From Buzzfeed to Babble to Scary Mommy and even network television—the most anticipated social media viral sensation is LIVE!
The story of romance writer Amy Daws’ relationship with a little tire shop in South Dakota is a refreshingly fun tale that ends in an auto shop romantic comedy that you have to read!
Daws' fans have loved watching this story trend, but more importantly, they are loving this 5-star read about a couple who meet outside of a tire shop...
When romance novelist, Kate Smith, finds her long lost writing mojo in the customer waiting area of a tire store, the complimentary coffee isn’t the only things that’s hot. But sexy mechanic, Miles Hudson, is just up for a friendly test-drive of her new book idea.
At least, that was the agreement...
At least, that was the agreement...
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Amazon US ⎢Amazon UK ⎢ Amazon CA ⎢ Amazon AU
It all began when Daws went to Tires Tires Tires to get a new set of wheels on her car. She was suffering from writer’s block, but apparently the complimentary coffee and cookies cured her. So she decided to bring in cars of friends and family so she could keep writing in the magical waiting room.Her social media musings had her fans in stitches and it wasn't long before inspiration struck again. This time...Daws was to write a sexy romantic comedy about a romance novelist who sneaks into a tire shop and gets caught by a hot mechanic. You can imagine where the love story goes from here.
Eventually, the little tire shop opened their arms to Daws, even putting her release date on their marquee sign outside.
It wasn't long before Buzzfeed got wind of it. Then Scary Mommy. Then InspireMore and several other blogs with followers well into the millions. WGN News in Chicago, Fox 10 in Phoenix and Canada Public Radio are all talking about the adorable feel good story of how inspiration can strike in the strangest of places.
She slaps her hand on her knee and bellows gallantly, “But you know what, Miles, you’re right! I should totally find a random hookup tonight.”
“Whoa, I never said anything about random.”
“Well, you’re doing it, so why can’t I?”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t seem like the random type.”
“Maybe I should be.” Her eyes narrow when she leans in and whispers against my lips. “Can I tell you a secret, Miles?”
“You can tell me anything, Mercedes.”
She giggles and crooks her finger for me to lean in even closer. I’m so close I can smell the faint scent of her cherry lip gloss, and it’s not helping the half boner having a party in my pants.
Her lips graze my ear when she whispers, “My writing makes me horny.”
I nearly choke on my beer. “I’m sorry, what?”
“My writing makes me horny.” She pulls back and nods her confirmation. “I’m serious. I have a sex toy that works really well and really fast, but I miss the heat of a man, ya know?”
My eyes scrunch together, and I rub my fingers in the sockets to make sure I’m awake and hearing this all correctly. “I mean…I don’t really ever miss the heat of man, so I don’t think I know exactly what you’re saying.”
“Fine, the heat of a woman.” She rolls her eyes dramatically “You know what I’m talking about. The heat.”
I frown and shake my head. “You’re going to have to elaborate because I think of a lot of things when I think of women, but their body temperature isn’t one of them.”
“You asked for it.” She laughs and leans in so she’s speaking low and soft and directly into my ear. “The heat of a woman is so much more than temperature. It’s the soft, sensual curves of the female form. The way your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs when she’s wrapped around you. Her smooth, sunken tummy when she’s on her back, the delicate bumps of her ribcage when she’s throwing her head back in pleasure. Tight little nipples in pillows of creamy softness. The fact that you could fold yourself around her and envelop her body almost entirely and still want more. You’re saying you don’t miss that kind of heat?”
I blink slowly, recovering from what just happened. Her voice was a sensual, verbal caress straight on my cock. Then there was the warm heat of her breath on my ear. The deep husk of her tone. The way her warm palm rests softly on my thigh.
Fucking hell.
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