He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster.
And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Mercury Striking by Rebecca Zanetti
Standalone - Scorpius Syndrome #1
Release - January 26, 2016
Genre - Romantic Suspense / post-apocalyptic
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 4
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 384 pages
Publisher - Zebra Books
Release - January 26, 2016
Genre - Romantic Suspense / post-apocalyptic
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 4
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 384 pages
Publisher - Zebra Books
Buy it here: https://amzn.to/3ialOqW
After a killer outbreak, a doctor searches for the one man who can help her find a cure.
The deadly Scorpius Syndrome has decimated North America. Now the few remaining survivors struggle to avoid infection and rebuild society. Dr. Lynne Harmony believes she can find a cure—but she knows she can’t do it alone. With nothing but rumors to lead her, Dr. Lynne Harmony has trekked across a nightmare landscape to find one man—a mysterious, damaged legend who protects the weak and leads the strong.
Former military man Jax Mercury is more than muscle and firepower—and in post-plague L.A., he’s Lynne’s only hope. But with powerful forces searching for Lynne, and some in Jax’s camp desperate enough to betray him, they’ll have to keep close if they want to survive.
Jax Mercury was a military man. Once a gangbanger, he was now the protector of so many survivors. He was just trying to keep everyone alive, defending against other territories and gangs who wanted to take the meager supplies they had. He became a hero without intention. Oh... and he was delicious!
She'd seen good-looking men before. This one took handsomeness to deadly in a way that stirred her blood too much.Then there's Lynne. Once the head of her department at the CDC, she was seen as the reason why the human race was becoming extinct. With a distinctive blue heart due to the Scorpius bacteria, she was viewed as either the harbinger of death... or the cure. Hunted, she believed that her only hope was finding Jax and taking advantage of his legendary heroics.
...tall and powerful, strength among ruin. Sexy and masculine, and just as damaged as she.
Lynne Harmony was stunning as well as desperately wounded. Delicate and fierce.There was plenty of action and intrigue to be found here. One particular death scene left me stunned. I hate when a character I adore ends up dead ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
There was no love lost between Lynn and I for most of this story. She kept secrets, tried to manipulate Jax, and turned me off in too many ways. It took me a while to warm up to her, however, I did by the end. I absolutely loved Jax! He was in denial about so many things, including the hero he had become. He was sexy, protective, dominant, brave, and determined. There's just something about an alpha ex-military hero done right that really does it for me. And Zanetti did it right here.
Despair hungered in the darkness, not lingering, not languishing . . . but waiting to bite. No longer the little brother of rage, despair had taken over the night, ever present, an actor instead of an afterthought.
Lynne picked her way along the deserted twelve-lane interstate, allowing the weak light from the moon to guide her. An unnatural silence hung heavy over the barren land. Rusting carcasses of vehicles lined the sides; otherwise, the once-vibrant 405 was dead.
Her months of hiding had taught her stealth. Prey needed stealth, as did the hunter.
She was both.
The tennis shoes she’d stolen from an abandoned thrift store protected her feet from the cracked asphalt, while a breeze scented with death and decomposing vegetation lifted her hair. The smell had saturated the wind as she’d trekked across the country.
The world was littered with dead bodies and devoid of souls.
A click echoed in the darkness. About time. Predators, both human and animal, crouched in every shadow, but she’d made it closer to what used to be Los Angeles than she’d hoped.
A strobe light hit her full on, rendering sight impossible. The miracle of functioning batteries brought pain. She closed her eyes. They’d either kill her or not. Either way, no need to go blind. “I want to see Mercury.” Since she’d aimed for the center of Mercury’s known territory, hopefully she’d find him and not some rogue gang.
Silence. Then several more clicks. Guns of some type. They’d closed in silently, just as well trained as she’d heard. As she’d hoped.
She forced strength into her voice. “You don’t want to kill me without taking me to Mercury first.” Jax Mercury, to be exact. If he still lived. If not, she was screwed anyway.
“Why would we do that?” A voice from the darkness, angry and near.
She squinted, blinking until her pupils narrowed. The bright light exposed her and concealed them, weakening her knees, but she gently set her small backpack on the ground. She had to clear her throat to force out sound. “I’m Lynne Harmony.”
Gasps, low and male, filled the abyss around her. “Bullshit,” a voice hissed from her left.
She tilted her head toward the voice, and then slowly, so slowly they wouldn’t be spooked, she unbuttoned her shirt. No catcalls, no suggestive responses followed. Shrugging her shoulders, she dropped the cotton to the ground, facing the light.
She hadn’t worn a bra, but she doubted the echoing exhales of shock were from her size Bs. More likely the shimmering blue outline of her heart caught their attention. Yeah, she was a freak. Typhoid Mary in the body of a woman who’d failed. Big time. But she might be able to save the men surrounding her. “So. Jax Mercury. Now.”
One man stepped closer. Gang tattoos lined his face, inked tears showing his kills. He might have been thirty, he might have been sixty. Regardless, he was dangerous, and he smelled like dust combined with body odor. A common smell in the plague-riddled world. Eyeing her chest, he quickly crossed himself. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”
“Not even close.” A silent overpass loomed a few yards to the north, and her voice echoed off the concrete. The piercing light assaulted her, spinning the background thick and dark. Her temples pounded, and her hollow stomach ached. Wearily, she reached down and grabbed her shirt, shrugging it back on. She figured the “take me to your leader” line would get her shot. “Do you want to live or not?”
He met her gaze, his scarred upper lip twisting. “Yes.”
Lynne picked her way along the deserted twelve-lane interstate, allowing the weak light from the moon to guide her. An unnatural silence hung heavy over the barren land. Rusting carcasses of vehicles lined the sides; otherwise, the once-vibrant 405 was dead.
Her months of hiding had taught her stealth. Prey needed stealth, as did the hunter.
She was both.
The tennis shoes she’d stolen from an abandoned thrift store protected her feet from the cracked asphalt, while a breeze scented with death and decomposing vegetation lifted her hair. The smell had saturated the wind as she’d trekked across the country.
The world was littered with dead bodies and devoid of souls.
A click echoed in the darkness. About time. Predators, both human and animal, crouched in every shadow, but she’d made it closer to what used to be Los Angeles than she’d hoped.
A strobe light hit her full on, rendering sight impossible. The miracle of functioning batteries brought pain. She closed her eyes. They’d either kill her or not. Either way, no need to go blind. “I want to see Mercury.” Since she’d aimed for the center of Mercury’s known territory, hopefully she’d find him and not some rogue gang.
Silence. Then several more clicks. Guns of some type. They’d closed in silently, just as well trained as she’d heard. As she’d hoped.
She forced strength into her voice. “You don’t want to kill me without taking me to Mercury first.” Jax Mercury, to be exact. If he still lived. If not, she was screwed anyway.
“Why would we do that?” A voice from the darkness, angry and near.
She squinted, blinking until her pupils narrowed. The bright light exposed her and concealed them, weakening her knees, but she gently set her small backpack on the ground. She had to clear her throat to force out sound. “I’m Lynne Harmony.”
Gasps, low and male, filled the abyss around her. “Bullshit,” a voice hissed from her left.
She tilted her head toward the voice, and then slowly, so slowly they wouldn’t be spooked, she unbuttoned her shirt. No catcalls, no suggestive responses followed. Shrugging her shoulders, she dropped the cotton to the ground, facing the light.
She hadn’t worn a bra, but she doubted the echoing exhales of shock were from her size Bs. More likely the shimmering blue outline of her heart caught their attention. Yeah, she was a freak. Typhoid Mary in the body of a woman who’d failed. Big time. But she might be able to save the men surrounding her. “So. Jax Mercury. Now.”
One man stepped closer. Gang tattoos lined his face, inked tears showing his kills. He might have been thirty, he might have been sixty. Regardless, he was dangerous, and he smelled like dust combined with body odor. A common smell in the plague-riddled world. Eyeing her chest, he quickly crossed himself. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”
“Not even close.” A silent overpass loomed a few yards to the north, and her voice echoed off the concrete. The piercing light assaulted her, spinning the background thick and dark. Her temples pounded, and her hollow stomach ached. Wearily, she reached down and grabbed her shirt, shrugging it back on. She figured the “take me to your leader” line would get her shot. “Do you want to live or not?”
He met her gaze, his scarred upper lip twisting. “Yes.”
Visit https://rebeccazanetti.com/ for more information!
One day, I WILL have one of these recap posts up by the beginning of the month. That's my goal to complete by the end of the year.
Some of you, those who are actually subscribed to this blog, may have noticed that my feed is now being published by follow.it. I totally forgot to warn you when FeedBurner first sent out a message cancelling their broadcast service. I didn't really know where else to turn until suddenly, this company sent me an email offering to smoothly transition my subscribers for free. I'm not sure if I'll stay with them or not. I've been thinking of changing things up and instead of having a mail service deliver every post, I'd have a monthly newsletter instead, offering posts, recommendations and giveaways.
Anyhoozit, let me know what you think of this new service and if you'd be down for a change up (if and when I plan it out). I'm the worst. I know.
Okay, so for the month of June, I actually did quite a bit of reading. I think (I'm the worst at verifying this ish) that it was my best reading month of the year. YAY ME!! So without further ado, here's what my month was like:
The Best Books of June
The other books I read were:
* Audrey by Sean-Paul Thomas (4 ★)
* Knight's Redemption by Sherilee Gray (4 ★)
* The Warlord Wants Forever by Kresley Cole (4 ★)
* Boomtown by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Highway Don't Care by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Another One Bites the Dust by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Last Day of My Life by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Texas Tornado by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* I Don't Dance by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Rebel's Karma by Rebecca Zanetti (4 ★)
* Night Pleasures by Sherrilyn Kenyon (4 ★)
* Lights to My Siren by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Drakon's Promise by N.J. Walters (3 ★)
* The Scotch King by Penelope Sky (3 ★)
* Keys to My Cuffs by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* Bless Me, Father by Crimson Syn (3 ★)
* Life to My Flight by Lani Lynn Vale (4 ★)
* A Debt Repaid by N. Isabelle Blanco (0 ★)
Told ya I read a lot! Most of it was by Lani Lynn Vale (obvs) and I'm sure I'll be reading more of her books in July.
Book Haul
Ebooks:
Paperback:
Added to my TBR
I have a bunch of to-read lists. Goodreads, Amazon, paper, glass jar, etc. I've tried really hard not to add to any of them and although I do fail to keep this number to zero each month, I'm not doing too badly. Okay, fine, I obviously didn't too well on not adding anything to my list this month.
My Reading Stats
I read 22 books and 6367 pages this month. Again... YAY ME!! Most of these reads came from my TBR, which is awesome, meaning I'm tackling at least one of my bookish goals.
What Else?
Aside from switching feeds, there's nothing really new to talk about. My life is pretty boring as I wait to get my second Pfizer shot. I'm just here reading when I get the chance, trying to tackle my endless to-read lists, one book at a time, and hoping to keep my daughters engaged for the summer.
Thanks for sticking around until the end :D I'm still looking for book recs, so if you have one you think I'll love, please let me know. I'm looking for extremely sexy Fantasy or Paranormal. And when I say sexy, I do mean descriptive to explicit scenes please. I'm grown and I don't need my sex to be watered down.
What are you looking forward to for June? I hope it's as incredible as we deserve it to be!
Talk soon,
xo, Natalie
It's funny how a year can change your world. And it's amazing how a single breath can take a life, give a life, and sometimes... save a life.
She is my breath of life.
She is my breath of life.
Add it to Goodreads / Find it on Amazon
Standalone
Release - September 25, 2019
Genre - Contemporary Romance / single dad
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 3 out of 5
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 418 pages
Publisher - Indie
Release - September 25, 2019
Genre - Contemporary Romance / single dad
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 3 out of 5
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 418 pages
Publisher - Indie
Dr. Elijah Hawkins needs … something.
After his wife jumps headfirst into a midlife crisis, he’s left with his young son, Roman, and a lot of unanswered questions.
That something turns out to be a someone—Dorothy Mayhem, nursing student, patient transporter, reckless driver, and emu owner.
Dorothy studies humans, the neurotypical kind, through books and television. Then she emulates their behavioral patterns to fit in with her peers.
But nothing can prepare her for Dr. Elijah Hawkins.
Single dad.
Brilliant pediatric oncologist.
And the sexiest doctor at the hospital.
When his failed attempts at asking her out turn into a string of playdates with his son, Dorothy finds herself unexpectedly enamored with the boy and his father.
And that’s a problem, a huge one, because Elijah’s ex-wife is a famous plastic surgeon—and Dorothy’s idol.
Newly divorced, Dr. Elijah Hawkins was trying to figure out his new normal. Then along came Dorothy Mayhem, a woman who couldn't be more different from his ex if she tried. She made him feel young again, feel joy again. She made him smile and made everything okay.
Dorothy put Roman above everyone else. And in doing so, she made me love her in a way that rips the air from my lungs, shackles my heart, and claims my soul.
And honestly, for the most part, this story was perfectly lovely.
I loved every moment spent with little Roman and his Dorfee. They were so cute together. I also enjoyed every time that Dorothy misread a situation or responded in a way that I didn't expect.
What I didn't like? The times when I couldn't decide who Eli loved more... his ex who he was desperate to have back... or Dorothy. I also couldn't stand how much everyone compromised and accommodated Dorothy without her even attempting to do the same. I'm pretty sure she wasn't able to, but that fact didn't make her any less frustrating.
She offers enough emotional reassurance to make any desperate man jump off the side of a tall building.
Jewel E. Ann sure knows how to write! I think I highlighted practically 40% of this book because I was swooning over so many words. I fell in love with these characters... hard ... and I'm a fan of how things ended on such a mature note.
“You can call me Eli.”
She swallows hard. “I don’t actually think I can.”
“Why not?” I force my gaze away from her mouth.
The second our eyes meet, she averts her attention to her feet. “Because you’re half of the Hathaway-Hawkins duo.”
This is a new one to me. “I’m divorced.”
“I know. I …” She makes an attempt to look at me, but her attention shifts to my temple then maybe my ear. “I mean you’re a brilliant doctor, and Dr. Hathaway is too—so brilliant. God, she’s just phenomenal. Like there are no words. But still … you change the lives of young children. You save them. You’re what every young person entering the medical field can only dream of becoming. You’ve earned the title. I can’t call you by your name. It’s too personal. I don’t know … almost intimate.”
She has Julie on a really high pedestal. Me? Down a few pegs. Sounds about right for my life at the moment. It’s not that Julie doesn’t deserve to be on the pedestal. No matter how much I hate her, I still love her. And her skills as a pediatric plastic surgeon are unmatched. She deserves Dorothy’s admiration.
But I don’t want to talk about medicine, accolades, and saving lives. I know … I know … how terrible of me. Sorry, but I need something for myself. Something personal and maybe a little selfish.
Definitely intimate.
“I don’t need a babysitter for Roman.”
She jerks her head back, giving me her full attention, eyes squinted, gaze locked to mine. “What?”
I trap my top lip between my teeth, drowning in coconuts as my heart races, sending ample blood to all regions of my body. God … I just want—need—to kiss her.
“Oh jeez …” She shakes her head, closing her eyes for a breath. “You invited me to dinner to … flirt.” Her eyes open to their widest point.
A tiny laugh escapes me. I can’t help it. Everything about this woman feels like a rebirth. “I invited you to dinner because Roman really likes you. And I just can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for him. You’re so generous.”
Gah! I suck at this!
What is my problem? Yes. The answer is yes! Yes, Dorothy, I invited you over to flirt, maybe even kiss. And other things …
“Oh.” She takes a step backward, stumbling a bit as the front door catches her, and more embarrassment tints her cheeks. “Well, now I feel stupid. Yes, of course you invited me here because Roman likes me. Duh. Now I just look like an idiot for assuming you wanted to flirt with me. And really, no need to thank me. My generosity is selfish. It makes me feel good to do nice things. That’s all. And really, you’ve bought me coffee and made me dinner again. It’s like I should be thanking you again. But that’s probably weird. So … I’ll just go now.”
Really, really weird shit goes through my mind as she fidgets. Dr. Hawkins is nowhere to be found. Neither is Roman’s dad. Raging-puberty-hormones Eli Hawkins invades my head—both of them really. And I just want to kiss Dorothy. That’s the PG version of my thoughts. Most of them are R-rated. Worse than the R-rating. All I can think about are the ways Dorothy and I can be generous with each other, leading to never-ending thank-you’s that don’t involve stationary, replacement scrubs, superhero capes, pasta dinners, lunch boxes … or clothing.
“Should we call it even? No more thank-you’s,” I suggest.
“Okay.” She lifts her gaze, eyes going a little cross-eyed like her focus is centered on the bridge of my nose.
“Okay.” I release a slow breath, but it does very little to relax all of my body. “Can I ask your age?” I’m not sure why I’ve been so chicken about asking her age. I think it worries me that she’s too young, and I’ll feel like a dirty old man having really inappropriate thoughts about her.
“I’m thirty. Why?”
“You just look young.”
“I wear massive amounts of sunscreen.”
I nod slowly.
Just kiss her, you big chicken!
What if she doesn’t want to be kissed by me? Or flirt with me? I internally laugh at the memory of her comment and at myself for being just as awkward. Why does something so simple have to be so complicated?
“I have a forty-five-minute drive home.”
And school the next day. Where is my head?
Oh, that’s right …
“Of course. I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
“Okay.” She smiles.
I love her okay’s. They feel like more than the average okay.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Have you not closed all of your rings?” She holds up her wrist, signaling to her watch.
I chuckle. “All rings were closed hours ago.”
“We could track each other. Share our rings. Did you know that?”
Rings. Kisses. Trips to the on-call room for sex.
For the love of God … get your shit together, Elijah!
“Never mind. That’s weird.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself just before opening the door and scurrying ten steps ahead of me. Her pace gains momentum with the hill of my driveway. My long strides catch up to her at the bottom of it. She looks both ways and bolts across the street to her car, clicks the locks, and opens her door.
“Goodnight!”
“Dorothy Mayhem … you’re killing me.”
She turns just before ducking into the driver’s seat.
“What do you mean?”
Resting my hands on my hips, I drop my chin in defeat and stare at my untied gray canvas shoes. “What if I did ask you to dinner tonight to … flirt?” I glance up, digging my teeth into my bottom lip on a slight cringe.
Her body remains stoic as her eyes shift from side to side, like she’s been caught on a hidden camera. “Well … then I wore the wrong outfit.” She refuses to look me in the eye.
“I think you look amazing.”
“Yes. But this is a playdate outfit. Maybe even one I’d wear to apply for a babysitter position. It’s fun, but wholesome. Practical and safe.”
I just want to spend one day in her head. Everything about her fascinates the hell out of me. The curiosity gives me such a high.
“Tell me about your flirting outfit.”
“Well …” She clears her throat, keeping her focus on the big hill leading out of my development. And of course … her cheeks are perfectly flushed as she talks to the wind. “Since Romeo was involved, I would have chosen my red dress with white stripes. It hits just below my knees, but it’s strapless. And I would have worn my blue cardigan with it and matching blue wedge sandals with straps that tie around my ankles. Flirty … but appropriate for young eyes.”
“And if Roman wouldn’t have been here tonight?” I stare at the side of her head, wondering if she’ll look at me again before driving home.
She narrows her eyes. “I would have taken off the cardigan after you invited me into your house.”
The picture she paints in my head does all kinds of wicked things to me. Why imagining her in a striped strapless dress has such a physical effect on me is a mystery. It’s not like she suggested showing up wearing nothing but high heels and a trench coat. Dorothy Mayhem possesses her own brand of seduction, and I’m completely entangled in every part of it.
“And in this scenario, would you have kissed me after I walked you to your car?”
She turns completely red. I feel certain even her toes hidden in those blue shoes have to be red. “You’re making fun of me.”
Her comment knocks me back a good ten steps, even if my body remains right next to her. Why would she say that?
She swallows hard. “I don’t actually think I can.”
“Why not?” I force my gaze away from her mouth.
The second our eyes meet, she averts her attention to her feet. “Because you’re half of the Hathaway-Hawkins duo.”
This is a new one to me. “I’m divorced.”
“I know. I …” She makes an attempt to look at me, but her attention shifts to my temple then maybe my ear. “I mean you’re a brilliant doctor, and Dr. Hathaway is too—so brilliant. God, she’s just phenomenal. Like there are no words. But still … you change the lives of young children. You save them. You’re what every young person entering the medical field can only dream of becoming. You’ve earned the title. I can’t call you by your name. It’s too personal. I don’t know … almost intimate.”
She has Julie on a really high pedestal. Me? Down a few pegs. Sounds about right for my life at the moment. It’s not that Julie doesn’t deserve to be on the pedestal. No matter how much I hate her, I still love her. And her skills as a pediatric plastic surgeon are unmatched. She deserves Dorothy’s admiration.
But I don’t want to talk about medicine, accolades, and saving lives. I know … I know … how terrible of me. Sorry, but I need something for myself. Something personal and maybe a little selfish.
Definitely intimate.
“I don’t need a babysitter for Roman.”
She jerks her head back, giving me her full attention, eyes squinted, gaze locked to mine. “What?”
I trap my top lip between my teeth, drowning in coconuts as my heart races, sending ample blood to all regions of my body. God … I just want—need—to kiss her.
“Oh jeez …” She shakes her head, closing her eyes for a breath. “You invited me to dinner to … flirt.” Her eyes open to their widest point.
A tiny laugh escapes me. I can’t help it. Everything about this woman feels like a rebirth. “I invited you to dinner because Roman really likes you. And I just can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for him. You’re so generous.”
Gah! I suck at this!
What is my problem? Yes. The answer is yes! Yes, Dorothy, I invited you over to flirt, maybe even kiss. And other things …
“Oh.” She takes a step backward, stumbling a bit as the front door catches her, and more embarrassment tints her cheeks. “Well, now I feel stupid. Yes, of course you invited me here because Roman likes me. Duh. Now I just look like an idiot for assuming you wanted to flirt with me. And really, no need to thank me. My generosity is selfish. It makes me feel good to do nice things. That’s all. And really, you’ve bought me coffee and made me dinner again. It’s like I should be thanking you again. But that’s probably weird. So … I’ll just go now.”
Really, really weird shit goes through my mind as she fidgets. Dr. Hawkins is nowhere to be found. Neither is Roman’s dad. Raging-puberty-hormones Eli Hawkins invades my head—both of them really. And I just want to kiss Dorothy. That’s the PG version of my thoughts. Most of them are R-rated. Worse than the R-rating. All I can think about are the ways Dorothy and I can be generous with each other, leading to never-ending thank-you’s that don’t involve stationary, replacement scrubs, superhero capes, pasta dinners, lunch boxes … or clothing.
“Should we call it even? No more thank-you’s,” I suggest.
“Okay.” She lifts her gaze, eyes going a little cross-eyed like her focus is centered on the bridge of my nose.
“Okay.” I release a slow breath, but it does very little to relax all of my body. “Can I ask your age?” I’m not sure why I’ve been so chicken about asking her age. I think it worries me that she’s too young, and I’ll feel like a dirty old man having really inappropriate thoughts about her.
“I’m thirty. Why?”
“You just look young.”
“I wear massive amounts of sunscreen.”
I nod slowly.
Just kiss her, you big chicken!
What if she doesn’t want to be kissed by me? Or flirt with me? I internally laugh at the memory of her comment and at myself for being just as awkward. Why does something so simple have to be so complicated?
“I have a forty-five-minute drive home.”
And school the next day. Where is my head?
Oh, that’s right …
“Of course. I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
“Okay.” She smiles.
I love her okay’s. They feel like more than the average okay.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Have you not closed all of your rings?” She holds up her wrist, signaling to her watch.
I chuckle. “All rings were closed hours ago.”
“We could track each other. Share our rings. Did you know that?”
Rings. Kisses. Trips to the on-call room for sex.
For the love of God … get your shit together, Elijah!
“Never mind. That’s weird.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself just before opening the door and scurrying ten steps ahead of me. Her pace gains momentum with the hill of my driveway. My long strides catch up to her at the bottom of it. She looks both ways and bolts across the street to her car, clicks the locks, and opens her door.
“Goodnight!”
“Dorothy Mayhem … you’re killing me.”
She turns just before ducking into the driver’s seat.
“What do you mean?”
Resting my hands on my hips, I drop my chin in defeat and stare at my untied gray canvas shoes. “What if I did ask you to dinner tonight to … flirt?” I glance up, digging my teeth into my bottom lip on a slight cringe.
Her body remains stoic as her eyes shift from side to side, like she’s been caught on a hidden camera. “Well … then I wore the wrong outfit.” She refuses to look me in the eye.
“I think you look amazing.”
“Yes. But this is a playdate outfit. Maybe even one I’d wear to apply for a babysitter position. It’s fun, but wholesome. Practical and safe.”
I just want to spend one day in her head. Everything about her fascinates the hell out of me. The curiosity gives me such a high.
“Tell me about your flirting outfit.”
“Well …” She clears her throat, keeping her focus on the big hill leading out of my development. And of course … her cheeks are perfectly flushed as she talks to the wind. “Since Romeo was involved, I would have chosen my red dress with white stripes. It hits just below my knees, but it’s strapless. And I would have worn my blue cardigan with it and matching blue wedge sandals with straps that tie around my ankles. Flirty … but appropriate for young eyes.”
“And if Roman wouldn’t have been here tonight?” I stare at the side of her head, wondering if she’ll look at me again before driving home.
She narrows her eyes. “I would have taken off the cardigan after you invited me into your house.”
The picture she paints in my head does all kinds of wicked things to me. Why imagining her in a striped strapless dress has such a physical effect on me is a mystery. It’s not like she suggested showing up wearing nothing but high heels and a trench coat. Dorothy Mayhem possesses her own brand of seduction, and I’m completely entangled in every part of it.
“And in this scenario, would you have kissed me after I walked you to your car?”
She turns completely red. I feel certain even her toes hidden in those blue shoes have to be red. “You’re making fun of me.”
Her comment knocks me back a good ten steps, even if my body remains right next to her. Why would she say that?
Visit http://www.jeweleann.com/ for more information
"My happiness doesn't depend on you, but I'm happier when you are around me," he continues. "You are what makes my days brighter. I live for your voice, your laughter, and your smiles.
Add it to Goodreads / Find it on Amazon
Standalone - Against All Odds #1
Release - June 11, 2020
Genre - Contemporary Romance / enemies-to-lovers
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - THERE WAS NO SEX!
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 276 pages
Publisher - Indie
Release - June 11, 2020
Genre - Contemporary Romance / enemies-to-lovers
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - THERE WAS NO SEX!
Format/Source - Kindle purchase
Length - 276 pages
Publisher - Indie
Sex talk is my job. I’m an influencer. I run a popular blog where I give all kinds of dating tips, and girls all over the world thank me for helping them with their love lives.
I wish I could follow my own advice because my love life is totally dead. I just drunk texted my ex-boyfriend… except, I didn’t. That text ended up going to someone else.
Oops.
This new relationship is almost picture-perfect, just like my online life. I guess I give good… text.
He doesn’t have to put up with my colorful personality — as my hot next-door neighbor describes me. Or my messy schedule.
This long-distance relationship is the best thing that’s happened to me and I plan to keep it that way.
Until we agree to meet up, and I’m freaking out.
When he meets the real me, will he hate me forever?
Or will we be one day telling our grandkids about that wrong text, right love?
Persephone was a successful, yet broke, lifestyle and sex influencer. Her entire 'image' was based on the premise that we control and create our own happiness.
Ford was a successful, yet reclusive, programmer/inventor/entrepreneur? Due to his parents' acrimonious divorce, he grew up to have a very jaded perspective of love and relationships.
Together, these two were like oil and water. She believes in happily ever afters and soulmates. He believes in limited connections, small circles of trust, and reality. Yet, the more they're around each other, the more they're able to relate. The more time spent together, the more they start to be in sync. Suddenly, the wacky and colorful girl next door with unreasonable ideas about love is the most appealing person Ford has ever seen. And since Persy has been attracted to him from the moment she saw him, them being together should be a no-brainer.
But Persy's seriously falling for drunken text guy. The guy she's able to be herself with. The guy who seems to really see her. Who should she choose?
My only real issue with this story, why it didn't get five stars from me (because it was a really great story), is because Persy sometimes rubbed me the wrong way. She preached way too much for my liking. What works for you is all well and good, but please don't push your ideology onto someone else. Don't say that people are perfect the way they are, that we shouldn't try to change each other, while steady trying to change people. Hypocrites don't get my vote.
Joy: Are we allowed to see other people?
Lang: Yes, but not to date-text other people. We are texting—steadily.
Joy: I’ve never gone steady via text. This is… I mean, we just met, and how do I know we are the right fit?
Lang: Well, you can always wait for something better. Maybe it is right around the corner. Just know, if the occasion arises … I’ll make sure it fits.
Joy: No dirty texts. I’m watching you.
Lang: You walked right into it, Baby.
Joy: Ugh… Maybe we are not right for each other. But what if I spend my whole life waiting?
Lang: I hope you don’t change your mind. We could be great together. I could promise that no one will text you the way I do.
Joy: Fine. I’d rather give this a shot than live the rest of my life textless.
Lang: I like you, Joy. You are refreshing.
Joy: It’s a gift—and I like you too.
Lang: How was your week?
Joy: It was long. There’s a lot of stuff going on in my mind, and when that happens, I spend a long time working.
Lang: What do you like to do when you aren’t busy?
Joy: Hmm, let see. I like to read. Sometimes, I read a classic book in several different languages—that takes me about a year. It’s interesting to see how some translations are almost perfect, while others are not as close to the original version.
Joy: How about you? What do you like to do on your free days?
Lang: Wow, I got myself a smart texter. Maybe we’ll be in a relationship where we can talk a very dirty version of Jane Austen’s classics.
Joy: :wink: :flustered face:
Joy: Don’t ignore my question, what do you do with your free time?
Lang: I’m always busy. Like you, sometimes I get engrossed with work, and I spend hours if not days testing, changing… I have a confession. I’m a workaholic. But that’s enough about work. Where are you?
Joy: I’m at the Botanical Garden.
Lang: Which one?
Joy: Downtown. It was between that or the zoo. What about you?
Lang: I’m at Garden of the Gods. Just finished climbing.
Joy: I never thought about going there to climb. We usually hike there and then go to Manitou Springs shopping. I should tell my brother. He’s the only one who would go with me.
Lang: What are your favorite things?
Joy: Precipitation. I know it’s so random, but I love to watch the rain and the snow fall. The scent of flowers. Except the Titan Flower.
Lang: Which one is that?
Joy: It’s the one that smells like a rotting corpse. My parents took us to see one in bloom. They only last about 24 hours open. 48, if you are lucky.
Lang: Why would you want to see and smell a flower that reeks and doesn’t last for too long?
Joy: It’s an experience. I guess that’s another one of my favorite things: to experience the world. What about you?
Lang: Favorite things … figuring out how things work. I used to take apart electronics to see what each component looked like and what it did. Then, I’d put it back together. Sometimes, I would combine appliances. My father didn’t love it.
Joy: You recreated Frankenstein’s monster out of kitchen appliances?
Lang: It was entertaining, but never worked out.
Lang: And I wasn’t going for Frankenstein. More like a waffle-blender machine, or a toaster-mixer gadget. I built my first computer at thirteen.
Joy: Most children would be proud of joyriding at that age—after borrowing their parent’s car without permission. Apparently, you weren’t most children.
Lang: That’s what my father used to say. It drove him insane. That doesn’t mean I didn’t steal his bike, or his car, or the boat. We were a lot younger than thirteen. I hung out with my brother—a lot. He followed the school of Evel Knievel.
Lang: Yes, but not to date-text other people. We are texting—steadily.
Joy: I’ve never gone steady via text. This is… I mean, we just met, and how do I know we are the right fit?
Lang: Well, you can always wait for something better. Maybe it is right around the corner. Just know, if the occasion arises … I’ll make sure it fits.
Joy: No dirty texts. I’m watching you.
Lang: You walked right into it, Baby.
Joy: Ugh… Maybe we are not right for each other. But what if I spend my whole life waiting?
Lang: I hope you don’t change your mind. We could be great together. I could promise that no one will text you the way I do.
Joy: Fine. I’d rather give this a shot than live the rest of my life textless.
Lang: I like you, Joy. You are refreshing.
Joy: It’s a gift—and I like you too.
Lang: How was your week?
Joy: It was long. There’s a lot of stuff going on in my mind, and when that happens, I spend a long time working.
Lang: What do you like to do when you aren’t busy?
Joy: Hmm, let see. I like to read. Sometimes, I read a classic book in several different languages—that takes me about a year. It’s interesting to see how some translations are almost perfect, while others are not as close to the original version.
Joy: How about you? What do you like to do on your free days?
Lang: Wow, I got myself a smart texter. Maybe we’ll be in a relationship where we can talk a very dirty version of Jane Austen’s classics.
Joy: :wink: :flustered face:
Joy: Don’t ignore my question, what do you do with your free time?
Lang: I’m always busy. Like you, sometimes I get engrossed with work, and I spend hours if not days testing, changing… I have a confession. I’m a workaholic. But that’s enough about work. Where are you?
Joy: I’m at the Botanical Garden.
Lang: Which one?
Joy: Downtown. It was between that or the zoo. What about you?
Lang: I’m at Garden of the Gods. Just finished climbing.
Joy: I never thought about going there to climb. We usually hike there and then go to Manitou Springs shopping. I should tell my brother. He’s the only one who would go with me.
Lang: What are your favorite things?
Joy: Precipitation. I know it’s so random, but I love to watch the rain and the snow fall. The scent of flowers. Except the Titan Flower.
Lang: Which one is that?
Joy: It’s the one that smells like a rotting corpse. My parents took us to see one in bloom. They only last about 24 hours open. 48, if you are lucky.
Lang: Why would you want to see and smell a flower that reeks and doesn’t last for too long?
Joy: It’s an experience. I guess that’s another one of my favorite things: to experience the world. What about you?
Lang: Favorite things … figuring out how things work. I used to take apart electronics to see what each component looked like and what it did. Then, I’d put it back together. Sometimes, I would combine appliances. My father didn’t love it.
Joy: You recreated Frankenstein’s monster out of kitchen appliances?
Lang: It was entertaining, but never worked out.
Lang: And I wasn’t going for Frankenstein. More like a waffle-blender machine, or a toaster-mixer gadget. I built my first computer at thirteen.
Joy: Most children would be proud of joyriding at that age—after borrowing their parent’s car without permission. Apparently, you weren’t most children.
Lang: That’s what my father used to say. It drove him insane. That doesn’t mean I didn’t steal his bike, or his car, or the boat. We were a lot younger than thirteen. I hung out with my brother—a lot. He followed the school of Evel Knievel.
She writes alluring, thrilling stories about complicated women and the men who take their breaths away. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband and her youngest two children. She has a sweet Bichon, Macey, who thinks she’s the ruler of the house—she’s only partially right. Hanna, the cuddliest and cutest Havanese/Maltese, is the one who rules them all.
When Claudia is not writing, you can find her reading, knitting, or just hanging out with her family. At nights, she likes to binge watch shows with his equally geeky husband.
Visit https://claudiayburgoa.com/wp/ for more information
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