A Perfect Holiday by Riley Murphy: Cover Reveal

Coming soon to Amazon, by author Riley Murphy

It’s not a matter of what could go wrong when a kindergarten teacher who’s tired of living vicariously through her porn collection is virtually stranded for the weekend with Mr. Sex-on-a-stick. It’s more a question of what could go right.

Sidney Capp is tired of denying her natural desires to be the quintessential good girl her parents expect her to be. So when the holidays arrive, and she’s free of her folks breathing down her neck for the weekend? She’s drunk with power. Probably why when the opportunity to be a little bad presents itself, she doesn’t hesitate, but dives all over him.

Riker Mitchell thinks being forced into some much needed R&R for a few days is going to kill him until he inadvertently discovers his sexy but shy neighbor is secretly into watching porn on the weekends. Apparently, he isn’t the only one with erotic ideas on the brain. Little does he know, the hottie in two B is determined to turn her sizzling dreams into a sensual reality. On a regular day, with a regular girl, he would have been the first to sign up, but with this little innocent?  No matter how tempting it might be, he’s not going to take advantage of her…unless she can persuade him to do the wrong thing. 


Knock, Knock.

Sidney sat straight up. She muted the TV and scowled. It was eleven thirty on a Friday night. She wasn’t going to answer the door. The complex was deserted. Hadn’t Martha told her she’d be alone except for maybe one other resident around the place this weekend?

“Ms. Capp? Sidney? This is Riker Mitchell. I just got off the phone with Ms. Malloy and she said you had the set of master keys. I need them. I’m locked out.”

Now Sidney wasn’t one to believe in miracles. But it was the holidays and Riker “dreamy playboy” Mitchell knocking at her door? Right up there with God arriving to shake her hand and the Red Sox’s winning another World Series. Grabbing the remote, she pressed the pause button and listened. This really was too good to be true. Maybe she’d been fantasizing again.

“Ms. Capp?”

And that would be a no, as not one fantasy she ever had of him sounded this sexy. The guy’s voice belonged on late night radio. Late, late, late night when all his female listeners were lying in bed either boosting battery sales or straining ligaments in their fingers. Yep, he had that kind of effect on any woman not currently dead. Fortunately for her? Last time she checked she was breathing. Brushing a hand down her cotton shorts she paused to tug the hem of T-shirt before she fluffed her hair. This might be the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Maybe—one quick check down and she deflated. Forget the lame Star Wars shirt. What did that matter when there was a puddle of dried chocolate sauce with Twizzer shavings embedded in it? Gah, right above her left breast? The good one. Well, not the breast, but the bra cup holding it as she had a bum elastic strap on the right side.

“Hello? I see the light on and I heard noise. I know you’re up.”

Of all the nights…she wanted to punch the wall. Whenever she’d dreamt of this moment—a scenario she’d planned a thousand times in her head where he came to her door— she’d imagined herself in sexy lingerie, evenly tanned with those extra five pesky pounds she normally carried melted off her. Reality weighed heavy and her shoulders started to dip, but then she took a look around and reasoned. The lighting was dim at moment. Maybe she could—nope, there was no getting around the brown blob that looked like she took a direct hit from a multi-colored paintball pellet.

“Ms. Capp?”

Screw it. As a kindergarten teacher she’d had worse things sticking to her chest. A sudden flashback of tiny rabbit turds hanging off her cable-knit sweater one spring came to mind. Yeah, after the petting zoo debacle this was nothing.   

Just be smart. Witty. Original.

“What’s the password?” Okay, what the hell was with that shit? Sure, she was stalling for time as she slipped her arms out of each sleeve hole so she could turn her top around, but seriously. Password?

“You want a…?” He started to ask and then mumbled more quietly, “Password? Malloy didn’t give me one.” Louder he said, “Mrs. Molloy didn’t—”

The moment she swung the door open he stopped talking and she got her first look at him. Yep, it was him all right. Six foot four, dark hair, dark eyes, well-muscled, sun kissed skin, still no wedding ring, rugged, delicious, no lipstick on his collar, scrumptious and hot. Hot. Hot!

When she finally stopped devouring him and looked up, he gave her a bemused smile and let that honey coated voice pour all over her. “Hi, Sidney.”

She wasn’t going to put her hands over her heart, but she felt like it. She wasn’t going to swoon, but she could have. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself… Please God, don’t let me mess this up. Drawing on all her strength she put as much confidence as she could into a casual grin, which was darn near impossible with the drool getting in the way of her trying to be cool, and said, “Hi. I was kidding about the password.” She stepped back and would have invited him in, but then she caught sight of the TV and nearly swallowed her tongue. Holy hell. Pulling a bouncer-esque move, she blocked his way. Then inwardly groaned as he stumbled back. Think. Fast. “Ah, you said something about keys? For your unit?”

No Nimrod, he’s asking for keys to someone else’s apartment. He’s a polite and considerate thief.

“Yeah, my brother needed my truck and unfortunately, my way to get in went with him.”

She almost asked him to produce his driver’s license so she could learn more about him, but one glance at the frozen vision on the TV stopped her. “Oh, I’ll um, you stay right there. Right there,” she held up her hand and patted air, “and I’ll get the, ah, key for you. Don’t move, okay?”

“Sure, but shouldn’t I come it? Your AC’s escaping.”

“Not to worry.” She felt bad about being rude as she left him to hurry up the hall toward her bedroom, but in this instance it couldn’t be helped. She didn’t dare draw attention to the corner of her living room where her TV was. Thankfully, the flat screen was against the back wall so he’d not only have to come into her place, he’d have to walk around the door to see it. A break for the weak-side. Wait…

Lumpy chocolate splat. Lumpy chocolate spat. Lumpy chocolate splat, sounded off in her head like that kid doing the Red-Rum chant in The Shining.

“Careful,” he said when she pretended to trip and fell against the wall, trying to walk backward in order to hide the mess.

 Real smooth, Sid.

 “Are you all right?”

She nodded, but continued to do the new strut, titled “the smear”, with her back against the drywall so he wouldn’t see the crusted chocolate as she made her way to her bedroom. Why did she drink that syrup right out of the jar tonight? You needed sweet after the bag of salt and vinegar chips you scarfed down, remember?

She groaned. Right.

With her room in sight, she pushed off the wall and practically dove in. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. You got this. She exhaled slowly and let her lids flutter open until she caught sight of her purse. Normally she loved her big bag, but not tonight. It was the enemy as time was of the essence. She dumped the whole thing upside down on the bed and shook out the contents. Spying the huge pink flamingo key ring she snatched it up and rushed to the entrance.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she called and held up the enameled bird. “You’re three A?”

Why she bothered to ask was a mystery. Riker had to be three A. He rented the penthouse apartment right over her unit. It was the only top-floor condo on this side of the building. So large it spanned the distance over the two units on either side of hers as well.


When that smoky baritone voice reached her she shivered. The sound did awesome things to her insides. Her pulse raced and she refused to believe it was the sugar. No—she bit her lip as she fought to get his key loose without breaking a nail—it was his presence that had her all fired up. One stealthy glance toward the front door and she wished just maybe he’d stick around longer than a mere few hours. The complex always seemed more alive and exciting when he was in residence.

What was she thinking? He liked leggy blondes with beach ball breasts and perfectly vacant stares. She couldn’t she compete with that. She had regular sized knockers and an M. Ed from Florida State University. Kind of hard to pull off busty or stupid without expensive medical procedures. Did they even do lobotomies anymore?

“Do you need some help?” Riker saw her struggling with the keys and made the offer. He was dog-tired and still sweating his ass off even though the cooler air from her place breezed over him. Her AC was nowhere near as cold as he kept his and just thinking about that made him anxious to get upstairs where he knew his was cranking. Her place smelled great though. Orange and cinnamon. Nice—he sniffed—hell, the scent reminded him of Christmas and home. Memories the unseasonably warm weather lately had killed. “Do you want me to see if I can do it?”


“No, I’ve got it. I’ll just be a second.”

He took another deep breath, hoping to recapture that little bit of nostalgia when he spotted her dining room chandelier. It wasn’t so much the hanging light itself, but the things dangling off it. Angels. And not the ethereal kind either. There was a fat one holding a harp, a skinny one wearing glasses and when he saw the mop-headed blonde one in the red and yellow poke-a-dot bikini he found himself smiling. He liked the winged chicks. Shifting, he tilted his head to get a better look at Sidney Capp. The few tenants he’d spoken to around here always referred to her as a “sweetheart”. He thought it was because she taught kindergarten, but maybe not. There was something about her.  He recalled how squirrely she’d been at the door and now watching as she fought with the keys, he decided maybe she was much the same as those ornaments. Quirky. Yeah, and probably an angel too. That sobered him right up.

   Angels were off his list. He’d been there and done that and it hadn’t panned out for anyone. Especially him.  He rolled his shoulders and shifted to turn away when he caught an image out of the corner of his eye. At first glance he’d though it was a graphic picture hanging on the wall, but then when he looked closer he realized it was a mirror. A mirror on the wall that reflected the image from—get the fuck out here—her TV. Miss quiet and keeps to herself kindergarten teacher—the woman he’d just determined to be a quirky angel— watches porn?

He eased the door opened wider and peered between the wall and the frame. Yessiree, she was watching naughty all right. Hardcore shit if the frozen image on the screen was any indication. Damn, that young woman was swallowing some pretty impressive—

“I got it. Oh, and I’ve also included a key to the pool gate. I know how much you like to do your twenty laps in the middle of the night when you can’t…”

Watching porn wasn’t her only form of late night entertainment it would seem. “Can’t?” He took the keys from her and while he waited for her to finish that sentence which wasn’t going to end well for her, he gave her the once over.

She was cute. Really cute with big eyes, pert little nose and nice mouth. Lips that were wide and full which only made him think about the image on her TV.

“Is that my phone?” He almost laughed. The comical way she cocked an ear, twisting back toward the master bedroom, but keeping her eyes on him, was priceless. “Phooey, it is—”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Oh,” She leaned back farther and almost fell. “Yes, I hear it vibrating in the bedroom.”

He couldn’t contain his grin now. Judging from the porn, she might not be an angel but she was definitely quirky in an adorable way. “Are you sure it’s your phone?”

“Yup, gotta go. Thanks for stopping by.”

Riker stared at the door for a good thirty seconds before he realized she’d slammed it in his face. And there was nothing adorable about that. Intriguing? Sure. Interesting? Moderately. A fucking turn-on? Absolutely. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been shut out by a woman. He shook his head and closed his fist around the keys. Her dismissing him shouldn’t matter, but it did.

He was halfway up the stairs to the third floor when the raw image on her TV came to mind. Did the little kindergarten teacher watch skin flicks for real, or was it a fluke? A bad pause in an erotic romance of some kind?

Tumbling his apartment deadbolt, he decided. He’d seen plenty of R rated movies and nary had a one highlighted that kind of talent. That kind of action was triple X all the way. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up though. She probably had cable and stumbled on that channel by accident.

Once inside, he kicked off his shoes and went directly to the sink to wash his hands. He still had no idea what the hell had been on that rock. Right now he didn’t want to know. With that mess taken care of he grabbed an iced bottle of water out of the fridge and headed to his room. Bed was going to feel good tonight. Tomorrow he’d worry about quirky Sidney with her wide eyes and vibrating phone.

As usual, he peeled off his clothes and tossed each item into the hamper before he slid naked between the sheets. He closed his eyes thinking he hadn’t been wrong. Bed felt especially good tonight. Yeah.

“Oh, God. Harder. Oh baby, you rock my world. Yes. Faster. Ahhhhh…”

His eyes snapped open and he scowled. “Damn, don’t you guys ever take a weekend off?”

He was all for sex, yet their resident randy couple unfailingly kept him up Friday and Saturday nights. Not only was she a screamer, he was talker and they both were into role playing. Pretty cheesy role-playing if you asked him. This was why most nights when they “had at it” he’d head down to the pool. Their sex played out like a bad porno.

And when that came to him he shot straight up. “Son of a bitch. No way.”

This time he really listened while he tried to determine the logistics. Creating a mental floor plan he was shocked. His large penthouse condo ran the length of all three one-bedrooms below and now that he examined the virtual footprint he realized Sidney’s living room was right under his master bedroom.

All these nights. All the blaming and covert glaring at that middle-aged couple in unit two A. Damn.

He fell back in the bed and stared at the ceiling. So, it was adorable, wide-eyed Sidney keeping him up at night. Well, well, well. The little school teacher really did have a naughty side. This changed everything. Intrigued? Check. Interested? Check. Turn-on? Check, check.

She’s an angel…

Right, maybe if she hadn’t mentally stripped him when she first opened that door, he’d have been more convinced about that fact. But she did slam the door in his face so he should just leave it at that. Who was he kidding? That was the very reason he was burning to get to know her better. And what impeccable timing to do so, as they’d have this cozy little complex all to themselves for the weekend. With this unexpected turn, he was beginning to think his forced sabbatical from the jobsite might not be as bad as he’d originally thought.

“Harder. Oh, Doctor, you can examine me anytime. Faster. Oh, yes, the gloves…”

Scratch might not be bad. This was more like fantastic. He’d be sure to thank the guys for making him take a few extra days off for R & R before the holidays. Clearly they were right and he’d been working too hard. How else had he missed the little hottie literally underneath him for the past six months?

Suddenly the muffled talking and moaning stopped and one would have thought he’d be happy about it. At least he could get some shut-eye, but it wasn’t to be. Strangely his semi-hard state went to full-flag alert with the continuing silence because now all his thoughts were on what she was doing down there if she wasn’t watching TV.

He groaned.

He knew what she was doing.

Sleep eluded him. Damn.

Riley Murphy writes sexy, humorous and emotional romance, happy ending guaranteed. An optimist, she believes life is awesome, people are complicated, but in a good way, and we should never stop learning. Riley currently resides in Florida with her gorgeous husband. She has two wonderful kids and one very bossy English Bull terrier. When Riley's not working she enjoys reading, oil painting and getting to the Sunday crossword puzzle before anyone else does, so she can fill-in all the easy answers first. If Riley wasn't a writer she'd be an international spy with top-level security so she could have a peek at Area 51 and decide for herself if those green guys are for real. Riley loves her characters and she hopes you do too. You can visit her website at www.AuthorRileyMurphy.com  


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