When I first got the idea to write a series of stories set at a reunion and commencement weekend at a college, I worried that it would be difficult to keep timelines and details straight. I was right. Even though none of the scenes are repeated from book to book—I’d be terrified to tackle a project where I had to rewrite a scene from more than one perspective—there are still universal plot points to consider. Mundane stuff such as the weather, which plays an important role in all three stories, geography, and descriptions have to stay consistent. In addition, though the characters in the three stories almost bump into one another at various times and places, I had to make sure they didn’t actually end up at the same place at the same time, which is harder than it sounds.
The end result is three stories that take place simultaneously, in the same universe, but each has a unique feel as the characters carve their own path through the setting. Weston University’s reunion weekend is a place that will become familiar if you read all three books, but you won’t get tired of the same set pieces. You’ll also see the larger picture of how everything fits together by the end of the series. One realization that was brought home for me in the writing of these novellas is how everyone truly is the hero of her own story. The classmate you haven’t seen for years can’t sum up her life in a few sentences. She could be coping with death, birth, love, loss, family, and probably is dealing with all of that and more. For as many people on this planet there is a grand, epic story in which the rest of us can only play tangential roles.
So go forth, and read about love lost and found, finally consummated, re-consummated, unexpectedly consummated.
Happy summer and happy reading!
Buy Passionate History
Buy Sweet Imperfection
Buy Endless Devotion
Enjoy an excerpt from Endless Devotion:
She pulled him farther into her hiding place, little more than a depression in the outer wall of stone. He warmed up as soon as he pressed against her, even though he was probably transferring some of the dampness onto her. She didn’t seem to mind as she wriggled closer to him, making him crave her soft, lithe body. He was enveloped by the fantastic scent of Katya that suddenly filled his nose, overpowering the fragrance of rain and the night.
She nuzzled his neck and then nipped it, a little love bite that had him groaning and reaching for her waist to hold her more snugly against him as his mouth sought out her long, graceful neck in return. She gasped as he drew on the skin lightly with his teeth, a little red mark no doubt forming on the side of her neck. It would show in the morning, but he didn’t care. She was his.
As if she could read his thoughts, she pulled slightly away from him. “We have talking to do.”
“Then talk.” He sucked on her earlobe for a second. “I’m very good at multitasking.”
“Multitasking is a myth.” She shuddered a sigh as he moved his tongue to the pulse of her neck and licked.
“Fine.” He pulled his mouth away and put a couple of inches of air between them, even though his entire body was screaming at him to press on, to touch every inch of her and then do it again.
She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. “What are you doing?”
“Stopping, so we can talk.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you just said—” Her laughter cut him off.
“I didn’t think you’d pick talking over....”
“Well, what we have to talk about is pretty important.” He didn’t want to be in this state of limbo anymore. He wanted to know that Katya was his and always would be. The suddenly serious look on her face had his nerves twisting a hole in his gut, replacing his arousal with fear.
“Yes.” She seemed to be composing herself. “And we will talk. But let’s do this first.” She took his mouth with hers, the kiss wet and hot and strong enough to slam them both back against the wall. The irregular pattern of stone dug into his back, but the sensation was not unpleasant. Coupled with her body molded to the length of his, her deep kisses were a drug that soothed away the cold sting of the rain.
Dev could wait for the words. He’d show her now with his body that he was hers and she was his forever.
About the author
Libby Waterford writes steamy contemporary romances. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two sons, where she works off her weekly pilgrimage to In-N-Out by swimming and climbing the city's secret staircases.
Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/author/libbywaterford