Meet the Author:
Full-time author, freelance writer and workshop facilitator, Julie Rowe’s debut novel, Icebound, was released by Carina Press on Nov 14, 2011. Ten novels and eight anthologies have followed. Her most recent titles are the MEN OF ACTION boxed set and VIRAL JUSTICE book #3 of the Biological Response Team series. Julie’s articles and short stories have appeared in numerous magazines, such as Romantic Times Magazine, Today's Parent magazine and Canadian Living. Julie facilitates business writing and communication workshops at Keyano College in her home city, and has presented writing workshops at conferences in the United States and Canada. She’s also a strong supporter of life long learning and moderates a free announcement loop for the promotion of online classes, workshops and webinars.
About the Book:
Dr. Carmen Rodrigues, CDC’s Outbreak Task Force director, is on the hunt for a killer–– an airborne virus spreading from Florida across the States, gaining traction with each passing moment. Although she’ll never forget her one night with sexy bodyguard John Dozer in Afghanistan, his protective nature is one distraction she doesn’t need right now.
Ex-Army Intelligence officer John Dozer will put his life on the line for beautiful, independent Carmen. Every. Time. Even when she pushes him away. And now, with her struggling to contain an outbreak likely triggered by domestic bio-terrorists, maybe even insiders at the CDC, she needs him more than ever. He lost her once. He’ll never let that happen again.
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Read an Excerpt:
She took in a deep breath. “We need to talk.”
“Your role with the CDC, and whatever it was you were doing in Afghanistan after...” She wanted him gone. He could tell by the closed off expression on her face and the slightly lifted set of her chin. She expected him to fight her. Was waiting for it. Braced for it.
It set off an emotional bomb deep in his chest and woke the pissed off protector inside him. The one who wanted to grab hold of her, kiss her until she looked at him with the world in her eyes again. He would not let anyone hurt her, Not even himself.
Some of it must have shown on his face, because she backed up a couple of steps.
If she got any whiter, she was going to faint.
He slid closer to her and said with all the softness he could muster, “You look like you just took a gut-shot. So, I’m going to ask this again. What happened?”
“Two men from the Justice Department met me at the airport last night. They wanted me to go with them to give them a statement about the incident in Afghanistan.” She put air quotes around the word incident. “They were very unfriendly when I said no.”
“They’re supposed to be assholes, that’s part of what they do—put the fear of God into people.” He sidled another step closer, within reaching distance. “A lot of sh…stuff happened that day.”
They’d survived more than one attempt to kill them that day.
He’d fallen in love with her that day.
And the next day…she’d run from him.
The memory combined with the ache of healing bones in his chest, creating a caustic mix of concrete plugging up his lungs.
The struggle to breathe made him stop and think past the pain, past the panic.
Wait a second… It had been nine years. They’d given all the reports, statements, and evidence right after the incident. Why the fuck would anyone need anything from either of them now?
Something about what she said sank in.
“They wanted you to go with them?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Yes.” Her gaze was angry, confused, and…sad.
His stomach dropped in a sickening rush and the world spun in place for a long second. “Why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t. The Drill Sergeant was picking me up for an emergency meeting with the CDC director, who wanted a report on my briefings in Washington. DS told the two agents exactly how they could go fuck themselves. They tried to intimidate him physically, but, well, you can imagine how that went.”
“He raised his voice?”
“He ripped them apart so badly security came to see what all the fuss was about. The two men left after promising things would get tougher for me.”
The dizziness retreated.
He was going to kiss that old man when he saw him next.
“I need to make a call.” He grabbed his phone and punched in the numbers to a buddy of his in the Justice Department. A minute later, he had his answer.
“No one from the Justice Department was sent to interview you or bring you in.” He saw his own hand shaking. Someone had tried to take her. In a public place. In front of any number of witnesses.
Who the fuck could be that brazen?
“What?” she stared at him, her brows furrowed.
“Someone tried to take you.” There was a snarl in his voice he couldn’t suppress. “Someone almost got you.”
When he caught up with that someone, he was going to rip the fucker’s guts out.
Series: American Street Kings #2
Author: Bella J.
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense/MC
Release Date: August 28, 2019
Infatuation is a dangerous thing.
It devours you. Manipulates you. Owns you.
You can try to ignore it, try to move past it. But itâs more powerful than you. It wonât let go.
The day I first saw him, infatuation dug its claws into my soul. I couldnât stop it. Everything faded. Except him.
My infatuation blinded me. Made me see what it wanted me to see. Now Iâm lost within the lie. Caged by the beast.
In the end, he will have me.
Until thenâ¦I fight.
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A tear slipped down my cheek. It was amazing how he could trigger these emotions in me merely by being close. He didnât have to say a word. He didnât have to touch me. He simply had to stand there and breathe.
I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand. âGranite, please leave.â My voice was louder this time, sorrow slowly building my strength.
Nothing. Not a word.
I clutched my stomach tighter, heartache spreading everywhere, filling every crack, threatening to shatter me into a million pieces. I didnât want to break in front of him. Not again. But I couldnât stop it. This man managed to engrave himself on my soul, penetrating every part of my being, consuming me to a point where breaking was the only way to get a little relief from constantly trying to fight it. To fight him.
âPlease,â I whispered as a tear rolled over my lips and I could taste my own sadness. âIt hurts too much to be close to you.â
Pain built its way through every bone in my body until it finally erupted. I shot up.
âPlease leave!â My voice slammed against the walls, anger echoing from my words. I turned around, ready to lash at him, only to find he wasnât there. He was gone.
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Depraved must be read before Defiant
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All the way from Cape Town, South Africa, Bella J lives for the days when sheâs able to retreat to her writerâs cave where she can get lost in her little pretend world of romance, love, and insanely hot bad boys.
Bella J is a Hybrid Author with both Self-Published and Traditional Published work. Even though her novels range from drama, to comedy, to suspense, it's the dark, twisted side of romance she loves the most.
She has every reason to hate her ex …
Every day on her way home from work, Dove Damiani drives past her ex-house, where her ex-husband lives with her ex-dog and her ex-yoga instructor, next to her ex-neighbors and the ex-life she once affectionately described as “frighteningly perfect.”
To outsiders, Dove is bitter and resentful. The divorce left her alone, with nothing but a set of car keys and 50% of a paltry savings account.
...but it doesn’t mean she wants him dead.
When the lifeless body of her former husband is discovered in the birch grove outside Dove’s apartment on what would have been their fifth wedding anniversary, investigators waste no time making Dove a person of interest. She swears she didn’t do it. She’s never so much as killed a spider in her thirty years.
But as evidence mounts against her, Dove finds herself questioning her memory, her sanity, and even—her innocence.
She saw me.
But in my defense, I wasn’t trying to be inconspicuous. I wasn’t trying to sneak by unnoticed. It’s not illegal. I wasn’t harassing her. I would never do those things. This isn’t about me getting revenge, this is about you getting justice by any means necessary.
I slowed to a crawl when I got to the house, trying to grab a quick mental snapshot before speeding off. But all I gleaned was that she was home—evidently alone—and she was peering out the living room window, her body poorly masqueraded behind a curtain panel.
Hands gripping the wheel, I turn off Blue Jay Lane and head back to my side of town, the window half rolled down and the radio tuned to some Top 40 station.
I find it interesting that your parents aren’t there to console her—or to be consoled by her. If we were still together, your parents and I would’ve been inseparable from the second news broke.
It makes me wonder what they think of her, if they find it odd that you spent twenty years with me and the instant you bring someone new into the picture, you’re mysteriously murdered. Of course Michael and Lori are too kindhearted to make their opinions known to anyone but themselves, but I can imagine the connection they’re drawing and I can imagine it matches the one I’m drawing myself.
In less than ten minutes, I’m back home.
I strip out of the day’s clothes and wash up before crawling beneath the chilled covers of my lumpy used mattress. My thoughts go to her. To Kirsten. The way she peered out from behind the curtain as if the backlit living room wouldn’t give her silhouette away. It’s like a cat that thinks it’s hiding beneath a chair, tail sticking out to give it away.
I stare at the ceiling for several endless minutes, mind spinning, before I relent and grab my phone off my nightstand. The screen flashes to life and I wince as I dial down the brightness and tap in my code. A second later, I type your name into a search engine to see if there are any new developments. The top result in an article on CNN, but the timestamp shows it was posted earlier this morning. No updates. I check the articles on the three local news stations in the area, but the information is stale and recycled.
They still don’t know who killed you and they haven’t released an official cause of death.
I can only pray it was quick.
I don’t like to think about you suffering.
A yawn hits me out of nowhere and the phone turns to dead weight in my hands. Looks like I might get some sleep tonight after all.
In the seconds before retiring for the night, I decide to perform one last search …
… on Kirsten.
Why I never thought to do it before is beyond me. Then again, I’ve always taken people at face value. The first time we met was when she came to deliver some mail of mine at my paint-n-sip and introduced herself as my business neighbor, the owner of Best Life Yoga. Everything about her was Zen and graceful and centered, the way a yoga instructor should be. We met again after that at a mixer for local business owners. She ran up to me, excited to see a familiar face, and we talked all night like two people who’d known each other their whole lives.
Our close friendship spanned two years, and not once did I ever think she would do what she did. Not once.
You think you know someone, Ian …
She duped us both, I’m afraid.
I type “Kirsten Best” into the search bar and the results assume I’m searching for “Kirsten Dunst.” Sighing, I type in “Kirsten Best Detroit, Michigan” and try again. Results populate the screen in seconds, and I start at the top with an unused LinkedIn account, before continuing to an article about a legal aid under scrutiny for embezzling—the photo does not match. The third result is a memorial. I click on the headline.
A black and white photo of a good-looking man with dark hair and dimples, unquestionably too young for an obituary, takes the upper left-hand corner. I scroll down and find his name—Adam Nicholas Meade. And then his age—twenty-seven. His obituary is brief, mentioning that he grew up in Detroit, worked as a welder, and passed unexpectedly.
There’s no mention of parents or siblings, just that he had a lot of friends …
… and that he is survived by his fiancée, Kirsten Best, of Detroit, Michigan.
Sunday Tomassetti is the pseudonym of a Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Amazon Charts, and #1 Amazon bestselling author who wanted an outlet for her passion projects. A thirty-something married mother of three, Sunday resides in the midwest where you can always find her hard at work on her next novel.
Sunday is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.
“Lincoln and Wren had me flipping through the pages frantically, begging for more. Their chemistry was explosive, their love story both hilarious and tender.”- L.J. Shen, USA Today bestselling author
Handle With Care, an all-new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is available now!
HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.
Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman
SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.
Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.
Download your copy today!
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4 Heart Review by Ashley
What a fun addition to the Shaking Up series! Helena Hunting never fails to deliver a wonderful blend of romance, humor and drama and Handle With Care was exactly that.
I LOVED Wren. The way she roped in Armstrong (ugh- yes, he's still lurking around). But more for the way she saw Lincoln. How she used his strengths to help build up his weaknesses. How she helped him step in and up to handle things.
I connected so much with Lincoln. A lover of the outdoors, getting your hands dirty, working to change things that have a big impact. Not fretting over the small things that in the grand scheme of things don't really matter. His relationship with G-mom. How he shut down Armstrong (throws confetti). how when his hand was forced, he did what he had to do.
Holy smokes! The web of deceit and secrets Lincoln stumbled upon while trying to sort things out. His range of emotions- from shock to confusion to anger were totally justified. Heck, my jaw was on the floor. And through it all there was this growing, bubbling sexual tension. The anticipation was so worth the way though. Wren and Lincoln's chemistry was off the charts hot!
Helena Hunting went for it with this one and it paid off big time. This office romance, with a touch of the forbidden, lots of laughs and a whole lot of family drama kept me glued to my kindle. Wren and Lincoln's story was the perfect bridge between the Mills and Moorehead family connection. After finishing Handle with Care I am really looking forward to see what's coming up next in this series.
Excerpt:“You have a suit fitting tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning? I have lots of suits; I’ll make one of those work.”
“Are they like the ones you wore to the funeral?” I ask.
“Well, they may have fit you five years ago, but they certainly don’t fit you now. I’ll text you the details and add them to your personal calendar.”
“You can’t do that without my cell number.” His smugness would be grating if I wasn’t two steps ahead of him.
I flash a fake smile. “I already have all of your personal details, Lincoln. Right down to your shoe size. And you can’t be late like you were this morning, so it might be a good idea to avoid the scotch tonight so you’re less bear and more human. You’ll need to use these things called manners. I can email you a refresher on what those are, should you need it.”
“Sarcasm is a weapon of the weak.”
My ears are on fire as he heads for the door. Jerk. I was being witty, not sarcastic. “Thanks so much for offering to help clean up the mess you made.” I turn to address the crinkled papers scattered on the floor.
It’s common courtesy to offer assistance if you’re the one who made the damn mess. Even Armstrong, who is the most epic of douches, has some manners. Usually he’ll try to look up a skirt or down a shirt while he’s being polite, but it’s better than this.
I turn to retrieve the papers when two things happen, a power surge ramps up the box fans—it happens at least twice a day, and at the same time Lincoln pulls the door open again. The simultaneous actions create a vortex of air inside my office, and my skirt flutters into the air. Like I’m Marilyn Monroe and I’ve stepped onto one of those subway grates. The fabric rises quickly, and a breeze hits me right between the legs, which is the exact moment I remember that I’m not wearing panties. Because they were covered in the coffee Armstrong spilled in my lap.
I drop the papers and battle the fabric back down. It’s fruitless, though, the wind tunnel whirls through the room like Dorothy’s freaking tornado, and the back of my dress goes up. I meet Lincoln’s gaze from across the small room. All it takes is a second of eye contact before those ridiculously blue eyes pull me in, and weird, inappropriate things start happening to my body. It’s irritating as hell. I don’t even like this guy, but my body seems as if it hasn’t gotten the same memo as the rest of me. Even more aggravating is the realization that based on his expression, he totally caught an eyeful of cooch.
Lincoln stands frozen at the door, eyes wide and fixed on my crotch, mouth hanging open.
“Close the damn door!” My voice is siren high. And loud.
“Right. Yes. I’m going. Now.” He steps out of my office, pulling the door closed behind him.
My dress settles around my knees. “Dammit.” I drop into my chair, which is probably what I should’ve done as soon as the wind tunnel started, but clearly I’d been too panicked to think straight.
On the upside, I went to see my waxer last week, so he’s seen my girl bits when they’re looking their finest.
On the downside, my project for the next six months has seen my naked girl bits.
About the Author:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.
Connect with Helena:
Facebook Fan group: http://bit.ly/340v5tQ
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Title: The Plus Ones
Author: Kayley Loring
Genre: Contemporary Romance/
Steamy Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: Alyssa Garcia, Uplifting Author Services
Release Date: September 26, 2019
Love changes people.
Iâm the first to admit that I, Keaton Bridges, used to be an immature, entitled ass.
Okay, maybe Iâm the second to admit itâafter Roxy Carter.
But Iâve seen what true love has done for my friends, and I want it for myself.
Somehow, Iâm the only single guy left.
Somehow, sheâs the only single girl.
The only time Foxy Roxy hasnât been a loudmouth?
That time we were making out at our best friendsâ wedding.
And every time weâve seen each other in the five years since then,
because she refuses to talk about it.
Well, sheâs going to have to talk to me now.
Itâs the dead of winter, and our six best friends were planning a getaway
at a Caribbean couples-only resort.
One of the couples had to drop out, and I refuse to be left out in the cold.
All Roxy and I have to do is pretend to be in love for one week so we can
spend some much-needed time with our favorite people.
And all I have to do is pretend Iâm not dying to kiss her again.
Before writing steamy romantic comedy novels, Kayley Loring got a BFA in creative writing from a Canadian university and had a fifteen-year career as a screenwriter in Los Angeles (under a different name). She mostly wrote PG-13 family comedies that studios would pay her lots of money for and then never make into movies. In 2017 she decided to move to the Pacific Northwest and write about all the fun stuff that she wasn't allowed to write about in those PG-13 scripts. Now sheâs breathing cleaner air and writing dirtier words. Itâs an adjustment sheâs happily getting used to.
Series: Cunningham Security #6
Author: A.K. Evans
Genre: Contemporary Romance
with a touch of suspense
Release Date: August 27, 2019
Sometimes your first love needs a second chanceâ¦
A boy from the wrong side of the tracks, Trent Michaels never cared what anyone thought of him. That is, until the girl he fell in love with broke his heart in the worst way possible.
Delaney Rogers knows she made the biggest mistake of her life when she allowed Trent to walk away from her. So, when Trent unknowingly rescues her baby fifteen years later, Delaneyâs relieved sheâll finally have the chance to make things right.
The only problem is that Trent canât bear to look at the woman he loved and lost. The woman who now realizes just how much damage sheâs done.
Following a series of accidental encounters, Trent soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. And Delaney is hoping for a second chance to prove that it wasnât him who was unworthy.
It was her.
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3.5 Heart Review by Ashley
My first book by A.K. Evans was a treat. I always love me a good second-chance romance that and is exactly what I got in Unworthy. The opening alone roped me in and I invested in the sweet, honest and pure love between teenage Delaney and Trent.
All free in Kindle Unlimited
A.K. Evans is a married mother of two boys residing in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania, where she graduated from Lafayette College in 2004 with two degrees (one in English and one in Economics & Business). Following a brief stint in the insurance and financial services industry, Evans realized the career was not for her and went on to manage her husbandâs performance automotive business. She even drove the shopâs race cars! Looking for more personal fulfillment after eleven years in the automotive industry, Andrea decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer.
While Andrea continues to help administratively with her husbandâs businesses, she spends most of her time writing and homeschooling her two boys. When she finds scraps of spare time, Evans enjoys reading, doing yoga, watching NY Rangers hockey, dancing, and vacationing with her family. Andrea, her husband, and her children are currently working on taking road trips to visit all 50 states (though, Alaska and Hawaii might require flights).
What do you do when you’re the reigning kissing booth champion but the only person you want to kiss is your best friend’s brother?
Kiss Me Not, an all-new hilarious brother's best friend romance from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is available now!
Let me make this clear right here, right now: I, Halley Dawson, do not care that Preston Wright is kissing other women.
Not a lick. Not at all. Nuh-uh-freakin’-uh.
I do care that he’s doing it six feet away from me behind a gaudy velvet curtain—making him my competition in this year’s kissing contest.
Why do I care, you ask? Because I’ve had an unfortunate crush on the insufferable idiot since I was sixteen years old, but I also know it’s never going to happen.
He’s the Creek Falls bachelor to die for, and I’m the Creek Falls racoon lady who puts peanut butter sandwiches out for them every night.
I’m not going to let him break my four-year-long reign—no matter how many times he breaks the rules and slides the curtain across to do the one thing he’s not allowed to:
Download your copy today!
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About Emma Hart
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.
Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.
Yes, really. She's that sarcastic.
Connect with Emma
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2Dq42ez
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2EBbZNe
Stay up to date with Emma by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2NtAbca
We are beyond excited to be sharing this release from Rachel Van Dyken with you today! ABANDON is part of her Seaside Pictures series and it is releasing as part of 1001 Dark Nights. It just went live today! Check out an excerpt and book trailer from the title below. Click here to grab your copy now.
Purchase your copy of ABANDON today!
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/AbandonRVD
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken comes a new story in her Seaside Pictures series…
It’s not every day you're slapped on stage by two different women you've been dating for the last year.
I know what you're thinking. What sort of ballsy woman gets on stage and slaps a rockstar? Does nobody have self-control anymore? It may have been the talk of the Grammy's.
Oh, yeah, forgot to mention that. I, Ty Cuban, was taken down by two psychotic women in front of the entire world. Lucky for us the audience thought it was part of the breakup song my band and I had just finished performing. I was thirty-three, hardly ready to settle down.
Except now it's getting forced on me. Seaside, Oregon. My band mates were more than happy to settle down, dig their roots into the sand, and start popping out kids. Meanwhile I was still enjoying life.
Until now. Until my forced hiatus teaching freaking guitar lessons at the local studio for the next two months. Part of my punishment, do something for the community while I think deep thoughts about all my life choices.
Sixty days of hell.
It doesn't help that the other volunteer is a past flame that literally looks at me as if I've sold my soul to the devil. She has the voice of an angel and looks to kill—I would know, because she looks ready to kill me every second of every day. I broke her heart when we were on tour together a decade ago.
I'm ready to put the past behind us. She's ready to run me over with her car then stand on top of it and strum her guitar with glee.
Sixty days. I can do anything for sixty days. Including making the sexy Von Abigail fall for me all over again. This time for good.
Damn, maybe there’s something in the water.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Add ABANDON to your Goodreads TBR here!
Purchase your copy of ABANDON today!
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/AbandonRVD
“You ready?” I gripped my drumsticks tightly in my right hand as the screaming from the crowd pierced my ears, causing an onslaught of adrenaline to pulse beneath my skin.
Drew, one of the leading frontmen for our band, Adrenaline, rolled his eyes and shot me a middle finger. Then he straight-up tugged his leather pants down below his hips to show off his legendary V.
We get it, bro, you’ve got an eight-pack where there’s usually only six.
With a flourish, I pulled off my simple white tee and shrugged. “What? Two can play that game.”
“Seriously, guys?” Will gave me a shove. “They already gave us shit last time about you two comparing dicks. It’s the Grammys, not the Super Bowl. We have to be clothed.”
I eyed him up and down. “Question. Was it your plan to go out there looking like the dad of the group, or was it just a happy accident?” He was in skinny jeans and a simple vintage tee and wore his typical thick black glasses that somehow still got him action from his wife, actress Angelica Greene. It was confusing when Will got action and I didn’t.
Not that I wasn’t getting any.
I inwardly smirked. I was dating one of our background dancers, while at the same time hooking up with one of Zane’s—both of which were performing with us tonight. Hey, it wasn’t like I planned for them to ever meet! And before you get your panties in a twist and start calling me a whore while chanting things like “I pray your dick falls off,” let me explain.
I have a solid reason for dating both women.
You ready for it?
The truth bomb of the century?
I don’t actually have a heart. You see, a long time ago in a land where my innocence thrived—you know, before the mistakes with the drugs, alcohol, and the time I carried a live chicken on stage and kissed it—I was in love.
Not the kind where you say it just because you want to have sex with someone so badly, you’re willing to sell your soul to the devil. Twice.
Real, honest to God love.
Her name? Abigail.
Her current status? Breaker of souls and spawn of Satan.