Closing Montage by Thea Landen

Congratulations to Thea Landen on your new release!


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Edwin Crawford is dying. His suffering is made even worse when he considers how he’ll be leaving behind his wife of over four decades. He contacts 1Night Stand and instructs her to communicate with Madame Evangeline in the hopes she’ll find another man and won’t be lonely without him.

Abigail refuses to entertain the idea of pursuing a romance with anyone other than her husband. When Edwin continues to insist she use the dating service he found for her, she eventually agrees. But he should realize, she reasons, once she makes up her mind about something, she’s determined to do it her own way.

With Madame Evangeline’s help, Abigail plans the perfect evening. Through the use of virtual reality, she can take Edwin anywhere she wants, across the world and back in time, without him having to leave home. It’s their last chance to remember why they were so deeply in love for so many years. Even though she defied his wishes, can she convince him to go on one more date?


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“You know what our problem is?” he asked.


His other hand let go of mine and dropped to my waist. “We dance like old people.”

I rolled my eyes. “Edwin, we are old people.”

“Hey, we’re middle aged at best. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.” His feet stopped moving. “Either way, age seems rather irrelevant tonight.” In a flash, he spun me around so I faced in the opposite direction. I let out a squeak of surprise as his fingertips dug into me. “So, you know what we should do?”

The fire returned to my face, and I swallowed. “What?”

With a firm grip, he jerked me toward him, our bodies colliding. “Dance for me like you did at the bar, both earlier this evening and all those years ago.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, one eyebrow arched. “Are you serious?”

His lips grazed the edge of my ear as he whispered, “I always did like watching you move.”

My heart pounded. I tried to remember the driving rhythms of the music at the club, and pretend I was wearing something sexier than a sensible skirt and low heels. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back as my body swayed to the beat only I could hear.

Edwin placed his hands on my hips, guiding me backward as I danced. I rubbed against him, reliving the first time we’d been crushed together in the crowd at the college bar. His palms skimmed up my sides, and he let out a low hum of appreciation. I stiffened when he pushed my short gray hair out of the way and brought his mouth back to my ear. “Keep going.” The rasp in his voice accentuated his demand. “You feel fucking amazing.”

His wicked words drove me onward. I reached behind me to stroke the side of his face as I exaggerated my movements, gyrating against him like the passionate, free-spirited young woman I once was. He tried to stifle a groan, and his solid erection pressed into me from behind. Sensual cravings bubbled inside me. I refused to relent.

Broad palms roamed over my body, gliding across the thin silk with ease. His hands rose to cup my breasts, his fingers sinking into my flesh. Electricity shot through my core, and I gasped.

He ducked his head down to kiss my neck. As he nibbled at the delicate skin, he swiped his thumbs over my nipples, coaxing the stiff buds through the glossy fabric. A whimper escaped my lips. With a devilish laugh, he increased his pressure.

Another rush of arousal interrupted my provocative rhythms. The smoldering ache between my legs grew as I stood trapped in his arms. He kneaded and massaged, fondled and teased, his teeth nipping at the most sensitive spots at my throat. The entire time, his thick cock pulsed against me, a constant reminder of his own desire.

Edwin abandoned my breasts to inch down over my stomach. His hands arrived at the top of my skirt, and I shuddered. He traced along the edge with one finger, his touch blazing hot through my blouse. My head lolled back on his shoulder, anticipation coiling in my muscles. At long last, he slid one hand down the front of my skirt.

The movement sent the remote I’d tucked inside the waistband clattering to the floor. The sound made me bolt upright, but his grasp on me remained steadfast. “Leave it,” he growled.


Author Bio:

Author Thea Landen

Thea Landen lives in New York with her husband and two children, where she strives to encourage creativity and passion in all those around her, and uses writing to help inspire. Though she reads and writes in nearly all genres, she has a special fondness for science fiction, fantasy, and adventure and anything that pushes the imagination beyond its usual limits. When she’s not writing, or thinking about writing, her hands and mind are occupied by either yarn crafts or role-playing games.

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