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Friendy Friday with Lynn Turner

Greetings Friendy Folks! Welcome to my weekly get-to-know-a-new-author post! Lynn sliiiiid into my DMs last year over on twitter when we were both deep in research mode and MAN! You know when you just connect with someone and it’s amazing? Yeah, well this was AH-MAY-ZING! We chatted for a bit, I looked up her books and found this GORGEOUS story and was like “broken dancer, interracial/multicultural romance, that’s my JAM!” So I want to bring this beauty to you. Plus, Lynn is just awesome, and I HIGHLY approve of her name (what, you didn't know what the L in R.L. stood for?). I’ve had fun getting to know her a little, bonding over the whole trying to write while momming gig and she’s been super supportive! I hope you all dig her as much as I do!!!

Pas De Deux: A Dance For Two Contemporary Romance (IR/Multicultural, etc.)

Blurb: It's said the artist is born of a damaged soul… Wilhelmina Allende is a prima ballerina. When tragedy turns her beloved Paris into a gilded cage, she jumps at the chance to work with one of the most prolific choreographers she’s ever seen. But Zack’s style is way out of her comfort zone. So is his teaching method. And his humor. And his everything. He’s a charming little connard. It’s hard not to like him. Merde. What has she gotten herself into? Zachary Coen’s first musical is opening on Broadway. Much like his life, it’s anything but conventional, so hiring Mina is simply out of the question. She’s too…classical. Too perfect. She’s all wrong for the role. Then he meets her in person and sees her cracks. Her broken pieces. How unique and beautiful each one is. And he can’t help but notice how her edges seem to fit his…perfectly. Just when teaming up seems to be working, the monsters they’ve kept hidden threaten to rip it all apart. Excerpt “Take off that ridiculous sweater.” Mina jumped. Zack was alarmingly close to her ear. “How do you keep doing that? Sneaking up on me like…like a—” “Like a lion?” he murmured, lifting his hands to her shoulders, gently massaging. “You’re so tense. Sorry about Alex—he meant well, but I think what he said might qualify as sexual harassment. For the record, I’ll never grope you unless you want me to.” “Connard!” She meant for the insult to sound much harsher, but it ended on a moan, her traitorous body melting into his hands. “Why did you cover the mirrors?” “Because you bully yourself.” His warm breath tickled her cheek. “It is July.” She cast a quick glance behind them at the others. Were they looking, a massage to a ballerina’s tense shoulders wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. Still. She lifted her shoulders to shrug him off and turned to face him. “I’m cold.” “Bullshit. It’s seventy degrees in here. Pretty state-of-the-art, these climate-controlled studios…” She glared at him. “I have to see your body, petite, watch your muscles moving. You know that.” “I think you’ve seen enough,” she snapped, then felt the color leave her face. “Merde!” “So that is what this is about.” “No.” She looked nervously at the others again. “Liar. Are we seriously gonna pretend you didn’t come in my lap?” Mina gasped, her arms going limp at her sides. She stared at his smug, infuriatingly handsome face as he unzipped her hoodie, watching his eyes move slowly over her body in her leotard and wrap skirt. Then, to her abject horror, she moaned. “Ssshhh, don’t wanna go telling the whole world now, do we?” With a wink, he tossed her hoodie into the corner with her bag. “We’ll start from the second phrase,” Alex’s voice cut in, and Mina nearly leapt from her skin. Moving to her mark, she lowered her voice so only Zack could hear. “That can’t happen again.” “Can’t?” His tone matched hers. “It wasn’t hard, petite.” Getting into position, he took her by the waist and looked square into her eyes. “And now, I’m intrigued.” “Enfin, don’t be.” Pre-order Links Amazon: iBooks: nook: Goodreads Website

Author Bio Lynn Turner is dedicated to writing inclusive stories that explore what it means to be imperfectly human. She is convinced she would have made a great Gilmore Girl, that writing about herself in third-person is weird, and that Colin Firth is the best Mr. Darcy (don’t fight her on this). When she isn’t writing and adulting, she’s tackling her monstrous TBR list, TV-binging, traveling, or watching old Samantha Brown travelogue videos and wishing she had her job. She and her husband share their home in California with their two extraordinary children and their sometimes cat, Bowie.

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