"Trilogy No. 101 is an entertaining read with three stories that held my complete attention. Each story while unique in style brings passion, romance and that feeling of completion when you're finished. Samantha Sommersby is definately an author to be on the lookout for."--Dina Smith, Romance Junkies
"This book contains three stories that will heat up any night. Sexy men and the women who tame them, this book has it all. The love scenes are steamy and passionate and the couples are perfect for each other."--Angel Brewer, The Romance Studio
"Samantha Sommersby does a wonderful job drawing the readers in with great word play and characters. Each of these stories offers readers a full array of emotions from heartbreak, loneliness, to humor and romance. Trilogy No. 101 has earned its 4 Angels!"--Jessica, Fallen Angels Reviews
Blackout: "It had all the main ingredients of a deliciously sensual novel: sexy characters, a sexy setting and oh yeah, sex ... Who knew being trapped in an elevator could be so much fun!"
Touch the Fire: "'Touch the Fire' is a sweet romance with heat ... Flint is reminiscent of a modern day Romeo with his kind and gentle nature. Nicole was his Juliet, strong and patient."
June in August: "This poignant tale of two star-crossed lovers was beautifully written. The dialogue was snappy; the plot was tight and concise. The characters showed what old fashioned love was all about. Pleasantly refreshing, 'June in August' is Sommersby at her best. The only bad thing about this story is it was over much too soon."--Diamond Taylor, Romance Divas
He unzipped his jacket and took it off. Wiley was wearing a white t-shirt underneath. It was drenched in sweat and clung to his chest. He was lean and hard, thinner than I remembered and his eyes were a bit duller. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, shook one out, lit it up, and inhaled deeply.
"Hoped I would see you today," he said, blowing out a stream of smoke. "When I came in this morning I saw that your Daddy had scheduled an oil change. Thought you might come with him."
"Momma and Daddy are in Houston with Sam. His number came up yesterday. He's getting his physical today."
Wylie tossed his cigarette onto the ground. "Damn," he murmured. "Sorry to hear that, Junebug." Wylie fished the keys to the garage out of his front pocket and unlocked the door.
"No one calls me Junebug anymore," I told him, stepping over the threshold.
He opened up the cooler that contained the Coca Colas, pulled out two, popped the caps off using the side of the countertop and handed me one. "What do they call you?"
"Just June."
"Well, 'Just June', suit up. You can help me with the oil change," he said, tossing a pair of greasy overalls at me.
I dodged them.
"Wiley! I'm wearing white linen for heaven's sake!"
"Wouldn't be my choice for changing oil," he said, shaking his head. "But then, you've always been peculiar."
"I am not peculiar and I'm certainly not changing the oil!"
"Forgot how?"
"No!" I said feeling exasperated. "Are you blind? Look at me. I'm--"
"All grown up, with thoughts ... and feelings. I remember," he said, taking a step towards me.
I felt myself start to blush.
"I don't mean to embarrass you. Your letters were wonderful, June. They were all that kept me going sometimes. The war, it ... it wasn't what I thought it would be."
I was certain that I was going to faint. My heart was pounding so fast and so loud I half expected it to break my chest.
"You never wrote back," I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper.
He glanced down at his boots then looked up at me and smiled. His long sandy blonde hair half hiding his eyes. "I wrote. I wrote all the time. I just didn't mail any of them."
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