Fast cars, motorcycles, and one-night-stands have been Mac’s life since she left the military. Bitter over a lost love and never one to gamble, she ends potential relationships with surgical precision to avoid another heartache. After her flight to Italy is delayed by a wicked storm she intervenes when a drunk passenger threatens the desk agent. Impressed with her courage, fellow passenger Lana Baroni offers to buy her a drink. One coffee and an upgrade later, they spend the fight to Italy talking cars and racing. When a site-seeing date with Lana turns into an afternoon tryst, Mac has to choose: hit the brakes, or roll the throttle and risk everything to win Lana’s love.
Publisher: Ninestar Press
Heat Level: 5
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Lesbian
Protagonist 1 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 2 Age: 36-45
Tropes: Class Differences, Cultural Differences, Interracial Relationship, Love Can Heal / Redemption, Out for You
Word Count: 65000
Languages Available: English
“Moltrasio, but I have some business in Milan beforehand. "And you?”
“I live here but I’m trying to get to Monza.”
“For the Grand Prix, yes?”
“Yes. How’d ya know? You psychic?”
“This.” She tapped the magazine in Mac’s lap.
Mac smiled and searched for something else to say. I could listen to her talk all day.“You follow Formula One?”
“You could say that.” Her mouth quirked up on one side. “Did they say how long before we board?”
“Nah, our plane had to land in Norfolk. The storms have grounded everyone.”
The woman frowned and pulled an e-reader from her bag. Mac took the clue and slid back in her seat and opened her magazine. The images of the drivers and cars sent a thrill through her. She flipped through it, trying to envision how it would be watching the race in person. She remembered the first time her dad took her to a race. They were standing on the concrete apron of the grandstands at the half-mile track in Richmond when the drivers started their engines. Mac’s dad had boosted her up on his shoulders to see over the crowd. The scent of his drugstore aftershave and cigarette smoke blended with the smell of fuel and sweat and adrenaline that was NASCAR. She shivered remembering the way her body vibrated with the roar of the engines. She traced her fingers over the images of the cars on the page. This is for you, Dad. And me.