The Virgin Diaries: A Sweet Secret Is Hiding Behind Her Innocence.

By Bella Gardner

In The Virgin Diaries we meet Carlie, a young woman who knows perfectly well what she wants. After the young surfer literally bumps into Heath while riding the perfect wave in her beloved ocean, her fascination with the ruggedly handsome stranger grows more and more passionate. For a steamy adventure on the beach she even secretly climbs out of the bedroom window, while her parents sleep next door. Intrigued by Heath’s freakishly beautiful eyes, Carlie is ready to surrender completely. But will she get last minute nerves and tell him that she is a virgin after all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483553900

Book preview

9781483553900

My name is Carlie Stevens. Well, that’s not my real name. Obviously! Obviously, I am not going to tell you my real name. I am 21, in two weeks. It’s my 21st birthday in fourteen days. My parents think that I am a virgin. Holy crap, if only they knew! It’s not like they are totally strict about the whole ‘no sex before marriage’ thing, but they are what you would call ‘conservative’. I guess, they believe that you have to be in a steady relationship for a long time before you sleep together. And seeing that I have never had a long term boyfriend they assume that I haven’t done it yet. I am sure that they don’t know that I have had sex, and not just once, even though I have never brought a boyfriend home.

I live with my parents again. After finishing university I moved back home. At least for the summer I will stay here. Our property used to be part of a farm. It’s just outside a fairly big town. Close to the state border, by the sea. The beach is a five minute bike ride away from our house. The building is old and crumbly. You could say it has charm. There are more than four acres of gardens around it. Well, grass, bushes, some flowers and lots of big old trees. It’s pretty. We live on a hill in between rolling fields. And, if I stand up on my tip toes on the back patio, I can see the ocean. That’s good enough for me.

That is where it all began, by the way, the ocean. I had just turned seventeen, and was about to finish Grade 11. Two weeks before the summer holidays started, this guy showed up at my beach, on a Saturday, at 7 o’clock in the morning. I was walking back to where I had left my bike. The board under my arm, I was climbing up over the sand dune, squinting in the bright morning light. There he sat, on the bonnet of his bright red panel van. Three boards strapped to the roof racks. He didn’t look at me, not even for a second. He was looking at the surf. I did look at him though. He was tall and lean, and muscly, very muscly. His hair was unkempt. Wild brown curls with random blonde streaks played around his expressionless face. His eyes were green or blue. I couldn’t be quite sure, apart from that their colour was somehow similar to the ocean that he was staring at so intently.

I had kept walking, climbed on my bike, board under my arm and ridden home. A weird feeling kept itching me all day, and as if I was dragged by some invisible force, I found myself riding towards the beach again by late afternoon. I stopped just inside the tree line of the fruit grove, before the road opened onto a big meadow full of wild flowers. Amongst the scrubs and bushes above the beach, I could make out the red of the panel van. My eyes wandered over to the water. The swell was amazing. According to the forecast, there was a bit of a storm brewing off the coast further