From the #1 Amazon Best-Selling Anthology.
She is a lonely spinster prepared to bid her dreams of passion farewell. He is a war-weary soldier who seeks shelter in a woman’s desire. They strike a bargain to fulfill each others most erotic fantasies….only to discover that passion is as life-altering as the storm that brings them together.
Praise for A Lady’s Pleasure
“The sex here becomes intimate, emotional and fulfilling.” ~The Romance Reader
“Robin Schone uses no purple prose and no silly euphemisms, but instead allows humor, affection and caring to permeate the story. The sex here becomes intimate, emotional and fulfilling … “A Lady’s Pleasure” is truly erotic and breathtakingly sensual.” ~The Romance Reader
“The giving and taking of love heals all wounds in Robin Schone’s “A Lady’s Pleasure”.” ~RT Book Reviews
“A spinster who reads erotica has an unexpected meeting with a wounded military man, which allows her to explore her most secret desires. As the storm rages outside a small cottage, a passion blazes within and they find that the giving and taking of love heals all wounds in Robin Schone’s “A Lady’s Pleasure”.” ~RT Book Reviews TopPick
“Schone can write erotic scenes that involve character’s souls as well as their genitals.” ~All About Romance
“[Robin Schone] shuns purple prose. Robert and Abigail do not see each other as two sets of sex organs to be joined. Their sexual encounters involve large measures of tenderness and caring and their union results in the healing of two wounded hearts…Schone can write erotic scenes that involve character’s souls as well as their genitals.” ~All About Romance
A Lady’s Pleasure Excerpt
“I fantasize about what it is like to kiss. Not the small peck that I give and receive from my family and friends. But a real kiss … like they do in my books. With their … tongues.” Before she could lose her courage, Abigal blurted, “Do men and women really kiss that way, Colonel Coally?”
“Sometimes. What else do you fantasize about, Miss Abigail?”
Abigail transferred the journal to her left hand and scooted sideways across the mattress so that her back rested against the iron headboard. The sole of her right foot brushed against wool—and a muscular leg.
Heat shot up her calf.
She curled her foot underneath her skirt. “I … fantasize about what a man looks like. I mean … I have little nephews and I … have changed their nappies. They are … not really very impressive. Yet in the books they describe a man as being … much larger. There. Are men as large in real life as they are in books?”
It could have been the intake of his breath that she heard. Or perhaps it was hers. Because suddenly she realized exactly what it was that she had grabbed in the darkness, all silky sinew with pulsing veins.
And yes, it had been very large indeed.
“Some men are large, some men are small.” The voice in the dark deepened. “Just as some women have large breasts, and some have small. Is it important to you?”
“Yes,” she said softly, wondering what or even if he had thought about her breasts during that fleeting touch, wondering how large were his measurements, wondering if all men were his size. Then she laughed self-consciously, embarrassed yet strangely exhilarated at discussing a man’s anatomy. “I mean—I suppose it would not matter as long as a man can give a woman satisfaction. Is it possible, Colonel Coally? Can a man give a woman satisfaction?”
“Do you doubt it, Miss Abigail?”
“Oh, yes, Colonel Coally. Every time I look at one of my pomaded, bewhiskered brothers-in-law I doubt it. I try to imagine them kissing with their tongue or—or touching a woman’s breast or—or kissing a woman between her legs, and, quite frankly, I cannot. I cannot imagine them doing any of the things I read about. I cannot even imagine them begetting their own children. They have fat bottoms, Colonel Coally. I simply cannot imagine those fat bottoms pistoning up and down.”