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Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7)
Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7)
Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7)
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Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7)

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I didn't do love or relationships.
I didn't need anyone.
But, my dick loved the ladies. I always had plenty of beautiful women throwing themselves at me.
What can I say?
Being a professional athlete came with lots of perks.
Sex being the best kind of perk.
I figured each one night stand got a story about sleeping with Micah Turner and I got laid.
Simple and uncomplicated.
No emotion.
No connection.
No baggage.
I was my own man, content to stay that way.
Until I met Emma Matthews—hot, curvy, and so sweet I wanted to eat her up.
She rocked my world and turned it upside down.
She made me feel things I never thought possible.
What the hell was I going to do with her?
~Micah Turner

I wanted love in my life. Mad passion. Aching tenderness. True partnership.
I knew adoring a man was a beautiful and messy ordeal, but I craved all of the highs and lows of letting someone into my life.
But, where, oh where to find such a man?
I didn't have time to search for the right guy as I was too busy with the salon I owned with my sister, Marla.
So, fate decided to drop Micah Turner into my lap one night.
Wowzer. With one smoldering stare, he hooked me, line and sinker.
He saw something in me that made me want to take a chance and be bold for once in my life.
Oh, I was so brave with him.
He looked tough, but I was able to see past his gruff exterior and recognize his flawed humanity, scarred heart and raw soulfulness.
He was the entire package...except his inability to stay connected to another human being.
He feared intimacy. I loved it.
He didn't know shit about love or relationships and it showed.
If he wanted a real relationship with me, he was going to have to work his ass off.
~Emma Matthews
**************************************************************
What follows is an adventure that will change their lives forever. Packed with raw emotion, heartbreak, deception, hope, redemption and love, this 7 part series will pull you under into the delicious world of Micah and Emma.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJessa Eden
Release dateNov 1, 2014
ISBN9781310526107
Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7)
Author

Jessa Eden

Over the last couple of years, writing has become a passion of mine. I pour my heart into each one of my stories, letting my characters go wherever they dare to venture. They often surprise and amuse me. I revel in exploring the human condition through the art of storytelling. Nothing gives me more pleasure than drawing you into a world of emotional connection, compelling characters and hopeful adventure, complete with sizzle and sensuality. My goal is to leave you breathless and panting for more... Write me. I love to hear from readers! I'm always looking to get fresh perspective, inspiration and insight to making my stories the best I can make them. I promise I'll write back. Until then, celebrate and savor the magic of romance, good people!

Read more from Jessa Eden

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    Book preview

    Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave (Box Set 1-7) - Jessa Eden

    Jessa Eden

    formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

    Smashwords Edition

    Micah, The Fierce Falls Hard For Emma, The Brave

    Copyright ©2014 by Jessa Eden

    Cover Design: Regina Wamba of MaeIdesign.com

    Editing: Hot Tree Editing

    Formatting: E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

    Adult Reading Material

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    This is a seven part series:

    Dedication

    PART 1

    2007

    CHAPTER ONE

    CHAPTER TWO

    CHAPTER THREE

    CHAPTER FOUR

    CHAPTER FIVE

    PART 2

    CHAPTER SIX

    CHAPTER SEVEN

    CHAPTER EIGHT

    CHAPTER NINE

    CHAPTER TEN

    PART 3

    CHAPTER ELEVEN

    CHAPTER TWELVE

    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    PART 4

    CHAPTER NINETEEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY

    CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

    CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

    PART 5

    CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

    CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

    CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

    CHAPTER THIRTY

    CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

    CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

    CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

    PART 6

    CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

    CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

    CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

    CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

    CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

    CHAPTER FORTY

    CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

    CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

    PART 7

    CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

    CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

    CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

    CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

    CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

    CHAPTER FORTY NINE

    CHAPTER FIFTY

    CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

    CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

    CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

    CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

    CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

    CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

    CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

    CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

    CHAPTER SIXTY

    CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

    CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

    CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

    CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

    CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

    CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

    CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

    CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

    CHAPTER SEVENTY

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

    CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

    Epilogue

    Dear Reader

    Acknowledgments

    Song list

    About the Book Designer

    Copyright Notice

    This is a seven part series:

    Micah, the Fierce Takes On Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt. 1)

    Micah, the Fierce Nails Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt. 2)

    Micah, the Fierce Dominates Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt.3)

    Micah, the Fierce Aches For Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt. 4)

    Micah, the Fierce Toys With Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt. 5)

    Micah, the Fierce Knocks Up Emma, the Brave (Micah & Emma Pt. 6)

    Micah, the Fierce Fights For Emma, the Brave(Micah & Emma Pt. 7)

    My parents-You've allowed me the freedom to follow my dream and my passion. That means the world to me. You’re the best. I love you.

    Jenn-My beloved best friend who dared me to dream and keep exploring. Your unwavering belief that I could create something worthwhile has sustained me through this endeavor. You’re amazing and I am so blessed to have you in my life.

    Finally, to all those that have encouraged me along the way, I am forever grateful that you saw a spark of imagination in my words and whispered nourishing words of hope that made the seeds of this story blossom within me.

    Standing on the side of a lonely hill in East Texas, I picked up some dirt and threw it on the grave, trying to keep my emotions in check. Relief and disappointment flooded me as they lowered her into the ground.

    I was alone, now...completely and totally.

    It was not like I wasn’t used to being by myself, but the last person I shared blood with was now lying in the ground. It was a funny feeling to realize I was the last of my line.

    It wasn’t a very distinguished family tree; in fact, good riddance to most of them, but this loss bothered me more than I cared to admit. I didn’t think I ever really understood what it meant to be a part of a family, and now, I never would.

    Hold up, time out.

    What was that?

    Did I just hear you sighing, "Ahhh, poor guy. He doesn't have a family?"

    Don't get sappy on me.

    You've got it all wrong.

    I wasn't looking to be part of some big, happy family where everybody was in each other's business. People made things messy. I wasn't interested in messy. That was why I played by my own rules. Life was much simpler that way.

    I walked back down to my Silver Porsche 918 Spyder, jumped in and tore out of the cemetery. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. That place reminded me I wouldn't live forever. I wasn't about to dwell on that little fact.

    Heading back toward the city, the wind whipped through my open window. The hot, sticky Dallas air cooled a bit as the sun receded below the horizon.

    I shifted into fifth gear, trying to shake the restlessness gnawing at me. It had yet to be named, but burned in my chest all the same.

    The right thing to do was to head back to my loft and crash as I had an early morning practice the next day. But I was too agitated to sleep. I needed a distraction.

    Before I knew it, I found myself at one of my favorite hotel bars. It was a familiar place that allowed me to unwind after a hard day. The aroma of cedar smoke drifted over me as I sauntered through the bar.

    There was always a group of old men who sat together in the back room and reminisced about the good old days. They laughed uproariously at each other's stories while puffing on expensive cigars. The high life.

    I bellied up to the bar and took a seat on the end so I could watch the hockey game. I loosened up my tie and ordered a scotch.

    I contemplated the day's sad event as I settled into a high back barstool. I had been the only one to attend my grandmother's funeral. Eve, as she preferred to be called, had finally passed after a long bout of emphysema.

    We had never been close. She was as crusty as stale bread and had never shown much maternal instinct, especially to her kid’s mistake.

    But that hadn't stopped me from moving her into a nursing home near my loft and paying a load of cash so she received the best care available.

    Besides that, I stopped in to see her on Christmas and Easter. I would bring her a box of Godiva chocolates, which she never ate. She'd glanced indifferently at the box, and over the whirl of her oxygen tank, she'd say in that raspy voice of hers, Thanks, kid. Gotta cigarette?

    I'd shake my head no and she'd say, Too bad. I really need one.

    And that was the extent of our relationship.

    Despite my grandmother's negligence, I had grown up, carved out a successful career, and had more money than I could ever spend in a lifetime.

    I didn't need anybody.

    I took another sip of my scotch, feeling its burn run down my throat.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a leggy blonde take a seat close to me at the bar. She ordered a Cosmopolitan and turned her attention my way. I could feel her eyes drinking me in as she wondered which pick-up line to use.

    I wasn’t really in the mood after the day I’d had, but I was never one to turn away a willing woman. She must have sensed a direct approach was best and addressed me.

    You’re Micah Turner, aren’t you...the hockey player? She turned toward me, her bright smile reminding me of a game show host's.

    I soaked her in as I stared boldly at her body. Her long, gorgeous legs led up to a decent figure that was bound in a tight, short, red dress. She looked pulled together, polished in that plastic kind of way with her makeup and long, blonde curly hair a little too perfect.

    Yeah, that’s me, I said slowly, giving her an appreciative stare.

    Her blue steel gaze glinted in the way a hunter zeroes in on her prey. That was quite a game you had against Minnesota. She paused, contemplating her next move. I enjoyed watching you work up a sweat.

    She was pouring it on thick. Mm-hmm, I mumbled into my scotch as I turned my attention back to the hockey game on the flat screen TV. I wasn't going to make this too easy for her.

    I saw her lift from her seat and drape herself onto the stool next to mine. She was wearing one of those cloying floral perfumes I detested, but I smiled at her anyway.

    Her hand found my knee, while her long, red fingertips gripped my thigh. Her eyes lit up with another seductive gleam, stalking me. You wanna work my corners, tonight? Her voice oozed with innuendo.

    I entertained her offer as her hand rubbed up and down my thigh. I had a shitty day, and burying myself inside a willing woman might just be the release I needed.

    She was a decent distraction.

    She would do.

    I undressed her with my eyes. Yeah, baby. I'll work your corners. I'll work you hard and rough until you're begging me to stop.

    She swallowed hard, absorbing my words as her eyes grew bright with erotic excitement. I like it rough. Her manicured hand dovetailed into my crotch. That's a meaty cock you've got there, she breathed out as her flawless face grew close to mine.

    I smiled, letting my wicked charm work its magic. I'll take you on a long, hot ride on my dick. Is that what you want?

    She nodded as her eyes half-closed in desire. I suggested we head up to my hotel room and she eagerly agreed. I had an arrangement with the hotel and kept a suite for such occasions.

    As we moved across the hotel lobby, I put my hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the elevator. Women loved chivalrous shit liked that. It made them prime pickings.

    As we waited for the elevator, she glanced up at me, stars in her eyes. Ah, she was playing the innocent. I could already feel her trying to get her hooks into me. No way, no how.

    We entered the empty elevator and I hit the tenth floor button. The familiar ding of the doors closing rang out, calling me to move. I stepped in front of her quickly, my hand shooting up and palming the side of her cheek as I brought her face close to mine.

    I held there for a moment, letting her know I was in charge and we were playing things my way. Her hand ran along my side, giving consent to what was about to happen.

    You ready, baby? You gonna give it up?

    Yes. She wagged her head back and forth quickly.

    She was mine now, at least for the next hour.

    My lips fell on hers, demanding submission. Ravishing her red-glossed lips, I plunged my tongue deeply into her mouth as I threw her against the railing, lifting her leg and ramming my hips into hers.

    She gasped in surprise, but came back at me like the tiger she was. She wrapped her arms around my back, throwing her modest tits against my chest as she ground her pussy into my dick, letting me know she had played this game before.

    Not so innocent after all.

    I possessed her mouth entirely, not letting her up for air as my tongue fucked her mouth roughly. I worked her overtime as my hand slid around to the back of her neck; my other hand kept her hips intimate with mine.

    She moaned breathlessly as we made out, my cock responding to the sexy sounds she made in the back of her throat.

    I loved the game of getting a woman into bed. Not that I had to work very hard with this one. She was panting by the time we got to the room.

    You’re beautiful, baby, I complimented as we stumbled through the doorway of the bedroom. I bet you have guys falling all over you.

    It’s automatic, the bullshit that flows from my mouth. I found myself surprised sometimes when a woman was willing to believe anything I had to say.

    My current conquest was no different. She batted her blue eyes at me, giving me a full-on fuck-me stare. She was putty in my hands, willing to do whatever I wanted.

    I pushed her gently onto the bed and she fell back, sitting up on her elbows as she parted her legs invitingly. She gazed hungrily at me as I untucked my crisp button down white shirt from my black slacks and threw off my dark tie. I tore off my shirt and tossed it to the floor, watching as her eyes filled with lust.

    I knew I looked good. Not an ounce of body fat and every muscle defined. I had to be fit; it was my job to take a hit and then turn around and crush a guy. I worked hard for the body I had, and enjoyed the pleasurable results it brought me.

    Take it off, I commanded, pointing to her red dress.

    She sat up and pulled her dress over her head, revealing a matching set of black panties and lacy bra. Just my kind of thing. I liked a woman well groomed and decked out in expensive lingerie.

    My fingers slid up her silky smooth thigh. She gasped softly as my hand covered her panty-covered pussy mound.

    I got on my knees. Lay back, baby. I'm going to make you feel good.

    I removed her thong as she laid back on the bed. She spread open as I studied her pussy. By far, this was the most fascinating part of a woman.

    I loved all pussies—wide ones, little ones, lips that were hidden, lips that screamed eat me...all of them. Couldn't get enough sometimes.

    I kissed my way down her flat stomach and buried my tongue into her hairless snatch. Tangy, sweet excitement met my taste buds as I started out slowly, drawing out her juices. I sucked her clit gently into my mouth a couple of times, her back arching pleasurably.

    Yeah, just what I liked to see.

    My expertise took over at that point; my tongue lapped around her clit as my fingers plundered her deepest depths. I rubbed against the wall of her g-spot, making her cry out. Yeah, that was the spot.

    My mouth began to move in time with my fingers. She clenched hard around my thick digits as her hands played with my dark hair. My ruthless mouth fed on her snatch, my fingers working overtime.

    I knew how to make a woman come.

    I was good at it.

    The key was to find the right rhythm that would set her off. Some women liked it hard and fast; others needed a soft, light touch to come undone.

    She was somewhere in between and I played her beautifully, building the pressure until she was ready to pop open in ecstasy.

    Her body gave out all the unmistakable signs.

    Writhing hips.

    Quivering thighs.

    Pitched moans.

    Her hands pressed my head deeper into her cunt, a shuddery moan erupting out of her as she reached her peak. She sighed softly and then relaxed against the bed.

    Yep, she was ready to take my dick.

    I wasn't going to waste any more time. I unlatched my belt buckle as I came to stand. She sat up when I pulled away, her bra still on, her eyes glazed over with post-orgasmic bliss.

    Her hand reached for my tented crotch. I went commando, so when she slid my zipper down, my big fat cock plopped out half-hard in her hand.

    Oooh, she inhaled, feeling the girth that would fill her up. She squeezed tight, a little pre-cum drizzling out onto her hand.

    You want a taste, baby? I asked as I narrowed my gaze into a primal stare.

    I didn't have to ask her twice.

    Her mouth attacked my dick, like it was a shiny, new toy.

    At first, it felt good. Like any other guy, I liked getting my dick sucked. Let me clarify that—I LOVED a woman's mouth wrapped around my cock.

    I allowed her to slobber up and down my shaft for a little while, but I wasn't digging on her technique. It quickly became obvious that the blonde from the bar's enthusiasm masked a certain lack of knowledge about the male anatomy.

    Her blonde hair rustled back and forth ferociously as she gave me a sub-par blowjob, making me analyze her inability to give me pleasure.

    One, she didn't have the first clue of how to suck dick properly.

    She had no timing or rhythm, her mouth bobbing up and down wildly, without much tongue. She couldn't even get half of my cock in her mouth. Not every woman could deep throat, but she wasn't employing any hand action to compensate, so half my dick was just left out of the party. Not cool.

    I liked my blowjobs slow, methodical, and complete with a skilled mouth that enjoyed giving me pleasure. Those kinds of BJs were the best. A natural-born cocksucker was my favorite kind of woman to hook up with.

    Those ladies seemed to be far and few between. The other ninety-nine percent had to be taught, which meant I would have to care, and I didn't care enough to put the time and effort into teaching a one-night stand the mysteries of the cock.

    She stared up at me, hoping to see I was under her power. Mmmm, she mumbled, her mouth stuffed wide with my dick.

    Yeah, I wasn't impressed by the fact that she had my hard-on in her mouth. I needed more than a willingness to open wide.

    Which bring me to number two: There wasn't anything she was doing that suggested she liked sucking cock.

    Can't stand it when a woman doesn't like dick. Why bother?

    Ladies, it's imperative that if you're going to suck cock, you must LIKE it. Enough said.

    Time to take over. I wanted to fuck.

    I removed my dripping cock from her mouth, dropped my pants, slapped on a condom, and let nature take its course. She eagerly welcomed me in, parting her long, toned, tanned legs as my tool found its way inside her wet pussy.

    She gasped as my cock stretched her to the limit.

    Yeah, you feel that deep? I growled.

    She threw her head back in ecstasy. Yes...

    Slowly, I inched my cock back and forth, giving her time to adjust. But, as soon as I bottomed out, I began to fuck her in earnest.

    My hips moved back and forth forcefully as her pussy sucked me in, her hot, cavernous depths working to accommodate me. I shut everything else out, concentrating on my cock finding its rhythm within her well-worn purse.

    She threw her pelvis against mine, writhing and clenching as my dick went to town. My body moved above hers, sliding deeply into her slit, over and over. I gave it to her good, her fingernails raking up my back.

    She stared at my face, wanting to draw me into some type of connection, but I resisted. I needed to stay detached. I was just performing a biological function, my cock demanding satisfaction.

    I began to ride her hard, letting go of all the day’s tension. Her cries spurred me on as I pounded her pussy relentlessly. My only goal was to feel the sweet release of my dick unloading inside her.

    Before long, I was ready to shoot. Yeah. Oh, yeah! My body quickly convulsed within hers as I collapsed on top of my latest lay.

    I rolled off of her immediately, done with whoever this was...Tina or Nina. Something like that. She curled up next to me and I tried not to wince. I was hot and sweaty. I didn't need the extra body heat.

    Plus, the afterglow, cuddling part of sex was never my strong suit, nor was I ever interested in becoming good at it. Not my style.

    I tore off the condom and tied it up; this little life saver was coming with me. I didn’t need any woman reporting she was pregnant with my baby. Women tried that shit all the time with athletes. I always had to watch my back.

    Thanks, babe, I needed that.

    She beamed at my admission, thinking she already had me pinned down. You’re going to stay the night, right? she asked with great hope, casting a coy smile at me.

    I was no sucker for seduction. Women served one purpose and I had already done that with her. Time to get moving.

    We’ve got an early practice tomorrow. I should get home and get some rest.

    Well, you can sleep here just as easily, she explained as she laid herself out hotly on the bed. Her lean golden torso stretched out and her high, firm tits jiggled lusciously.

    Was she worth another round?

    No, not really.

    No thanks, babe. I gotta get going. I placed a kiss on her cheek. But you can stay. The room's paid for the night.

    I got up from the bed and started collecting my clothes, which were tossed about the room. She continued to watch me, her blue eyes pleading with me to be different than I was.

    Women who were foolish enough to think this was more than a simple fuck always got my speech.

    We meet.

    We fuck.

    We leave.

    Were they really expecting something meaningful and long-lasting?

    Come on now. They know better, or at least, they should.

    I was an athlete, a rich one. I had my pick of women on any given night.

    I didn't make promises. I didn't need to.

    Still, I tried to be a gentleman and explain my code.

    We both had a good time tonight, but that’s as far as it goes. I stared at her directly, my gaze unflinchingly honest. I let her see I wasn’t playing hard to get, that I meant what I said. I am, under no circumstances, looking for a relationship, commitment of any kind, or marriage. I let that news sink in as I threw on my pants.

    Her pretty, hopeful face fell into an immediate pout. She came to me as every other woman always did, seeking something I couldn’t give her. She was beautiful and transparent in her desire for my station in life. Not gonna happen.

    I saw the dream of latching onto my star fade from her eyes.

    But, she wasn't down for the count.

    I watched her mind plot as I buttoned up my shirt. She changed tactics and walked slowly toward me. She was gorgeous in her naked state and she knew it. Most guys would have followed her back to bed, but she hadn't done a damn thing to soothe the restlessness that was clawing at me.

    She began to run her hands up and down my chest, looking every bit like the sex kitten she was. Well, you know this isn’t something I do often. I thought this was special.

    She licked her lips for extra effect and I shook my head. She was too much. I removed her hands from my shirt and let them drop to her side.

    Baby, you and I both know that’s not true. You planned every move back there in the bar. You just didn’t plan on me getting out of here tonight so quickly.

    Her face fell and I saw her lip jut out in a baby-pout, her blue eyes puppy dog wide. Okay, time to make my exit before I was sucked into a vortex of hot, vapid sugar.

    Good luck, honey. That act of yours will convince a man someday. I placed a kiss on her forehead. You were great. Thanks.

    I got up for practice the next day and went through my usual routine: a quick run, a protein shake, and the morning news. I hit the arena early and met with some of the trainers to work on my offensive performance. I had always been an excellent defender, but I was trying to become a more consistent goal scorer.

    I had been team captain for several years now and I took that role seriously. The guys needed to see me always working on my game; compliancy was the enemy. It was also the quickest way to get bounced out of the league.

    As I skated out onto the ice, I noticed the usual hockey bunnies floating around the practice arena. They annoyed me. Couldn’t they see that no man would be able to live up to the ideal prince who rescues them from their mundane lives? I never understood why women didn’t get that.

    I admit my attitude was less than great toward the ladies, but nothing in my experience had lead me to expect much from women, except being shit on, let down, or rejected.

    Who needed that? I was realistic enough to know I needed to give in to my cravings for a woman’s body. But other than that, I didn’t want much to do with them.

    The harsh reality was I wasn’t made to deal with the complications of relationships. So, I had high-tailed it out of the hotel room the night before, leaving Tina/Nina naked and disappointed. I felt a tinge of remorse, but she knew the rules of this game.

    She wasn’t some young, naive girl offering herself up. She was calculating and cunning, practiced and smooth in her attempt to get the man-goal of the moment.

    You know, it wasn’t like she wasn't using me, too. Every single one of the ladies who had offered herself up to me wanted status, power, and money. I wasn’t a man to them; I was a commodity, a secure retirement plan.

    Hard to feel anything for a woman when all you see reflected back in her eyes are dollar signs.

    So, I figured they got a story about being with me and I got some pussy, simple and uncomplicated.

    No emotion.

    No connection.

    No baggage.

    I was my own man and I was content to stay that way.

    Sanctuary.

    That was what I needed.

    It beckoned me at the strangest moment, like when I was teaching the wonders of amphibians. I was chattering away about how they can live in the water or on land when a beautiful, vibrant blue butterfly fluttered onto the bush outside my school window.

    I stopped talking as I watched it soar into the sky. I was sure it was destined for some amazing garden or blooming oasis. I wanted to be that butterfly and fly off to some new adventure exploring greener pastures.

    I sighed as my classroom quickly became a dull roar, reminding me of where my attention should be. It was yet another demanding day as a public school teacher.

    Once upon a time, I had been a young and idealistic educator, determined to make a difference. But what I found within the school system was a war zone: struggling kids, emotional problems, learning difficulties, and worst of all, indifference.

    Many days, I wondered why I was doing this when the problems were overwhelming. There were many moments when I wanted to give up and throw in the towel. Then, lightning would strike out of nowhere. I would reach a kid or watch a student rise to a challenge. Amazing. Those highs were irreplaceable.

    It was what made me stay.

    For awhile, it had been enough for me. I was content.

    But somewhere in the middle of the school year, my soul began to itch. My gypsy spirit clamored for freedom.

    My creative life had been non-existent since I had started teaching. I was putting so much energy into working with these kids that I had very little time to pursue outside interests. I managed to keep a plant alive, but that was it. No dreaming, creating, or living, really.

    Oh, but I wanted to live, to experience life in a different way.

    I started having these vivid dreams. Sometimes I saw my blue butterfly beckoning me to a beautiful field, where I enjoyed a tremendous sense of peace exploring Mother Nature's beauty.

    Most other times, I dreamt of my sister. Her bright, chocolate-brown eyes beckoned me warmly as she held her arms out wide, welcoming me into her embrace. I always ran toward her, eager to feel her arms wrapped around me.

    I woke up from those dreams longing for the sanctuary my sister offered. Marla was more like a mother to me. Our mom had died when I was little and she had made sure she filled that role in my life. We had always been close and I missed her terribly while I lived out of state.

    As the school year came into spring, I began to wrestle with walking away from my teaching career. I could no longer deny the urge to consider my options.

    Sitting at the kitchen table one Saturday afternoon in April, I stared at my teaching contract. I thought about all the work I had put into my kids, how far they had come along. That weighed heavily on me. But all I saw was this long road of routine and responsibility in front of me.

    That sounded so bad; I really did love teaching.

    But was I content to be the old maid school teacher the rest of my life? Because that was what it sure felt like I was committing to.

    Was that what I wanted?

    Dread came over me as I stared at the signature line of my contract.

    I couldn’t ignore the overwhelming itch to make some drastic changes. A crazy stirring to chuck it all to the wind and head to my sister’s in Baltimore kept running through my mind.

    I drummed my pencil on the table, feeling all of this intense energy flowing through me. Call her...call her the rapping seemed to whisper over and over.

    Before I could stop myself, I dialed my sister's number.

    Hello, Marla answered politely.

    Hi, sis, I said brightly, trying to contain myself from just blurting out my wild plan. Well, at least, it seemed far-fetched at the time.

    Hey, hon, she greeted cheerfully as she recognized my voice.

    Do you have a little time to talk?

    Always for you. How are you? How are things going?

    Marla always made me feel like she had time for me, no matter what else was going on in her life.

    I stayed silent, not sure I was ready to say my plans aloud.

    What’s up, honey?

    Well, I’m sitting here looking at my teaching contract, and I just can’t bring myself to sign it. I’m thinking I need a change, a big change. I was thinking I could come spend the summer with you. You know, just relax, figure out what I want to do, and spend some time with you.

    Silence greeted my unexpected announcement, and my heart sped up as I prepared for disappointment.

    Hmmm...are you sure about this? Marla asked cautiously.

    No, I’m not sure about anything. I can’t even really explain why I’m ready to dump my life. I just need to get out of here for awhile and make some different decisions about my future.

    Well, hon, I’ve always told you to follow your instinct. If this is what your gut is telling you to do, I would love to have you.

    Really, sis? You mean it? My feet were starting to move in celebration.

    Absolutely, I think this could be a good thing for both of us.

    Yippee! I squealed into the phone, joy filling my heart as freedom rushed through my veins.

    I danced around the kitchen a little bit more, excited and relieved that my sister was willing to entertain my crazy notion.

    My decision was instantly made; I knew what I needed to do. I tore up my teaching contract, typed out a resignation letter, and spent the rest of the weekend contemplating a new life.

    I sat in the parking lot of Ricci’s on the last day of school. Some of the teachers threw me a little party at our favorite bar. My heart was heavy and I didn’t want to say goodbye. I willed myself out of my car and made my way through the bright red doors of the bar.

    Emma…Emma…Emma! my teaching partner Larissa hollered from across the room.

    I could see her making her way to me. She launched herself toward me and flew into my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut as they grew moist with tears. I reminded myself for the zillionth time that I was making the right decision.

    Oh, honey, I’m gonna miss you! Larissa’s hazel eyes filled with tears, which tugged at my heart."

    I know, but I gotta do this.

    We hugged again and I told myself this pain would be worth it.

    After many more hugs and sad goodbyes, I left Ricci's determined to start this new chapter in my life. I packed up my belongings, hopped into my little sedan, and started out on my great adventure.

    It took a couple long days of driving, but I got to Marla’s on a rainy Saturday afternoon. The reality that I had just chucked years of work out the window and was now jobless slammed into me.

    God, I hope I’m right about this.

    My sinking heart lifted at the sight of Marla’s face beaming at me through the car window. As usual, her big, brown eyes shone with sweetness. I almost burst into tears. I had missed seeing her lovely face on a regular basis.

    We smiled the same smile at one another, one of the many links that proved we were sisters. We were both earthy women with a generous backside and a thick waist. She was an inch shorter than me, so I was the taller sister at 5'4. I was blonde, she was brunette, but we both wore our hair long.

    Hey, big sister! I called out as I stepped out my little tan sedan.

    Hi Emma! I’m so glad you’re here. She pulled me into a tight hug.

    Marla was a fantastic hugger. Her love slid over me and I breathed deep, knowing I could finally relax.

    She smiled at me as we pulled apart. Do you have a lot of stuff?

    I have a few things, I mentioned as we ran back to my trunk. I had put most of my stuff on a moving truck, which would show up in a couple of weeks.

    We grabbed a couple of my suitcases and dashed into the house as the heavy rain fell in fat drops, drenching both of us.

    The smell of basil, sage, and oregano greeted me as we burst into the house. Marla loved to garden and nurture living things. She was always experimenting and making herbal remedies, which came in handy with her being an esthetician, one of her many jobs.

    Did you have a good trip? she asked as she put down my luggage in the hallway.

    Yes, I can't believe I'm here! I breathed out in a combination of excitement and fear as I shook off the rain.

    Let me show you to your room and you can get settled in. Then, we'll have some lemonade and chat. We climbed up the short set of steps of her tri-level home and she led me to the guest room where I usually stayed.

    We walked in and there was a surprise waiting for me. A beautiful, new comforter adorned the queen-sized bed. A black and white fleur-de-lis pattern graced a fluffy and soft cotton bedspread that would be good for snuggling into on lazy summer mornings. Thoughtful.

    I smiled appreciatively. Ah, Marla, that's a gorgeous comforter. Thank you!

    Just wanted to make you feel welcomed, she said, giving me another hug.

    I teared up, again. Marla was an expert in making me feel loved and appreciated. I was lucky to have her in my life.

    Come down when you're ready, she said softly, patting me on the arm.

    She left me alone to settle in, so I unpacked a little and decompressed, trying to remember change was good.

    Everything felt surreal. My surroundings were familiar, but my life was beginning to unravel in ways I never anticipated.

    I slowly adapted to my new beginning as the fullness of summer fell upon us. I slept in, ate Marla's delicious cooking, and sat around lazily reading romance novels.

    On top of that, I got to hang out with my sister.

    We had a total blast.

    We ran around barefoot, having impromptu water gun fights, soaking up the sunshine, and the glory of summer.

    We tended Marla’s garden and made all kinds of herbal remedies. We watched old eighties movies and acted out our favorite scenes in Dirty Dancing, where we danced our hearts out, lifts and all. Then, we reminisced about growing up and shared good memories of our mom.

    We laughed. A lot.

    It was amazing, magical, and memorable.

    I unwound, taking off the mantel of responsibility and putting on the hat called fun. I breathed deep and let new life take hold of me, rediscovering who I was. A girl who enjoyed being silly, working with my hands, and being close to my family.

    The end of summer came all too soon and I realized I had no desire to return to another teaching job. I took another wild dive into unknown waters as I contemplated my future.

    Marla and I sat on the couch one evening, our faces covered in a mixture of banana, apple, and egg. Marla was a master herbalist, but I had my doubts about that particular concoction.

    According to my sister, the blend would fortify my skin with nutrition, tighten my pores, moisturize my face, and leave me a glowing woman.

    Sitting there in that muck, I didn’t feel so beautiful. Are you sure about this, Marla? I asked as the mixture slid down my skin.

    Absolutely. See? Look. She held a mirror up to my face.

    I studied the strange mask. It looked bizarre, like a banana-apple smoothie exploded on my face.

    Don’t you feel sexy and radiant? she added with a smile.

    We laughed at that ridiculous statement and then banana fell from my face, making us giggle harder.

    Oh, Marla, life with you is never boring.

    Just think, if you leave, you won’t have to deal with any of my experiments.

    About that...

    About what?

    About leaving, I was thinking... I trailed off, trying to decide if I was ready to talk about this.

    Her chocolate gaze turned serious. You gotta tell me now, don’t be a tease. What are you thinking?

    I was thinking I want to stay here and maybe go back to school.

    Her glance burned with curiosity. School? What kind of school?

    Remember when we stayed up late and did each other’s hair?

    Yeah, you did a great job.

    I really enjoyed it. So, I’m thinking about attending cosmetology school.

    Really? Her eyes lit up with excitement.

    Yeah, I think that’s what I want to do.

    Woo-hoo! Marla got up on the couch and started jumping up and down. The mask on her face began flinging in all directions as she celebrated.

    I guess you're excited about that! I offered as banana gunk showered down on me.

    Yes, I am! She sat back down again and threw her arms around me in a huge hug. We giggled again as we realized we were both seriously covered in banana, egg, and apple goo.

    I’m so glad you’re going to stay. I was hoping you would see it that way, she assured me as she picked apple off my shirt.

    Relief flooded through me. So you don’t mind if I stay with you until I get everything situated?

    Not at all. In fact, I insist you stay with me until school is done.

    Okay, I'll make some calls in the morning and get started on becoming Baltimore's most amazing hairstylist, I joked as I fluffed my hair.

    She clapped her hands together. Yay! I think that's a great decision, Emma. Way to be brave, she encouraged as mask continued to slip down her face.

    We were a radiant, glowing mess. We smiled at each other, united in moving forward. I breathed deeply, realizing there was more change headed my way.

    But sitting there in that messy mask that night, I had no idea I was finally on the path that would bring me the life I always wanted.

    Baltimore - 2012

    Casa Oschun. How can I help you? the receptionist asked cheerfully into the phone as I walked by.

    I loved hearing that name spoken aloud. Marla and I had opened our own beauty salon after several years of planning and sacrifice. I remembered when we were searching for the right name for this place.

    We sat in the middle of the renovations on the sub-floor researching names on Marla’s laptop. We wanted something original, something meaningful to us. We had stumbled across the names of goddesses and we found Oschun (pronounced like ocean), a goddess worthy of much. She seemed to epitomize everything we wanted to house in our salon. So we adopted her name, praying her spirit would infuse into our business.

    We opened Casa Oschun on a clear, sunny Saturday in May of 2011. It was a lot of work to put together, but in the end, everything came together and our dream became a reality.

    From the get-go, our salon was a success. Marla had a great base of customers already, and I had a number of people who followed me from my last place.

    All of our employees were gifted and appreciated for their unique contributions. It was a warm, creative place that people flocked to. I loved going to work and it was all the sweeter knowing it was my business.

    The summer of 2011 started the way most of my summers did, warring for the Stanley Cup. I had a deep cut above my left eye. Some asswipe on the California Kings had swiped his stick under my visor, slashing a gash over my left eyebrow. I gritted my teeth as the doc stitched me up and I headed back to the ice. There was no room for being a pussy and sitting out the rest of the game.

    We made it to the semi-finals that year. But we just had too many injuries to go any further. We didn’t have a single player who was one hundred percent healthy, but everyone was one hundred fifty percent heart. Sometimes, the difference between winning and losing was just who the hockey gods shined on, but most times, it was who could withstand the beating and come out on top.

    There wasn’t a guy on my team who wouldn’t have lost one of his nuts to win Lord Stanley's Cup. I had battled and won four trips to the finals and conquered it three times. There was nothing like being part of a team that went through hell and emerged as champions.

    My band of brothers was what kept me grounded; it was the only sense of home I had. So it was a real shock when my team traded me that December.

    No fuckin' loyalty. I gave them my all and they sold me down the river.

    I knew I was getting older, but I was a franchise player. I brought leadership and experience to the locker room. I knew how to win, but they didn't give a shit about that.

    All of a sudden, I was on a plane to Baltimore. I had been in Texas for seventeen years, where there was barbeque, big hair, big tits, and big houses. I loved Texas, but now I was headed to goddamn Maryland.

    What the hell was in a puny little place like Baltimore?

    Do you ever get the feeling something big is going to happen in your life? It may not be something you can put your finger on or define; it’s just a feeling that settles deep within your belly.

    My family had always relied on a keen sixth sense.

    A family legend was birthed when my Grandpa Bob saved his family from Mother Nature's fury.

    For weeks, he had a sense of dread every time it rained. He knew something bad was coming. So he bravely ran around telling everyone in his town to prepare and have extra supplies on hand. But people scoffed and refused to believe his doom and gloom prediction.

    His dread increased and he knew lives were in danger.

    He went to the town council and the mayor, demanding they evacuate the town. Of course, they all laughed in his face and told him he was crazy.

    Despite the town's reaction, Grandpa Bob stuck to his guns and got my Grandma and their kids out of harm's way.

    No one was laughing two weeks later, when a devastating flash flood hit the town and destroyed half of it. If only they had listened.

    Grandpa Bob had been right all along, and as horrible as it was, the flood had validated his gut feeling. He made sure to instill the importance of instinct in us from the time we were little. We knew that story inside and out.

    Since that event, family tradition has dictated that instinct be heeded at all times. When Marla told me to take an umbrella, I did. When I told her to order leggings to sell because eighties fashion was coming back, she didn’t hesitate.

    All of that brings me to a recent intuition forecast. I was eating a sandwich in the backroom of the salon while taking my break when I got this crazy surge of joy. I laughed aloud because I felt so giddy. I wasn’t even thinking of anything in particular, but an overwhelming sense of delight washed over me.

    That unknown event pulsed inside me, building in joyful anticipation. I was on a collision course with fate; destiny was around the corner.

    There was something brewing and I could smell it.

    I was wrong. There was plenty of stuff in Maryland; only I didn’t like any of it. The East Coast was way different than Texas and I had no motivation to put down any roots.

    I was still protesting being traded, so I refused to rent or buy any property. Instead, I stayed in a five star luxury hotel. I had a nice suite. It was cleaned every day and anything I wanted was just a phone call away. Simple and easy. I could walk away anytime I wanted to.

    That thought weighed heavily on my mind as I wrestled with my new circumstances. Nothing felt right and the restlessness I had lived with for years was pressing down so hard on me that I felt like a wildfire was permanently burning in my chest.

    One night in January, I came back to the hotel after a 4-3 loss in overtime.

    The game replayed in my mind repeatedly as my mood soured.

    There was so much wrong with this team.

    It all started with my teammates. Everyone seemed to play for themselves, and that showed in our awful record. I was having a hard time giving my all when I saw such shitty effort given by the other guys.

    There was one exception, though. A guy named Sam Richardson. He was the team captain. He was a real loud mouth, but he was one of the few guys who played with his whole heart.

    He hadn’t left me alone since I’d joined the team. He was always in my face talking about being a team player.

    After that pathetic loss, as I sat at my locker, he’d gone off on me again. Come on, Turner! I know you’re fuckin’ better than this, he ranted, trying to engage me in some kind of verbal combat.

    I gave him an angry sideways glance as I unlaced my skates. I just wanted to leave and get away from this whole sorry-ass show.

    That can’t be all you got, man. This team needs you. Get your shit together! he ordered hotly, his dark eyes blazing with a passion I just didn’t feel anymore.

    I knew he was taunting me, but I refused to react. I would have to care about this team to give a damn about what he was saying. I sat there until he walked away in disgust. I took some satisfaction in making him frustrated.

    However, since I had left the locker room, his words had lodged themselves firmly under my skin and I was pissed. Who the hell did he think he was telling me if I was going to be on a team, I had to be a part of the team?

    What the hell did that even mean?

    I had been a leader of a hockey team for seventeen fucking years and no one was going to tell me what it meant to be on a team. I lived and breathed that shit. Just ‘cause I wasn’t friendly with any of the guys and hadn’t left my blood on the ice didn’t mean I had lost my ability to be a great teammate.

    The truth was, that trade had really taken the piss out of me. How could all that sacrifice and years of winning go down the drain in a matter of minutes? The general manager hadn’t even warned me this was coming down the pipe.

    My agent, Phil, had called me when I was on the golf course, enjoying a brief break with some of the guys.

    Hey, Micah, I’ve got some news for you about your contract negotiations.

    Yeah, what? I asked distractedly as I practiced my putting stroke. These contract talks could go on for weeks. I had been expecting at least a two-year deal.

    You’ve been traded.

    Talk about being sucker punched. Those words blasted through my insides, leaving me blindsided. My putter slipped out of my hand.

    My chest suddenly grew tight and I couldn’t breathe. What? Why? I asked Phil in stunned belief.

    They wanna make a change and go in a different direction, he explained. He always kept a cool head, which was one of the reasons he was my agent.

    I, however, wasn’t always known for my cool disposition. I knew what a new direction meant; management wanted to free up money for young blood. I was the old guy now. When had that happened?

    Well, FUCK a different direction! I bellowed into the phone. Outrage flooded my body as I paced around the putting green. Where am I going? I finally managed to ask against the roar in my ears.

    You’re being traded to the Baltimore Gators.

    I blinked hard, still trying to comprehend the bad news that my life in Texas was over.

    That’s bullshit, man! I’m a franchise player. How could this happen? I seethed into the phone, not really wanting an answer.

    Fuckin' dickwads. Goddamn management. How was I gonna tell my guys?

    It’s business, Micah. You’ve seen this before with other players.

    Yeah, but it wasn’t me.

    Well, now it’s you and you gotta deal with it, man.

    I felt like someone had run up and shoved a knife in my heart. Yeah.

    Look, you’re still a great player and I’ll make sure those fuckers pay through the nose for you.

    I could always count on him to get me what I deserved.

    Yeah, you better.

    All right, man. I’ll let you know.

    Anger surged through me again as I hung up. I paced for a minute, too stunned to speak. I didn't like change. It sucked. But, I also knew the bitter realities of the business. That still didn't stop me from chucking my cell phone into the pond as a final fuck you.

    Yeah, it still hurt.

    My agent had come through for me and I had a nice, juicy contract with the Gators. But I was having a hard time playing the game like I used to.

    Back in my hotel room, more restlessness surged through my veins, making me want to scream. I paced around my suite for awhile until I felt the walls clawing at me.

    I needed to get out of there.

    I grabbed my coat and headed to the lobby. Strolling through the city had become my new therapy. It cleared my mind and gave me something to do. Walking seemed to be the only thing that calmed me down, and I was desperate for some relief.

    Sometimes, I wound up at a bar; other times, I people watched. The one thing I liked about Baltimore was I was completely anonymous; no one knew me, unlike Texas, where I was bombarded almost every time I went out.

    I liked being left alone. It gave me time to think and make some decisions.

    Hockey was sacred to me. It wasn’t fair to play with a half a heart. It dishonored the game and I didn’t want piss-poor play to be the legacy I left behind. I'd had a good run and accomplished everything I had set out to do.

    Maybe it was time to hang up my skates. The only problem was, what the hell was I going to do? Hockey was all I had known. It had been my salvation growing up. Hard to give up something that had brought me everything I had ever wanted.

    Was this my last season? That wasn’t a reality I wanted to entertain.

    I contemplated life without hockey as I bought a coffee. I wandered down a row of shops, as I usually did, when I saw something amazing.

    A woman.

    Now, I’d seen lots of women in my life, but there was something captivating about her that stopped me in my tracks. She had a glow about her that instantly moved me. She appeared soft and lovely, like I could curl up in her arms and all of my restlessness would disappear.

    At first, I scoffed and tried to throw off my immediate attraction to her. I’d dated and fucked a ton of women who were in a ten category. Ordinary didn’t normally do it for me, and this was as normal as you could get, except for those saucy hips.

    She moved them rhythmically against the catchy pop music I faintly made out. Those beautiful hips curved hotly as they flared out from side to side. She turned around then and I sucked in my breath. What a fuckin' awesome ass.

    Plump.

    Heart-shaped.

    Mouthwatering.

    I stared in wonder as she danced to the music. She seemed so happy, like everything in her life made sense. I was rooted to the spot, watching her and craving her softness as she swept the floor and sang to herself.

    Walk away, Turner.

    Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

    Like a moth to a flame, I found myself at the door of the shop, eating her up with my hungry gaze.

    It had been a long time since I had approached a woman. They had always come to me. I just couldn't resist, though. I was compelled to meet her. Somehow, a surge of bravery found its way to my besotted brain.

    That’s it. I’m going in, I proclaimed to myself, letting my courage lead the way.

    I opened the door and realized I was in the lobby of the salon, watching that magnificent creature and wondering what to do next.

    Girl, don’t you stay here all night! my assistant Sunny affectionately chastised me as she walked toward the door.

    My staff knew me all too well.

    I won’t. I promise, Scout's honor. I put up three fingers in mock-seriousness.

    She wagged her finger at me and smiled. Don't get sassy with me; just get home at a decent hour.

    Will do. Goodnight, Sunny.

    I'd sent everyone home early. It was nice to give my employees a little get-off-early present every once in awhile. Besides, I liked being in the shop alone sometimes.

    The stillness called to me.

    It gave me time to think about and review my day, which reminded me of a conversation I had with Marla earlier that afternoon.

    Are you happy? she asked me in the midst of a discussion we were having about the supplies we needed to order.

    What? I asked in confusion.

    Are you happy, sweetheart?

    Yeah, I supplied, even as a little no tugged at my heart.

    You sure? she asked and I knew she wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

    Marla had this ability to cut through my defenses and excuses in a heartbeat. It always made my real feelings surface, no matter how much I wanted to hide them.

    I cleared my throat. Yeah, I’m sure. I knew there was a little hitch in my response as I started to really think about what she was asking.

    The shop’s doing great and you’ve got a cute little house, but what about love? Her gaze radiated an authentic care that was hard to resist.

    I shrugged and bit my lip in response.

    You haven’t dated in a year. You spend most of your time here. When are you going to get out there?

    I don’t know…

    It was hard to explain to Marla what I wanted wasn’t just waiting for me in a bar or an online dating site. I hadn’t dated much in my life. I was usually too wrapped up in my career to concentrate on love.

    But that didn't mean I didn't have a desire to be with someone. It was the absolute desire of my heart. I just always believed when a relationship was supposed to happen in my life, it would happen.

    Was that so wrong?

    Marla ran her hand lovingly through my long hair. You have so much to offer, honey. I know you've got a whole lot of love to share. Tell you what, I'm just gonna pray that the right man comes into your life, all right?

    I sighed wishfully. Sounds good. I could use all the prayer I can get.

    She smiled sweetly and let me off the hook. We moved on, returning to our discussion about the hair dye we needed to buy.

    The rest of the day had sped by and I hadn't gotten a chance to think about her sisterly advice. But as I looked around the salon, her words echoed through my mind. She was right. I needed to put myself out there and invite love into my life.

    I took a second and sent out love vibes to the universe. I asked for a man who would appreciate me for being me and be a champion in his own life.

    Then I let it go and remembered the joyous feelings I'd experienced earlier. Those emotions returned tenfold and a warm glow rushed through me.

    Maybe my prayer was being answered after all.

    In the meantime, I had a salon to run. At that moment, it needed to be cleaned up so I would be free to go out and attract a good man. An image of me holding out a huge magnet and dragging the perfect man to my side filled my head. If only it were that easy. I would have the right guy in no time.

    I chuckled to myself and got to work.

    I picked up my shears, and put them back in their case. Maybe I could call my friend Jenna and see if she

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