Hi – I’m Cass Peterson and I’m here to tell you a bit about my brand new novella, One Night
in San Francisco. It’s my first with Tirgearr and it’s been amazing fun to work on. When the
idea of writing an erotic romance novella was suggested, I couldn’t quite see where to start,
but the thought of being able to choose a city and base the story there over twenty four short
hours was too tempting to resist.
San Francisco is the city of my dreams. It has everything – hills with heart-stopping views,
blue, blue ocean, high rise bridges (especially the Golden gate) that sweep across the skyline,
the grim contrast of Alcatraz, orgasmic clam chowder, Fisherman’s Wharf to wander along …
I could go on forever.
Nicky and Liam meet of the night flight to San Fran. They have very different reasons for
their visits but something in common – both of them have just come out of disappointing
relationships and they are incredibly horny. The attraction is instantaneous, especially as
Liam notices that Nicky is taking matters into her own hands when she thinks everyone is
asleep and is satisfying herself very efficiently. But things start to go badly wrong when
Nicky loses track of Liam before she can find out if there might be more for them than a hot
night on a plane.
I loved writing this book and the cover says it all about the magic of San Francisco. How
could you not fall in love and have amazing sex there? Go on …read all about it. You might
want to try it for yourself one day. Or one night.
There was a taxi rank in the arrivals lounge and I headed straight for it. A huge blonde
haired man in a chauffeur’s uniform was leaning next to it, holding a sign that said Liam
Morrisey. Was that ‘my’ Liam? I fished in my bag for his card and compared the surnames.
Yes, that was him. I grinned at the man, wishing I was going with him too, but he just looked
over my shoulder, scanning the crowds hopefully. Suddenly, gang of teenagers who’d been
pushing and shoving their way through the airport crashed into the back of me and I fell head
first onto the floor, landing right inside the taxi rank.
‘Hey, you guys – come back here and apologise to this lady,’ shouted the man holding
Liam’s name. He sprinted after them but they had made a quick getaway at the sight of the
giant chasing them. He came back as I was getting to my feet, helped by one of the waiting
‘You ok, doll?’ he asked, brushing my jacket down helpfully, ‘You took a bad tumble
‘I’ve radioed through to security – they’ll get ‘em, Clint,’ called one of the women
manning the taxi desks, ‘we’d better get you fixed up with a cab, honey. Are you free, John?’
The man who’d helped me up nodded and took my case from me as I smiled my thanks
up at Liam’s driver.
‘I bet they’re relieved you didn’t catch them,’ I said, ‘But it was really nice of you to
‘Love your accent, doll, it’s real cute. Take care of this one, John – she’s gonna need a
bourbon and soda before she hits the sights.’
The thought of a drink – not whisky but a large, chilled glass of Californian white – was
hugely tempting. Maybe Liam and I would have wine with our chowder. Or maybe not if we
were catching the ferry to Alcatraz. That might be a recipe for disaster. I thanked Clint again
and followed my own driver out of the building.
My hotel was just as it had looked in the pictures that Jack had emailed. It was on the
front street of Fisherman’s Wharf, a brick built extravaganza with a nautical theme – ships’
steering wheels and a blue and gold theme everywhere, like sailors’ uniforms … and like
Liam’s card. I reached into my bag to fetch it out again as I waited in the queue at reception.
My hand scrabbled around in my bag feeling lip gloss, comb, and the handful of useful items
I couldn’t travel without. No card. I must have put it in my wallet. When had I last looked at
I opened my wallet and checked every pocket. Nothing. A sick feeling of apprehension
crept over me. I couldn’t have lost it, could I? As I stood rooted to the spot I remembered the
jostling boys, the fall in the taxi rank – Clint. My taxi man!
Abandoning my case, I ran to the front door, only to see John driving away. I waved and
shouted but all I got was a disdainful look from the doorman. Tears pricked my eyelids. Now
Nicky and Liam have only twenty four short hours to find out if their instantaneous attraction
can develop into something more than an electric mile-high fumble. San Francisco has
everything they need to put their previous disastrous relationships behind them but when
they lose touch with each other almost immediately, fate seems to have other ideas. As the
precious hours tick away, Liam moves heaven and earth to find the woman of his (filthiest)
dreams before she leaves the city. Will he get to her in time?
Cass Peterson is passionate about many things; her family, writing, chocolate, wine, cake,
curry, gin, sunlit beaches, moonlit bedrooms and good novels to name but a few. At the
moment she spends a good chunk of her time working on the day job, but she tries to fit the
other passions in as often as possible.
She is a cat lover, an all-weather walker, a reader and reviewer of contemporary romance and
an enthusiastic cook.
Cass likes to laugh, especially at Bill Bailey, Victoria Wood, Michael Palin and Eddie Izzard.
She would happily live next door to any of these comedians.