Alice Clayton

Serce mi krwawi, gdy dziewczyny same siebie nie doceniają. Zawsze myślą, że nie są wystarczająco dobre. Obiecaj mi, że nigdy nie zapomnisz, że jesteś dokładnie taka, jaka masz być. Dokładnie taka.
—  Alice Clayton

The first thing I saw was blue. Blue sweater, blue eyes. Blue. Beautifully blue. Then I saw red as I recognized who belonged to the blue.
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozen on the spot. His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.
“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,” he finally concluded. He grimaced.
We stared, seething as the air literally turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.


Books to Read - [Wallbanger by Alice Clayton]

The first night after Caroline moves into her fantastic new San Francisco apartment, she realizes she’s gaining an intimate knowledge of her new neighbor’s nocturnal adventures. Thanks to paper-thin walls and the guy’s athletic prowess, she can hear not just his bed banging against the wall but the ecstatic response of what seems (as loud night after loud night goes by) like an endless parade of women. And since Caroline is currently on a self-imposed dating hiatus, and her neighbor is clearly lethally attractive to women, she finds her fantasies keep her awake even longer than the noise. So when the wallbanging threatens to literally bounce her out of bed, Caroline, clad in sexual frustration and a pink baby-doll nightie, confronts Simon Parker, her heard-but-never-seen neighbor. The tension between them is as thick as the walls are thin, and the results just as mixed. Suddenly, Caroline is finding she may have discovered a whole new definition of neighborly…