Happy Tuesday! I woke up to a lovely 5-star review on Amazon for May Day from the Gothic Mom herself. May Day is a contemporary high-heat erotic novella with some giggles, some drama, and some scorching hot scenes. It’s set in Baton Rouge and Natchez, with scenes in the beautiful rural southeastern U.S.
I think you’ll love Marcy, the narrator and heroine of the story. She’s relatable, flawed, and perfectly lovable. Who wouldn’t be torn between the smokin’ hot, too-young laborer and the handsome, rich, totally appropriate bachelor? What’s a widow to do?
Read on for an adults-only excerpt from May Day. Marcy’s still reeling from yesterday’s X-rated outdoor encounter with Sam, the guy who’s building a patio for her neighbor. She heads to her back lawn, dreaming of round two, but some things just aren’t meant to be…
I hang up the phone and peek out my back door. It’s quiet, but I think I see a little movement in the backyard. My heart starts pounding. Is he back? Is he working today?
I comb my hair excitedly, cursing when I hit a snag, and brush my teeth. I don’t want to look too done, as if I’m trying too hard, so I skip the makeup and just put on a little lip gloss. I slip a sundress over my head, grab my X-rated novel and blanket, and walk through the garden path and the grass to the place I set up yesterday.
I see movement, but I want him to know that I’m indifferent. I refuse to cast my eyes over there because I’m in charge, right? I pull my dress off and lay out on the blanket again in my panties and bra. This time, I’ll make him wait before I take them off. I smile.
I hear muttering over in Melvin’s yard. Does he mumble to himself as he works? What’s he doing over there, anyway?
I suck in my stomach and arch my back so that my breasts thrust up into the air. It’s got to be driving him crazy. I undo my bra so that it hangs loosely over my boobs and start to rub light circles on my stomach, then slip my fingernails just beneath the elastic of my panties. I draw my eyebrows together and moan.
I hear a cough.
“Uh, Marcy? Are you okay?” a voice asks.
Aw, fuck, it’s Melvin! I sit up and quickly compose my face. “Why, hello, Melvin,” I say smoothly. “I didn’t see you there. I was just getting a little sun.” In my underwear. While I rub on myself. Shit, shit, shit. I avert my eyes as I fumble to rehook my bra.
“Yes, it’s a lovely day. I’m headed to the links myself for a foursome.” He scrubs one hand on the leathery back of his neck, permanently red-brown after a bazillion rounds of golf. He’s ignoring my frilly panties and bra, bless him, but his ears are beet red beneath the shiny dome of his head. “I was just inspecting the work I’m having done back here. I’ve admired the patio and walkway that you and Rick have for years.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean that you have, Marcy. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Oh, thank you, Melvin. Rick was a wonderful man.” I make a concerted effort to look Melvin straight in his eyes and avoid rolling mine.
“Indeed he was,” Melvin agrees. “A kind and intelligent man, and a great neighbor. A real success story.” His gaze drifts down to my lace brassiere and then whips back up to my face. “Well, then, this stonework looks good so far, so I suppose I’ll take off. Enjoy the day, Marcy.”
He turns and goes inside.
I fall back on my blanket and shake my head.
I am an idiot.