readers are saying about STRIPPED BARE:
know is going to be great from the first page. It's funny, extremely sexy,
emotional and heartbreaking which all combine for a sensational second-chance
better! Richard Gere has nothing on Finn McCormick!!
writing since the start but this one could very much be my favorite book now by
the Strip for nothing. . . .
romance from bestselling author Heidi McLaughlin, a man who has it all reunites
with a woman who takes it all off.
no stranger to one-night stands, but the last person he expects to find losing
big on the casino floor is a former high school fling. Even though Macey
Webster’s clearly down on her luck, she’s still a knockout, and she’s dressed
like a stripper—because she is one. Drunk off an unfamiliar cocktail
of lust, pity,
Macey’s debts if she cuddles up to him around town . . . and does whatever he
wants between the sheets.
only: money. She’s got a young daughter to support, and the tips
really are bigger in Vegas. But when she blows her earnings on
blackjack, her guardian angel is the rich boy who once stole her heart and
never called her back. Although Macey would love to turn the tables on Finn,
she can’t afford to refuse his proposition—and soon she’s enjoying herself much
more than she cares to admit. Macey’s used to baring her flesh, but baring her
soul will take far more courage.
deep fry emanates from my clothes. I hate the smell and I know the other girls
can smell it, but I ignore the looks they’re giving me and hustle through the
dressing room to my locker. The older women and the ones that have been
stripping here longer always look down on the younger girls and the newbies.
I’m somewhere in the middle. I stripped here when I was younger, during my
first trimester with my daughter, and then again after she was born when I had
my figure back. Actually, stripping helped me tone as a result of all the pole
work that I had to do. I took some time off after that, but I always come back
because the money is fast and somewhat decent. Each time I leave, though, I say
that it’s for good and that was the last time and yet a few months later, I
always find myself back again, knocking on Lew’s door, and asking for my spot
in the rotation back. Girls come and go around here and in this business you
can’t expect to make a lasting connection with anyone.
quickly as possible before the stench of grease becomes any more noticeable. I
change into a thong and bootie shorts, add tassels to my nipples and cover them
with a bra before slipping a tank top over my head and stepping into an old
pair of cowboy boots that I picked up
the mark on every fantasy a man can have. Cowboys, librarian, naughty
schoolgirl . . . you name it I’m doing it. I need the money. More so now than
ever. My kid is getting older and she’s seeing things she shouldn’t, like her
grandmother being so drunk that she can’t get up to answer the door, or strange
men in the house. She’s ten and shouldn’t have to babysit an adult. Nor should
of living with barely any food, no new clothes and the strange looks, so I
swore that I was getting out. I was smart, got good grades in high school, but
none of that mattered once I found out I was knocked up and the baby daddy had
already left town. I tried to tell his mother, but she took one look at me and
shut the door. Back then I didn’t, but I do now. I’d take that money and run
right across the tracks, under the bridge and through the fucking blueberry
bushes if it meant my kid wasn’t going to be a victim of a drug deal gone wrong
or end up with a drinking problem by the time she’s a teen.
math. She’s all I have in this world and I’ll do anything I have to, to make
sure she has food and clothes.
the day or night, one pays better than the other, but they’re jobs that I need.
I have a goal. I want to move Morgan and I into a better neighborhood. One
where kids want to play and not sell drugs. I want her to live in a place where
she feels safe and doesn’t need to hide in the closet of our bedroom because my
mother invited one of her friends over.
day to make them happen. I want such a different life for her that sometimes
when I look out the window of the city bus I’m on and I see other kids her age
walking along the street without a care in the world, I imagine her being one
of those kids. If only . . .
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
lives in picturesque Vermont, with
is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland Westie/Mini Schnauzer,
JiLL and her brother, Racicot.
her sitting courtside during either daughter’s basketball games.