Roll with Me

Can they stop running long enough to let love catch up with them?

Chloe is a former runner turned wheelchair racer with MS who doesn’t want sympathy or to be saved. She just wants to fall in love. When she meets Rachel, a fellow runner with long hair and beautiful legs, they initially fall for each other, but Chloe is not a regular wheelchair user, and is able to keep her disability a secret.

Rachel senses that Chloe is holding something back, and this secret tears their relationship apart. For them to be together, Chloe has to let Rachel run past her denial and roll even closer to her heart.

Roll With Me is the tenth book in the Lesbian Light Reads series, but each book stands alone. This lesbian contemporary love story includes graphic sex and is intended for adults only.

Excerpt

Two months after the break up, I was ready for something more than hanging out with Joss and watching her pick up some girl almost wherever we went out. It wasn’t like she ever abandoned me. Some men followed the bros before hos philosophy, and Joss followed something similar, although we could never figure out a way to lesbianize that saying or make it less sexist. I was just starting to feel ready for my own girl. My memories of ponytail girl were fading, and the lakefront trail had not provided any recent late-night fantasy fodder. I’d been out a couple of times with Arturo pushing along the lakefront trail since that one Saturday, but I hadn’t seen that beautiful woman with the ponytail and the dimple again.

I never had done a one-night stand unless I expected it to be more than that, and I didn’t see that changing, even though I was horny as hell. I had already moved through and past the no-one-will-ever-love-me-again phase. I was starting to feel lovable again. It was time for me to look for my next serious relationship.

Joss and I agreed that something more serious was far more likely at a lesbian dining out social than a loud bar. She was willing to give up the Ace of Clubs event at Queen for one night to be my wingwoman for this weekend’s outing (a lesbian singles night) at a local Thai sushi restaurant. It wouldn’t have surprised me, though, if she hooked up there. She was that smooth.

Over spicy tuna rolls and crab rangoon, Joss chatted with a real estate agent who seemed more interested in selling her a condo than in going home with her and a woman who expressed harsh judgment on lesbians who hung out at bars and clubs and slept around.

Joss smirked and blew her a kiss. “Don’t worry. You’re not my type anyway.” Then she turned to me and said loud enough for the woman to hear, “You don’t have to do what I do, but slut shaming is just plain wrong.”

I liked Joss. She had a good point that I’d heard her make several times before. The judgmental woman disappeared into another conversation. Then I saw her. Her dark brown curls were no longer in a ponytail and hung down past her shoulders. She was wearing a pale pink sleeveless cotton dress with four buttons that ran down from the neckline. The first two buttons were undone, showing off the beginning of her cleavage. She smiled, and the dimple I wanted to lose myself in got a little bigger.

“Well, look who just got hungry,” Joss said.