Hi, I’m Lucy Woodhull, romantic comedy author and tight-pants-on-superheroes enthusiast. Today I’m here to talk about forgetting. The hero of my new book is forgetful. Well, he has amnesia, so that’s rather a mega state of forgetful. It’s the third book in my Samantha Lytton series of rom coms about a secretary-turned-actress and the art thief who steals her heart. And her peace of mind. And is always trying to snatch off her clothing, too…
Things I, Lucy Woodhull, Could Do Without Remembering:
• Mean comments on the Internet
• How many calories are in milkshakes
• That non-fat ice cream exists (why????)
• That my feet are too small for most adorable shoes, damn it
• The cancellation of Arrested Development
• Ditto for Don’t Trust the B in Apartment 23
• That I can’t own an elephant for practical reasons
• The girl who bullied me in grade school
• The fact that I made up “Norwegian Fish Porn”
• And that my mom will read it
• What “earwax” flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans taste like
• My past as an intergalactic warrior woman from the planet Zzyzzyzrk
• Wait, not that last one. Just kidding!
Despite all those nasty things rattling around in my head, I’m still actually glad I don’t have Samnesia. Mostly because I have enough trouble navigating the streets of Los Angeles already.
Sam and Samantha deal with his memory loss with dignity, grace, and nobility. And sex puns.
Title: The Wrath of Dimple by Lucy Woodhull
Samantha Lytton Series Book Three
Publisher: Totally Bound
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Comedy
Length: Super Novel/Word Count: 81,422
This is book three in the Samantha Lytton series, see the full series listing here
Unforgettable. That’s what she’s not.
Life is perfect for Samantha Lytton, big-screen superheroine. Her acting career flourishes, the bad guys from her past are in prison, and she’s married her true love, be-dimpled ex-thief Sam. Everything is so rosy and idyllic, it’s like a freaking princess movie. Well, an R-rated one. Nothing could mar Sam and Samantha’s fairy-tale romance!
Except the moment in the emergency room when Sam, his head cracked open, turns to his beloved wife and asks, “Who the hell are you?”
He’s suffering from…Samnesia! (At least he still laughs at Samantha’s stupid puns.) How on earth did that happen? If Samantha is going to live her very own soap opera, she’d choose an evil twin over amnesia any day.
With no idea who has attacked Sam or why, Samantha is left in the depths of despair with a hunk who doesn’t remember her, a creepy film director who’s getting more threatening by the minute, and, oh yeah, the people who continue to try to murder Sam. How do you solve a mystery wrapped in a head bandage inside an empty skull? Nothing a little Norwegian fish porn and a lot of cleavage can’t fix. Hopefully.
Samantha needs every ounce of her courage to win her husband back before their enemies catch up to finish them both off. She thought their love was written in the stars, but it might just be scribbled on an Etch-A-Sketch.
Purchase Link: Totally Bound
Here’s an excerpt from THE WRATH OF DIMPLE. Warning: sexy spanking, ahoy.
“Beautiful,” he murmured sweetly. “Over the back of the couch,” he ordered less sweetly.
Thrills fluttered in my chest—I don’t really enjoy being ordered around unless I’m naked.
I draped myself just so.
“Spread your legs.”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant.” I moved to obey.
He chuckled, all dirty and nasty. “I like that.”
“Get it?” I wiggled my butt. “Drill?”
A firm hand ran from my shoulders to my upturned bottom. “Yeah.”
“I bet you’re gonna lick me with your heavy artillery.”
His hands stopped.
“And here I am…booby trapped.” I shimmied my chest helpfully to get my point across.
With a sigh, he said, “What have we talked about, Samantha?”
My butt sagged. “No puns during sex.”
He swatted my ass, and I yelped. “Ow! Quit storming my right flank! I surrender!”
“Enough! Or I’m gonna counter-attack.”
I burst into giggles and fell over the couch. He spanked me again and joined my mirth despite himself. I jerked upward. “Wait!”
“What? What’s wrong?”
I turned around fully and slid down into a squat. “You said, ‘What have we talked about, Samantha?’” My heart raced and pounded fit to leap out of my ribs. “But we haven’t talked about that…recently. I haven’t punned in bed in forever. Not since the power tools incident, which also, ironically, began with the word ‘drill’.”
He flopped down beside me. “But—but that’s something that has happened?”
“Yes!” I nearly screamed it.
“I… I don’t know why I said it. I just felt it.” Half smiling, half staring into himself, he searched my eyes. “Maybe—maybe there’s hope.”
“This is why I should always sex pun!”
“Really, no. You’re not that cute.”
“I am, though.”
“Get on your knees again. You’re cute that way.” He grinned.
What would you like to forget? Hopefully not my books. (How was that for subtle shilling?) If you’d like to read more about Sam and Samantha’s adventures, you can find all three books at Totally Bound. Thanks for reading!