Friday, September 30, 2016

release blitz for Dirty Boy by Kathryn Kelly

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Release Blitz
Title: Dirty Boy
Series: The Dirty Series, book 1. Books 2 and 3 should be released in 2017. They will be standalones and have no cliffhangers.
Author: Kathryn Kelly
Genre: New Adult (with sex) Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2016
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jompsynopsis
Recipe: 1 Porn Star, 1 Step Sister, 1 Wealthy Father, 1 Flighty Stepmother
Take one trust fund baby porn star, a stepsister in need of money, and a wealthy father the flighty stepmother stole from. Add in a lot of sex, a huge dose of tragedy, a load of betrayal, a pinch of revenge and a heap of arrogance. Mix them together and shake shit up for a few weeks. The result? One VERY Dirty Boy.
Add to Goodreads
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[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpNvFMMKsJg]
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“May I help you?” she asked. He lifted a brow. Her question should’ve irked him. She lounged in his father’s house, as if she belonged there. But the light sound of her voice brought wicked images to his mind. “What type of help are you offering?” A blush crept into her cheeks, yet she grinned. Mischief lit her eyes. Her stunning face would work as well on-camera as her perfect body. She held out her hand. “I’m Story. Babs’ daughter.” Fuck! This girl wasn’t a servant’s daughter, taking advantage of his father’s generosity and liberalism. She was his stepsister. Believing her mother to be an opportunist, he wanted to resent her. For some reason, he walked forward and took her hand into his. “Max,” he introduced. “Max,” she breathed, her friendliness turning wary. “Winston’s son?” His reputation preceded him. “The porn star,” she giggled out nervously. His career wasn’t a secret, but it shocked him that she brought it up. Most people refused to admit they liked porn. He nodded, enjoying the blush creeping over her entire body. “The same.” “Richard Head.” She was still giggling. He waited for his annoyance at the grating sound. It didn’t come. Once again, he nodded. “Or is it Dick Head?” she asked around peals of laughter that drew a chuckle from him. “Have you watched me?” That shut her up. She snapped her mouth shut and offered him and under-eyed look. “Maybe,” she responded in a sing-song tone.   Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/12141335015/playlist/3G2rbmU8Mi5SjUIRdu7HIc jompauthorbio In Kat's head, she's the ultimate biker babe. In reality, she is an ordinary, everyday person who loves scotch, reading, writing, and football.
Find Kathryn Kelly here:
deathdwellers
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cover reveal of Prince Sin by Victoria Cabot

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Cover Reveal
Title: Prince Sin
Author: Victoria Cabot
Release Date: October 7, 2016
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jompsynopsis
There isn’t a woman alive who can tame the world’s most notorious billionaire prince. Many have tried. All have failed. The world knows him as Prince Sin. Lewd, crude, and completely unapologetic. Worshiped by millions of women around the globe, and pined for by those who have had the "privilege" of being one of his many conquests. Living in a penthouse in the skies of New York City, playboy Prince Anders indulges in a voracious appetite of lust that can be tempered by no one. Until he goes too far... What happens when the only woman who can preserve the Prince's lavish lifestyle of pleasure is the first woman whose heart he broke? The only regret he harbors? The only one he loved? A Prince of Sin. And an angel of virtue... When a simple arrangement turns complicated and steamy, it will be the bad boy prince himself who realizes the love he lost. But will he be able to redeem himself? Or will he forever regret his actions? Come salute this standalone royal romance. A story that’s filled with brooding billionaire alpha-males and the women they love. I promise I won’t leave you with a cliffhanger, but be warned, the heat level is hotter than a hundred-degree day. Will this bad boy prince get his happily ever after? The answer is one-click away.   princefullebook0923-dark-flipped-2-final jompauthorbio   Victoria Cabot is delirious about having fun in every part of her life. Whether that means being outside in beautiful weather, or sitting at home reading a book, you'll never see her go more than ten minutes without smiling. She prefers to write safe, happily ever after pieces that are nevertheless steamy and exciting. And when she says steamy and exciting, she means, well...you'll just have to find out. She graduated from Brown University with a degree in English Literature and has traveled the world for several years after college before eventually settling down and marrying her longtime boyfriend. When she's not writing, Victoria loves to read, go dancing, and go shopping. Afternoon tea and a glass of wine with bubble baths are two of her favorite things. She loves getting flowers, especially when not expecting them. For the last year, Victoria has lived in Manhattan with her golden retriever. You can email her at victoria.cabot@neotomes.com or join her mailing list at http://eepurl.com/b938Fz   jomppromo  

Excerpt Reveal for Jailbait by Emily Goodwin!

Ebook
Title: Jailbait
Author: Emily Goodwin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 6
Goodreads
Synopsis
Grayson King is anything but royal…

Pepper Davenwood is the embodiment of class…

They say opposites attract, but what happens when they collide?

Recently released from prison, the only thing Grayson wants more than a fresh start is a chance to prove himself to the only woman he’s ever loved. But with a past he can’t talk about, a criminal record he can’t explain, and the mess his father left in wake of his sudden death, Grayson knows it’s not going to happen.

Until it does.

And now that he’s back in her life, Grayson realizes the very woman he’d give up everything for might be the one to take it all away. Because the heart knows no limits when it comes to love, and Grayson will do whatever it takes to keep Pepper safe.

Even if it means breaking the law…again.


Jailbait
Copyright 2016 Emily Goodwin
Prologue
Grayson
Rich bitch.
I stop in the middle of the driveway, hot sunlight warming me in my leather jacket, and watch her cross through a breezeway, heels softly clicking on the cobblestone. Wind blows her hair around her face, and strands of gold shimmer in the sun. Laughter floats through the air, hardly audible over the bubbling fountain surrounded by perfectly groomed white flowers. She’s busy talking on the phone as she gets into a black Tesla, and doesn’t even see me.
But it’s not the first time I’ve seen her, nor is it the first time I’ve walked up these thick, stone steps leading to the Davenwood Manor. I set my gaze on the dark oak double doors, covered in intricate carvings and the letters “D” and “W” etched into the frosted glass.
The Tesla quietly comes to life and takes off down the driveway. I turn, unable to help but admire the beauty of both the car and the driver. I don’t like the way my heart flutters when I get a glimpse of her face in the rearview mirror. Her golden brown hair tangles behind her in the wind as she accelerates. She’s so grown up, miles from the scraggly girl I used to run around with. I blink and turn back to the doors, noticing a security camera tucked away in a corner of this ostentatious covered porch, and knock on the door.
Just seconds later, the door is pulled back and I’m hit with a blast of cold air.
“Good afternoon,” a voice comes from inside. I’m not able to see the speaker in the dark foyer. “Mr. King, I presume?”
“Yes,” I say gruffly.
The outline of a butler dressed in all black comes into view. He bows his head slightly and extends his arm. “Come in.”
I step inside the century-old mansion, remembering the first time I set foot in this place twenty years ago. I couldn’t wait to get inside then, thinking it looked like a place Bruce Wayne might have spent his childhood before he turned into a vigilante. And maybe—just maybe—there could be a badass billionaire living in here too that I’d stumble into when I got lost on my way to the bathroom. That never happened, of course, much to my childhood disappointment.
“Mr. Davenwood is waiting for you,” the butler continues and turns, leading me through the foyer. The place is dim, and all the dark wood and faded paintings aren’t helping. Weird, how I feel so closed in from the lack of light when this place is fucking huge. The same familiar smells hang in the air: wood polish, leather, and an earthy perfume. The scent of the rich.
I follow behind the butler. I’ve been in here before, but can’t navigate around all 20,000 square feet. The house darkens the further in we go, and I can’t help but feel like I’m walking into the belly of the beast. The butler opens another set of heavy oak doors, and steps to the side. Sunlight pours through two-story windows that are surrounded by bookshelves that run from the floor all the way to the ceiling. A balcony runs around the perimeter of the bookshelves, and a metal ladder is attached to the shelves. A large desk is situated in front of a cast iron spiral staircase. A man who I haven’t seen in years sits at that desk. I pause, keeping my face neutral. Those years have not been kind to him.
“Grayson King.” With a crunch of leather, Alcott Davenwood rises from the tall chair and buttons his navy blue jacket. “It’s been too long.” He gives a curt nod to the butler, who steps out of the library and closes the door. Alcott turns his attention back to me with a slight smile on his thin lips.
I move my head up and down, unsure of the etiquette of the rich. I don’t really give a shit, but I’m too curious to make a wrong move and piss the guy off. We haven’t seen each other since my father’s funeral six years ago, and suddenly he’s calling me, asking that I come from my home in California to this estate in New York with no explanation as to why.
“Thank you for coming,” he says and moves around the desk. “You look well, considering.” Standing a few feet in front of me, he looks me over before clapping me on the back. The greeting is over quickly, and he extends his hand to the velvet couch. I sit on the edge, flicking my eyes around the library.
Alcott goes back to his desk, and with a heavy sigh, sits in the tall chair. He puts his elbows on the desk and swallows. “You’re wondering why I called.” He’s not asking; he knows I’m in the dark. “There’s no easy way to put this, and you know I’m not one to bullshit around things.”
I don’t know that, because I don’t know Alcott Davenwood. My father did, and the years of friendship and trust between them has created some sort of weird bond between the man and myself. If my father trusted this man, then I trust him. My father didn’t hand out trust and friendship to just anyone. And if it wasn’t for Alcott, his attorney, and his money, my father wouldn’t have been able to get custody of me and I’d never escaped my drug addicted mother living in a run down apartment in the ghetto of Chicago. I’ve only seen Alcott a few times in person, but I know I basically owe this man my life.
That’s never a good debt to have.
“I’m dying.” Alcott’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“What?” I say, even though I clearly heard him.
“I’m dying,” he repeats and puts his hand to his chest. “Lung cancer.”
I blink, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry…but why are you telling me?”
Alcott lets out a hearty laugh. “A fair question. I’m a businessman, Grayson. Protecting my assets is a priority, and there is nothing more important to me than my daughter. I’m sure you remember her.”
Of course I remember Pepper Davenwood. She’s not someone you can ever forget. Though judging by the way she peeled out of the driveway in her expensive car, she sure as shit doesn’t remember me.
“Pepper is safe, well guarded. She knows this. Hell, the world knows this. No one will touch her…while I’m alive.”
Silence falls between us as things click into place. “How long do you have?”
“The doctors gave me six months.”
“How long ago?” I find myself leaning forward.
“Six months ago. I’m on an experimental drug that’s giving me more time. But as with life, it’s never enough.” Alcott inhales deeply and looks out the window. His face remains stoic, but I catch a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. A ruthless businessman coming from a long line of rich assholes, Alcott Davenwood has made a fair share of enemies in his day. His gray eyes move back to me. “I assume you know why you’re here now.”
“Why me?”
“I need someone capable,” he begins to explain. “You’re a man with a particular skill set, one that can come in handy while protecting my daughter.”
I feel my chest begin to tighten as it hits me that Alcott Davenwood knows me a hell of a lot better than I know him. It makes sense though; I wondered how the hell my father was able to pay my bail and afford that lawyer just months before he passed. I swallow hard and look at Alcott, still having a hard time wrapping my head around how someone like him—a high society man, with an aristocratic family tree, and more money than God—could be such good friends with a man like my father, who’s biggest claim to fame was becoming VP of The Jackals Motorcycle Club for three years before his heart attack.
Alcott Davenwood and Nicolas King were polar opposites. Maybe that’s why they made such good friends, kept the interest in each other’s lives. My father rarely spoke of his time in the Army, but I know that’s how they met.
“And,” Alcott lowers his voice, leaning forward over his desk. “I need someone I can trust.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You trust me?” I could bust out laughing right now, but don’t. The thought of something happening to Pepper is sobering.
“I do trust you,” he says, speaking each word slowly. “You are your father’s son.”
“You know my past…I’ve done some bad things,” I blurt.
Alcott’s eyes narrow and his weak smiles widens. “So have I.”
The man before me is aged, weakened by sickness. Yet I find him more intimidating than anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some fucked up people. Because a man like Alcott Davenwood has money, and money can buy anything.
“Don’t you have hired guards?” I can’t help but ask.
“Many. But the thing is, they work for me. And when I’m gone…” He trails off with a shake of his head.
Yeah, I get it. Once Alcott is dead and gone, the company and all the Davenwood riches fall to Pepper, his only child. And last time I checked—granted it was years ago—Pepper had no interest in taking over the empire. She’ll sit back and let whoever the hell her father assigned assistant status to make the decisions. She’ll be a sitting duck, at the mercy of the highest bidder.
Fuck.
“My Pepper is a smart girl,” Alcott goes on. “Smart, and kind.” He says it like a flaw, like he’s saying she’s lazy or vain. Alcott might be the only person in the world to think kindness is a flaw, but when people are constantly trying to pull the rug out from underneath you—and that rug happens to be made of billions—maybe you see the world differently.
“So,” he continues. “Are you interested in the position?”
“What exactly do I have to do?” I ask, though it doesn’t feel like I have much of a choice. If I say no, I’m fairly sure Alcott Davenwood would see to it the rest of my life is even shittier than it already is.
“Learn Pepper’s habits, where she likes to spend time with, who her friends are…without being seen.”
“You want me to spy on her?” I lean back on the soft velvet couch, cocking an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way,” Alcott tells me, though really, I could think of worse things than watching Pepper all day. “Knowing who she associates with now before the public learns of my demise is imperative.”
Before the pubic… “Pepper doesn’t know, does she?”
“Only the doctors at Good Faith Methodist Hospital and now you know. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
I move my head up and down, looking right into Alcott’s eyes, and wonder why the fuck would he keep this from his daughter? My old man and I weren’t exactly best buddies, but when it came down to his final hour, I wished I’d known and taken advantage of the time we had together.
An image of Pepper flashes in my mind, to the fleeting time I got to call her mine. She was eighteen and full of rebellion and lust. I remember the times I’d sneak over, coming through the woods and meeting her in the courtyard. She’d bring me up into her room, and we assumed no one knew. Judging by the blinking red light in every corner of this room alone, this place has as much security as the White House.
It’s a wonder Alcott never skinned me alive. Though in hindsight, I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t care about her money or her family name.
Only her.
“I will pay you well,” Alcott says. “More than double what you’re making and Cal’s Customs, and more than you’d ever be able to earn on your own given your…your status.” My criminal record, he means. “And I will provide you with a place to live, a new phone number, and a vehicle more conspicuous than that hunk of metal you ride around.”
My fingers twitch, wanting to curl into fists. Don’t insult my bike, no matter who you are…and how the fuck does he know all this? Right. You can buy information. I internally shudder. No wonder he needs someone from the outside to watch over Pepper.
“I prefer to provide you with whatever you need…leave the past behind you, so to speak,” he says and narrows his eyes. He leans forward, looking me right in the eye. “This may be presumptuous of me, but I assume you want out.”
My mouth goes dry and sweat breaks out along my back. Alcott knows fucking everything. And of course I want out. I never wanted in. No one gets out alive. No one. I look Alcott hard in the eye, and he raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, telling me it’s possible.
No one has gotten out alive…but no one had a billionaire buying their freedom either. I might have a snowball’s chance in hell, but if I can get out, get away, and keep the skin on my back…fuck. It’s worth it on its own.
“Glad we can come to an agreement,” Alcott says.
“I haven’t accepted the job yet,” I remind him.
Alcott looks at me, the smile gone. I keep my face set, a bit of a permanent scowl darkening my features. It’s in my nature to play hardball, to not let anyone not let anyone know what’s going on beneath the surface. If I were a betting man, I could make a decent profit by betting that Alcott already knows what I’ve worked so damn hard to bury.
Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have called me. And I wouldn’t have risked everything to come here. But I’ll be damned to admit it to anyone else, let alone myself.
I’ve been in love with Pepper Davenwood since the day we met.

About the Author
Emily
Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she's not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.


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Cover Reveal for Mr. Rebound by Kat T Masen!

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Title: Mr. Rebound
Author: Kat T Masen
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: October 30
Goodreads
Synopsis
Moving across the country was supposed to be a fresh start. I’d made mistakes, but I told myself I’d no longer prey on emotionally unstable women. I don’t do relationships—I’m a selfish bastard that enjoys not answering to anyone—and relationships mean being with only one woman. More often than not, one that carries emotional baggage, like cheating exes or worse—kids.
After landing myself in trouble, again, my cousin Charlie dared me to settle down with one woman. I’m not one to shy away from a dare, so I chose Scarlett Winters, the most wanted actress in Hollywood. The sexiest woman on Earth.
I just needed to get past the roadblock—her assistant, Morgan Bentley.
The wicked bitch of the west.
Between her multiple personalities and the giant stick up her ass, I should’ve seen it coming. I’d been with enough women to read the signs. Morgan Bentley was after one thing, and one thing only. A rebound.
That’s me, right?
Mr Rebound.
But what if this time I wanted more?




Mr Rebound Promo

AMAZON * AMAZON UK * AMAZON AU B&N * KOBO * iBOOKS

About the Author
Kat
Born and bred in Sydney Australia, Kat T. Masen is a mother to three crazy boys and wife to one sane husband. Growing up in a generation where social media and fancy gadgets didn’t exist, she enjoyed reading from an early age and found herself immersed in these stories. After meeting friends on twitter who loved to read as much as she did, her passion to write began and the friendships continued on despite the distance. “I’m known to be crazy and humorous. Show me the most random picture of a dog in a wig and I’ll be laughing for days.”


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Cover Reveal for Kill Me by LP Lovell.




Title: Kill Me
Series: Kiss of Death #1
Author: LP Lovell
Genre: Dark Romance
Cover Design & Photographer: Cassy Roop, Pink Ink
Model: Casey Creswell
Release Date: October 24, 2016



Blurb

Una

To many, I am little more than a myth. The Kiss of Death, a hired killer, revered by the some of the greatest criminal organisations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy, the perfect soldier. I’ll kill anyone… for a price. Death doesn’t discriminate, she sells to the highest bidder, but even I have a weakness.

Luca

I want one thing—power. But power is merely a game of strategy. The pieces are on the chess board. Death is my queen, and also my pawn. She’ll paint this city red in exchange for the one thing she wants. Now all I have to do is watch it all play out. She’s nothing more than a weapon, and yet, I find myself wanting to dance with death, to possess her. And I always get what I want.

A game of power. A risk that could cost her everything. An obsession that would see the world burn at their feet. A bloodied king. A broken queen. Kill me or kiss me?





Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK






Author Bio

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England.

She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.

Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.

LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.



Author Links

Release Day Blitz for Portia Moore.






















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Our history made things harder.


We were associates out of convenience.
We tolerated each other.
I never saw her that way.
She never saw me that way.
She and I were never meant to be friends.


You’re not supposed to fall for your best friend’s enemy, even if the enemy is YOUR ex-best friend.


This isn’t the story of falling in love with your best friend.
It’s about falling out of hate.















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…. “So what’s your story, Lisa? The real story.” Grams shifts her attention to Lisa, honing in on her like a lion does a gazelle.
Even though I’m ecstatic to be out of the hot seat, Lisa hasn’t had a grilling by grams in years, and the woman is like a human lie detector. If Grams hadn’t been pulling so much overtime at the hospital during my senior year, she would have sniffed out Lisa’s Mr. Robinson romance before it even started and set her straight. Lisa’s eyes dart over to me, but if there’s one person I can’t save her from, it’s this one.
“My sort-of boyfriend-slash-boss dumped-slash-fired me and kicked me out of his house,” Lisa answers, picking at a piece of toast.
  
“That asshole. Do you want Aidan to go kick his ass?” Grams asks angrily, ready to send me to California.
“I already asked, Grams.”
“No, it-it actually was my fault,” Lisa answers quietly.
Grams is quiet for a moment. “What’d you do?”
Lisa looks at me before returning her attention to her toast. “I-I told him that I had slept with another guy.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. She didn’t tell me that.
“It was a lie though,” she adds quickly.
“Why would you do something stupid like that?” Grams asks in a way that only she could. It comes off as hilarious but concerned.
“Because I’m an idiot sometimes.” Lisa laughs and looks down at her picked over toast, apparently embarrassed.
Grams sighs, shaking her head. “What am I going to do with you two? So what are you going to do to get him back?” Grams asks in the no-nonsense tone only she could make loveable.
Lisa chuckles. “I don’t think that’s happening.”
“Hey, one thing I want you two to remember is that you never give up on love. I don’t care what it takes. True love, real love, is worth some groveling and embarrassment.” Grams’s expression becomes serious, and she points at both of us to drive home her point. “Real love can bounce back from anything.”
I roll my eyes.
“One day you’re going to find the girl that will make you crazy, that you’ll hate and love so much it’ll make your skin itch,”
“Great, love's like an STD.” I cringe.
Lisa hides her chuckle.
“Listen, if there’s one thing I wish for you, it’s that you find your other half who, no matter how bad things get, can make you smile every day, even if you want to crack their skull in sometimes. That’s the type of love that makes you feel complete,” she says with a reminiscent smile.
I wonder if she’s reflecting on my granddad.
“Shouldn’t you feel that way regardless of another person? You shouldn’t need anyone else to complete you,” Lisa says.
I grin. Now there’s the controversial, opinionated girl I know.
“No, you should never need anyone to make you feel good about who you are. You always have to love yourself, because if you don’t do that, when you meet that other person, it’s going to make their job a shitload harder. But when you have that love that makes your insides feel weak, when you have a person who will go to hell and back for you, it’s like putting a pretty little bow on an already beautifully wrapped gift box,” Grams says.
“So it’s like when a girl is hot, then you find out she’s a gymnast?” I deduce.
“You’re a pig,” Lisa scolds me playfully, and I make a snorting noise. “I didn’t know that you were into love stuff like this, Grams. You’re always so tough and kickass.”
“Us hardasses need love too, and you never got to meet Aidan’s granddaddy. You’d have seen true love right in front of you,” Grams says sadly. “So you going to get this boy, back?”
I snicker, and Lisa cuts her eyes at me.
“What was that for?” she asks indignantly.
“You don’t love Brett,” I say before stealing a piece of bacon off her plate.
“Oh, and you’d know because you’re so in love with Hillary?” she counters.
“Who's Hillary?” Grams asks, and I frown.
“You know,” I say with a tense laugh.
“No, I don’t know,” she reiterates.
Lisa bursts into laughter. “So your grams doesn’t even know about your pretty-much girlfriend?”
I haven’t mentioned her once? “I’ve been kind of seeing her the past year,” I tell Grams, rolling my eyes at Lisa’s smug grin.
“Goddammit, when am I going to get to meet the girl?”
Shit, Hillary meeting Grams? I don’t even want to imagine how that’d go, or the ideas it’d give Hillary about us.
“I’ll think about it,” I grumble. Grams frowns, so I shine the spotlight back on Lisa. “What about you, Lisa? Going to run and fight for your true love?” I can’t even make it through the sentence without bursting into laughter.
“Brett is a really great guy!” she spits back, even though he kicked her and his soon-to-be child out of the house.
The thought makes my fist instinctively ball up.
“The whole thing was my fault,” she adds defensively.
“The guy’s a douche and has been since you dated him in high school.”
“Aidan hates Brett because he’s everything he’s not: charming, sensitive, and a man instead of a little boy,” she says, then sticks her tongue out at me.
“You two are still the same. As much as you fought when you were younger, I swore you’d grow up and marry each other.” Grams laughs as Lisa and I look at her as if she’s grown two heads.
“That’d never happen, Grams. Aidan likes his women dumb and psychotic,” she teases.
“And Leese likes her dudes with vaginas and issues out the ass,” I say.






































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I'm obsessed with blowing kisses. I guess that makes me a romantic. I love books and cute boys and reading about cute boys in books.I'm infatuated with the glamour girls of the past: Audrey,Dorothy,Marilyn,Elizabeth.
I'm a self confessed girly girl,book nerd,food enthusiast, and comic book fan. Odd combination huh, you have no idea...
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