Addie Gets An Afterlife is a paranormal sex romance set in present-day Portland, Oregon.
Addie has built a sensible -- if boring -- life working as an insurance underwriter. She’s on track to marry Patrick, when an SUV runs a top sign, right into her tiny Fiat. But she's about to get a second chance at life – and at love. Brooke’s life sucks. She hates her job as a fitness instructor, hates her three-timing boss, and late night hookups just aren’t the consolation they used to be. Matt, in town to do some high-end finish carpentry, isn’t looking for a relationship, but he’s going to get one – or two – anyway. Content Advisory: Contains explicit sex, objectionable language, and descriptions of violence against women. Reader discretion is advised. Released February 2020. |
Kindle edition: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084DML8Y7
Paperback edition: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1792784554
Also available in Kindle Unlimited!
Paperback edition: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1792784554
Also available in Kindle Unlimited!
Sample from Addie Gets An Afterlife:
Addie tried to open her eyes, but they refused to budge. She heard the clean squeak of someone’s rubber-soled shoes approaching – a woman’s rubber-soled shoes, judging by the light step and quick stride. The woman stopped by her side, adjusted something Addie couldn’t see, and straightened the blanket covering Addie’s chest. Then the woman touched Addie lightly on the shoulder and whispered, “Hi, Ms. Maher,” and from that moment, Addie could see. She saw the woman’s hand, and she saw herself lying with the blanket and sheet neatly arranged over her, and her straight blond hair lying lifeless at her side, and her own eyes, closed, sleeping. None of this bothered her, not even the white hospital gown with tiny violets spaced evenly from shoulder to shoulder. What bothered her was the clear green oxygen mask held over her mouth and nose with green elastic straps.
Uh oh.
Addie tried to open her eyes, but they refused to budge. She heard the clean squeak of someone’s rubber-soled shoes approaching – a woman’s rubber-soled shoes, judging by the light step and quick stride. The woman stopped by her side, adjusted something Addie couldn’t see, and straightened the blanket covering Addie’s chest. Then the woman touched Addie lightly on the shoulder and whispered, “Hi, Ms. Maher,” and from that moment, Addie could see. She saw the woman’s hand, and she saw herself lying with the blanket and sheet neatly arranged over her, and her straight blond hair lying lifeless at her side, and her own eyes, closed, sleeping. None of this bothered her, not even the white hospital gown with tiny violets spaced evenly from shoulder to shoulder. What bothered her was the clear green oxygen mask held over her mouth and nose with green elastic straps.
Uh oh.