Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Dom of the Dead

Sometimes stories are born from sheer imagination and some are born from telling the truth, no matter how hard it is to share with anyone, not to mention the world.
My Dom of the Dead was a bit of both. I’ve lost people who meant the world to me, ones so dear that you cry years after they’re gone. I’ve lost folks who I still whisper to when I’m scared or stressed, hoping somehow my words will find them wherever they are. I’ve had those moments when you’d give absolutely anything to have a chance to say just a few more words to them or hear their voice just one last time.
Carson in this story? She gets that. The rest of what happens to her is simply fantasy fulfillment, but if you could call up anyone from your past…have just one last time to speak with them whether they’re dead and gone or just not in your life…
What would you say?

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She couldn't imagine living without him.
After Carson Black's longtime crush and best friend, Randall Stokes, dies in a motorcycle accident, she openly weeps at his funeral. In the ensuing days and weeks of inconsolable grief, she hears his voice, smells his scent, feels his desires. She must be going mad.
He was afraid to demand what he needed.
Dominant Randall Stokes loves Carson but never expressed it while alive, never daring to dream the sweet girl next door could be the submissive he needed to find satisfaction. But after his death, a much clearer perspective of her needs, wants, and desires emerges.
A ghost of a chance...
Is it too late to have what they've both longed for?

©2013 Virginia Nelson; (P)2014 Virginia Nelson

About the Author 

Virginia Nelson believed them when they said, “Write what you know.” Small town girl writing small town romance, her characters are as full of flaws, misunderstandings, and flat out mistakes as Virginia herself. When she’s not writing or plotting to take over the world, she likes to hang out with the greatest kids in history, play in the mud, drive far too fast, and scream at inanimate objects. Virginia likes knights in rusted and dinged up armor, heroes that snarl instead of croon, and heroines who can’t remember to say the right thing even with an author writing their dialogue. Her books are full of snark, sex, and random acts of ineptitude—not always in that order.

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