Lynn Romaine
Goodreads Author
Born
in Detroit, The United States
Website
Twitter
Genre
Influences
Landmark Education
Member Since
January 2008
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/lynnromaine
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WANDER: A two year journal of a woman who chose to downsize her life and follow her dreams
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published
2014
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2 editions
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Desert Rose: The Search for My Lost Lesbian Aunt
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published
2014
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Leave No Trace
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published
2005
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3 editions
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Long Run Home
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published
2009
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4 editions
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Night Noise
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published
2011
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3 editions
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Blind Spot
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published
2006
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3 editions
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LITTLE ROAD BOOK
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published
2013
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THE WIDER ROAD: More Tales From A Solo Woman On The Road
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RULES OF THE ROAD: A Guide for Women Traveling the Back Roads of America With A Trailer
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WANDER FEVER: The journal of a woman, heading for her 80’s, still wandering.
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Lynn’s Recent Updates
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Lynn Romaine
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Lynn Romaine
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Topics Mentioning This Author
| topics | posts | views | last activity | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Around the World ...: Michigan | 18 | 346 | Apr 05, 2018 06:20AM |
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Do you write fiction? Non-fiction? Fantasy? Horror? Romance? Chick-lit? Whatever you write, it's welcomed here. Anyone and everyone can hang out at th ...more





























Sophie took a deep breath, averted her gaze from the stares of men around her, and focused on him as she moved across the room. He had turned away from her now, his drink sitting in front of him, a pack of cigarettes at his right hand.
Someone snatched at her skirt as she passed the last table, but she swatted at the sweaty hand and kept moving. Her legs trembled slightly by the time she made it to the empty bar stool on his right and sat down. She sensed he knew she was there.
“This occupied?” Her words were almost inaudible against the background din of voices and music but he answered with a grunt and a shake of his head. He was drinking straight shots of something and he smelled of whiskey, leather, and male.
Now what? The rules for picking someone up in a bar were so far outside of her realm of experience they were nonexistent. The bartender came over and pointed silently to her empty glass.
“Stoli on the rocks, please.” Stoli was her mother's favorite drink, and she tried to picture her mother's surprise at her daughter throwing back Russian vodka in a bar. She reached into her bag but a hand reached over to stop her.
“I'll get it.”
“Thanks.” She reached for her glass and saw her hand tremble.
She stole a glance at him. He looked rough and dangerous with a dark shadow of stubble obvious even in the darkness. There was something about him, although unreadable in his face, that exuded a sense of safety at odds with his appearance. She'd never known anyone remotely like him. The few men in her life had been safe, academic types with thin, aesthetic faces or the smiling nephews of enthusiastic neighbors determined to find her a man. They'd always been casual and uncomplicated affairs. She'd never wanted anything more.
How had she come from that to this night, sitting in a dark bar filled with people she didn't know and would never know, hoping for something from this man?
“Jack Roselli.” He turned and held out his hand. It was callused and warm against her cold fingers.