February 10, 2020

Spotlight: Back to You by Kristen Granata

February 10, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Genre: Contemporary Romance

They say you never forget your first love. Clearly, they haven’t tried hard enough. I’ve spent five years forgetting about Christopher Hastings.

His gentle touch? A distant memory.

Those gorgeous hazel eyes? Long gone.

The sparks that flew when we kissed? Wiped from my mind.

Now my life is going exactly the way I want it to. I landed a teaching job at my old elementary school. I’m happy again. Everything’s perfect.

Imagine my surprise when I find out my school’s gym teacher is none other than Christopher Hastings.

Cue panic attack.

But it doesn’t matter how good he fills out those basketball shorts—I’ve moved on. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. If only my heart would get the memo.

They say you never forget your first love, and it looks like Christopher is determined to make sure I never forget mine.

Exclusive Excerpt

Have you ever forced a smile so hard that it actually hurt?

I think I just pulled a muscle in my face.

Either that or I’m having a stroke. That would give me a good excuse to exit this conversation. Sorry, I’m having a stroke. I have to go.

“And then I was like, wait ... is this gluten free? Because I’m gluten intolerant.”

What’s this girl’s name again? My eyes glazed over five minutes ago, yet she continues blabbering on:

“And he was like, “No, ma’am.” And I was like, did he just call me ma’am? And then I was like, “I want to speak to your manager.””

Is it Jessica? Or Jamie?

“I mean, how prudent can you be? Can you believe that?”

Maybe it doesn’t start with a J at all ...

“Uhm, hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Shit. I’ve been caught. I clear my throat. “I’m not sure prudent is the right word.”

Nameless Girl cocks her blond head to the side. “What?”

“You said: How prudent can you be? But that word doesn’t make sense in that sentence.”

Her vacant eyes blink back at me.

So I continue to dig my hole deeper. “Prudent means practical, sensible. I think you meant to say insensitive.”

Blink, blink.

I lift my half-empty cup of beer to my lips and take a swig. I guess it could be half-full, if you’re one of those types. But that’s not how I see things. Guess I’m more prudent.

My roommate, Damon, claps me on the back. “Hey, man. The pool table’s open. Let’s go.”

I don’t play pool, but he’s clearly on a search and rescue mission. A damn fine wingman, that friend of mine.

I push my cheeks up, straining through another smile. “I’m going to play pool. It was nice talking to you …” Jordana? Jody? Ah, fuck it. Who really cares what her name is?

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the vocabulary lesson.”

Damon chokes out a laugh as he ushers me toward the pool table. “Dude, that girl was a sure thing. Tell me you didn’t get all nerdy on her.”

I shrug before gulping down the rest of my beer. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I would want someone to tell me if I used a word incorrectly in a sentence.”

He shakes his head. “People don’t come to these parties to talk about school. They come here to get fucked up and not think about school.”

“But a conversation shouldn’t be physically painful. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I’m pretty sure she used the word like over twelve times within one minute.”

Damon leans against the table, leveling me with a look. “That’s your problem: You were trying to talk to her. You’re supposed to smile and nod, let her run her mouth about whatever she wants. After a few minutes, you ask her if she wants to get out of here. Then, you take her back to your place and fuck her.” He spreads his arms out wide. “Have I taught you nothing in the past year?”

I’m quiet as I set my cup down on the edge of the table. It’s not socially acceptable for a guy to tell another guy that he’s tired of the one-night stands and meaningless conversations. I want to get laid, trust me. But what’s wrong with having an interesting conversation with a girl before I fuck her? Why can’t I enjoy her company, fully-clothed, as much as when we’re naked? Is that too much to ask?

That’s the real foreplay. Getting into a girl’s mind before getting into her pants. If I can’t stand talking to her, what’s going to make me want to fuck her? Stupidity is a major boner killer.

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About the Author

Kristen Granata is a teacher by day, and an (exhausted) author by night. Known for writing emotional New Adult Romance, she loves creating realistic, flawed characters who struggle through the darkest parts of life and come out stronger on the other side. Kristen is a self-proclaimed "bitter cynic trapped in a hopeless romantic's body." Her characters pack a sarcastic punch, make you laugh, make you think, make you ugly cry - and they will always live happily ever after. If you're a lover of moving, inspirational reads, Kristen's your girl.Kristen was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1986. She moved to Staten Island with her family and lived there for almost twenty years. There she attended community college and became a teacher. Despite her passion for writing, and despite her professors strongly suggesting she become a writer, she took the more sensible route (bitter cynic, remember?) After going through a difficult divorce when she was only twenty-nine, Kristen returned to writing. The raw story that poured out of her led her to publish her debut novel, Collision, in March of 2018. Soon after in August 2018, the sequel, Avoidance, was published. Her third novel, The Other Brother, released in April 2019.Kristen openly shares her mental health struggles with depression and anxiety with her Instagram following. Her message is a beacon of hope to anyone who is suffering: You are not alone. She delicately weaves this theme into her writing, and demonstrates the ability of love to heal trauma.When she's not teaching or writing, Kristen is reading, Instagramming, indulging in her messy love affair with popcorn, and annoying her wife and step-daughters by incessantly singing along to The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

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February 06, 2020

Spotlight: Sisters by Choice by Susan Mallery

February 06, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

From the New York Times bestselling author of California Girls comes an all new original Blackberry Island novel told with Susan Mallery’s trademark humor and charm. Sisters by Choice is a heartfelt tale of love, family and the friendships that see us through.

Cousins by chance, sisters by choice…

After her cat toy empire goes up in flames, Sophie Lane returns to Blackberry Island, determined to rebuild. Until small-town life reveals a big problem: she can’t grow unless she learns to let go. If Sophie relaxes her grip even a little, she might lose everything. Or she might finally be free to reach for the happiness and love that have eluded her for so long.

Kristine has become defined by her relationship to others. She’s a wife, a mom. As much as she adores her husband and sons, she wants something for herself—a sweet little bakery just off the waterfront. She knew changing the rules wouldn’t be easy, but she never imagined she might have to choose between her marriage and her dreams.

Like the mainland on the horizon, Heather’s goals seem beyond her grasp. Every time she manages to save for college, her mother has another crisis. Can she break free, or will she be trapped in this tiny life forever?

Excerpt

Chapter Four

Kristine was pretty sure she hadn’t been born organized, but having three kids in less than five years, not to mention several great lessons from her mother, had taught her the importance of developing the skill. Some days were easier than others, but on the busiest ones, a plan was required. Her challenging day ran from Thursday afternoon until bedtime on Friday.

She started right after lunch with a trip to the big-box store on the mainland to stock up on baking supplies. When she got home, she checked on the stew she’d started in the Crock-Pot right after breakfast and then put everything away. No after-school activities were allowed on Thursday. It was home directly after school to get homework and chores done before dinner.

By five she had the salad made and the ingredients for cheddar biscuits on the counter. She separated egg yolks from egg whites and saved the former to use in a custard over the weekend. After chopping green onions and measuring flour, butter and shredded cheddar cheese, she checked the schedule on the refrigerator.

“Grant,” she yelled up the stairs. “Time to make biscuits.”

All three boys appeared in the kitchen.

“Are you sure it’s his turn?” JJ asked, walking to check the schedule himself. “He got to help last time.”

“I went last time,” Tommy said. “You went the time before.”

“Everyone gets the same number of turns. We rotate for a reason. Now, shoo.”

Tommy and JJ grumbled as they retreated. Grant carefully washed his hands and stood by the stove.

“I’m ready, Mom.”

“I can see that.”

While she would love to think it was her sparkling company that had the boys so anxious to help her in the kitchen, she knew the real appeal lay in the professional-grade stand mixer she’d wrestled onto the counter. She appreciated its work ethic and reliability, but the boys loved the roar of its engine and how it was Terminator-like in its relentless pursuit of turning disparate ingredients into a smooth, pliable blend.

She poured water into a stainless-steel pot, then added butter and cayenne pepper. Grant watched the mixture, stirring it occasionally.

“There are bubbles, Mom!”

“Excellent. Is the butter melted?”

“Not yet. Almost.” He stirred a few more times. “It’s melted!”

She took the pot off the heat and beat in flour. After dumping the dough into the stand mixer bowl, she smiled at Grant.

“It’s all yours, my man.”

“I got it, Mom. I got it!”

He carefully lowered the mixer and locked it into place, then turned it on. The whole eggs were added one at a time, then the egg whites. By the time that was done, she’d prepped two cookie sheets and started on the boys’ lunches.

Grant left the dough to cool and raced back to his bedroom. Tommy wandered in to set the table while JJ started watching for his father.

The dance was a familiar one, she thought. On other nights, when there were games and school meetings or Jaxsen had to rush out to meet the guys on his bowling league, things were hectic, but Thursdays were quieter. At least until dinner was done.

“Dad’s home!” JJ yelled from the front of the house. Seconds later she heard the front door open then bang into the wall. Grant shrieked and ran down the stairs. Tommy finished setting out flatware before joining his brothers.

Kristine whipped the sliced green onions and cheddar cheese into the dough and started dropping spoonfuls onto the cookie sheets. Jaxsen walked in, all three boys hanging on him.

“Look what I found outside,” he said, crossing to her and kissing her. “Can we keep them?”

“I don’t know. Do we have room?”

“We do. Oh, come on. Let me keep them. I’ll take good care of them, I swear.”

The boys laughed uproariously as if they hadn’t heard the joke a thousand times before. Kristine briefly thought that it would be nice if Jaxsen was telling the truth and he really would take care of the boys. Not that he didn’t help, but their responsibilities were clearly defined. Jaxsen worked hard on the state road crew and he brought in the money. Everything else was on her. After all, she was a stay-at-home mom. What else did she have to do with her day?

Kristine slid the cookie sheets into the oven.

“Twenty-one minutes, people. We have twenty-one minutes.”

The boys ran out of the kitchen. Jaxsen leaned against the counter.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Good. A couple of my crews got sent to help out with clearing the North Cascade Highway. Should be open by mid-May if it stays warm. Did you get by to see Sophie’s warehouse?”

“Not yet. I know she’s really busy hiring people and getting in shelves and stuff. I’ll get there.” She thought about what her cousin was going through. “She’s amazing. Starting over the way she is. I bet in a year or two, she’ll have doubled the business.”

“I think it’s sad.”

“Why would you say that? She started with nothing and now she has a successful company. Do you know what those jobs are going to do for the island? Plus, she’s making it as a woman with virtually no one helping her. She’s impressive.”

He moved close and wrapped his arms around her. “She’s by herself. Even when she was married to Mark, she seemed like she was by herself. Look at all the love in this house. You, me, the boys. She goes home to nothing. I wish she’d find somebody and quit working so hard.”

She looked into Jaxsen’s eyes. “I can’t figure out if you’re being sweet or a total jerk.”

“I’m not saying a woman can’t be happy by herself, but it’s better with a man.”

She raised her eyebrows and he quickly amended. “A partner of either gender. I’m not saying she shouldn’t be a lesbian if she wants to be. Hell, then I could watch.”

She slapped his arm and stepped away. “Do not let the boys hear you talking like that. I mean it.”

“You know I’m kidding. I just think Sophie needs somebody to love who loves her back. She needs somebody in her bed.” He pulled her close again. “I couldn’t make it without you.”

Kristine was pretty sure that was true. Jaxsen worked hard and he was a good dad, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who did things he didn’t like. All his “helping” with the boys was things he enjoyed. If one of the kids turned up sick, he was nowhere to be found. A flaw, she thought, stepping out of his embrace, but one she could live with.

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About the Author

#1 NYT bestselling author Susan Mallery writes heartwarming, humorous novels about the relationships that define our lives-family, friendship, romance. She’s known for putting nuanced characters in emotional situations that surprise readers to laughter. Beloved by millions, her books have been translated into 28 languages.Susan lives in Washington with her husband, two cats, and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur. Visit her at SusanMallery.com.

Connect with Susan: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

February 06, 2020

Spotlight: Perfect by Tricia Copeland

February 06, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Perfect
Tricia Copeland
Publication date: February 6th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

One driven woman. Five passionate paths to the perfect spouse.

Chloe refuses to compromise when it comes to romance and success. Powering through her sophomore-level college business classes, she’s done with the effort of distance-dating her high-school sweetheart. But when he proposes just as she hits it off with a hunky basketball player, she worries following her heart could send her bright future to the bench.

As Chloe matures to become a rising star in the fashion industry, love knocks another four times. But while each potential suitor eventually pops the question, only she knows her ultimate happy ending.

Whose arms will embrace Chloe when she chooses her forever man?

Perfect is a standalone clean contemporary romance. If you like tender moments, lighthearted comedy, and endings you choose yourself, then you’ll adore Tricia Copeland’s option-filled tale.

Buy Perfect to pick your ideal walk down the aisle today!

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

“You’re quiet. What’s wrong?” Bree glances at me and back to the windshield as she stops with a jerk in our parking space.

“Just tired.” I pull the handle and push my shoulder against the door. Heaving my pack to my shoulders, I meet her in front of the car.

She hooks an arm in mine as we walk to the apartment building entrance. “I usually can’t shut you up. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I miss Adam. It’s been a month since we’ve seen each other. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean? Stay here or stay with him?”

“I love him, and we’re miserable apart. But we’ve got two more years of school.”

“Only two more weeks till summer break.” She skips ahead of me and presses the elevator button. “Let’s do a girls’ movie night. We’ll order pizza and eat popcorn.”

We evaluate movie and takeout options on the elevator ride. She complains that I always want to watch Titanic, and I veto her hamburger dive restaurant choice. Reaching our floor, we wind through the maze of halls. As I make the last turn, I stop short.

Sweeping his bangs from in front of his blue eyes, he stands.

“Adam?”

“It’s about time!” Crossing to me, he picks me up and twirls me around.

I step out of his embrace. “What are you doing here?”

He slides a page from his back pocket and holds it out to me. “I just picked up this.”

I take the sheet and unfold it. Adam Stephen Hamilton Schedule for Fall Semester, the top reads.

“You’re going to school here?” My mouth hangs open.

“I hope that’s okay!”

“Of course. It’s amazing!”

“Well, in that case, I have something else.” He drops to one knee and slides a box from his pocket. “Chloe Hahn Pham, will you marry me?”

I look to Bree, who shrugs, and then back to him, barely able to process what is happening. My breath catches in my throat. “I—”

His eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry. You know I’m not great with stuff like this. Maybe I should have made a sign or had music, or something. If this is too soon—”

“No. I was going to say I love you. Yes. It’s perfect!”

Author Bio:

Award-winning author Tricia Copeland grew up in Georgia but now lives outside the mile-high city of Denver, Colorado with her husband, three kids, and multiple four legged and finned friends. An avid runner, hopeless romantic, and paranormal fan, she also enjoys hiking, trivia, and Scrabble.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Pinterest / Youtube

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February 06, 2020

Spotlight: Buried in my Past by Eva Mackenzie

February 06, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

She’s desperate to stop the panic attacks. But the truth won’t set her free…

Jamie Kendal sees life through the bottom of a bottle. After surviving assault and betrayal, she is forced back to her hometown to care for her mother. Not long after her return, she’s plagued by terrifying slivers of memories from the night her twin brother disappeared forever…

Unearthing new evidence, she’s shocked to learn she’d been found wandering in the woods that same night—covered in blood. More than one person from her past hid the haunting truth that’s bubbling to the surface. The deeper she digs into the horrors from her past, the more she fears almost anyone could be a killer, including Jamie herself.

Can Jamie expose what happened that night, or will she join her missing brother?

Excerpt

Taylor

“Hello, my name is Taylor, and I’m a sex addict.” He looked around the room at a few familiar faces. He’d never told his story to them, but he always liked to introduce himself to the group. Of course, Taylor wasn’t his real name. And perhaps his burden was not exactly sex addiction, but it was in that vein.

“Hello, Taylor.” The group welcomed him.

He quickly took his seat and cast his eyes to the ground.

There was a big group tonight at Sex Addicts Anonymous. The dusty space occupied the third floor of the public library, rented to them every Tuesday night.

Marcie, or so she claimed to be, stood up and moved to the front of the group.

She always liked to share all the gory details of her sex addiction. Taylor secretly wondered if she was getting off telling the group about her promiscuity. Too willing, if you asked him.

He glanced around at the men and women captivated by Marcie’s passionate relapse. He imagined some were fathers and mothers. Some were possibly divorced or in open relationships. Heterosexuals, homosexuals, and anything in between. All looked like average people.

Marcie was maybe a four on a scale of one to ten, so he barely raised his head as she continued.

This was his fifteenth meeting, and every time he walked through those doors, he wondered what he was doing here. Of course, he had a problem, but he wasn’t interested in fixing it. Maybe problem wasn’t the proper classification.

Was his issue a lack of moral character? If so, who was the judge? Society? That was a joke. No one on this earth was free from lust.

All of these people were suffering. Not him. He lived the dream. But on most Tuesday nights he found the time to drive two and half hours to this meeting. He didn’t ask himself why—he knew why—and the anticipation offered a giddy sensation that nudged his crotch. He was a bastard, for sure.

There was no one in this room he was interested in. Hell, who wanted cheap thrills. He was looking for a ten.

He wasn’t a handsome man, although he wasn’t ugly either. Some might say his nose was a bit too sharp or his hair too thin. His features weren’t coveted, and he wasn’t charming or even funny. But he only had sex with women who were nines, at minimum; it was sort of a rule he had.

The group around him broke into applause as Marcie took her seat. She didn’t give him a come-hither glance. Her eyes were glued to the other man she sat next to. As he stood up to introduce himself, Marcie rested a friendly hand on his arm—encouragement. Right.

He would be Marcie’s next relapse.

It was too easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

Not him—he wanted a real lay.

He stood and removed a cigarette from his coat pocket and headed for the door, his movement swift. He had forgotten the time.

Once out on the street, he was greeted by a blast of hot air. The pavement had soaked up the sun and continued to heat the city at night. He lit his smoke and waited while keeping his eyes on the steady stream of people moving down the sidewalk. The working crowd hustled along in and out of Virginia’s metro station in Arlington.

A woman in her early thirties hustled past him. Her Clinique perfume teased his nose as he closed the space quietly. Her feet slid into two-inch heels revealing that sexy muscle on the sides of her calves. She wore a business suit fitting her well in all the right places. Her smooth, pale skin flashed in the intermittent streetlights. She was a ten.

He dropped his smoke, not missing a step as she chose her watering hole.

A pub for working adults and cliques. High-end place. He knew before she even went inside that she would take a seat at the bar.

She graciously held the door for him without a backward glance.

Inside he took a seat at a table with a full view of the restaurant; Virginia didn’t have bars—they had places that serve fried food to patrons consuming large amounts of alcohol. The place was packed, noise assaulting his senses. Just the way he liked it. Much of the same crowd was here last week. He watched Ten take her seat, order her drink, and immediately pull out her cell phone.

“What can I get you?” a waitress asked.

“Gin and tonic and a margarita for my girlfriend.” He patted the table beside him as he nodded to the bathroom. She scurried off without another word.

He watched as a large group of men entered the bar. One of them spotted Ten and boldly joined her.

“Fifteen seventy,” the waitress said as she placed the two drinks in front of him a few minutes later. Opening his wallet, he counted out eighteen dollars and handed the money to her. He imagined the police asking her a list of questions. “What did he look like? How tall was he? Did he have any tattoos?” She would remember none of these things, the tip not large enough or small enough to trigger any memories.

He sipped his drink and watched.

He knew his number ten would be stood up this evening. Her profile picture online, to his delight, was an accurate depiction. In the dim bar light, her skin was as creamy and flawless as he recalled. She scanned her phone once again, her mannerisms jerky. She was looking for a man that didn’t exist. At least he didn’t live in Arlington, Virginia.

Best to travel in groups. There are a lot of assholes out there, Julie.

He pulled a small bottle from his pocket. A clear liquid inside promised adventure as he poured it into his second drink. Number ten was still at the bar, an unhappy pout dressing her full lips. The bold admirer continued a conversation with her. Perfect.

He slunk to the bar and pulled up next to her, careful not to gain her attention yet as she faced away from him. Bodies pressed in all directions. Her margarita sat barely touched in front of her.

“Can I get another gin and tonic?” He held up his empty glass. He scanned faces quickly but discreetly.

Placing his margarita next to hers, he gently tapped her on the shoulder as the bartender turned for his refill.

“This is mine, right?” he asked, pointing to her drink. She looked dazed for a second as she glanced at the two glasses. She nodded absently as he took her drink and left his cocktail instead. After paying the bartender, he went back to his table.

He watched as she drank the whole glass. Shadows danced over his face as he looked at his watch; it had been twenty minutes. Almost time.

Her movements were becoming loose as she swayed gently on the stool. Her admirer smiled at her dolefully as she seemed to lose her inhibition. Her current company mouthed, “I’ll be right back,” and took off toward the restroom. Time to make his move.

“There you are!” he said as he approached her. She looked over at him, glassy warm brown eyes accompanying a silky smile. He didn’t have much time.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was a mess.” He put his arm around her and kissed her softly on the lips. She didn’t object.

“Let’s go, sweetheart.” He was already moving toward the door.

No, I don’t have a problem. He looked down at his new girl. None at all.

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

Eva Mackenzie is an author who enjoys twisty, emotionally engrossing tales. Her debut novel has been a work in progress for over a decade. Under the urging of a loved one, it’s finally finished.

She is a wife and mother living on the east coast. When she isn’t writing, she is spending time with her family, training for her next marathon or reading stacks of suspense novels. Some of her favorite authors are Minka Kent, Dean Koontz, Tami Hoag, and Lisa Jackson.

Her latest book is BURIED IN MY PAST.

Connect:

Website → http://evamackenzie.com

Goodreads → http://goodreads.com/evamackenzie

Facebook → http://facebook.com/eva.mackenzie.3762

February 05, 2020

Spotlight: Ten Seconds to Dead by L.A. Clayton

February 05, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Ten Seconds to Dead
L.A. Clayton
Publication date: January 20th 2020
Genres: Adult, Thriller

Ten seconds may be all she has left …

Kate Edison witnesses her father’s death and, in order to keep his memory alive, decides to follow in his footsteps by joining the CIA. She molds herself into becoming exactly what the CIA is looking for—and captures their interest, both personally and professionally. But before she can finish the CIA process, Kate is offered a position as an espionage agent in another highly secretive government agency, which she accepts.

While completing her agency training, Kate is catapulted into a shadowy world where wealth and power are the ultimate goal, and those in charge will stop at nothing to get it. While on the job, Kate uncovers secrets that, if revealed, would cost her life, but if kept, could bring down a nation. Isolated and unsure of who to trust, she brings in a fellow agent, but pulling him into the web of conspiracy and lies puts a target on both their backs – and it will take every skill they’ve ever learned as agents to stay alive long enough to stop the enemy no one else can see.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“Ms. Edison, this is Officer Lyon.”

This was it. All my hard work, all the hours of studying—all the sacrifice came down to this moment. This phone call.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Officer Lyon,” I said, nervousness swirling in my belly. The phone in my hand felt big and heavy. I was sitting on my old bed, in the room I’d grown up in. The call needed to be made over a landline, and the best option was at my mom’s house. Though, if my mom had known what call this really was, she would have kicked me out of her house and slammed the door.

The room hadn’t changed much. My desk, where I had spent so much time, was still across from my bed, my old and likely useless computer still perched on top. The maps that showed the origins of all the languages I had intended to learn—marked with different-colored pushpins—still covered the wall above my desk. The same funny-nerdy science posters still flanked the maps. One read, “YOU MATTER. Until you multiply yourself times the speed of light squared. THEN YOU ENERGY.” That one still made me smile. Remnants of the sticky-sweet perfume I had used in my youth, in quantities far too large, still hung in the air.

Officer Lyon was all business. “This will be your first official interview with the Central Intelligence Agency. I must advise you that this call will be recorded, as well as all future calls, interviews, and interactions with the CIA throughout your interview process with us, however long that may be. This will likely be our most casual interview, so relax and answer the questions naturally. Please state your full name.”

I cleared my throat. “Katherine Elaine Edison. But please, call me Kate.”

“Ms. Edison.”

Right. I should have assumed formality would be important here. Mistake number one, check. That would be my last.

“I am curious to know if you have any notion as to why the CIA is interested in you.”

I didn’t mind talking about my accomplishments—I worked hard, after all—but I didn’t want to come off sounding self-important either. I thought through my words carefully. “Well, I speak several languages and graduated at the top of my class in both my undergrad and law school. I assume that has something to do with it.” I could have also mentioned that those schools were Ivy League, that my double major in international law and diplomacy and in journalism were both preferred programs at the CIA, and that I didn’t just graduate at the top of my class—I was the top of my class, as in the number-one student. But I assumed he already knew all of that and that it was how I had landed the interview in the first place.

If I came off sounding pompous, Officer Lyon didn’t react. “Those are all likely things that did add to your qualifications. What exactly do you think we do here in the CIA?”

Again, an answer I had to think about carefully. “I am aware that there are many different positions within the CIA: analytics, language, science, engineering, and technological positions, to name a few. Also, of course, directorate of operations.”

The last one—directorate of operations—was where I wanted to be. Where I was meant to be. Where my dad had been. The clandestine service of the CIA. This was my goal.

“Of course … the spies. I should tell you that if this is an area of interest for you, you will have to get in line,” Officer Lyon said. Derisiveness dripped from his words.

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to discourage me or motivate me with that comment. But I definitely felt the latter. I had worked hard for this opportunity. I kept myself out of trouble—not too hard a task when a person’s studies took up all of the daylight the sun had to offer and then some—and I was careful to only keep up friendships with people who also valued education and abiding by the law. I was always the girl who chose her studies over parties. When my friends were in need of a break from the monotony of school, they would go the beach for a weekend. While they were gone I cherished the quiet, taking the time to study harder. I never found school monotonous; I craved learning.

Officer Lyon asked questions for another thirty minutes. Then, before hanging up, he scheduled a face-to-face interview with me for the following week and recommended a book for me to read beforehand.

I smiled. I knew the book. I’d read it years ago.

Author Bio:

L.A. Clayton has been an avid reader her entire life, devouring books at an alarming rate. Her husband often jokes that if she didn’t buy so many books they could retire. She went to bed one night a reader and woke up with a fresh memory of a dream she’d had the night before, sat down and became a writer.

L.A. Clayton lives in St. Louis, MO with her husband and their four young children. She makes time for writing in between wiping noses and packing lunches.

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February 05, 2020

Spotlight: Temporary Wife Temptation by Jayci Lee

February 05, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Much more than he bargained for…“You want me to find you a wife?”“No. I want you to be my wife.”Garrett Song is this close to taking the reins of his family’s LA fashion empire…until the Song matriarch insists he marry her handpicked bride first. To block her matchmaking, he recruits Natalie Sobol to pose as his wife. She needs a fake spouse as badly as he does. But when passion burns down their chaste agreement, the flames could destroy them all…

Excerpt

Garrett resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder to check on her. Natalie was a grown woman and he didn’t need to protect her from being swarmed by admirers. Besides, she was the one who had proposed they refrain from other relationships, so she wouldn’t do anything to hurt his reputation or hers.

Earlier, at her apartment, he’d caught fire at the sight of her in her little black dress. It was demure compared to the one she’d worn at Le Rêve, but it hugged her hourglass figure and highlighted the curves underneath just enough to tease his imagination.

He walked to the bar for his Scotch and grabbed a flute of champagne from a server on his way back. As he’d anticipated, Natalie was now surrounded by a group of men and he lengthened his strides to reach her.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart.” He pressed a light kiss on her lips and handed her the champagne.

“Thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder when he pulled her to his side, playing her part like a pro.

“Natalie was just taking us to task about USC’s new head coach. It seems neither he nor I truly understand college football,” said one of Mike’s college friends.

“Is that so?” Garrett raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

“Taking you to task is a bit harsh.” She hid her grin against the rim of her champagne flute as she took a long sip. “It’s just that I have a better understanding than you guys.”

The audience winced and guffawed at her cheekiness. As Natalie continued with her lecture, all the men listened intently, as did Garrett. She was funny and down-to-earth, and her mind was quicker than lightning. Lost in her words, Garrett belatedly noticed the crowd had grown. Her champagne glass was depleted and her smile was becoming strained.

He leaned down close to her ear. “Tired?”

“And hungry.”

“All right, gentlemen. I’m whisking away my date now. I’m tired of sharing her.”

When the crowd finally dispersed, Natalie slumped against him with a groan. “I need food, champagne and somewhere to sit.”

A server walked over with a tray of bacon-wrapped shrimp and Natalie snatched a couple of them. She popped one in her mouth and mumbled around her food, “Not necessarily in that order.”

Garrett laughed and guided her toward the French doors leading out to the garden. Natalie ate every single hors d’oeuvre she met along the way and finished another glass of champagne.

“Holy cow. Is everything really, really delicious, or am I just famished? I would totally go back for that crab cake if my feet weren’t screaming at me to get my butt on a chair.”

He glanced down at her zebra-print high heels. They did amazing things for her legs but didn’t look remotely comfortable. “There’s a bench around the corner.”

“Oh, thank God.” She kicked off her shoes as soon as she plopped onto the seat.

Garrett shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before sitting next to her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, gazing at the garden. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

“Is it?” He and Mike had grown up tearing apart that very garden, but Garrett had never sat still and taken it all in, like they were doing now. “I guess you’re right.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He studied her profile, her high, regal cheekbone and the graceful curve of her neck. Half of her hair had escaped the loose knot behind her head and fell down her back and shoulders. He wanted to sweep aside her hair and feel the softness of her skin, which he absolutely should not do.

“So how do you know so much about college football?” He tore his gaze away from her and stared at an old maple tree ahead of him, hard enough to make his eyes water.

“Long story.”

“We’ve got time.” He made a show of checking his watch. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Her laughter filled the garden, then ended on a wistful sigh. “My dad and I, we weren’t very close. The only time he didn’t mind my company was when we watched college football together. He was a huge fan. I don’t think he even noticed I was sitting there half the time.”

Garrett understood what that felt like. As soon as he finished graduate school, he’d thrown himself into his work. It was satisfying in its predictability and it created a common ground for him and his father. His dad had stepped down from the CEO position when his mom died, but returned to Hansol a few years later as an executive VP.

“I thought if I learned enough about the sport, he’d like me a little better.” Her shrug told him it hadn’t worked, but Natalie told her story without an ounce of self-pity—like she owned her past, hurt and all. His respect for her deepened. “But soon I noticed I wasn’t faking my enthusiasm anymore. I’d grown to love the sport. Who knew it’d come in handy at an intimate birthday party for a hundred people?”

“You certainly won over quite a few of them.”

“I did?” Her eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

He huffed out a laugh. “Why did you think that crowd was hanging on to your every word?”

“Watch yourself, Garrett Song.” Natalie narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “I know where you live.”

He snatched her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Yes, and you’ll be living there with me starting Sunday.”

“Ugh.” She hooked an index finger in each of her shoes, not bothering to put them back on. “Do you ever stop thinking about work?”

“Yes.” He cocked his head and pretended to consider her question. “But only when I’m thoroughly distracted.”

Her lashes fluttered and color saturated her cheeks, and his gut clenched with heat. She could definitely become his most dangerous distraction.

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About JAYCI LEE

Jayci Lee writes poignant, funny, and sexy romance. She lives in sunny California with her tall-dark-and-handsome husband, two amazing boys with boundless energy, and a fluffy rescue whose cuteness is a major distraction. She is semi-retired from her 15-year career as a defense litigator, and writes full-time now. She loves food, wine, and travelling, just like her characters. Books have always helped her grow, dream, and heal. She hopes her books will do the same for you.