In the 90s …

texting involved paper and a pen …

… our selfies were Polaroids ...

… our favorite music was on mix tapes.

Sex was dangerous, music was raw, and falling in love felt nostalgic.

We were friends and lovers.

We thought we knew everything.

We knew nothing.

We were here.

Set in the early 1990s, a time before the internet, social media, and smart phones, We Were Here is the prequel to Geoducks Are For Lovers. This book can be read as a standalone.

"This story has it all! Just like a mixed tape; we get a dose of steamy romance, angsty ballads and sweet love songs woven together in a compelling, heartwarming and sometimes heartwrenching journey of self-exploration." Helena Hunting, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author



Excerpt:

Selah, Freshman Year

“Miss Elmore.”

Great. Despite most definitely being outside of class and off campus, he’d reverted to formal names.

“Mr. Vincent.”

“I’m surprised to see you here.” He ignored introductions to his friend.

“I could say the same. I didn’t realize you lived in Olympia.”

“I don’t.”

Geez, this conversation couldn’t be more boring. Maybe his companion was friendly. I stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Selah, one of Mr. Vincent’s students at Evergreen.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Kevin.” If someone could be described as beige, he was that person. Nothing remarkable about him except how unremarkable he looked. “Are you taking Jason’s sex class?”

Thankfully, I remained composed enough not to swallow my tongue. “Is that how he’s describing it? Professor?” I held my gaze steady on Jason’s face. I swore I saw his cheeks color with pink.

“Kevin.” His voice lowered, stern and threatening.

Kevin’s grin told me he enjoyed teasing Jason. They must have been old friends. “Fine, are you in Professor Vincent’s biology class?”

“I am. I’m hoping for an A.”

Kevin’s clever eyes swept over me. “What year are you?”

“First.”

Jason groaned while Kevin nodded and asked, “Tell me, Selah, has anyone ever called you Lolita before?”

Now my own cheeks heated. My skirt suddenly felt too short—the gap between it and my boots exposing a lot of fishnet covered skin. Or it could have been my short pigtails. I realized all I needed was a lollipop.

“Can’t say it’s happened before, Kevin.”

Clearly, Kevin knew my game. Or maybe Jason’s. I’d never thought he could be the type to seduce his students. As far as I knew, this class was his first teaching job.

“How did you get in here?” Jason changed the subject. “Fake ID?”

Busted. “No one carded us.”

“Doesn’t make you legal.”

“Are you going to call the police? Have us arrested and handcuffed?” It might have been the vodka, but I decided to be bold and push him. “Are you into handcuffs, Professor?”

Jason choked on his beer, coughing to clear his throat.

After making sure his friend wasn’t dying, Kevin laughed. “This is more entertaining than I imagined a college dive bar could be.”

I focused my attention on the non-choking friend. “What brings you to Olympia, Kevin?”

“I’m in politics.”

Jason found his voice again. “He’s an assistant to an assistant to a state senator.”

“Then you know all about impropriety.” I gave him a sweet smile.

“It’s been a political tradition since the Founding Fathers.” Kevin raised his glass. “I like you. Care to join us?”

Jason set his beer on the table. “I can’t be seen drinking with students. Kevin, shut up.” He pointed at me. “You return to your booth and your friends, and we’ll pretend we never ran into each other.”

“Yes, sir.” I saluted him. “Can I ask one question first?”

“If he doesn’t answer, I will.” Kevin gave me a wicked grin like a wolf in beige clothing.



About Daisy Prescott:

USA Today Bestselling Author Daisy Prescott writes romantic comedies with heart.

Her Modern Love Stories feature characters in their thirties and forties finding and rediscovering love in unexpected and humorous ways. Her Wingmen books star regular guys who often have beards, drive trucks, and love deeply once they fall.

Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband and an imaginary house goat. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.

To learn more about Daisy and her writing, sign up for her mailing list here: eepurl.com/xhXb5. Send her an email at: daisyauthor@gmail.com Or chat with her on Twitter (@daisy_prescott) and Facebook: /daisyprescottauthorpage, and follow her on Instagram: /daisyprescott

 


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