Author: Tina Maurine



“So, Tessa, did you ever figure out who Noah Garren and Dirk Archibladt were?”
I peeked at him under hooded eyes as he jounced his eyebrows playfully up and down.
“Dirk, no, but there’s something about Noah…”
“Are you effin’ kidding me?” Sam shot me a look like I was slow as I moved back away from the group a bit into shallower water, only knee deep. I didn’t want to have to worry about getting the seawater in my drink as I half reclined with one elbow in the mud, my legs floating out in front of me. I closed my eyes, cogitating on her snide comment and judgmental look, but they did nothing to my mood—I was healing from my hangover—as I absorbed the heat, steam, mud, my elixir…everything. I wasn’t going to let her ruin my good mood. It had taken me all morning to get it.
I listened now to the banter going on between Kari and a new voice. I opened my eyes briefly to see it was Dirk Archibladt—I still wasn’t going to call people by last names— standing between Sammie and Ari.
A strong hand glided up my left calf. My eyes flew open and Mr. Familiar-For-Some-Reason Noah sprawled on his elbows in the mud floating beside me. He smiled, and I noticed how straight and pretty his white teeth were; a good sign that he didn’t chew or smoke. He walked himself up on his elbows until he reached shoulder to shoulder with me. I took my time once again admiring his tanned, rugged good looks, thick hair, strong shoulders and back, nice firm ass and killer legs. His legs extended a good ten to twelve inches or so past mine, so he was about a foot taller than me, easily over six feet. I’d have to see him standing to be sure.
He smiled a shit-eating grin at my blatant perusal, before turning over onto his back. As my gaze combed back up his body, I noticed his strong thighs, taut six-pack, and an amazing chest that had a hint of ink hiding under the silica mud that covered most of his body. His chuckle brought me back from my lollipop walk down his yummy body.
“Like what you see?” Noah gave me a notably arrogant smirk. Then it dawned on me… his voice. It was the same husky baritone that had whispered in my ear last night after the last dance. Those amazing hands had been on my hips. The real kicker though—those full, sensual lips and already nipped at my neck. My nipples grew hard at the thought. Now, it was my turn to blush.


Tina Maurine is the gal on the sidelines at the party. The gal who smiles at everyone, but rarely initiates conversation; never the center of attention, but always taking notes on those who are. She loves watching people, their authentic responses to everyday occurrences and in turn has turned years of notes into fodder for her stories, an encyclopedia of emotions and character traits that come alive on the page. She never feels more alive than when she is creating; be it stories, music, graphic art, or painting rocks and canvases with her daughter.

















