cole.” She turned, bringing the bottle up between them like some sort of soapy shield. Which was a mistake, because now he stood just a few inches from her. She could feel his heat, smell his after-shave.

Gaze into eyes so impossibly blue, it hurt to meet them. Yet she couldn’t seem to look away.

The last time those eyes had glowed with such a tender light, he’d been, to put it bluntly, naked, buried inside her, and three sheets to the wind. The tremors rolling through her body from deep within her hadn’t subsided one bit, and while she had gasped from the aftershocks of her very first orgasm, he’d mumbled, “Sweet girl,” into her hair.

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