About this ebook
What if you fall for someone, but you're already in a wonderful relationship with someone else?
Emma has been dating John casually for the past six months. But when she meets Carlos, there's instant attraction… and since she and John haven't had the exclusivity conversation yet, then why not date both men simultaneously?
Emma didn't anticipate that both men would want to take their relationship with her to the next level, and now she has to choose between the two men in her life… or does she?
About the series...
"A Choice Between Two" is Book 1 in the Polyamorous Passions series.
Polyamorous Passions follows the lives of three best friends as they each embark on their own journeys into consensual non-monogamy. Books 1—3 focus on Emma, Books 4—6 will focus on Helen, and Books 7—9 will focus on Scarlett.
This series is suitable for anyone interested in real-life polyamory, open relationships, ethical non-monogamy, feminism, positive female friendships, alternatives to monogamy and monogamous relationships, and explorations of sexuality. Includes explicit language and sexual situations; intended for mature audiences. This novella is approx. 23,000 words in length.
About the author...
Sagan Morrow has a degree in Rhetoric, Writing & Communication, with a decade of experience as a businesswoman, blogger, and copywriter across a variety of industries. Based in Winnipeg, Canada, Sagan is an amateur burlesque dancer and identifies as polyamorous.
Sagan has authored two business books for freelancers and teaches online courses to empower new freelancers as they grow their own successful businesses. This is her first work of fiction.
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Book preview
A Choice Between Two - Sagan Morrow
A CHOICE BETWEEN TWO: Polyamorous Passions, Book 1
By Sagan Morrow
What if you fall for someone, but you’re already in a wonderful relationship with someone else?
Emma has been dating John casually for the past six months. But when she meets Carlos, there’s instant attraction... and since she and John haven’t had the exclusivity conversation yet, then why not date both men simultaneously?
Emma didn’t anticipate that both men would want to take their relationship with her to the next level, and now she has to choose between the two men in her life... or does she?
Note: While reading this story, you can tune into the special A Choice Between Two soundtrack at SaganMorrow.com/playlist1 (the complete list of songs is available at the back of this book!).
A Choice Between Two is Book 1 in the Polyamorous Passions series.
Polyamorous Passions follows the lives of three best friends as they each embark on their own journeys into consensual non-monogamy. Books 1—3 focus on Emma, Books 4—6 will focus on Helen, and Books 7—9 will focus on Scarlett. Each novella can be enjoyed as a stand-alone.
This contemporary new adult series is suitable for anyone interested in real-life polyamory and open relationships, positive female relationships, alternatives to monogamy and monogamous relationships, and explorations of sexuality.
Connect with the author: @Saganlives on Twitter and Instagram.
Get updates on new book releases, access sample chapters, and learn more about the author at SaganMorrow.com/books.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any likeness to actual persons and events is purely coincidental. The views of the characters do not necessarily reflect the views of the author.
Please note that the Polyamorous Passions series uses sex-positive language and both reclaims and embraces terms such as smut
and slutty.
All rights reserved. This book is not to be reproduced or distributed without express written permission from the author.
Dedicated to Fiona, and lovers of romance everywhere...
Chapter 1
If she had expected anything from the party, it sure as hell wasn’t this. But perhaps that was part of the issue... Emma never really went into these corporate company events with any kind of expectations. And she’d been to a lot of them: her rank within the recruiting firm she worked at meant the generic invitations were often passed to her when corporations sent them along. So she did her due diligence and did the company facetime gig.
Once you’d been to one of these things—all amounting to roughly the same, even when they were varyingly referred to as company parties
or networking events
or once, nauseatingly, celebratory shindig
—you’d pretty much been to them all. Same crappy buffet-style food. Same annoying lines for the open bar (although, she had to admit, at least there was an open bar. It was the only reason she kept agreeing to be her company’s mascot at these events). Same glazed expressions as everyone made small talk in between discreetly looking at their phones, either in the hopes that they’d received a text message from a more interesting person, or to check the clock to see whether they’d stayed an appropriate amount of time and could therefore politely excuse themselves from an excruciatingly boring evening.
So, Emma mused, reaching for a mini cornbread as a platter-carrying server walked by, perhaps I do go into these events with my own set of... very low expectations.
No other event had been quite like this one, however. Between the performance art taking place at the beginning of the evening and the increasingly heated, whispered discussion currently happening amongst company executives on the other side of the room, Emma figured it would be some time before she forgot about this party.
Striving for nonchalance, she strolled closer to the company executives on the pretence of admiring a giant painting on the wall. She knew she should mind her own business, but god, she was bored. How else was she supposed to entertain herself at one of these things? And anyway, if they wanted a private conversation, then they probably shouldn’t be having such a public argument, she reasoned in a weak attempt to shove the mild sense of guilt down. Trying not to make it too obvious that she was straining to overhear their conversation, Emma absently popped the entire mini cornbread in her mouth and began chewing.
And chewing.
All right, my low expectations have legitimate foundations to them, she thought to herself. Crappy, overly-dry food: check. It was a good thing she always made a beeline for the bar upon arriving at these events. Emma took the last swig of wine from the bottom of her glass, wishing she hadn’t been sucking it down quite so quickly earlier in the evening, but it didn’t help. It turned out the mini cornbread wasn’t so mini
after all. If she’d been paying attention to her food rather than trying to eavesdrop on the argument, she might have realized it wasn’t exactly a one-bite sort of thing.
Feeling ridiculously like a cow munching away on grass, Emma stared intently at the painting in front of her without seeing it. She raised her hand in front of her lips in an unsuccessful attempt at concealing the cornbread that threatened to spill from her mouth. She could feel her cheeks burning. Good thing she didn’t know anyone at this event. And then...
Would you like some water?
Emma glanced up in the direction of the concerned voice. The man—a tall drink of water himself, if she’d ever seen one—stood before her and held out his half-filled glass. The concern from his voice stretched to a beautiful pair of dark brown eyes, even as his lips twitched with obvious amusement.
She snorted, biting back laughter, and nodded wordlessly. His face broke into a kind grin as Emma took the glass and gulped, turning the dry cornbread into mush she could more easily swallow.
Brown Eyes took a step back to survey the painting, giving her an opportunity to watch him out of the corner of her eye as she continued to chew and force the cornbread mush down her throat. He was an attractive man, there was no doubt about that. With short-cropped brown hair and a muscular build visible beneath his tailored, cream linen shirt, he could have passed for an army guy, were it not for the ease with which he stood.
In fact, she realized, for all that Brown Eyes was a good foot taller than her and no doubt considerably stronger, his demeanour might be the least threatening that she’d ever seen in a man. Perhaps it was the appreciation in which he admired the painting, or how his stepping away from her had subtly given her the choice to turn away without speaking again (a choice which, frustratingly, too many men insisted on monopolizing). Or perhaps it was simply the gentle, relaxed self-assurance in his stance. Regardless, she had to confess she was intrigued.
Of course, it might have been that strong