Hallen Jansen has it all. At 28, he has a flashy car, a great apartment, and a job he’s good at and that he loves – as an escort – working at your beck and call.
His life is easy, with no emotions or attachments slowing him down – choosing to keep moving, always running from the past. But when a new client awakens unfamiliar feelings, all bets are off. Can he convince a recently divorced woman twenty years older to trust men again – to trust him? Can Hallen trust himself not to screw things up?
Surrounded by people who choose to judge them, will they make their relationship a reality, or is it heartbreak for both?
Not all services are professional.
I was even more irritated when Sian laid a possessive hand on my chest, stroking me, as if I was some fucking pet. Maybe I was more annoyed because that’s exactly what I was to her.
“Well, beautiful,” she said, cocking one eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this casual before.”
I glanced down at my ripped jeans, and old Fife Flyers t-shirt smeared with yet more paint.
“Except, of course,” Sian continued with a leer, “when you’re a lot more casual.”
She laughed throatily, a malicious glint in her eyes.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt embarrassed by her insinuation.
Laura showed she had more class than her friend by skating over the comment.
“Are you an artist, Hallen?” she asked, raising one eyebrow, daring me to contradict her now she’d caught me with the evidence, nodding at the tubes of oil paints I was carrying.
“Ha, well, depends on who you ask,” I replied, playing along with the illusion that we were strangers meeting for the first time.
She smiled warmly, as if she was trying to convey some meaning beyond her words. “I do admire people who have creative talents.”
“Hallen has many talents,” snorted Sian. “Or maybe I should say one big talent. Oh yes, he’s definitely creative! In fact, you wouldn’t believe how creative we can be when we get together. Is there anything we haven’t done creatively, beautiful?”
I felt my cheeks flush, and a small frown of disapproval appeared on Laura’s face. Sian was enjoying herself.
I stood up straight and took half a step backward so Sian’s hand fell away from me. I was not going to lose my shit in front of her.
“Well, I’d better get going. Enjoy your day, ladies.”
Laura smiled again, but Sian didn’t even wait until I was out of earshot before I heard her loud laugh.
“He fucks even better than he looks.”
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I started writing contemporary romance two years ago. Before that, I didn’t think I could write a sex scene. Turns out I can!
My lucky number is 13 because I was born on the 13th and live near a haunted castle by the ocean. My number one past-time is watching hot surfers get changed into (and out of) their wetsuits.
My husband doesn’t read my books. My mother does.
Writing is my love, my hobby, my total addiction. All my characters are important to me and whisper their stories, even when I’ve finished writing their books. That’s why you’ll often find bonus chapters/out-takes from various books, because those voices just won’t be quiet.
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