Give us your best pitch! Welcome to Rockville8’s one-day Entangled Publishing Pitch Event. Today's the big day when six Entangled editors will take blog pitches for the following lines:
Flirt (10k-15k words)
Ever After (20k-40k words)
Lori Wilde's...Indulgence (50k-60k words)
Okay, here's how it's going to work today. Post your two-line pitch and the first 100 words of your story as a comment. Be sure to read the line descriptions linked above. Any level of heat works as long as a romance is central to the story, and the plot is intimately entwined with the building romance. Stories must end HFN or HEA. The event will close at midnight PST tonight.
Editors will then fight over the pitches that have been posted and we will post their submission requests a day or two after the event. So be sure to check back on Tuesday and Wednesday for status updates. Now, let's give them something to fight over! Go for it! Give us your best pitch. We want to see lots of homeruns.
For more details about the publisher or specific Editor's attending, see below.
About The Publisher: Entangled is a boutique publisher of romance fiction. They pride themselves on quality stories and commercial covers, and their innovative business model offers their authors the best of indie and traditional publishing. To find out more, see their website. And don't forget to look through their current open submission calls.
Entangled Editors Attending (See last week's post for their wish lists):
Adrien-Luc Sanders, Senior Editor
Libby Murphy, Associate Editor
Kerry Vail, Associate Editor
Kerri-Leigh Grady, Associate Editor
Josh Vogt, Associate Editor
Lewis Pollack, Associate Editor
So give 'em your best pitch. Good luck! Enjoy the event. It should be fun.
When sexy Italian Paolo del Fiorini rescues virginal Laura Harrison from wrongful arrest, he does not anticipate the sparks that fly as this feisty young woman decides that she will lose her innocence in more ways than he could imagine.
ReplyDelete“I cannot marry you.”
The elderly priest shrugged, palms raised to Heaven, but his face showed compassion for the bride-to-be. “If you can find someone to assist—otherwise, I regret I must leave shortly.”
Paolo del Fiorini ground his teeth to stop himself from uttering expletives. A church was no place for profanities, no matter the provocation, and would not help the bride and groom.
Giulia promptly burst into tears and turned into Gianni’s arms. Patting the distraught bride on the shoulder Paolo turned to his cousin, Gianni. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” he promised. “I’ll find someone.”
When Russian oligarch Pascha Virshilas discovers infamous environmental activist Siobhan Quirke hand-cuffed to his desk, he has no choice but to blackmail her into leaving the country with him...
ReplyDeletePascha Virshilas sat in the back of his Limo, his long legs sprawled out in front of him as he read the financial paper open on his muscular lap. Lips twitching, he scanned a feature article detailing the renewed vigour and alleged shady tactics being employed by Virshilas Oil in its rumoured lobbying for oil prospecting rights in Alaska.
Content his diversionary tactics were working, he folded the paper in half and placed it on the seat next to him. Pascha loathed the press. Sending those vultures on a wild goose chase gave enormous satisfaction.
A grad student’s anxious to escape her family’s lakeside diner, but when a slick Chicago contractor attempts to buy it, unexpectedly, she refuses his sweet deal and can’t resist him.
ReplyDeleteSadie's dad yanked the order slip off the kitchen’s archaic stainless-steel wheel. It spun about squeaking louder than the Foo Fighters’ tune playing on the jukebox. “Veggie burger and sweet potato fries, again? Doesn’t he know he’s in the dairy state?”
Sighing, Sadie glanced at her customer in the booth who dared to hunger for a meatless meal. The hunky blond construction worker, engrossed on his cell, luckily hadn’t heard her dad’s crabby outburst. “The guy’s eaten lunch here once a week since June. I heard he’s renovating the Wrigley mansion across the lake. You need to appreciate repeat clientele.”
Ooh, such good stuff so far! I'm still working on mine but I'll be back. Good luck, everybody!
ReplyDeleteThomas (Tommy) Conseco, the frightfully delicious owner of one of the top modeling agencies in New York City, demands respect which he has so rightfully earned. Aspiring models from around the world would sacrifice anything to become one of Tommy’s “girls” fully knowing he can make them a legend, or send them home crying.
ReplyDeleteBalarie Danson’s excited squeal shattered the eerie silence as she flipped the switch to her new office. Suddenly embarrassed by the scream of overflowing joy, she glanced around. She assumed, or at least hoped, no one else worked this late.
Finally, she landed the chance to prove to the fashion world what she could do. Feeling so close now, she could taste the sweet rewards from her years of dedication and struggling to get by.
She raced around her desk and dove into the dark brown chair on the other side, inhaling its leathery aroma. While nicely furnished with paintings and coordinated artwork . . .
Can Ty Wallace, the Council’s head witch hunter protect an unknowing rogue whose very existence holds the key to the Council’s continued reign on the world’s secret coven, or will his desire blind him to the danger? Running her business and keeping her own secrets, Parris McCall knows two things, one—the handsome man who just walked into her bar is wickedly dangerous, and, two—she wants him, bad.
ReplyDeleteSomewhere in this remote dive bar, crowded with humans, was a witch. As he walked through the wooden door into the Alibi, he felt her. The hair on his arms raised. Hell, he could smell her. Chamomile, thyme, mint, a surprising touch of vanilla, all mixed with a slight smell of sulfur. No doubt about it.
Ty Wallace ran through the register. Unless the witch was a sixty-year-old male high school chemistry teacher, she was undocumented and his responsibility.
He glanced down, wondering if his secretary knew what trouble she’d started. Her smile told him one thing. She was clueless.
When Eva loses her hand at her factory job, a Russian immigrant neighbor, a toymaker by trade, fashions her a mechanical hand that can do everything Eva’s lost limb could do – and more. Then her mother goes missing, and Eva has to come into her powers as a witch to find and rescue her from the Hospital of the Deranged -- and the clutches of Jack the Ripper.
ReplyDeleteThe sun fought its way through a gap in the heavy, maroon drapes covering the windows in the sewing room, a tiny space off the servant's quarters, not much smaller than the garret where Eva and her mother lived. The shaft of light exposed dust motes, like tiny stars in the reflection of the iridescent, lavender-blue satin of "Evening," Lady Holgrove's costume for the ball she had planned. The back and forth rhythm of Eva’s sewing summoned a dreamy state that pulled her away from her usual dreary day-to-day life as assistant to her mother, her ladyship’s seamstress.
Iggy is a senior member of an elite team of advanced people, with elemental powers, whose job it is to explore, secure, and research mysterious islands that appear every time, large chunks of land disappear in other places. Usually securing in teams, Iggy is forced to pair up with Calder, her long ago ex, and successfully work together to secure an island, while the baggage, of the woman he left Iggy for, is looming in the air.
ReplyDeleteThe portly doorman looked at me, like I was a freak. A giant blue-haired Amazon freak, that still clearly had an invitation. He rechecked a rather long list of names.
“Are you sure that you are at the right party?” he said in a naisely tone and eyed the thigh high slit in my dress.
“Positive,” I shifted my leg so that my ivory skin caught the light.
“Just a minute,” and as an afterthought he added, “please.”
The little fellow waddled his way over to the wall, and picked up a phone.
In need of a convenient bride, Flavian picks the polar opposite of his first wife who won’t provide the media with more negative publicity. A ring on her finger doesn’t seem too high a price to pay for getting back her grandmother’s possessions, but at the altar, Jinty realises her body might be, and her heart definitely is.
ReplyDeleteIf the eyes mirrored the soul then Count Flavian Rafael’s soul was angry. And so was his body from tense shoulders to curled fingers.
Only once before had he felt backed into a corner with no way out.
Anger erupted in one fluid sweep of his arm that cleared the desk of the offending newspaper articles behind Salvatore’s change of heart.
Uncurled fingers raking his hair, Flavian took command of himself. The way out of this problem evaded him. Still. His brain, hardwired to provide instant solutions, threw up just one.
Marriage. Thus bowing to Salvatore’s demand.
Dani Sullivan put her baby up for adoption eight years ago and has now accidentally discovered his whereabouts. Keeping her anonymity, she seeks out her son to ensure his happiness, but doesn’t count on the powerful attraction she feels for his now single father, the sheriff of Lake Bliss who believes in truth above all else.
ReplyDeleteOne of these children could be her son.
Dani Sullivan clutched the windowsill of her rented Lake Bliss bungalow. Her gaze darted among a small group of kids who played at the water’s edge. She searched each child’s features, desperate after eight years to see the sweet face of one little auburn-haired boy.
Her heart trounced in her chest.
Would she recognize anything of herself in the child? Or would his features trigger an unwanted memory?
She caught site of a young boy whose brown hair matched her own shade of curls at that age.
Her son?
When a man who sees dead people is hired as a last resort by the only survivor of a drug bust gone wrong, he desperately wants to help her clear her name—but for the first time ever, the dead stop talking. How can he solve the mystery without them and, even more importantly, how can he prove to her that he—and his love—are for real?
ReplyDeleteThe dead man got in the car as I turned off of Democracy Boulevard onto Greentree Road. I looked up to check the mirror and there he was, all upright and angles, in the front passenger seat.
“You need to stop,” he says, not looking me in the eye.
I shiver and pull my sweatshirt closed, zipping it up. “Stop what?”
He curls his lip. “Stop looking for trouble.” A thick red drop of blood slides from behind his ear, down the slope of his chin, and lands—plop—on my upholstery. “You won’t like what you find.”
Facing a homeless shelter, Jani is thrilled to be accepted into a residential clinical trial for her illness in a luxurious spa-like setting, until the dreamlike effect of the new meds dissipates and she begins to notice strange things. Could there be a price to be paid for this treatment—and could her handsome, caring physician Dr. Kassim be hiding something?
ReplyDeleteJani’s life was as grey and bleak as the worn, grimy carpet that covered the free clinic’s waiting room. The thin woman in the chair next to her barked out a series of coughs and Jani slid lower in the hard plastic chair, pulling her jacket up over her mouth and nose, trying to avoid the germs. That was all she needed, a virus on top of everything else.
Her jacket smelled like dryer sheet, a welcome change since someone in the area had a serious hygiene problem. Probably a homeless person, since this clinic was just a couple blocks from a big homeless shelter.
Pitch: Guardian angel Sienna Mitchell is in trouble the moment she discovers the man she’s sworn to protect is wearing an ancient cursed cuff that renders her angel powers ineffective. She’s catapulted into an arena where she’s not only fighting for the life of an emotionally wounded man who doesn’t believe he’s worthy of redemption, but she must also protect her own soul as she wrestles with her long-held and totally forbidden love for the embittered rogue while defending him from a dangerous Outcast with whom she’s shared a past.
ReplyDeleteFirst 100 Words:
Kane La’Bel, spawn of Satan, had not been exiled to Tibet after all. Instead, he knelt in the gray mud of a Pompeian villa carefully excavating an ornate marble table support.
The hair on Sienna Mitchell’s neck prickled. She didn’t want to be here. Not today. Not ever. But she’d been reassigned, whether she liked it or not. It had taken her half a year to track him to these ruins in Pompeii, and the Outcast might be close behind.
The London metrosexual looked more like a rugged California surfer than the suave, polished Head of Oxford’s School of Archaeology.
For the Flirt Line:
ReplyDeleteWhen undead starlets end up on a slab, for good, the only thing that can keep defensive witch Kim Hunter safe is the one vampire she'd hoped to never call...Erik Drayton. Will the vampire/witch team be enough to stop an ancient enemy returned from the dead?
First 100 words:
Kevin Hillaire was charming, for a dead man. I ignored the Paranormal Today lying on my desk and its bold headlines bemoaning his undeath. One day dead, and he was sitting in my office. Smiling. Sexy as hell. Bruises from his car accident had already started to fade. Lucky fledgling. Too bad his movie career was dead.
He also shot my preternatural alarm system off the charts. That meant he was rolling with some seriously old blood.
“You seem to have made a miraculous recovery, Mr. Hillaire.”
“Thank you. It was a rather—“ he cleared his throat. “Abrupt transition.”
A marriage of convenience turns on its axle when a balls-to-the-wall race car driver gets married, but then falls for his new sister-in-law.
ReplyDeleteFirst 100 Words:
“Seriously? When are you going to get it together?” Grace Cromwell asked her older sister with a huff. “I’m just trying to figure out how you plan to keep your fiance and your husband from killing one another. I can’t even get one guy to ask me out and you have two who ... oh I can’t fathom this.”
“I don’t remember marrying him, but now there’s a truck here moving his stuff in. What am I going to do?” Divina asked in a hushed, whiny panic.
“Do? You married him. He’s your husband. I’d open the door and say ‘Welcome home honey.’”
For Ever After line:Cinderella never wore Minuzos court shoes or spiked a volleyball, but she could’ve. When U. S. Olympic Volleyball setter Raquel Winters achieves her life-long dream and leads the U. S. national team to qualifying for the Olympic games in London, she faces her biggest nightmare in sexy bad-boy exposé photographer Sam O’Donnell who wants nothing more than to dethrone America’s Sweetheart by revealing her deepest, darkest secret to the world.
ReplyDeleteFirst 100 words:
The need to win dogged Raquel Winters like demons nipping at her heels. She set the volleyball. The soft brush of her fingers against the ball sent it gliding in a gentle arc to Jordan Aims for the kill. Raquel dropped back into a defensive position in case the big Brazilian across the net blocked the hit. Sweat dripped from her bangs, trailing down her face and into the sleeveless red, white, and blue practice jersey she wore.
The ball glanced off the blocker's wide-spread hands and landed outside the line. Point. And game. Hot damn. They'd done it again.
An addicted gambler and a retired Navy SEAL suffering from PTSD, must deal with their psychoses while staying one step ahead of a serial killer.
ReplyDeleteTina swallowed the bitter bile tickling her tonsils and turned away from the pale corpse stretched on the gray metal table. In the air formaldehyde rode tandem with a fetid, unfamiliar scent. Never again would the infamous Sylvia Cloud’s colossal gambling wins be the talk of Reno.
“Miss Cloud? Are you okay?”
The coroner’s question snapped Tina back from encroaching darkness. She forced her chilled lips into a semblance of a smile and bit her bottom lip when it wobbled. “I'm fine.” Fine as she could be seeing her mother in a morgue, wearing nothing but a sheet.
For the Flirt line.
ReplyDeletePitch:
Ice and ash, life and death. Isla Baron will risk everything to discover if love still exists under the debris of volcanic winter.
First 100 Words:
“It doesn’t matter if the world didn’t end the way they said it would. It ended anyway didn’t it.”
Ronin’s irritable tone brought a smile to her lips. “Well, yes and no my stalwart friend.” One thing Isla Baron counted on was the man’s sheer orneriness. If the sun ever touched their face again, no doubt he’d claim the brightness hurt his eyes. “We’re still here, Ronin. And so are the others. We’re meant for something.” She believed it.
“For what?” His contempt came through loud and clear. “Love?”
“No,” she paused. “Many things, but not that.”
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSeeking peace and sanity in her life, a thirtysomething accountant agrees to help her flamboyant movie star mother out of one last jam by posing as fiancée to Mom’s twentysomething fiancé when his dad arrives to stop the marriage. But it’s hard to keep up the charade when she finds herself falling for Dad instead.
ReplyDelete“The only car left in the lot is a stick?” In her rush to her mother’s summer place in South Carolina, Dina Maitland had neglected one of the basic details of traveling, reserving a rental car. In the peak of summer tourist season, that was a major oversight.
The older man behind the desk at the rental agency swatted a fly that had settled on the sleeve of his tee-shirt. “Don’t think I can be any plainer than that, ma’am. Gen’erly a few extras around this time of year, but not with the doin’s this weekend at the Clayton place.”
PITCH: The mortal Silvia is desperate to find the just right present for her about-to-be-4,000 year old demigod lover, Khrys, to help snap him out of his blues. When his immortal ex-wife crashes the surprise barbeque-bacchanalia and makes trouble, Silvia discovers the perfect present for the god who has everything is true love.
ReplyDeleteFrom the back of the palace hall, I watch Khrysaor tune out the sea merchants and pirates gathered to petition him to change the tides – justthisonce – in their favor. They ask every day. He declines. Every day.
We humans. Nothing if not persistent in our hopes.
I give him a thumb’s up and encouraging smile. He rolls his eyes, but focuses on the cabal before him.
I think his moodiness springs from his approaching birthday. After all, it’s not everyday a demigod hits the big 4-0-0-0, you know.
The prospect is forcing him to come to grips with his immortality.
The Playboy Prince privately moons over a spunky waitress. She’s focused only on graduation from Harvard; he’s avoiding a life preplanned by his controlling parents. Cute & quirky with colorful characters to help the two of them along the way to happily ever after.
ReplyDelete“Prince Charming asked for your section today.” The glass slipped out of Ami’s hand shattering on the hard terracotta tile. Bending over to pick up the broken pieces gave her a chance to formulate a response.
“Give it to someone else, I’m swamped right now.” Ami told the hostess without looking up. After dumping the shards into the trash she dashed into the kitchen.
Expertly weaving her way around the other staff, she laid a large tray on the counter. Pulling plates piled high with deli style sandwiches she saw Michael looking at her with raised eyebrows. She gave him a look of pure innocence, knowing she wasn’t getting away with anything.
The man who broke Anna's heart fifteen years ago has returned home. Her first problem is that the attraction is still there; her second problem is that he's now her boss!
ReplyDeleteAnna felt a prickling sensation along her arms, as though a breeze had swept through the room. She looked up and promptly forgot how to breathe. A tall man with broad shoulders strolled in, his gaze scanning the room until it met hers. It must have been her imagination, but his expression seemed to darken as she stood there, frozen to the spot. She should have smiled at him in recognition or at least nodded. But she did none of these things and strangely enough, neither did he.
His eyes broke contact with hers as Professor Golden stepped forward, eagerly shaking his hand.
A tarot counselor hears a new voice in her readings, after her step father’s tragic death, telling her to take control of his failing psychic spiritual center and save it. Later, she has cause to question the source of that guidance when it leads her to accept help from an ex-boyfriend she doesn’t trust and to a talent that could get her killed.
ReplyDeleteHecate Pettygrew glared at the safe. When that didn’t work, she punched it. Where’s my goddess energy now? she thought, looking down at a chipped nail. “Damn.” She hit the safe again.
“Where is all this violence coming from, Catie,” Martha Peterson asked from the doorway. “You having a bad day?”
Martha had arrived early to help Cate go through the mountains of paperwork in Marcus Pettygrew’s office at the Spirit Center. He’d been dead six months, but still Cate felt he might walk through the door at any moment and accuse her of snooping.
Reposted by The Eight from comments of 1.15.12 pitch announcement: ann@annbharrison.com said...
ReplyDeleteAimed at Lori Wilde's Indulgence Line.
Put a city gal with two troubled kids next door to a wealthy bachelor cowboy and watch the sparks fly.
Will Libby Holland meet the terms of her uncle’s will and gain her inheritance and a new family in the process, or will Nathan Miller get his way and force her back to the city?
Nathan Miller cringed at the angry conversation running betwwn the surly teenager and the harassed looking women as they burst through the door into reception of the quiet legal firm. A young girl trailing behind them looked at Nathan, her wide eyes filled with fear. Feeling sorry for the two kids, he turned back to the copy machine. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to be parents, he thought.
“Libby Holland to see Mr Thomas.’ Her voice was confident.
Tightening her grip on the boys arm, the women leaned down and spoke quietly.
“Just tell me, Josh what you’ve done.”
Paige Bremmer doesn’t work out. She’s more of a yoga-doing, stretching kind of girl. But when Charlie Guffrey, super endurance marathon runner crosses her path, she’s sure she can run a marathon in no time, and top his time. Is 26 months enough time to prepare for 26.2 miles??
ReplyDeleteChasing the Marathon Man
I am not a patient person. I was born a preemie, 2 months early and so, I am always impatient, ready for things to get moving along, and I tend to get annoyed when others don’t follow through and do the same. So it came as no surprise that when I wanted to become a runner, I was impatient for myself to instantly become a good runner. After all, I had the drive, the determination, and hmm..I needed a good pair of sneakers. Preferably ones with wings that would fly me by Charlie- or Guff, as all the trades called him.
Of course, our first meeting was anything but smooth…rather, tripping over my own feet in front of Philadelphia’s hottest and most talented athlete was a little embarrassing. Those blue eyes, that sculpted body...oh. Hot now.
Reposted by The Eight from 1.15.12 comments on pitch annocement:
ReplyDeleteKassanna said...
This is for the Ever After Line. The name of my book is, Don't Touch My Kitty.
Milla James is the rough and ready African-American owner of an import/export company that operates under various shades of gray within the law. Exporting a cargo of exotic animals she runs into pirates while trying to out run poachers in an effort to save a panther shifter,Alejandro Cavalcanti.
Indigo water swirled around them climbing higher. Milla pulled with all her strength, beneath her the cage shook and black paws with sharp extended claws scraped across the metal bars. The torrential rain fell in sheets, pelting her body with small liquid projectiles. The wind blew the water into her face, saltwater spray, burned her eyes. Fingers slipped off her shoulder, then grabbed at her arm again.
“Leave him, we can’t wait any longer. There is nothing more you can do.” She saw her first mate’s outline through blurred vision.
Milla shook the hand off her arm, screaming in frustration.
January 22, 2012 6:49 PM
Challen Curtis breezes into the metro suburb of Shady Oaks, to complete the merger with Hensley & Smithe construction and oust the acting female CEO. Eleanor Hensley won't got down without a fight, she's armed and ready for Challen with thirty days and fifty-two ways to flirt.
ReplyDeleteLena Eleanor Hensley’s father always told her that “no matter how bad she thought she had it, look around, somebody’s got it worse”. Today, Ellie felt like everyone was staring at her.
“Lonely sympathetic widow stares? Fine. Gossiping blue hairs at the salon? I’m sooo over it.” Ellie shrugged and thoughtfully swirled her steaming cup of coffee. “But this…” She sighed. “I’d rather take a bath in this cup of joe than star in the next headline of The Shade.”
“Oh, come on.” Ellie’s best friend Lilly chided, setting aside the magazine she had been reading. “It can’t be that bad. Spill.”
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ReplyDeleteFor the Flirt line:
ReplyDeleteCharlotte Lightwood has one season to find a husband or she’ll be forced to marry her guardian’s odious cousin, but things really get interesting when she’s propositioned by the most sought-after earl in London.
“It will be mortifying if no one will stand up with her.”
The thoughtless comment stilled Charlotte Lightwood’s toying with the dance card secured to her wrist. As if her head wasn’t already swirling with thoughts of all the things that could go wrong. The last thing she needed was Elizabeth suggesting more ways in which she could be humiliated at her first London ball. She took a deep breath and did her best to appear patient and serene. Her future depended on this season, her one chance to find a husband of her choosing.
For the Indulgence Line: Kathleen Witte is a forever-minded girl – the very last thing Jackson Taylor wants in his life. But when they wash up on a Mexican beach – married – they have to figure out how to work together before both their lives implode from the scandal.
ReplyDeleteThe earth was moving.
Kathleen Witte shifted, and her shoulder dug into damp sand. Her eyes flew open, and she winced at the bright sunlight.
She slept on the beach? And her. . .Sweet Mary, Mother of God, where were her clothes?
Quickly, Kathleen flipped over so that she was laying stomach-down on the sand. She inhaled sharply as a splash of water reached her feet. A reflection high above caught her eye. Twin A-shaped V's rose out of the bushes and trees on the cliff, both filled with high windows. Her villa. Thank you, God.
Pitch for Indulgence.
ReplyDeleteIndiana Jane meets Jethro Gibbs, NCIS.
CJ Howard expected trouble the way some people anticipated luck.
Tonight was no exception.
The click of a door echoed in the dim, deserted hallway, and she ducked back, flattening her body against the discolored wall of the aging Lake Tahoe club. The cold crept through her slowly. Sneaking around deep in the back of the Lucky Nickel Casino could get her dead. Her stomach muscles knotted with the reminder.
Chill. Just do this.
She counted to three and peered around the corner.
All clear.
If she didn’t find El Peligro’s dirty bomb, Hollywood’s A-List was going to go boom.
A meteoric rise to fame in the fashion world and the devastation of a broken engagement have not made Laurel Birmingham forget her first real love: Ryder Grey. But Ryder has changed from a fun-loving football star into a straight-laced, responsible adult and it is going to take a serious redesigning of both their lives if they are ever going to have a second chance at love!
ReplyDelete"In a world where many women spent massive amounts of money each year to maintain a nuclear orange-glow all year round, it was probably blasphemy to celebrate the loss of a perfect vacation tan.
Inspecting the almost perfectly even porcelain tone of her skin. Pale by nature, it was good to see that the color gained from her most recent sunny idyll had all but faded, taking with it the last trace evidence of the engagement ring that had once proudly rested there, leaving the skin beneath it noticeably pale."
Ever After line.
ReplyDeletePitch:
A teacher and self professed geek with a thing for eighties band shirts, returns to her home town, but finally singing again and restoring her battered confidence means working with the super hot, jerk that took Jemma on her first date, and kissed her until she was dizzy… for a bet.
When the once cute, awkward girl who broke Mitchell Alexander’s teenage heart, shows up to audition for his band, and is still just as cute and awkward as ever—he knows he’s in serious trouble.
First 100 Words:
“Is anyone else coming?” Mitch waited while Scott put down his drumsticks, pulled a crumpled supermarket receipt from his shirt pocket and flattened it face down on the snare drum.
“Ah huh,” he squinted down at the piece of paper, “Jemima, or Jackie?” He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I can’t read my writing.”
“That’s it?”
His friend shrugged. “People aren’t exactly lining up for the job. I just hope she’s better than the last guy.”
“That was some scary shit right there. I didn’t know it was possible for a dude to sing that high or that off key,” Harry said, adjusting the strap of his bass.
When Andrea McGlashan wakes to find her supervisor, Jon, dead on his office floor, she must follow the psychic clues she receives during her seizures to find the killer. But when Andrea’s father is ransomed for information the kidnapper believes Jon gave her, Andrea now finds herself in a race against time to rescue him. Andrea must find the files that caused Jon’s death in order to save her father, with the help of Jon’s brother, Mac, to whom she is becoming increasingly attracted.
ReplyDeleteLine: Flirt
ReplyDeleteThe last person Andrea Manconi expects to see at her life-long best friend's Christmas wedding is Marshall Isley, the man who charmed the pants off of her ten years before with his sweet words, and then disappeared. She just has to survive the next twenty-four hours without falling under his spell again, but that proves easier said than done when he tells her the real story of what happened all those years ago, and she realizes that the man who symbolizes the worst period of her life may just be the most wonderful man she’s ever met.
If I hear one more singer crooning on about the holiday spirit, I’m pulling the emergency latch and pitching myself out head first.
Andrea yanked the headphones from the plug in disgust, thinking that maybe she should have broken down and purchased some songs from iTunes, but that would have required her to figure out how to download music to her phone, and she’d barely learned to text on the damn thing.
Lord, she hated the holidays, hated everything about them: the music, the “Christmas cheer”, the desperate people ready to trample their fellow man to snag a low-cost electronic.