Wild in the country book one

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"Are you ready yet, DesirЋe?" her mother called from down the hall. "You don't want to be late."

DesirЋe patted her golden hair into place, smoothed her modest, Sunday suit down over her flat belly, and adjusted her bra again. Her breasts were a liability to her, big and melon-like, the kind of feature that screamed "Slut!" to everyone who looked on her. That was why she always wore a jacket to conceal them when she went to church. It was because Pastor Hemmings, who was also the local MD with a practice on Main Street, depended on her to sing a spiritual aria – or two – at every weekly meeting that she was in such a hurry this morning. She had been out late with Mark, her fiancee.

Since DesirЋe had moved to Pickford's Meadows and begun singing for the pastor's congregation, attendance had grown so much that he had begged her to make her vocal contribution a regular performance. She didn't mind, for she rarely missed Sunday meetings. Indeed, when they had moved from Chicago to the country, Thurston Mitchell, her father, had chosen the community based on the church that they regularly attended at home.

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