The Truth About Roxy

The Wild Rose Press

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 92,951
1 Ratings (4.0)

Roxy Palmer is a walking, breathing cliché. And darned tired of it. Working as the assistant librarian in her small, Southern home town, Roxy also anonymously pens the local love column, ASK PAULA ROCKWELL--Thorton, Georgia's answer to Dear Abby. But when the door leading to Roxy's lifetime dream is slammed in her face by one of the good ol' boys, Roxy brings out the big guns--and turns the genteel town upside down with her racier, feminist, home-wrecking new format. Paula Rockwell is making Sheriff Noah Kennedy's life crazy. He's got angry husbands lined around the block, demanding the cancellation of the column, fights breaking out and women catching their boyfriends' trucks on fire. If he ever gets his hands on that woman… But he's got his hands FULL of Roxy at the moment, and if he ever discovers the truth about Roxy, all hell will break loose.

The Truth About Roxy
1 Ratings (4.0)

The Truth About Roxy

The Wild Rose Press

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 92,951
1 Ratings (4.0)
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Excerpt

He figured she was up in the library, and he headed there, sliding his hand up the smooth balustrade as he went. He hadn't spent much time on the second floor, but he knew she only used a couple of the rooms.

Taking a guess, he turned left at the top of the stairs and stopped at the first door he came to. He turned the knob and pushed it open.

Sweet Jesus on a footstool.

The room certainly wasn't the library, and Noah would've have been hard-pressed to admit that the naked woman toweling herself off inside was a librarian.

Roxy stood next to the bathtub, long, inky curls dripping water that rolled down soft, pink skin. Legs--good God, the woman had miles of legs--gave way to lush, feminine curves.

Curves she had no business having.

She faced slightly away, so he only got a partial view of plump, full breasts, a tease of a rosy nipple. Round tush.

Sweet Jesus on a footstool.

It took Roxy a moment to feel the draft hit her naked backside. Pausing as she toweled her hair, she looked over. And froze.

Noah Kennedy, her pal, the man she'd secretly lusted after for years, stood there, gaping at her.

She couldn't move. Oh, God, she couldn't move an inch. Noah watched her and his expression, a cross between shock and ire, might've have been amusing if the whole situation wasn't so humiliating. Heat crept from her naked breasts and traveled upward until her face flamed. He stood there watching her as she watched him. Roxy finally regained control of her motor skills and whipped the towel around her naked body. "Noah!"

He looked dazed. "What? Oh, sorry. God. Sorry." He pulled the door closed. Lord.

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