Born and raised in Virginia, LM Fox currently lives in a suburb of Richmond with her husband, three kids, and a chocolate lab.
Her pastimes are traveling to new and favorite places, trying new foods, a swoony book with either a good cup of tea or coffee, margaritas on special occasions, and watching her kids participate in a variety of sports.
She has spent the majority of her adult life working in emergency medicine and her books are written in this setting. Her main characters are typically in the medical field, EMS, fire, and/or law enforcement. She enjoys writing angsty, contemporary romance starring headstrong, independent heroines you can’t help but love and the hot alpha men who fall hard for them.
Each day I long for the forbidden.
Dreams like seeds planted in poor soil.
My future has been sown since I was young,
and now the man I’ve fallen for is off-limits.
Not that he’d give me the time of day.
My brother’s best friend puts out fires by day,
and ignites unfamiliar feelings by night.
How do I pluck these desires before they overtake me?
I’m choosing to stay positive. Live joyfully, like a sunflower.
If only someone like Alex could adore me as I do my faithful blossoms.
My life is nearly perfect.
Great job, hot girl, and amazing friends.
So why do I feel off?
I’m not looking for more. And if I was,
the last thing I’m allowed to consider is Tuesday Palmer.
If only she hadn’t put me under a spell
with her bright smile and radiant personality.
But restraint is the name of this game.
I can only look, not touch, this tempting flower.
Even if I’m dying to surrender.
TRIGGER WARNING: Car Accident
I arrive at the apartment complex, gather her out of the truck, and lead her upstairs. Luckily the apartment is on the second floor because I’m tempted to carry her at the rate we’re going with these steps. We no sooner make it inside than I lead her to the bathroom and encourage her to do whatever she needs to get herself ready for bed. While she’s taking a leak or brushing her teeth, I find a glass and fill it with cool water, retrieve the Ibuprofen from the pantry, and grab the kitchen trash can to bring to the bedroom in case these wine coolers come back to haunt her.
After ten minutes of near silence, I get nervous that she’s passed out and knock on the door. “Sunny? You okay?”
“Babe, what’s up? Come on out so you can sleep this off.” Still nothing. I crack the door, peeking in to ensure she’s not completely naked, and find her sitting on the side of the tub. Coming closer, I lower my voice a bit. “What’re you doing, T?” As sheltered as her family keeps her, I have to remind myself this girl has probably not had many chances to drink.
“I can’t get my pants off.”
Well fuck. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She shakes her head, her hair falling like a curtain around her face.
“Come on, Sunny. Let’s get you into bed.”
Her facial expression is almost comical as she gazes up at me with a doe-eyed expression.
“Are you going to remember any of this tomorrow?” I chuckle. “Up and Adam, you little temptress.” I wrap an arm around her and encourage her toward the guest room. My old room.
Once I sit her down on the edge of the bed, I watch as she attempts to wriggle out of her skinny jeans and try not to laugh out loud. Grabbing ahold of the waistband, I carefully pull them down her legs. My hands start to tremble, and I scold myself as my cock jumps in my pants. Sitting on the floor as her feet dangle over the edge of the bed, I remove one foot and then the other. Her skin is silky smooth, and I’m dying to lean forward and drag my tongue along the inside of her thighs.
As I unfurl her pants and stand to lie them on the end of the bed, I nearly come undone. She’s managed to remove one arm from her shirt while I was wrestling with her pants. Her breasts taunt me from the lacy back bra she’s wearing. The delicate material is in contrast to the little white boy shorts she has on that are doing a number on my dick.
“Whoah, whoah, whoah. What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.” She answers matter-of-factly, still wriggling in her shirt.
“What? You sleep in the buff? Nevermind. Don’t answer that.” I don’t want to know. I’ll never get that vision out of my head.
“I don’t sleep naked. But I don’t want to sleep in my bra.”
Fuck. And now I’m thinking about her tits.
“And my shirt smells like old beer.”
“Were you mixing beer and fruity drinks?” No wonder she’s a mess.
“No. Xane spilled it on me.”
“He offered to lick it off,” she laughs.
“I suggest you stop talking or you’ll have to put yourself to sleep with one arm stuck in your shirt because I’m going to be busy ripping that asshole’s tongue from his face.”
A mixture of a giggle and hiccup escapes, and I quickly reach for the trashcan.
“Are you going to be sick?”
“Nope,” she says, still squirming inside her top.
I place the trashcan down and head for the closet, where some of my shirts remain. Returning to Tuesday’s side, I sit her up so her back is to my chest and help to free her remaining arm. “Sunny, slide your bra straps down. I’m going to slide this shirt over your head, and we can get your bra off after you’re covered.” Hell. The mere notion of taking her bra off, covered or not, has gotten me to full mast.
“Okay,” she says. Her minty breath dances over my face.
Once Tuesday is settled, I pull back the sheets and scoot her into bed. “You sure you don’t feel sick?”
“Nope.” Hiccup. As her breaths get heavier, I grow weary about leaving her. What if she throws up during the night? She’s barely taking up any space in this queen-sized bed, so I slide in before I can contemplate what I’m doing.
I’m a married mother of three living on the East Coast of the U.S. I’ve worked in emergency medicine as a physician assistant the majority of my adult life, and my books are typically written in this setting. I write steamy, contemporary romance with characters who are in the medical/EMS, firefighting, and law enforcement sectors. I enjoy crafting stories about everyday heroes, particularly feisty, independent heroines and the bad boy alphas who fall hard for them. I started writing to escape my high stress work life.
I’m a plotter. I take scenarios from real life, often from my medical career, and weave in characters.
Watch my kids in their sports activities.
I actually celebrate with my covers. They’re like my gift wrap.
I don’t really have a set celebration routine. My family usually goes out to dinner and I enjoy a frosty margarita.
This particular book is an interconnected standalone in a multi-author collaborative series called Wild Blooms. Each book opens with the same line/scene when someone contacts Wild Blooms Floral Delivery. Then each book continues on its own unique journey. I volunteered as a paramedic when I was close to the main female character’s age. So I built this brother’s best friend novella around my experience there.
Yes, I use real people in my books.
I needed the main male character to be living his life, trying to fight his growing feelings for the main female character. Thus he’s dating someone else when this book begins. I don’t enjoy reading cheating books, so I find it complicated writing side characters who are involved with the main characters romantically. But if it’s essential to the character’s development and the bones of the story, I walk this line carefully.
A lot of it! I enjoyed reliving my youth at the rescue squad as well as creating scenes aboard a cruise ship, as our family holidays are frequently onboard a ship.
TL Swan is my biggest inspiration. Many of the authors in the Wild Blooms series were also mentored by her.
With each passing tune, I fall a little more under her spell. I’d normally be running for the table, having done my duty dancing with her for a couple of numbers as requested. But the thought of having to pull away from her keeps my feet rooted to this dance floor.
“Alex,” Tuesday says in a swoony tone as she grabs my shirt and pulls me into her.
“This has been the best night of my life.” The radiant spark emanating from her has short-circuited my mind. Any resolve I had left is gone.
I cup her angelic face and crush my lips over hers. The instant heat that spreads from her sweet mouth has me coming undone. I tease her lips with the tip of my tongue, begging for entrance. Once inside, it’s impossible to know whether the moans I hear are coming from her or me. I can feel the current as the glide of her playful tongue connects with mine all the way down my spine. I pull her closer, enjoying the feel of her body engulfed by mine, and pray I can neutralize the electricity building between us.
Yet any hope of fighting this is pointless. No kiss has ever felt like this. All that came before were merely a means to an end. Foreplay to get what I really wanted. But this kiss with Tuesday. It’s intoxicating. She tastes of chocolate, sunshine, and surrender.
I could spend eternity kissing this sweet girl.
This sweet, forbidden girl.
Tuesday: I love that you stood up for what you wanted, both with your family and the man you loved.