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Find Me cover photo Find Me

Genre: interracial contemporary romance
Release Date: 28 March 2020

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Nice Excerpt Naughty Excerpt  

Can a civil rights attorney and a Southern rocker find love at a Confederate statue rally?

Weary of climbing the corporate ladder to care for her aging hippie parents, Dee Dobson marches in a rally. When violence erupts, Rodney Walker, lead singer of Breeze, comes to her rescue. Their dramatic picture hits the papers, but an interracial relationship is out of the question for both their careers.

Between a long-distance concert tour, her endless overtime, and his racist brother, Jack, they struggle to build a future from their powerful connection. When a senator pursues Dee and helps her run for political office, things get even more complicated.

But their biggest obstacle is Jack. As a Southern gentleman, Rodney values family above all else. Due to a long-buried secret, he always gives his brother the benefit of the doubt, a decision that could cost him and Dee everything.

Find Me - Reviews

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Find Me - "Nice" Excerpt
Copyright © Afton Locke, 2020 - All Rights Reserved

She leaned back in his arms, a serene smile on her lips. "It’s so peaceful here."

"It’s also my favorite place." He gazed up at the moss hanging from the trees. "When I die, my spirit will probably hang around in the swamp."

She shivered, vibrating the boat. He felt it, too. A sudden chill, even though the air felt just as hot and heavy as it had a minute ago.

"Dee," he whispered. Her lips were so close. Kiss her already. Hadn’t he done that and more to too many groupies to count?

"I’ve got one!"

He felt it, too. The rod quivered in their hands, making every muscle in his body vibrate along with it.

"We’ll bring it in together," he whispered.

He guided her hands through every movement until the fish flopped on the bottom of the boat. The peace had been broken. Poles clattered and fell with a crash, water droplets splashed in their faces, and the boat dipped dangerously low to one side.

"It’s a channel catfish," he said.

"What are we going to do with it?" she squealed.

A serious feeling settled over him. "Send it back."

"Oh, okay." When she reached for it, he stopped her.

"We have to do it gently, to minimize its stress."

He snatched an old rag from the side of the boat and used it to grasp the fish. Once he had it, he lowered it close to the surface of the water before releasing it. Then he held his breath as some bubbles rose to the surface.

"Did he make it?" she asked, anxiously peering over the side.

"I think so. Otherwise, he’d be floating."

"That was fun," she said.

"You made it fun." He pulled her onto his lap again. Then he slid her sunglasses off to see her beautiful eyes.

"Rodney, I know you’re a southern gentleman and all, but if you don’t kiss me soon, I’m going to lose my mind."

He yanked off their hats and threw them somewhere into the boat. "Part of being a gentleman is knowing the right time and place."

And knowing when a private moment should be grabbed, because there may never be another.

"Is this it?" she asked.

He tilted her chin with his index finger and ran the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip. She squirmed in his lap, exhaling a moan before he locked his arms around her and claimed the rest of her mouth.

"You tell me."

If you want a naughtier excerpt, keep reading...

Find Me - "Naughty" Excerpt
Copyright © Afton Locke, 2020 - All Rights Reserved

He grabbed an enormous green towel and washcloth from the metal rack and set them on the vanity. “Here you go. Soap and shampoo are inside the stall. Do you need anything else?”

Their gazes caught and held…too long.

When he grabbed the belt buckle of his jeans, her gaze dropped to his hand and didn’t let go.

"I need a shower, too," he said hoarsely. "And, well, there’s no flag in here."

"I expected you to have one as a shower curtain," she joked.

But she caught his drift. Running water would mask any sounds they made in case the evil brother woke up. Without taking her eyes off Rodney’s waist, she stooped to remove her sneakers. She straightened and padded toward him in slow motion. The thick rug massaged her feet, which only fed the desire rising inside her like a high tide.

Her hands got a mind of their own as they fastened around the big, round buckle and tugged it open. He jerked his zipper down and pulled off his tank top. Her nipples tightened so hard they ached. Ever since he’d rescued her at the rally, she’d wanted him. No, before that. She’d wanted him the first time she’d heard him sing.

She ran her palms over the warm, solid planes of his chest, but he grabbed one of her hands and pulled it down. Lord, the man had a thick package. The bulge she’d always seen in his pants didn’t disappoint.

His eager erection was the best thing she’d ever felt, too. When she rubbed the length of him, a moan escaped him and he slumped against the vanity. Before she could do it a second time, he growled and peeled off her clothes.

"Don’t move," he said as he reclined against the vanity, watching her.

His gaze felt as heavy as a caress. In response, goosebumps popped up all over her flesh. Without another word, he walked her toward the shower and turned on the water. In moments, the glass-doored stall filled with steam.

Hot water pulsed over their bodies. Rodney’s hair looked even sexier wet. Long sheets of it framed his muscled flesh, which turned rosy in the hot water. His jutting organ reddened, too.

He sat on one of the built-in seats and pulled her back-first onto his lap as he had in the boat. His cock, slick and hard, rubbed against her buttocks. When would she feel it inside her? To fill her aching need? If he decided to act like a southern gentleman now, she’d scream.

With his arms around her, he leaned toward the nearby soap dispenser, built into the shower wall, and squirted a dollop of pearly fluid into his palm. It reminded her of cum, which made her cleft burn even more. With exquisite gentleness, he rubbed it over her arms, releasing its herbal scent. Going back for more and more to cleanse her legs, back, and belly.

When he lavished extra care on the scar from her stab wound, it made her recall the rally. She’d been terrified of dying until he’d carried her to safety.

I must be dreaming! Never let this shower end, even if my skin turns into a wrinkled prune.

When would he wash the parts she needed most? As if reading her mind, he palmed her breasts. Through the soapy bubbles, the warm friction of his hands against her swollen nipples sent her into the stratosphere.

Then he shut off the faucet, dropped to her feet, and nudged open her thighs.

Oh, no he isn’t...

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Last Updated: 24 March 2020
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