Heather Fawxx moved to a small town in the hopes that her adult-film past wouldn't follow her. But her hopes were dashed when she was immediately recognized by her new neighbors. Now, the sparks of desire are igniting. Who will she choose? Young, attractive Nate? Or the older, bi-curious Barbara? One thing is sure: Life is interesting when your neighbor's a porn star!

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

Twenty minute's work with a real shovel put the sidewalk in order, though Nate suspected the whipping wind would drift it all over again with blowing snow before sunrise. Frowning, he took a look at the driveway. Full dark had fallen and cold hard stars glittered in the ink-black sky. He shivered and pulled his cap down tighter around his ears. In weather like this it was easy to believe some of the more lurid tales from American history, where unprepared settlers had to resort to cannibalism to survive.

He re-entered the house, stamping the snow off his boots. “Miss McCormick?” he called. “Heather? I'm back.”

“In here,” her voice called. He followed it down the hallway to a door, cracked open. He tapped on it. “Come in, Nate.”

*****

She was dressed in a robe out of one of her films. No, he quickly corrected himself. She never wore anything that good in any of her films. Not the ones I saw, at least. Rather, it was a gown out of one of his fantasies. Sheer and white, it glittered in the dim light of the bedside lamp, tiny sequins throwing sparks back into his awestruck gaze. It was long, reaching down to her ankles, but the transparent, gauze-like material both hid and revealed her incredible body. He could see her shadowy curves, moving under the cloth like sunken treasure in a deep ocean.

He took a deep breath. He would not, would not, embarrass himself. “Feeling better?”

“Much better,” she smiled. She took a few steps towards him. “Thank you for watching out for me. It was stupid to go out to shovel the walk in weather like this. If I had been thinking straight, I wouldn't have tried it. And I definitely would have stopped once I realized I didn't have the right clothes or shovel to do the job. But I get so damn stubborn sometimes and can't admit I'm making a mistake.”

He felt one side of his mouth curl up in a lopsided smile. “I'm familiar with the idea. I think half the population of South Dakota is descended from people who were too dang mule-headed to realize that living here was a bad choice.”

“Hmmm,” she smiled. She took another slow step towards him. The movement left her only a foot or so away. He wanted to retreat, but his feet seemed frozen in place.

She lifted her hand and let it trace, lingeringly, over the thick sweater he was wearing. “Which leaves us with the question of how to suitably reward you, my hero.”