The Last Seduction Read online

  Growing older has hit youth softball club owner Hannah Carter across the face like a jilted lover. So much so that she’s let her long-time partner, Sasha, slip right through her fingers. Hannah has convinced herself things are better this way for everyone involved, that is until Sasha calls her, near death and pleading for her to come quickly.

  Sasha Bashton is trying like hell to move on with her life after the breakup, but dating someone new and throwing herself into her work doesn’t stop her from reliving Hannah’s warm smile and loving embrace no matter how much she wants to forget. When her chronic disease recurs, she’s rushed to the hospital fighting for her life. The only person she wants by her side is Hannah, but can she truly depend on her sticking around?

  Hannah has one last chance to show Sasha how wrong she has been and start fresh for a love worth fighting for. All she has to do is convince Sasha she's the right woman for her—the second time around.

  What Reviewers Say About Ronica Black’s Work

  Freedom to Love

  “This is a great book. The police drama keeps you enthralled throughout but what I found captivating was the growing affection between the two main characters. Although they are both very different women, you find yourself holding your breath, hoping that they will find a way to be together.”—Lesbian Reading Room

  Snow Angel

  “A beautifully written, passionate and romantic novella.”—SunsetXCocktail

  The Seeker

  “Ronica Black’s books just keep getting stronger and stronger. …This is such a tightly written plot-driven novel that readers will find themselves glued to the pages and ignoring phone calls. The Seeker is a great read, with an exciting plot, great characters, and great sex.”—Just About Write

  Flesh and Bone—Lammy Finalist

  “Ronica Black handles a traditional range of lesbian fantasies with gusto and sincerity. The reader wants to know these women as well as they come to know each other. When Black’s characters ignore their realistic fears to follow their passion, this reader admires their chutzpah and cheers them on. …These stories make good bedtime reading, and could lead to sweet dreams. Read them and see.”—Erotica Revealed

  Chasing Love

  “Ronica Black’s writing is fluid, and lots of dialogue makes this a fast read. If you like steamy erotica with intense sexual situations, you’ll like Chasing Love.”—Queer Magazine Online

  Hearts Aflame

  “Sleek storytelling and terrific characters are the backbone of Ronica Black’s third and best novel, Hearts Aflame. Prepare to hop on for an emotional ride with this thrilling story of love in the outback. …Along with the romance of Krista and Rae, the secondary storylines such as Krista’s fear of horses and an uncle suffering from Alzheimer’s are told with depth and warmth. Black also draws in the reader by utilizing the weather as a metaphor for the sexual and emotional tension in all the storylines. Wonderful storytelling and rich characterization make this a high recommendation.”—Lambda Literary Review

  “Hearts Aflame takes the reader on the rough and tumble ride of the cattle drive. Heat, flood, and a sexual pervert are all part of the adventure. Heat also appears between Krista and Rae. The twists and turns of the plot engage the reader all the way to the satisfying conclusion.”—Just About Write

  Wild Abandon—Lammy Finalist

  “Black is a master at teasing the reader with her use of domination and desire. Black’s first novel, In Too Deep, was a finalist for a 2005 Lammy. …With Wild Abandon, the author continues her winning ways, writing like a seasoned pro. This is one romance I will not soon forget.”—Books to Watch Out For

  “This sequel to Ronica Black’s debut novel, In Too Deep, is an electrifying thriller. The author’s development as a fine storyteller shines with this tightly written story. …[The mystery] keeps the story charged—never unraveling or leading us to a predictable conclusion. More than once I gasped in surprise at the dark and twisted paths this book took.”—Curve Magazine

  “Ronica Black, author of In Too Deep, has given her fans another fast paced novel of romance and danger. As previously, Black develops her characters fully, complete with their quirks and flaws. She is also skilled at allowing her characters to grow, and to find their way out of psychic holes. If you enjoy complex characters and passionate sex scenes, you’ll love Wild Abandon.”—MegaScene

  “Black has managed to create two very sensual and compelling women. The backstory is intriguing, original, and quite well-developed. Yet, it doesn’t detract from the primary premise of the novel—it is a sexually-charged romance about two very different and guarded women. Black carries the reader along at such a rapid pace that the rise and fall of each climactic moment successfully creates that suspension of disbelief which the reader seeks.”—Midwest Book Review

  In Too Deep—Lammy Finalist

  “Ronica Black’s debut novel In Too Deep has everything from nonstop action and intriguing well developed characters to steamy erotic love scenes. From the opening scenes where Black plunges the reader headfirst into the story to the explosive unexpected ending, In Too Deep has what it takes to rise to the top. Black has a winner with In Too Deep, one that will keep the reader turning the pages until the very last one.”—Independent Gay Writer

  “…an exciting, page turning read, full of mystery, sex, and suspense.”—MegaScene

  “…a challenging murder mystery—sections of this mixed-genre novel are hot, hot, hot. Black juggles the assorted elements of her first book with assured pacing and estimable panache.”—Q Syndicate

  “Black’s characterization is skillful, and the sexual chemistry surrounding the three major characters is palpable and definitely hot-hot-hot…if you’re looking for a solid read with ample amounts of eroticism and a red herring or two you’re sure to find In Too Deep a satisfying read.”—L Word Literature

  “Ronica Black’s debut novel, In Too Deep, is the outstanding first effort of a gifted writer who has a promising career ahead of her. Black shows extraordinary command in weaving a thoroughly engrossing tale around multi-faceted characters, intricate action and character-driven plots and subplots, sizzling sex that jumps off the page and stimulates libidos effortlessly, amidst brilliant storytelling. A clever mystery writer, Black has the reader guessing until the end.”—Midwest Book Review

  “Every time the reader has a handle on what’s happening, Black throws in a curve, successfully devising a good mystery. The romance and sex add a special gift to the package rounding out the story for a totally satisfying read.”—Just About Write

  The Last Seduction

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  The Last Seduction

  © 2019 By Ronica Black. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-212-6

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: June 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Tammy Seidick


  By the Author

  In Too Deep

  Deeper

  Wild Abandon

  Hearts Aflame

  Flesh and Bone

  The Seeker

  Chasing Love

  Conquest

  Wholehearted

  The Midnight Room

  Snow Angel

  The Practitioner

  Freedom to Love

  Under Her Wing

  Private Passion

  Dark Euphoria

  The Last Seduction

  Acknowledgments

  Cindy Cresap, my editor, as always, it was a pleasure. Thank you! The entire Bold Strokes crew, you are all amazing and you continue to bless my life by taking my work and turning it into something incredible.

  And finally, Cait. My one and only. Thank you.

  Dedication

  For the one. Eighteen years and counting. I love you.

  Prologue

  “Ma’am, your bottle of Chianti Straccali.” The waiter removed the cork and poured Sasha Bashton a glassful of the hypnotic, velvety red wine. It was one of her favorites, and her mouth watered in anticipation. She brought the wine up for a quick smell. Satisfied, she then swirled the wine and sipped it. She closed her eyes and smiled.

  “Wonderful,” she said, opening her eyes. The waiter pressed his hands together, seemingly pleased.

  “Is there anything else I can get you while you wait?”

  Sasha eyed the toasted bread that she’d been using to soak up the balsamic vinegar and olive oil. She’d heard that Italians didn’t eat bread with olive oil or balsamic vinegar in Italy. But at the moment, she didn’t care. She was starving.

  “No, thank you, not now.”

  “Very well, then.” He left her quietly, and she was once again alone with her thoughts. She plucked her phone from her purse and noted the time. Hannah was now a half an hour late. She debated calling, but she steeled her jaw, wanting to give Hannah the benefit of the doubt.

  Hannah had been running late a lot lately. For the last two years, actually. And each and every time, she had an excuse. Some were reasonable, but most were her simply being absentminded and apathetic. Sasha blamed most of it on her attitude with life. Hannah was ten years her senior, and she’d turned fifty with a very big chip on her shoulder. And four years before that, she’d battled breast cancer. Depression shrouded her, and instead of living life to the fullest, she began to act like she was ninety. She didn’t want to do anything, go anywhere. She was just merely existing.

  The whole thing had been wearing on Sasha, and she swore, to her friends and to herself, that she’d give her one more chance…just one more chance. This time there’d better be no excuses. Being a no show to happy hours and other events was one thing. But their fifteenth anniversary? A whole other thing altogether.

  Hannah had sworn the evening would be the greatest ever and she’d been the one to make the reservations at their favorite Italian restaurant. The one where they’d had their first date, first smile, first laugh, first witty, flirty banter. Sasha recalled that date with tears in her eyes. It had been such a magical evening. So where had all the magic gone? It seemed it had gone right out the door with Hannah. Like an Arizona monsoon wind blowing through their happy home, only to wrap Hannah up in its embrace and sweep her out the door, leaving nothing it its wake but a lonely old tumbleweed.

  Sasha drank her wine, taking in a couple of hearty swallows. Her heart rate was beginning to speed up. Sweat beaded along the nape of her neck. Surely Hannah hadn’t forgotten. Not tonight. Oh God, she felt sick.

  Around her, people laughed and glasses clanked. Waiters wove through tables. The heavy front door opened, and Sasha could no longer bear to look. She knew deep in her heart that Hannah would not be stepping through the door. She eyed her phone. Tears blurred her vision. It was pushing close to an hour now and no word.

  She dialed Hannah and held the phone to her ear. Hannah answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Sasha inhaled sharply. “Uh, hi.”

  “What’s up? You coming home soon?” A teardrop fell onto the wooden table as Sasha struggled to breathe. Hannah had forgotten. She’d fucking forgotten their anniversary.

  “Uh, no. No, Hannah, I’m not coming home. Not tonight. And probably not ever again.”

  “What? Wait, why?”

  “Happy anniversary.”

  Chapter One

  Friday. Sasha knew Fridays were supposed to be fun, a day of celebration even, signaling the end of the workweek. Usually, she smiled right alongside everyone else and even had a little hop in her step on the way out of the office to happy hour. But today was not the typical Friday. For one, it was her birthday. And two, she felt like hell. Serious hell. To make matters worse, her brain fog was so bad she couldn’t remember if it was her thirty-ninth or fortieth birthday.

  She leaned into the bathroom counter mirror with narrowed eyes and tried to clear her mind to find the answer. As she examined two new slight wrinkles on her forehead, she did the math in her head. She pushed away and straightened.

  “Fuck. I’m forty.”

  She sighed, thought about trying to cover the new wrinkles with makeup, and then rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, what’s the use?” She fumbled with her Coach purse, scrambling for her MAC Lipglass and quickly spread some on. Maybe somehow it would help to make her look less dead and zombie-like and more colorful and alive-like, able to move safely among the living. But she didn’t hold her breath. Behind her, the restroom door opened and one of her coworkers entered. Karen caught her gaze in the reflection of the mirror and smiled.

  “Sasha, hi. How goes it?”

  Sasha thought briefly about telling her the truth. That her hands and feet were swollen and she felt dizzy and nauseous. And should she mention she felt like passing out? No, too much. She shook the thought and forced a smile.

  “I’m okay. How ’bout you?”

  Karen eased into a stall and locked the door. “I’m well, thanks.”

  “That’s good.”

  Sasha braced herself on the counter and considered the walk to the parking garage. Could she do it? Could she make it? She would have to. She knew her colleagues would be more than happy to help if she asked; they all knew about her chronic kidney disease. But she preferred to keep her illness and its woes private. She didn’t want to seem different from anyone else.

  Karen emerged from the stall and stood next to her to wash her hands.

  “TGIF, right?”

  “You know it.” Sasha zipped her purse and pretended to examine her eyebrows. She didn’t want to leave until after Karen. That way, if she had to walk slowly or if she had to stop and rest, it wouldn’t be noticed. Most of the day shift had cleared out, and the evening shift was already in production of the latest newscast.

  “Say,” Karen said, touching her shoulder. Sasha was certain she would mention her birthday just as others had. But she didn’t. “You look a little…green around the gills. You okay?”

  Again Sasha forced a smile. “Oh, you know, I’m just tired. End of the week and all.”

  Karen studied her for what felt like ages. Sasha felt her face burn from being scrutinized so closely. What all could she tell? Was it that noticeable? God, she should’ve gone to the doctor two weeks ago instead of cancelling that appointment. But she’d sprained her ankle, and she’d been told by her primary care to stay off of it as much as possible. So she had. Now she feared she was paying the price. Maybe her nephrologist could’ve seen this coming and prevented it.

  “Okay, if you say so.” She dropped her hand and gave her a sympathetic look. “Get home safely and enjoy your weekend.”

  She left Sasha at the counter and breezed out of the restroom. Sasha exhaled long and hard and gathered her purse. As she emerged back into the large office space, she wondered why no one had mentioned that today was her fortieth birthday. Had she done her math right? What was she missing? Did people not conside
r forty to be a milestone anymore?

  A quick wave of dizziness washed over her, and she struggled to focus as she leaned against the wall next to the elevator. She stared down at her Gucci heels and had an urge to tear them off and walk to her vehicle in her stocking feet. Another wave came as the elevator door opened, and she walked carefully inside, glad to see it was empty.

  “Oh, to hell with it.” She slipped off her heels and stretched her toes. “Please help.” But her free feet did little to rid her of the sickening feeling. She blinked and focused on the number panel. She felt like she had on the wrong prescription eyeglasses. Yes. That was exactly it. Only she didn’t. She had in her contacts and they were fine.

  The doors opened with a ding, and she hurried out of the elevator and into the dim parking garage. If she could just make it to her Jeep. Sitting inside her new Grand Cherokee would fix everything. The new car smell mixed with the cinnamon air freshener would soothe her and she would be fine. The sickness would be gone. A horn blared to her left, and she jerked as a taxicab screeched to a halt.

  “Jesus, lady!”

  “Sorry, sorry.” She held up a hand in apology, but to her surprise he climbed from the car.