As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"


More Than a Job's first kiss

More Than a Job has received a Warm rating by the author.


This excerpt is unedited and used by permission of Lynette Endicott.

                                        Enjoy!



He dropped it into her hand and let his fingers trail across her wrist before he moved them away."That one was always my favorite. It's an amethyst. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Amethyst is my birthstone." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, and filled with a kind of awe that touched him to the core.

"You have a February birthday, then." He frowned a minute, pulling words from a deep memory. "It is a crystal known for cleansing the aura, enhancing spiritual awareness, and…"

He struggled to remember the rest. Then he remembered and swallowed. "And attracting loving energy. It suits you." Loving energy emanated from Paige.

"It is beautiful."

He looked at her face, the perfection of her skin, slightly pink and so touchable, and he reached out one finger and ran it down her cheek. Electricity crackled up his arm.

"Yes, it is." He stopped at her mouth, shifted so his thumb was there instead, and hooked his finger under her chin. Then he lifted her eyes to his. "Beautiful," he repeated.

Her breathing picked up, and his own grew rapid and shallow, matching his speeding heart. He struggled to remember that he'd only seen this woman once before. He barely knew her, but somehow that didn't compute. The only thought he could process was how her lips would feel under his. He leaned forward for a little taste and found her lips parted ever so slightly and her breath tasting of cinnamon. She shifted a little closer.

She tasted of everything good and right in the world. Cinnamon and vanilla and honey. He moved his lips slowly, carefully, taking his time, giving her time to draw back or not, to do what she wanted and needed to do.

Her hand came up to his face and she angled in, deepening their kiss and stealing his reserve. Her fingers tested the feel of his hair, the stubble on his face, and then her tongue flicked the corner of his mouth.

Had he moaned out loud? He needed to press closer. He put his arm around her shoulder and shifted so their bodies touched as he pulled her against him.
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