No strings attached.
It’s not what I really want, but it's all he has to offer. He's filled with turmoil and heartache and regrets, but for two hours every Wednesday all he feels is me. How much I desire him, how desperate he makes me, how much I'd like things to be different between us. Real.
He used to be my best friend back before he got married. And now? Now, he’s a young widower. It'd be wrong on so many levels to expect something more from him. So I give him what he needs. Dark delicious fucking. But I know I can’t keep this up. I've already given him my body, my soul. I want him to have my heart. It might drive him away forever, but that’s a risk I’m forced to take.
Wednesday is an angsty romp told from dual points of view. If you’re in the mood for something quick and dirty, you’ve found it. Proceed at your own risk.
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About Why I Wrote this Book:
The concept for what would eventually become WEDNESDAY was one of those random ideas that popped into my head in February 2016. It was a Saturday morning—you know the kind where you’re still lounging in your pajamas, drinking coffee, and picking at breakfast several hours after waking? Yes, one of those. My kids were playing on the living room floor, my husband flipping through a magazine across from me. It was winter in Minnesota, which meant it was absolutely freezing out and we had no plans to go anywhere.
I grabbed my laptop and wrote out the blurb for a book I knew I had no time to write. I e-mailed it to my publicist and said, “What do you think about this idea?” Her response was enthusiastic, something along the lines of, “You need to write this book! Right now!” So I opened a blank document, and soon I had the beginning of a first chapter.
Because this project didn’t fit into my writing schedule (like, at all), I decided that I would continue writing the books I was supposed to in order to keep on track with my releases, but that I would write one thousand words a night on this book too, and just see where it took me. It was a hard couple of months, alternating between two projects—one I would write during the day in present tense, and this book in the evening after dinner, dishes, and bath time, in past tense. This book was basically written with the help of wine, my couch, and a good playlist, which I included for you at the end.
Chloe and Shaw didn’t even have names for the first several weeks. I didn’t outline or plot. I had no idea where the story was heading . . . I just had a haunted what if question in my head.
What if the man you’d grown up with, your lifelong best friend and secret crush, suddenly lost his wife? In what ways would his grief shape your new relationship? To what lengths would you go to be there for him?
Is it controversial? Inappropriate? Maybe. But love doesn’t have boundaries, and in telling this story, I let these heartsick, broken characters lead me. I knew they could find their happily-ever-after. And I also knew it would be a short story. Those were the only things I knew for sure.
I’m so glad that I stuck with it and spent all those evenings allowing their story to unfold. I hope you are too.
Kendall Ryan
devilish grin.
The ass. Of course I was waiting for him. I gave his chest a playful
shove, but rather than it pushing him away, he stepped closer,
crossing the threshold to invade my space. And my heart kicked up
speed in anticipation.
He was my drug. Bold. Intoxicating. Addictive.
“How was your day?” I asked, trying to keep things light.
He gave me a panty-melting grin, and that was when I knew there
wouldn’t be any pleasantries tonight. I guess I wasn’t surprised. He’d
tried to fuck me in his office a couple days ago, totally taking me
by surprise. He must be particularly wound up.
“My day was fine, Sunshine. Now, come here.”
He offered me his hand, and I took it. Sliding his grasp around my
wrist, he tugged me close so I was right up flush against his chest. I
wondered if he could feel the pounding rhythm of my heart. His own
heartbeat was steady and calm.
“You teased me the other day,” he said, trailing one fingertip down
the side of my cheek. “Wearing that little sundress. I wanted to hike
it up your thighs and watch you ride my face.”
I shivered in his arms. “If you expect me to say sorry, I’m not.”
He chuckled darkly. “As long as you understand I’m going to make up
for it tonight.”
A New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of more than a dozen titles, Kendall Ryan has sold over 1.5 million books and her books have been translated into several languages in countries around the world. She's a traditionally published author with Simon & Schuster and Harper Collins UK, as well as an independently published author. Since she first began self-publishing in 2012, she's appeared at #1 on Barnes & Noble and iBooks charts around the world. Her books have also appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than three dozen times. Ryan has been featured in such publications as USA Today, Newsweek, and InTouch Magazine.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras
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