Authors: Sharon Buchbinder
Killer Kisses |
Sharon Buchbinder |
Sharon Buchbinder-Romance Author (2012) |
Killer Kisses
is a collection of Sharon Buchbinder's tales, ranging from contemporary, short and chaste to paranormal, long, and spicy.
In
A Peck on the Cheek: Hurricane Jason
, a female private investigator searches for a two-timing husband, but lands in an hurricane shelter. Does she get her man?
In
Cat Nips: Catastrophe
, a crazy cat lady is evicted by her drunken landlord and the lives of her cats are at stake. Will she and her rescues wind up on the street? Or will a secret admirer find a better home for everyone?
In
Hot Lips: Lake Placid Cure
, a woman finds her husband in a compromising position--again. Looking to recover her dignity, she sets out for a medi-spa, encounters a murder mystery and discovers that miracles still happen in Lake Placid.
In
French Kiss: Pigmalion
, a speech pathology graduate student needs one more subject for her research project to graduate. She runs into a hot guy with a heavy accent and tries to recruit him into her study. Will he teach her the language of love?
In
Sizzling Smooch: Bonded for Life
, a Mexican artist runs for her life to hide in the little town where she graduated from high school. She's convinced no one will find her there. But a boy with a high school crush on her grew up to be a hunky cop--and he has her in his cross hairs.
In
Delectable and Delicious: An Inn Decent Proposal
, a chef and a hotelier join forces at a foreclosure auction of an inn and outbid a small time hood. The thug doesn't like being on the losing end of the deal. Things heat up outside and in the bedroom. Can the couple make a go of it? Or will the hood destroy their dream?
In
Release Your Inner Wild Women: Kiss of the Silver Wolf
, a young woman searches for the truth about her brother's debilitating disease. An intriguing man with silver hair and a penchant for long night insists she's his life mate. How does this sexy man figure into her family secrets? *Professionally Edited: Full Novel Sized
After working in health care delivery for years, Sharon Buchbinder became an association executive, a health care researcher and an academic in higher education. She had it all--a terrific, supportive husband, an amazing son and a wonderful job. But that itch to write (some call it an obsession) kept beckoning her to "come on back" to writing fiction. Thanks to the kindness of family, friends, critique partners and Maryland Romance writers, she is now published in contemporary, erotic, paranormal and romantic suspense. When not writing, she can be found attempting to make students and colleagues laugh, herding cats and dogs, deep sea fishing, or dining and having a few laughs with good friends. Stop by www.sharonbuchbinder.com for author interviews, book news and other updates.
Killer Kisses
A Short Story Anthology
By
Sharon Buchbinder
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing by the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
Cover Art provided by Wicked Muse Productions
COPYRIGHT © 2012, Sharon Buchbinder
Contact Information
Sharon Buchbinder, Romance Author
PO BOX 15005
Pikesville, MD 21282
Visit me at
www.sharonbuchbinder.com
Table of Contents
~*~
A Kiss on the Cheek: Hurricane Jason
Hot Lips: The Lake Placid Cure
A Sizzling Smooch: Bonded for Life
Delectable and Delicious: An Inn Decent Proposal
Release Your Inner Wild Woman Kiss Of The Silver Wolf
DEDICATION
To my husband, Dale, who fills my life with love and romance.
A Kiss on the Cheek: Hurricane Jason
~*~
Two hours after Laurel Canyon arrived in Punta Gorda, Florida, she stood at the window of her hotel room and gaped.
Was it really raining sideways? And was that a flying lawn chair?
She stepped over to the little battered nightstand and the lights went out.
The phone, surely that must be working!
She lifted the receiver. No dial tone.
Panic bubbled up in her chest, and the room began to twirl.
Deep breaths. Stay calm
. The weather service had predicted only a tropical storm, not a hurricane.
Pounding on the door startled her. “Everybody out! Time to evacuate!”
Her heart rate kicked up, and she threw the door open. A heavy-set, gray-haired man in a hotel uniform raced down the hallway, and banged on the next door.
She called after him. “Where am I supposed to go?” A Baltimore girl, Laurel had never seen a storm quite like this.
He stopped and turned to face her. Red from exertion, sweat poured into his eyes. He pulled out a limp handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Go to the lobby. The hotel bus will take you to the storm shelter.”
“But—“
“They’ve upgraded the storm to a hurricane. Category four. We’re too close to the Peace River. Grab your purse, anything important, and get downstairs.”
~*~
The shelter, really a converted high school gym, was jammed with people. Children wailed, a dog yipped incessantly in its carrier, and an elderly woman called for someone named Carol.
Laurel had thought it déclassé when she’d had to stay in that cheap motel; clearly she had grossly underestimated how bad her business trip would be. She sighed. All she had to do was snap a few photos of a cheating husband holding hands and kissing his latest bimbo, and she would have been gone. But no.
Mother Nature really is a bitch.
An old man with alligator skin leaned against her, and shared his beery breath. “You gonna eat that?”
Laurel clutched her purse, attempted to move sideways on the metal bleacher, and found she was wedged against the cinderblock wall. She glanced down at the limp ham and cheese sandwich. At the sight of his dirty finger touching the bread, her appetite fled. Wordlessly, she handed the food over.
He gave her a gap-toothed smile, stood, tipped his dirty sailor’s cap, and said, “Thanks.” A burst of laughter came from a short distance away. He swaggered over to a group of men and waved the sandwich as if it were a trophy. A pot-bellied man in an aloha shirt handed him a twenty-dollar bill.
A wager.
She hissed in annoyance, shook her head, and unzipped her small rolling suitcase.
Where is that hand sanitizer?
A shadow fell across her open bag.“Someone sitting here?” A deep-voice asked.
Great. Another jerk.
She didn’t even look up. “No, and I’d like it to stay that way.”
The man sat down beside her, jouncing the bench. She clutched the suitcase, grateful for the padded case protecting her camera. “Hey! I said no!” She turned to stare down the interloper and found herself falling into his big coffee brown eyes.
He swept a shock of dark brown hair away from his face with a large hand. Heat rushed across her chest and up her neck.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“You sure about that? There’s half a dozen more of those old shrimpers eying you like today’s catch. I thought I’d sit here and fend them off.” He smiled and his eyes crinkled with little laugh lines.
Mouth suddenly parched, she licked her lips, and said, “As long as you don’t have a bet to see if you can get food or something else off me, you can stay.”
“Good.” He waved at the shrimpers.
Boos and hisses erupted from them.
He turned back to her. “You know why they’re so interested in you?”
She put a finger to her chin in a thoughtful pose. “I think I hear a line coming. Is it my corn-silk blonde hair? My lapis lazuli eyes? Or my long, long legs?”
“All true. But the real reason is this…” He leaned in close to her ear, and his breath sent frissons of excitement racing in circles around her neck. “Your blouse is unbuttoned and they can see your lace bra.”
She looked down, gasped, and clutched at her gaping blouse.
“Thought you’d like to know.”
As she fumbled to close her blouse, more angry shouts came from the fishermen.
He shouted back. “Go sleep it off!” He shook his head and turned back to Laurel. “This time of day, they’re usually in a bar in Matlacha having a beer after a hard night of shrimping. The storm is interfering with their drinking.”
“They’re not the only ones who had other plans for the day.” Laurel shook her head and pulled her camera out of the padded bag. Still intact. She held it up and looked around the gym with the view-finder. And stopped.
Sleazoid hubby is here! In the flesh! With the bozo-haired bimbo!
He leaned back and stretched his long legs. “So, what were you supposed to be doing today?”
“Research.”
They’re not touching. Just sipping water and looking angry. That won’t hold up in court.
She put the camera down and gazed into his delicious eyes. She had a sudden intense craving for a latte. “And you?”