Excerpt: Praying for Rain by BB Easton
"BB Easton is a masterful storyteller at her very best with Praying for Rain. It's easily in the top five books I've EVER read. Unique, sexy, and wonderfully written, Praying for Rain is a story I'll remember always and reread often." -- T.M. Frazier, USA Today bestselling author
Praying for Rain, an all-new powerful and emotional love story from BB Easton, is available now!
With only three days left until the predicted apocalypse, the small town of Franklin Springs, Georgia, has become a wasteland of abandoned cars, abandoned homes, abandoned businesses, and abandoned people. People like Rainbow Williams.
Rain isn’t afraid of dying. In fact, she’s looking forward to it. If she can just outrun her pain until April 23, she’ll never have to feel it at all.
Wes Parker has survived every horrible thing this life has thrown at him with nothing more than his resourcefulness and disarming good looks. Why should the end of the world be any different? All he needs are some basic supplies, shelter, and a sucker willing to help him out, which is exactly what he finds when he returns to his hometown of Franklin Springs.
As society crumbles, dangers mount, and secrets refuse to stay buried, two lost souls are thrust together in a twist of fate—one who will do anything to survive and one who can’t wait to die.
Perhaps, together, they can learn how to live.
Before their time runs out.
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Just like in my nightmare, her touch is all it takes for me to lose complete control—of the situation, of my willpower, of my own damn body. Instead of giving her a swat on the ass and sending her home like I know I should, I watch like a prisoner in my own mind as my arms wrap around her tiny shoulders and pull her in closer.
No! What the fuck are you doing, pussy? Cut her loose!
I scream at myself, call myself every name in the book, but the voice in my head is drowned out by the euphoric rush I get from holding this girl. She coils my shirt in both fists. Burrows her face into my neck. Her breath comes in short, hot bursts as she giggles against my skin. Her nose is cold. And all I can do is watch in humiliation as the meat puppet I live inside of tips its face down and smells her fucking hair.
Oh my God, you’re pathetic.
Sugar cookies. She laughs like a farm animal. She looks like a discarded porcelain doll that raided a teenage boy’s closet. And she smells like fucking sugar cookies.
Let her go, dipshit! Supplies! Shelter!
Self-defense! That’s what you need!
But the warning falls on deaf ears because now my stupid fucking cock has gone rogue, too. Why not? Nothing else is listening to me. It springs to life and rams itself into my zipper, seeking Rain’s attention as well. I take a small step back, just enough to keep from shoving my hard-on into her belly like a full-fledged creep, but she responds to my step back with one of her own.
And that’s it.
The moment is over.
The laughter is gone.
We drop our arms, and we begin walking.