Check out some of the early reviews of my new romance book Love Not at First Sight:
“A visceral book that had my heart pounding and my blood racing numerous times.”
“Ready, a brilliant rising star in contemporary romance, does it again, weaving her magic throughout the words in this fun, light-hearted read.”
“Your going to love how this book reads…”
“Sarah Ready simply writes amazing stories. She gives us emotionally charged stories with realistic characters that have insecurities and vulnerabilities that will have you empathizing with them as they work their way to their happy ending.”
“Another one knocked out of the park! This book is so fun to read.”
I hear her moving over the rocks and dirt as she pushes herself up into a sitting position.
“Are you hurt?” she asks. Then even though we’re not touching I feel her shiver violently.
“No. I’m fine.”
She shivers again.
“Dang it, you’re right,” she says. I hear her zipper and she kicks off her pants. “What’s your name?”
“Sam,” I say automatically. Usually I introduce myself as Frederick to strangers. Frederick Knight. But this situation is different. I don’t want to be Frederick Knight down here. Not in this dark cave, freezing my ass off, cut off from civilization and possibly without a way out.
“I’m Veronica,” she says. “Figured we should introduce ourselves before we do the horizontal tango.”
I cough and sputter. “Ahh, what?”
“Kidding. Don’t they always have sex in the movies to ward off hypothermia?”
“Right.” I swallow.
“Seriously. Come here. My head hurts like a son of a gun and I’m freezing.”
I feel the ground and move across the damp rock. When I touch her arm she lets out a long sigh. It does feel good. She’s cold. So am I. But where our skin touches there’s a warm thrum that makes me want to press every inch of our bodies together.
“Feels better,” she says. “Do you mind?” She inches closer and presses her side to mine.
“No. That’s good,” I say.
I sit for a moment and enjoy the warmth between us, but then she shivers again.
“Screw this. Come here.” I open my arms and legs, and even though she can’t see, she can hear. She moves in between my legs and leans her back against my chest. I wrap my arms and legs around her and start to rub my hands over her skin. Then I rub my hands briskly together to create heated friction and run them over her again.
She burrows against me and lets out a sigh.
“Thank you,” she says against my chest and the heat of her breath and her body warms me.
“Of course,” I say and I keep running my hands over her.
After a while her skin warms and her shivers become less violent and more muted. When they do she shifts around and rubs her hands together. Then she moves them over my arms and my chest. Her hands are delicate, her fingers are long and thin with calluses at the tips. I shiver as she drags her hands down my chest.
“Cold?” she asks.
I nod, even though I know she can’t see me. I don’t think I can speak. She keeps creating warmth between her palms and then running her hands down my arms, my chest, my legs. I can’t see anything. Which is the only explanation I have for why I find her touch the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I don’t know where her fingers are going to land next. And because I can’t see anything, my other senses are completely focused on her. The rhythm of her breath and the whisper of her shifting movements against the rock. The heat of her hand dragging over me and sending warmth coursing through me. Everywhere she touches, heat spreads. Her hands move up my legs, my thighs… I stop her progress by placing my hands over hers. She stills. Then I draw her in close and wrap her against me. My breath is harsh in the quiet.
Enemies-to-lovers romance Love Not at First Sight excerpt
I kick my legs, fighting to pull the woman to the surface. I have a hold of her beneath her arms. She’s a dead weight and I pray that she’s okay, that she didn’t get hurt in the fall. The icy water urges me to kick harder. There’s no light. I can’t tell up from down. I’m going on pure instinct, and a prayer, please God, let me be swimming toward air.
I kick harder. My heart pounds in my ears and my lungs ache. Maybe I chose the wrong direction. Up was down, or down was up and I’m swimming to the bottom of the water. I start to panic. Then, just when I’m about to turn around, reverse direction, we break the surface. I gasp, drag in a harsh breath then cough and sputter. I draw the woman’s head higher. Float on my back and hold her against my chest. She coughs and sputters.
Then, “Are you okay?” she asks. Her voice is ragged and soft.
Before I can answer, her head falls again to my chest and her body goes limp.
My blood goes cold.
“I’m okay. Are you alright?”
She doesn’t answer, she lies heavy and still against me. I kick my legs to keep us at the surface and feel for her pulse. I let out a sigh of relief, it’s strong and steady. At least there’s that. She shivers and I’m reminded of how cold the water is. Like an ice bath. We’re going to get hypothermia if I don’t get us out of it soon.
But I can’t see. There’s no light. I dropped my phone when I went to grab her. I saw her flashlight fly from her grasp. Then I remember my watch. It’s a waterproof divers watch, a twenty-thousand-dollar piece that my sister bought me last year for my birthday. She laughed because she said she’d spent my money to get it. I’ve worn it ever since. Thank the Lord. I press a button on the side and the display glows. It gives a dim light that barely illuminates the space around my hand. I hold up my arm and twist the watch in the air. The light catches on the white stone and reflects around the cavern. The water that was black in the pitch dark is turquoise and clear where the light hits. There. About twenty feet away I can just make out what looks like water hitting rock. I can’t be sure. The light is too dim. But I swim that way because right now it’s our best chance.
I’m breathing hard and shivering harder by the time I reach the rock wall.
“We made it,” I tell the woman. I lift her onto the rock first, roll her onto the surface and then I climb out after her. Water sluices onto the rock and runs around us. It’s cold. It’s too damn cold. I feel for the woman’s pulse. It’s still strong, but her skin is like ice and she’s shaking.
“You’ll be okay,” I say. I keep talking, because it’s so dark and quiet in here that any voice, even my own, is better than the silence. “I’ve never been so scared as when I saw you fall,” I tell her. I keep my voice low and soothing. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here. Or even if there is a way out. My phone is gone, hers is likely in her pack which is still up on the stalagmite at the top of the crevice. To be sure I pat her pockets. Carefully. I don’t want her waking up thinking I’m some creep taking advantage. Nothing. They’re empty. Not that a phone could get reception down in the depths of a cave.
“We’ll get out of here,” I tell her. I put my hand on her arm. Dang, she’s cold. “I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”
I hear a scratching noise and then a rhythmic crunch, crunch, scratch. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. There’s something else here with us.
I hit the display of my watch and look around. Nothing. I can’t see anything. I hold it over the woman. I can barely make out the shape of her face.
She shivers again and I make a decision. I have to get her warm and I have to get her to help. I think the most urgent thing right now is getting warm.
Body heat. But first we need out of these soaking wet clothes.
I kick off my shoes and socks and then pull off my T-shirt. I wring the water out of them and set them out on the rock. Then, I strip down to my boxers and wring out my shorts. I’m too cold to feel awkward. I jump up and down and rub my hands over my clammy skin. Then I kneel down next to the woman.
I untie and pull off her hiking boots and socks. Then I work the soaking wet long-sleeved shirt over her head. I wring it out and put it next to her socks and boots. I feel around in the dark for the buttons to her pants. The skin of her stomach is cold and taut.
I find the button.
Suddenly, her hand lashes out and grabs my throat. She squeezes and I freeze.
“Take off my pants and I’ll kill you and leave your body in the dark.”
When your soul mate is the man you loathed at first sight…Book Two in Sarah Ready’s Soul Mates in Romeo series sparkles with tension and a delicious helping of swoon-worthy romance.
Veronica Diaz loves her career, her friends and the great outdoors – she has no room in her life for men. In fact, she knows there are only two types of men in the world: players and wanna-be players and she wants nothing to do with any of them.
So when a psychic informs Veronica that her fated soul mate is Frederick Knight “The King of Players,” Veronica does what any sensible woman would do – she runs.
A twist of fate lands Veronica in the depths of a pitch-black cave system with a man she’s never met and can’t see. As Veronica and Sam struggle to survive they open up, share their secrets, and risk their lives for each other. Soon Veronica starts to wonder if maybe not all men are players, and maybe she can trust Sam enough to fall in love.
The only problem: Sam is actually Frederick Knight. The man Veronica swore she’d never, ever, ever love.
In fact, she loathed him at first sight.
And if they make it out of the cave alive, and Veronica sees him for the first time, she’ll loathe him again. Won’t she?
But maybe, sometimes you can only see who someone really is when you can’t see them at all? And maybe you can only fall in love when it’s not at first sight?
“This will easily and unequivocally be one of your top reads this year.” By Bookaddict (Chasing Romeo, Book 1 in the Soul Mates in Romeo Series)