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A Heart's Attraction
A Heart's Attraction
A Heart's Attraction
Ebook59 pages53 minutes

A Heart's Attraction

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Mariah Kenna didn't realize how lonely she was until she met hunky Irishman Breccan Walsh. The problem was she met him at a ceremony honoring her dead husband, and Breccan just so happened to be the recipient of her husband's heart.

Mariah isn't sure she's ready for love, but ready or not, here's a man with a heart of gold, someone her husband would admire a great deal, and she can't help but feel herself falling for him. Will her secret be their undoing? Or will Breccan's feelings for her live on no matter what?

(This BWWM romance is for adult audiences 18+ only)

Tags: African american romance, interracial romance, bwwm romance, black woman white man, short story romance, short stories

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 9, 2017
ISBN9781370121236
A Heart's Attraction

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    Book preview

    A Heart's Attraction - Nina Hall

    A Heart’s Attraction

    by Nina Hall

    Copyright ©2015 Nina Hall. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

    WARNING: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only.

    Chapter One

    Mariah, sweetie, it's been two years already, my mother said, stroking my hand from across the table.

    Her dark brown eyes held so much pain for me, her only daughter. Deep down, I knew she only wanted me to find happiness, but pushing me into a blind date with the nephew of one of her scrapbooking friends was not the way to go about it.

    You mean, it's only been two years, I said, biting my tongue. I could have said so much more, but again, I knew this woman had my best interest at heart. But God, it feels like an eternity sometimes.

    Because you're lonely, sweetheart, she said.

    She took a long sip of her coffee and smiled at me. I usually loved our Sunday morning coffee dates, and today was no different. But each and every week that passed us by meant that my mom pushed and pushed even harder.

    How's dad? I asked, changing the subject. I focused my attention on my non-fat caramel latte, downing it like it was wine instead of coffee. If only...

    The expression my mother gave me told me she was on to my little game, but thankfully, she didn't push the issue too much.

    He's fine. Retirement is treating him well. Not so much me, of course. He's driving me crazy with wanting to do so much. Last week, he wanted to go sailing. Sailing! You know how much I hate the water.

    At least you're able to grow old with the person you love, I thought to myself.

    Oh yeah? Well maybe it's about time you stepped outside of your comfort zone, I said. I mean, you can only scrapbook and quilt for so many hours a day.

    I told him I'd compromise, she said, her eyes crinkling up as she smiled. He could go sailing, and I'd sit on the beach and wait for him to come back. I'd rather have both feet firmly on dry land, thank you very much.

    Compromise is good, I said.

    Sometimes it felt like I was the mother giving relationship advice, and in a way, our roles were very much reversed. My father may have been retired, but he and my mother were still spry and active. They were in their golden years, living the life everyone always dreams of. Neither one even thought about death or what it would be like to lose one another.

    And until two years ago, I was in the same blissful and ignorant state. My husband, Julian, was also spry, and unlike my parents, he was also young. High school sweethearts that went on to get married as soon as we'd both finished with college, our life couldn't have been more perfect. The baby names were picked out, I'd stopped taking birth control, and we were this close to starting our own family when tragedy struck.

    You sound like you're talking to one of your clients now, sweetie, mother said, shaking her head. A strand of dark, curly hair fell from the head wrap she used to disguise her gray hair.

    People often said I looked just like a younger version of my mother. Her dark, but golden eyes were the same ones that stared back at me when I glanced in the mirror – only with a few added wrinkles. Laugh lines around her lips reminded me that my mom was always smiling, another trait that I had acquired. That is, until the love of my life had been tragically stolen from me.

    Sorry, mom, I said, offering her a small smile in return. I've just had a lot on my mind these days. Sometimes I just go into autopilot with everyone.

    Well then, why don't we turn the tables, dear? Talk to me instead of listening to me ramble on and on about your dad's latest adventures.

    With a long sigh, I studied the Starbucks logo on the side of my cup, tracing it with my finger. Truth be told, I hadn't talked to anyone about this. And I knew that eventually I'd have to. I mean, she was my mother after all.

    "Do you remember after Julian died, when they asked me

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