I recently saw a photograph with the saying: “create what you wish existed”. I
took that saying to heart in bringing She Part 1 & 2 to life. Within them, I wanted
to write about a couple where everything goes right — no roadblocks, no drama-
for-dramas-sake, no bullshit — just simplicity. Why, you might ask? Because I
want to show that it’s possible. I want that passionate, playful, all-consuming,
heart-wrenching love to exist, so I created it in these books and in these
characters.
I’d like to live in a world where everyone knows that they are worthy and
deserving of this type of romance: the game-changing, breathtaking, smile-
inducing romance. And that everyone can experience this type of pleasure: the
erotic, earth-shatteringly-good, yet grounded in equality and respect type of
pleasure. That’s why I wrote this story.
I’ve loved every single minute that I’ve been immersed in their world, and I hope
you are able to experience as much fun and laughter while reading it, as I did
writing it. Send me an email or a message with your thoughts or questions. I’d be
happy to hear from you.
Big love, Annabel x
Blurb:
LOVE and SEX at once is a powerful combination. LOVE and SEX in Paris is better.
Dive in to Annabel Fanning’s stunning follow up to the bestselling She Part 1. In
this sequel Annabel continues to effortlessly marry several genres. From laugh-
out-loud comedy to steaming erotica to heart pounding romance, She Part 2 has
it all.
Picking up where Part 1 left off, Gemima and Logan escape Paris for the weekend
to indulge in all manner of pleasurable things on the French Riviera. Relaxation,
sightseeing and sex — it’s a perfect combination!
Once back in Paris, life hands out a few surprises, from troublesome ex-
boyfriends, to changes at work, to a heartwarming best friends confession. But
the lead up to Logan’s birthday brings one event that Gemima must conquer (and
try her best not to say anything inappropriate which, you know, is hard for her!)
She must meet Logan’s parents, and his bastard of a brother…
Taking place over thirteen electric days, She Part 2 continues to explore love, sex
and a relationship unlike any other you’ve ever read.
“We’ve been vulnerable right from the very start. Completely open, completely
honest. No red tape, no bullshit, no drama. Just real.” For readers 18+ over only.
Contains very explicit sexual content, and an ending that will make you smile.
Goodreads
Buy links:
Amazon Kindle § B&N Nook § iBooks § Smashwords §
Join Annabel for a Facebook Party on October 1st and October 2nd!
https://www.facebook.com/events/1177348185612782/
Giveaway:
$100 Gift Card
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About the Author:
Annabel Fanning began writing songs as a child, the most memorable of which
was entitled: “Tropical Night in Switzerland”. Throughout her teens, songwriting
was the most rebellious form of expression that she was willing to partake in (no
tattoos, drugs, or biker boys), and her love for storytelling developed. There was
just one problem: music wasn’t her passion. A month before her 20th birthday
whilst sitting under the Californian sun a few deck chairs down from Robert
Pattinson, inspiration struck, and Annabel began writing her first novel. The years
passed and now at 26, Annabel has written a handful of novels, which she plans
on releasing throughout 2015/16.
Website § Twitter § Facebook § Goodreads
Excerpt:
The bar is noisy, dark, and bustling with Friday night activity. A large crowd of
people stands between me, in the doorway, and the bar itself — my destination.
I’m motionless on my sky-high heels, observing the scene. Then I sway a little
unsteadily, no doubt due to the copious amount of wine that I drank at dinner. I
flatten my dress, straighten my posture, lift my head high and demand my usual
composure to resume. OK, so composure might be too strong a word to describe
my usual state. But tonight I’m not myself; I am, quite literally, being someone
else. Don’t fuck this up, I tell myself, as nerves unexpectedly take ahold of me. It
doesn’t help that I’ve never played the type of game that I’m about to play… Just
do it how they do it in the movies.
I peer through the mass of people and spot him, sitting alone at the far end of the
bar, waiting. Then I start walking, parting the crowded room as I go, batting my
eyelashes at those I pass, smiling cordially, getting myself into the appropriate
mindset for the game ahead.
It feels good in here; the other visitors are lively, and upbeat, and happy. On the
other side of the crowd the room seems somehow quieter. I can hear the music
playing from speakers above (an old-fashioned jazz tune), and for a few moments
my attention is taken by the splendour of the decor. It is to die for: art-deco
everything, just as advertised. I observe the bay windows, beyond which the dark
night conceals the view of the ocean that I’ve waited years to see. Tomorrow, I
think. Right now I have another, more urgent thing to attend to.
My eyes fix on the man sitting alone at the bar. My target, my game plan, my kill
of the night. My stomach jolts. Jeez, he’s gorgeous, and he’s dressed in
accordance with the style of the room: smart black suit pants contain his long
legs, a crisp white shirt accentuates his taut, muscular torso, black suspenders hug
his body in a way that I’m envious of, and a light pink bow tie sits under his
stubbled neck and jaw and just so happens to match the colour of my dress.
Perfect. His medium-blonde hair is slicked back, completing the look. He is
breathtaking, a flawless mix of classically handsome and modernly sexy.
He looks up at me for the briefest of moments, then looks away, and then does a
double take. I’ve captured his attention. Good, I think. Very good! He looks me up
and down, openly, brazenly, and my nerves make themselves known once more.
Cool it, Gem, I warn myself. You can do this, I give myself a pep talk. Just don’t
break character first.
The man’s engaging pale-green eyes are alight as he surveys me; I can see within
them the same desire that I feel within myself. Good, I think again. We’re both
here for the same reason — to pick up.
My nerves somewhat calmed, I continue walking until I’m two seats away from
him and I pull out a barstool. His eyes widen slightly. Hmm, did he think I was
going to sit next to him? Did he think I was going to make it that easy? I smile to
myself, tearing my eyes away from his beautiful face. Instead I sit, and turn my
attention towards the barman.
“Votre spécial pour la soirée, s’il vous plaît,” I smile. Your special for the evening,
please.
He nods and goes about getting my drink. On my left I can feel the man’s eyes on
me, he’s piercing me with his gaze, so much so that I’m drawn, like a moth to a
flame, to look at him. When I do he smiles at me, dimples becoming pronounced
in his chiseled cheeks, and I feel a current of carnal longing head straight for my
groin. Him…and I…oh, this is going to be a good night!
He leans forward across the vacant seat between us, to ask me, “Would you like
to play a game?”
I can’t help but smile back. I thought we already were, I say in my mind. Out loud,
I answer with a nonchalant shrug, “Sure.”
His smile broadens slightly, drawing my eyes to look at his full, pink lips. “Say I like
cops without your lips touching.”
Immediately I do as he asks, but my words come out as I like cocks rather than
cops, causing both of us to burst into immature giggles. I roll my eyes at him.
The ice broken, the man points to the empty seat between us. “May I?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say again, this time a little more warmly.
He moves over to sit next to me and a sudden, exciting, electrical charge begins to
build between us. It’s potent right from the off, and makes my heart hammer in
my chest. We look at each other, both of us feeling it, both of us instinctively
knowing where our night is headed.
“What’s your name?” he wants to know.
“Let’s not,” I say immediately, shaking my head. “Let’s keep that a mystery,” I
request.
He nods his agreement, a smile playing on the edge of his lips. Then the bartender
delivers my drink, and my late-night rendezvous raises his own glass up to toast
mine.
“Cheers,” I say as seductively as I can.
We both take a drink, never taking our eyes off of one another. The charge keeps
building. It’s hot and steamy inside this bubble we’re in.
“Miss. No-Name, you look phenomenal,” the stranger coos, his voice full of allure,
the tips of his fingers teasing my knee.
I shift out of his reach. I can tease him too, I think slyly. “Thank you,” I grin at him.
“Do you like my dress? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” My knee-length, light-pink dress
with intricate black-bead detailing might just be the most special garment I’ve
ever had the pleasure of wearing. It fits over my five-foot-seven, svelte hour-glass
frame in a confidence-boosting manner.
“Very,” he compliments. “Much like its inhabitant,” he says.
I ignore his latter comment. “My boyfriend bought it for me,” I tell him, proudly.
“Your—your boyfriend?” he stammers, looking surprised. “Where is he tonight?”
he asks, looking around the crowded room.
“Upstairs. In our room,” I explain quickly. “He’s…working,” I lie. “We just had a
late dinner, during which he partially pleasured me under the table,” I overshare.
Seriously, Gem, is that how you speak to a stranger? Move right along, I order
myself. “Now he’s working.”
“Only partially?” the stranger seems perturbed. The look in his eyes tells me that
he’d like nothing more than to remedy my situation. “I don’t like the sound of
your boyfriend. No wonder you’re down here, prowling,” he says, his eyes
gleaming.
My heart hammers even harder in my chest. “I wasn’t going to let a good night go
to waste,” I shrug, attempting to be nonchalant once more.
“Just as well,” he smiles at me; a smile that I feel all over my body. He sucks on his
bottom lip in that unconscious way he does… Shit! I shake my head. You don’t
know this man, I remind myself.
Refocussing myself, I ask, “And you, stranger? Are you here with someone?”
“No,” he shakes his head quickly. “I’m here alone.” He lifts his glass to take
another swig. I smell that he’s drinking whiskey, straight, and I revel in knowing
that I’ll taste it on his tongue soon. Very soon.
I can’t keep a smile from forming on my lips. “I was hoping that might be the
case,” I confess. Then, bravely, I lean in and press my lips against his for a brief
moment before forcing his mouth open with my tongue and brushing it against
his. Mmm, he tastes delicious. Our eyes are open and locked on each other the
whole time. I brush my tongue slowly against his again, smiling at the same time,
before I pull back and suck on my own bottom lip, whispering, “I like whiskey.”
His face lights up. Oh, this is so much fun!
Also Available from Annabel Fanning
Kindle * Kindle UK * Nook * iBooks * Kobo * Google Play * All Romance 
Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than forty novels. For over fifteen years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold well over a million copies and been published in a dozen languages.
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