- Title: Bittersweet Symphony
- Series: Tales from the Coffin #3
- Author: JoAnne Kenrick
- Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Thriller, Horror, Erotica
- Publisher: Decadent Publishing
- Words: 5K est.
The Bone Cruncher hasn’t visited in a while, and Estella thinks it’s something she did. Misery loves company, but she loves food more. Putting on a smile, she musters up an erotic story. But can she make it to the end of the tale without comfort eating?
To onlookers, Seren lived the high life in London with her orchestra conductor of a husband. She had a major case of unrequited love for her best friend, though, so their relationship was doomed from the beginning. Divorce papers served, it’s time for her to go back to her hometown on the England-Wales border and face the music.
Owen, now a postman of their little market town, is thrilled to see Seren when he shows up at her doorstep with mail. It’s not long before they’re releasing their pent up lust and love for each other. Within that mail, though, are letters addressed to Seren’s parents. They’re from her ex and hold a truth Seren is too fearful to face. Even with Owen by her side.
I’ve can definitely say I have NOT read my fair share of erotica. It’s a genre I enjoy, I mean who doesn’t but it’s just not something I find myself picking up often. Fortunately I decided to read this during Dewey’s 24 hour read a thon. Perfect book to read because it’s short, fun, and a bit twisted.
Actually I forgot that this was a Tales From the Coffin when I started reading. It was a little gory but not too bad for anyone squeamish. I’m a poor judge because I am really not squeamish at all but there was very little of any kind of blood, it was the end that I really enjoyed and that set this off from a normal erotica for me.
The characters were fine, fun, sexy and each had their story. And the plot was not JUST porn, which honestly I really don’t like. There was something that kept you wondering if things were going to go good for these lovers or maybe not so much. But again, the ending was hands down, perfect!
The doorbell chimed.
Kitted out in her mother’s quilted pink dressing gown, Seren slipped her feet into fuzzy slippers—pink and oh so warm—and slumped her way to the front door of her family home.
She eased it open, hoping it was her parents loaded with luggage and tales of adventures from an impromptu holiday they’d taken to Mykonos or the Maldives. Yes, that had to be it, she convinced herself. They were impulsive when it came to travel, and rarely did they include her in such details until their return. Never mind that they would think the place empty, and that they would have a key. She still hoped it would be them.
“I didn’t expect to you to be here, Seren. Helô cariad.”
No. It couldn’t be. No one but Owen spoke Welsh to her. It meant “hello love.” A rush of childhood memories flooded her, and a sense of homecoming she’d been searching for caressed her and squeezed at her heart. His familiar face felt like a warm caress on the bitter winter morning.
He’d built himself out since the last time she’d seen him at the town social five years earlier. Whenever she’d visited home, she always made it quick and avoided town and his usual hangouts. Mainly because it saved having to explain to Andrew that he was just a friend. She had become sick of trying to prove that point to her husband.
Wearing a navy blue postal uniform, he emanated compassion and tenderness through every crinkle in his face. Mouth tilted into a smile, wooly hat pulled down, and scarf wrapped high up to the man’s chin, she’d know those bright silver eyes peeking through the fringe of his hair any day.
“Owen!” she squealed, ever so happy to be reunited with her friend. But his grin turned awkward, and his feet fidgety, his discomfort a reminder of their terrible parting five years earlier. She didn’t know whether to apologize or fling her arms around him.
Blocked by indecision, she twiddled her fingers against her robe and hoped he would say something to signal they were okay.
Perhaps sensing her unease, he edged forward and reached for her hand but quickly backed up. “I haven’t seen you since—”
“Since I made a fool of myself and announced we should make use of the coat room.”
Born n bred Brit, JoAnne Kenrick grew up in a wee sea-side town in North Wales and has enjoyed a variety of vocations such as holistic healer, window dresser, and ghost tour guide. Having lived in Wales, England, and Scotland with her dear family, she finally escaped the dull British summers to reside in sunny Australia. After two years, they moved to the States where she endured three harsh winters in Minnesota. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids and two puddy cats. When they aren’t demanding her attention, or jumping on her head, she strums away on the keys of her little laptop, creating worlds and adventures she could only ever dream of. Come across the pond and faraway….with JoAnne Kenrick! Find out more about JoAnne’s work by visiting http://www.joannekenrick.com and get exclusive sneak peeks at her upcoming releases by signing up to her quarterly newsletter here http://tinyletter.com/joannekenrick