It's time for some Bookstore Love...
In the next month, Sarah Nego and I are releasing the Bookstore Love duology. These two standalone series books take place in the bookstore, Em-Dash. The heroine for book #1, Crazy Love, is Kali, the owner of the bookstore. The heroine of book #2, Tasty Love, is Val the owner of the bakery in the back of the bookstore.It's no secret that bookstores have a special place in my heart, but WOW...I adore these two books so much.
They feature two of my favorite tropes...Crazy Love is a enemies to lovers story, while Tasty Love is a second chance at love story. I hope you all love them as much as I do!
She has secrets that need to stay hidden. He’s digging into her life and her heart. Now they have to work together to organize the Aspenridge masquerade ball. It’s going to be a disaster.
When Kaliope Winters opened Em-Dash, the local bookstore, she did it because of a pure love of books...and the need to stay under the radar. But the vlog hottie stealing her wifi keeps making her blow her cool, which isn’t good, because she doesn’t need to draw his attention. He’s too gorgeous, too charming, and way too nosy.
When Tennyson Helms started his YouTube channel, he planned it to be temporary, not his forever career. Now Ten is trying to prove he’s got the chops to make it as an investigative journalist and thinks Kali will be his next big story. She’s acting way too suspicious. Unfortunately, he can’t decide if he wants to investigate her or kiss her.
Enemies-to-lovers takes a whole new meaning when the masks are dropped...
The Bookstore Love duology...
- Crazy Love
- Tasty Love (coming November, 2018)
Buy Now...HERE!
Chapter One
Tennyson
I
settled into the deep-red velvet club chair with a relieved sigh. Quiet . . . finally.
The tension in my shoulders released. I’d been carrying that since I’d stormed
out of my house.
Closing
my eyes, I inhaled the distinctive scent of books, paper, and words. This right
here was a perfect moment. If only she
would walk through. I eyed the closed door to her office.
She
hated me, but since discovering her, I’d realized I had a masochistic side.
I
liked pissing her off.
When
her eyes began to flash, my blood started to flow to all the right places.
I
should be thanking my clueless roommate, who had driven me here, instead of
cursing him.
If
I had to go hide out some place in Aspenridge, there were a lot worse places
than this tiny corner in Em-Dash, the local bookstore. Here in this corner,
under the gilt wood sign identifying this part of the store as Platform 9¾, I’d
found my escape, my secret place to work, my place to create, my place to
fantasize about the sexy owner who’d otherwise never give me the time of day. Although
she liked to give me a hard time.
She
never failed to let me know how much I annoyed her, but if annoying her was
what it took to get her to lay those beautiful eyes on me, then I was just the
guy for the job. I could be obnoxious with the best of them. It was my secret superpower
that had kept me labeled as the class clown instead of the nerdy dweeb who got
beat up and stuffed into a locker. And for the last few years, I’d managed to
make that pay off because it had brought me my YouTube following.
So,
yeah. I was basically dipping the tips of her pigtails in ink to get the girl
to notice me, but if it worked . . . I shrugged. I could be okay with looking
the role of the fool.
Luckily
for me, the store was almost always deserted, although that didn’t bode well
for the long-term security of my newly claimed workspace.
How
did this store stay open and stocked? They always had the newest titles on the
shelves but few, if any, customers. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the owner
had to be channeling some of the Harry-Potter witchcraft that she was so
obsessed with to produce profit. But since that wasn’t the way the real world
worked, there had to be something else at play.
The
entire store was decorated with the HP theme . . . lots of black-stained wood,
gilt letters, and the distinctive touches that signified the various houses
from the popular series. It should have seemed childish, but instead it came
across as elegant and even kind of cozy.
It
was the perfect place for me to escape and write. I opened up my iPad to a new
doc and began typing.
Ten with Tennyson – Episode 87
Top Ten Reasons to Live Alone
(Intro sequence)
Beginning: Hello, my minions.
Today we’re going to talk about something almost every person out there has to
deal with at some point in time. Roommates. The scourge of adulting everywhere.
If you are one of those who has never had to deal with this life-blow, consider
yourself a lucky bastard—and note (side-eye the camera)—I hate you even while I
wish I was you.
Unfortunately, roommates are a
fact of most of our lives. But you don’t have to live in this hell-on-Earth
forever. Today I’m here to share with you why it’s so important that you
rectify this heinous situation as quickly as humanly possible. In other words,
find yourself a sugar-daddy/momma, or make sure you’re setting yourself up in a
job that makes more than minimum wage.
Reason Number One.
If you don’t come up with
another circumstance, you could be condemning yourself to twenty years to life
living with a roommate, although this one will call you his bitch. Roommates
tempt a person to murder, and that’s never a good solution. Prison means a
roommate for life. (Shudder)
Reason Number Two.
Every guy out there likes porn.
Admit it guys, you may tell your girl or guy otherwise, but we all know it’s
the truth. But it’s just plain creepy when it’s live-action inside your house.
Getting horny from your roommate's girl’s orgasmic noises is guaranteed to make
breakfast awkward. Trust me on this. (Grimace with distaste)
I
shifted uncomfortably as that particular memory reared its head.
Aiden,
my roommate, wasn’t that bad. In fact, I really liked him. That was why I still
lived with him. There were just times when he got on my nerves, like when he
was having loud, awkward sex on our couch when I walked in the front door. It
was better to vent my frustrations through making fun of the situation on my
show than confronting him and causing a big fight.
Overall,
I liked to keep the peace, be the nice guy. Here in her bookstore was the only place where I let my other side out to
play, the one who wanted to push her buttons, actually encourage a fight.
Where
was the little diva/vixen?
I
glanced around the empty bookstore, and the cover of a book on rock climbing caught
my eye. What would it be like to be doing that as a career rather than making
my life as a YouTube vlogger? Hell, I could get one of those GoPro cameras and
do vlogs about my adventures on the edge of a rock face. That had to be more
exciting than my current job of making up inane top-ten lists.
Maybe
if I broke that story on . . .
“Hey,
Ten.”
I
looked up into Val’s open, smiling expression. The baker at Em-Dash had girl-next-door
good looks with red hair; a bronzed Latina, porcelain-smooth complexion; and
dark eyes.
Unlike
the owner of the store, who haunted my every dream, Val was actually the nice
one in the duo. It would be so much easier if I could crush on her. Hell, Val
would probably say yes to a date. If I dared to ask Kali, the odds were good
that I’d lose some fingers.
But
it wasn’t Val’s open smile that caught my attention. No, my attention focused
on the delectable aroma coming from the muffin she held on a plate in her
hands. Immediately my mouth watered.
“Tell
me that’s for me?” I was already reaching for it, not even waiting for her
answer.
She
laughed. “Yes. I need you to be my guinea pig. I made this new raspberry
cheesecake mocha chip muffin for the girls in the book club, but I’m not sure
it works. Will you taste test it?”
I
had it shoved halfway into my mouth before her words computed. “Book club?
Today?” I asked the question around the delicious muffin melting in my mouth. I
moaned at the burst of sugary goodness. “Oh, my god, this is so good.”
“Val!”
My
heart rate leapt. The one black blight—albeit a gorgeous one—on my utopian
existence in this small corner of the bookstore stalked out of the back room,
shooting daggers at the innocent baker.
I
rose, ready to step in front of Val to protect her from the wrath of Kaliope
DeWinters—chaos in every sense of the word and the owner of Em-Dash.
Her
mother had named her correctly as the Queen of Chaos. Kali was dark to Val’s
light, wrath to Val’s open smiles, a goddess of vengeance circling the edges of
the room, ready to smite any unwanted visitor to her store.
God,
she was sexy as hell.
She
glared at me even while she lectured Val. “If you feed the wildlife, they come
back. I’ve warned you about that.”
Yeah,
she didn’t like me much. Her silvery eyes flashed when she was in a temper, and
I liked getting under her skin, especially when the result made her even more
beautiful. I definitely had a masochistic streak.
She
presented herself to the whole of Aspenridge as a normal, respectable shop
owner, but I’d seen glimpses of other
that made my investigative brain stand up and take notice.
Under
her cardigan sweaters, I’d seen little peeks of tattoos.
Even
her bookstore, decorated in the benign Harry-Potter theme, gave me a sense that
there was much more to Kali DeWinters than she wanted the world to know. It was
like the Harry-Potter front was there to divert attention from the reality that
she was so much more Slytherin than Hufflepuff.
I,
for one, wanted to dig, find out all her secrets, find out what she hid under
her layers of respectability and clothing. I was pretty positive that she had a
serious wild-child underneath. That intrigued me.
“Oh,
come on, Kali.” Val shook her head at her business partner. “Ten doesn’t hurt
anything. If you keep driving off our customers, especially the good-looking
ones . . .” She waved a hand toward me.
My
face heated red. Val thought I was good looking? I studied Kali closer. Did she
think so, too? But I couldn’t read anything like that from Kali. My stomach
sank a little bit. She just continued to look annoyed . . . at me.
“The
girls from the book club are going to start hanging out over at Outdoor Highs
for their fireman fix,” Val continued.
Outdoor
Highs was the clothing store on the other side of the street that catered to
backpackers. The unfortunate result of its clientele, who were usually in the
mountains without access to a shower, meant that it smelled much more like body
odor and feet than the cinnamon and vanilla that wafted throughout Em-Dash. The
women in town tended to avoid it.
I
stopped their discussion. “Wait a minute. Book club is today? I thought that
was on Thursdays.” And it was Monday. I sure as hell didn’t want to be
subjected to the embarrassing comments from the book-club horde. Nothing made a
guy feel more like he didn’t measure up than to hear a group of women drooling
over the number of abs the local firefighters had on them. I tried to stay fit,
but . . . damn.
In
every other city in America, book club meant getting together to discuss the
merits of one author’s style of writing over another, or hypothesizing about
the symbolism the author meant to include in the text. Those were the kinds of book
clubs I always imagined my mom attending with her lady friends.
This
was not the case in Aspenridge. No, here, book club was a reason for the women
of the village to gather and ogle the fire station studs as they washed their
fire trucks. The meetings were legendary, and almost every guy in town
resented—or hell, if we wanted to be really honest, envied—the guys they focused
on for that lust. Although I’d heard rumblings from the married set that
evenings on book-club days were the highlight of their week.
Information
to be filed under facts you never wanted
to know about your neighbors.
Val
raised a mischievous, gleeful eyebrow. “Hawke found some rust on one of the new
trucks, so now the boys have to wash twice a week.” She let out a lusty sigh.
“I do love rust.” She cleared her throat and tried to fake an innocent
expression. “And books. It’s always about the books.”
I
snorted. “Yeah, you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but the fact is
this entire town knows what book club is really about.” I was talking to Val,
but I focused on Kali, letting the challenge show in my expression.
She narrowed her eyes at me and rested her
hands on her hips, which pulled her sweater just enough that I got a tiny
glimpse of black ink at her neckline.
My
mouth went dry. I wanted to see more so bad I almost ached. I wanted to strip
her clothes from her body. My dick began to thicken, and then she opened her
mouth.
“Since
you know all about it, you can leave.” She nodded her head toward the front of
the store. “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.” She turned
on her heel and marched back to the rear of the store.
She
really didn’t like me much. To be honest, she really wasn’t very nice. She’d
never win a Miss Congeniality title, but for some reason, that worked for me.
God, I was an idiot, but an idiot who would jump at the chance to earn one of
her rare smiles, learn what makes her tick, and get into her pants.
She
was sexier than sin, and I wanted to sin. With her. And that was why I couldn’t
stay away from her bookstore, no matter how much she insulted me.
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