Dawn's Big Black Adventure: The Pick-Up: Dawn's Big Black Adventure, #1

By Clea Kinderton

Big, beautiful Dawn has no idea that she's about to go on the ride of her life when her car breaks down on the wrong side of town. Dawn's always been a good girl, careful not to offend and putting everyone else first, so when the two hot, buff black men that come to give her a tow are suddenly eager to satisfy her every desire -- including a few that she didn't even know that she had -- what's a lonely white woman to do?

This 13,000 word (40+ page) erotic BBW / BBC mfm interracial threesome about a curvy white girl and her two black bulls contains very explicit language and a completely different spin on 'double parking'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Lamp Press
• Release date: Jun 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533787552

Clea Kinderton

I've always had a wild imagination. I love fat fantasy novels, B movies, comic books, and scifi. But I also love romance and sex and you'll find plenty of both along with heaps of humor, mystery, and suspense jampacked into some of the hottest, hardest, kinkiest stories you may ever read. Strap yourself in, it's going to be a wild ride. I'm always interested in hearing what you have to say and welcome suggestions. You can contact me at [e-mail] and follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CleaKinderton/ and Twitter: https://twitter.com/CleaKinderton.

Book preview

Dawn's Big Black Adventure: The Pick-Up

Dawn's Big Black Adventure, Volume 1

Clea Kinderton

Published by Red Lamp Press, 2016.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

DAWN'S BIG BLACK ADVENTURE: THE PICK-UP

First edition. June 22, 2016.

Copyright © 2016 Clea Kinderton.

ISBN: 978-1533787552

Written by Clea Kinderton.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dawn's Big Black Adventure: The Pick-Up

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Further Reading: Big Business, Beautiful Curves (BBW Billionaire Erotic Romance)

Also By Clea Kinderton

About the Author

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Dawn’s car rolled to a stop, the engine light blinking. She stared at the dashboard, her hands still gripping the wheel, and listened apprehensively as the engine rasped, rattled, and then finally fell silent.

The light had started blinking a few minutes ago, but she hadn’t wanted to pull over. She was lost, in an unfamiliar and rough-looking part of town, and hadn’t felt safe. But now she was stuck.

She looked out the windows. It was early evening, and the sun had started its descent toward the horizon. Rundown row houses — many with doors and windows boarded over by the city — fenced in both sides of the narrow street. She’d taken the wrong exit ramp off the expressway and somehow had gotten turned around when she’d tried to find her way back on.

She didn’t like the look of the neighborhood. The only other car she could see had been completely stripped, and there was a shopping cart full of suspicious-looking grocery bags sitting halfway over the curb two parking spots down from her. There was a group of young black men standing on a corner nearby, smoking and watching her car with curiosity, and while she didn’t approve of stereotyping people based on the color of their skin, or the way that they dressed, they looked a lot like gang members to her.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Dawn checked her phone for the fifth time. There had still been a flicker of power about half an hour ago, but it was completely dead now. She’d forgotten the USB cord for her phone at home and she’d been in meetings all day and hadn’t had a chance to find someone with a cord she could borrow to recharge it. She would have called someone as soon as she saw the engine light come on, but by then her phone was already dead.

Dawn just had the worst luck.

She turned off the stereo, which was playing We Belong Together, one of her favorite Mariah Carey songs, and looked back out the window at her surroundings. There was graffiti on most of the walls, and on the boards over the doors and windows, and there was litter on most of the lawns. She heard rap music playing somewhere in the background, and, somewhere, a woman yelling angrily at someone else. A dog started barking and then abruptly stopped.

She chanced another look at the young men standing in the street and accidentally made eye contact with one of them. He stared back expressionlessly and she looked away. She knew she’d have to get out and find a phone but she was afraid to leave the car. She didn’t know the first thing about fixing engine problems, so there was no point popping the hood. The funny thing was, she’d had a feeling something bad was going to happen today. She’d even made a point of emptying the trunk and moving the workbooks she usually stowed there into the back seat to make room for a spare tire.

Dawn looked around a third time, glancing at the men anxiously.

Stop being so racist, she told herself. They probably won’t give you any trouble. They’re just kids. Would you avoid approaching a group of white kids? One of them might even let you borrow his phone.

For some reason, though she knew her reasoning was sound, she didn’t find it convincing.

She put her purse in the footwell on the passenger side and draped her jacket over it. She didn’t know why she’d bothered; if anyone wanted to steal it, it’s not like they wouldn’t know where to look. Dawn checked her makeup in the mirror — out of habit more than anything — and winced.