Tag Archives: Chick Lit

Lucky Blitz

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Chick Lit
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Kat Davidson bought the ticket on a whim…she never expected to win.
Will $200 million dollars ruin her life?
At 34, what Kat really wants is to start a family. Her husband, Michael, only wants to be a famous actor. After winning the lottery, life seems perfect – until they get the reality TV show offer.
Maria Gonzales, the ambitious TV producer of Lucky, knows the show will be her ticket to ratings gold – as long as she can amp up the drama between Kat and Michael.
Drama is the last thing Kat wants.
It’s not easy, becoming famous. People stop them on the street. Women throw themselves at Michael. It’s not the life Kat pictured when she fantasized about being rich.
Winning the lottery flings Kat into a life of luxurious Manhattan mansions, exotic beaches, extravagant sports cars and fabulous clothes.
But will she find the strength she needs to win the life she really wants?
Dive into the book that readers are finding impossible to put down.
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About the Author
V. R. Street lives in a New York City suburb with her husband, daughter, son and a cheeky cat named Bob.
Lucky is her first novel, although she has published three nonfiction titles under a different name. The idea for Lucky came from fantasizing about winning the lottery and wondering what it would be like if a reality TV series was shot about lottery winners. Since writing this book, HGTV has come out with a show called My Lottery Dream Home. Sometimes life imitates fiction!
When not writing, V. R. works for a sports broadcasting company. In 2017, she was the winner of an Emmy for her work on the 2016 Summer Olympics.
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Media Queen Blitz

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HollyAnna, Book 2

Contemporary Women’s Fiction, Chick-lit

Published: June 2020

Publisher: Independently Published

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Jordyn Fairweather has worked hard to reach the top of the magazine world,
but now she’s in trouble.

Younger stars are scrambling to steal her crown, and media companies are
collapsing around her in the face of a new threat – the internet.

She’s come a long way from small town Beddo, where she obsessed over
teen glossies until pushing her way into an internship with Sixteen
magazine. But if Jordyn’s empire is going to survive, she needs to
move fast and keep reinventing herself.

Spanning the late 90s and 2000s, Media Queen is a compulsive read with an
outrageous main character. It comes with the essential ingredient that
Jordyn demands of all her stories: juice!


Book No 2 in the #HollyAnna series – following Goodbye Newsroom
– Media Queen can also be enjoyed as a standalone novel.



Media Queen paperback


Chapter 1


Jordyn Fairweather knew one thing for sure. She never wanted to clean
another toilet in her life.

She shouldered open the door to the stall and dumped the tin pail onto the
floor. Warm air rushed in from the toilet block windows above, really just
rectangular gaps in the red brick building. She could hear girls calling out
goodbyes to each other, and car doors slamming. The tennis squad was going
home after practice. Jordyn wished she could go home, too.

‘Still here?’ a voice sang out, followed by a giggle.

Jordyn didn’t respond. She didn’t even bother looking around.
She knew who her interrogator was. She wiped the toilet cistern with an old
blue cloth, secretly wishing she could shove it down someone’s

Tina appeared in the doorway behind her.

‘I don’t know how you do this job,’ she said.

Jordyn splashed detergent into the bowl, flushed, and backed out of the
stall, hoping to crash into Tina and slop bucket water over her.

No such luck. Her tormentor moved away to lean against the row of

Tina Goodman was a head taller than Jordyn, even though she was a grade
lower in high school. Her dark hair was tied in a high ponytail and her
short skirt barely covered her golden legs. She was a gladiator and this
toilet was one of her many arenas.

‘Goody wants to know if you want a lift home,’ Tina said.

Jordyn scowled. ‘I’m getting a lift home with my mum – he
should know that.’

Tina shrugged slowly, as if wearing a heavy fur coat. ‘That’s
what I told him, but he wanted to check.’

Jordyn watched Tina appraise herself in the mirrors – her tanned face
free of any teen blemishes. Her vicious, vacant eyes.

‘If you’re hangin’ around, it must mean you wanna take
over the cleaning …’ Jordyn said.

Tina tipped her head back to laugh. ‘No way! I’m never gonna
clean a toilet.’

With a speed propelled by fury, Jordyn grabbed the mop propped in a corner
and thrust its handle beneath Tina’s chin. The girl froze, her eyes

‘Are you crazy?’ Tina croaked. ‘We’re not in

‘Start mopping,’ Jordyn hissed.

Tina shoved her and used the newfound space to wriggle away and flee
through the toilet block door.

‘Cow!’ she shouted.

Jordyn laughed, clutching the mop like an old friend. She wished Tina had
struggled for a little longer; she was in the mood for a fight. She often
felt like that these days.



About the Author

Michelle Prak is an indie author and university teacher who runs her own PR
agency. She loves creating energetic and ambitious characters who will make
you laugh and inspire you at the same time.


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Kendall – Book Tour

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Romantic Comedy, Chick-Lit
Date Published: May 15, 2018
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She doesn’t have time for a relationship,
but maybe she could swing a one-night stand.
After all, he’s just a stripper,
so no need to worry about the future… or a broken heart.
Kendall has it all: a soaring law career, a bank account filled with cash, and an apartment overlooking the Chicago River. Her life couldn’t get any better; at least that’s what she thinks before she hosts a bachelorette party for her younger cousin, Ruthie.
What starts out as a low-key soiree quickly turns into an evening of debauchery when two strippers show up unexpectedly. During their act, Kendall can’t keep her eyes off the dark and stoic Giovanni. Fueled by too many Moscow Mules and ignited by the male form, her suppressed desire smolders.
With the prodding of her older cousin Freya, Kendall pursues a one-night stand with Gio. But when she realizes she wants more, Kendall is forced to reexamine her priorities as well as her lifelong definition of success.
Kendall’s story is the first installment of the five-book romantic comedy series THE LONELY SPINSTERS CLUB.


KENDALL SHIVERED AS she blindly groped for her blanket. Once she had a corner, she pulled it up around her neck. In the distance, a boat horn tooted a few short blasts. With that, her eyes fluttered open to the expanse of the predawn sky. Huh, was she on the balcony? Had she spent the night outside? She filed through her memories trying to locate the last one from the previous evening.

Bachelorette party… Moscow Mules… Thumper… Strippers.

“Oh no.” Kendall sat up and looked at the other chaise lounge. It was empty. “Phew.” Gio must have left during the night. So Freya should be alone too.

Kendall massaged her pounding temples before she stood. How could she have let herself drink enough to be hung over? How could she have been so weak? Oh the shame.

With her eyes at half mast, she shuffled back inside her apartment toward the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and downed the whole thing. She placed the empty glass in the cabernet-stained sink and turned around to inspect the damage. Not too bad.

Thank goodness, she had had the wherewithal to tidy up all the dishes before she fell asleep last night. She didn’t have the time nor the energy to clean before work this morning. Maybe Freya could vacuum before she moved the chairs and end tables back to their designated spots.

Kendall padded through the short hallway to the closed door of the guest room and rapped gently. “Freya? You alone in there?”

No answer. So Kendall turned the knob and braced herself for the worst. “Freya?”

Once inside, she saw that her cousin was, indeed, alone.

“Freya?” Kendall crept toward the bed and placed her hand on Freya’s shoulder.


“Are you awake?”

“What time is it?” Freya’s voice cracked.

“I’m not sure. Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to check on you before I left for work.”

Without opening her eyes, Freya lifted the covers and scooted over, making room for Kendall.

Kendall paused for a second, considering what had occurred between those sheets a few short hours ago. “Which side did you…”

Freya’s right eyelid blinked open. “Get in here, weirdo.”

Putting her head back down on a pillow for a few more minutes would be nice but…

“This side of the bed is clean. Hurry up and get in because I’m cold, and my arm is starting to hurt.”

Freya might be lying, but the pillow beckoned Kendall. She would take a shower in a few minutes anyway. In her current state, comfort should win out over disgust. Kendall submitted to her hangover, crawled under the blankets, and snuggled her cheek against the pillow.

“Tell me everything.” Freya’s voice was low and raspy.

“Nothing happened.” Kendall closed her eyes, and the pounding in her head quieted to a gentle tapping.

“Come on, honey, he was perfect. Especially for you. I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“Yes, he was perfect. But I refuse to sleep with a stranger or a stripper. Or a stranger who happens to be a stripper.”

“Did you at least make out with him?” asked Freya.

“No, I did not make out with him.”

Freya clicked her tongue. “Lost opportunity.”

“I can’t believe you slept with Lucas,” said Kendall.

“Lucas… that was his name. He was pretty perfect too. Much more attentive and skilled than Jim had ever been. Jim, that selfish bastard. One and done. He would never have spent hours making love to me like that young buck had done last night.”

“Not even at the beginning of your relationship?”

“Not even then. Sex was just another task on his to-do list,” said Freya.

“Huh. Well, then, I’m surprised you married him. I’ve always assumed he was better when you were first together.”

“Nope. Not better. I was stupid. For some reason, I thought he’d change.”

“You mean you thought you could change him,” said Kendall.

“Mm-hmm. He worked all the time and was always stressed. I’d hoped he’d learn to relax with me. I’d hoped I’d bring balance to his life. But he was never satisfied with his status or his achievements. He’d reach a goal but then start over again. And his goal post kept moving farther and farther away.”

Kendall understood that dynamic all too well. Her goal posts were on wheels.

“And after my second miscarriage—”

“Freya?” Kendall opened her eyes and studied her cousin’s face. “You had two miscarriages?”

“They both happened early in the pregnancy.” Freya’s eyes remained closed. “Too early to have already made an announcement, so it was easier to say nothing at all.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Kendall reached for Freya’s shoulder.

Freya opened one eye and pushed her hand away. “Stop it. I’m fine.”

“Was Jim there for you?”

“He tried to be, at least after the first one.” She closed her single eye. “But the second one was too much.” Her jaw tightened. “Fuck him. He’s such a child. I’m lucky I didn’t have his baby.”

“Freya, don’t say that.”

“After the second miscarriage, he worked even more than usual. I was such an idiot. I figured he was trying to distract himself.”

“But he wasn’t?”

“Not with work. He was having an affair.”

“What a jerk!” Kendall sat up.

But Freya pulled her back down. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s too early for the rest of this story. I wanna go back to sleep.”

Although Kendall wanted to hear the rest, she didn’t press her cousin. “I wish I could sleep more, but I have to go into the office. I’ll get up in a second.” Kendall’s eyelids drooped shut. “Oh, by the way, thanks for covering me last night. I would’ve frozen to death out on that balcony.”

“I didn’t cover you.”

“Really? Huh.” Did Gio cover me?

Freya put her hand atop of Kendall’s and half-heartedly patted it. “Before I drift off, I have a confession to make.”


“I invited the strippers to Ruthie’s wedding,” A smile stretched across Freya’s makeup smeared face.

“I doubt Tristan will approve of your entertainment choice.”

“No, silly. I invited them as our dates so we won’t have to listen to Grandma Bev berate us.”

“But… I already have a date for the wedding.” Under no circumstance would Kendall bring that stripper to a family party, especially when many of the attendees already knew he was a stripper. What would her mother think?

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Josh.” Kendall lied. She hadn’t considered bringing a date to the wedding let alone Josh. But surely he wouldn’t mind a free night out. No strings attached.

“I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are. I invited him as a friend, and I can’t uninvite him just because I found someone better.” Kendall’s head sank into the pillow as the weight of the covers pushed her body into the warm mattress. She’d stay here for a few more minutes, and then she’d get into the shower.

“Kendall, wake up.”

The smell of coffee filled Kendall’s nose as the sound of a vibrating phone filled her ears.

“Your boyfriend, Josh, needs to talk to you.” Freya stood next to the bed holding Kendall’s phone. “He’s called at least four times.”

“What?” Kendall sat up. “Oh no, I must’ve fallen back to sleep.”

“Do you want me to answer it?” Freya waved the phone over Kendall and smiled.

“Don’t you dare.” Kendall grabbed it out of Freya’s hand.

“Hi, Josh. What’s up?”

“Ken, where the fuck are you?” Josh whisper-yelled. “They’re both here. They’ve been asking for you.”

Her heart instantly pounded a fresh dose of stress filled blood to her brain. His words were the shot of adrenaline Kendall needed to jump-start her body. “Tell them I’m on my way.”

“I already told them you’ve been here all morning but went out on a coffee run. So you’d better get here fast, with coffee.”

“All morning? What time is it?”

“It’s eleven-thirty!” Josh had dropped the whisper part and yelled.

“Crap. I’m leaving now.” She hung up, jumped out of bed, and sprinted to her room. She changed her clothes and then ran into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and combed her toffee-colored hair back into a low ponytail. Since her bobbed hair was too short to fit into the tie, a thin layer of hair fell back down to her neck.

“You can’t wear your hair like that.” Freya stood in the doorway of Kendall’s bathroom holding out a can of dry shampoo. “Try this.”

Kendall pulled out the tie and sprayed her hair. “Better?”

Freya nodded.

Kendall inspected her reflection one last time and winced at her bloodshot eyes and dark circles. “Oh man. Do you have any magic sprays to make my face look better?”

“Eye drops and concealer might help.”

“Uh, I don’t have time. Sorry, but I have to run.” Kendall slipped on a pair of black flats and ran for the door. “Will you be okay here, alone?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Go.” Freya waved. “And tell Josh I can’t wait to meet him.”

Kendall pulled the door shut behind her. Her stomach churned as she raced toward the elevator. Crap, she had forgotten to take an antacid.

As she waited for the doors to open, Freya’s last word echoed through her throbbing head. And tell Josh I can’t wait to meet him.

Ugh, so that conversation about the wedding had actually happened? Kendall had hoped it was a dream. Now, on top of dealing with angry bosses and lies about her starting time, she would have to ask Josh about the wedding.

Luckily, traffic was light, and Kendall made it to the office in record time. But first, coffee. Starbucks was a block down, but The Bean Maestro was right next door. She had never tried this tiny independent cafe before today. It looked cute and smelled delicious. Plus, the line was never as long as the one at Starbucks. Indie coffee would have to do.

Kendall rushed into the shop and up to the counter. A college-aged girl with gauged ears and silver hair leaned against the glass pastry case looking at her phone.

“Hi, I need four large coffees. To Go.”

“Sure.” The girl put down her phone. “Do you want room?”

“Only in one.” Kendall held her credit card out.

“Cash only.” The girl pointed at the handwritten sign taped to the back of the register.

“Right.” Kendall rifled through her purse until she found a twenty. “Sorry, I’m a little stressed. I’m running late. I was supposed to be in my office three and a half hours ago.”

“I feel ya. Sunday mornings are tough.”

Kendall drummed her fingers on the countertop as the girl filled her order.

Once finished, the girl placed the four cups in a cardboard carrier and pushed it toward Kendall. “I marked the one with room. Have a good day.”

“Thanks.” Kendall raced toward the condiment bar and removed the lid from her coffee. She poured some more liquid out of her cup and into the garbage can. Then she added three packets of sugar and whole milk.

As she forced the lid back onto the cup, she glanced up at the corkboard hanging on the wall in front of her. A banner, reading Meet the Barista’s of The Bean Maestro, decorated the top of the board. Pictures of smiling hipsters populated the rest of the board. As Kendall’s eyes wandered from square to square, she was struck by the good looks of all the baristas. The maestro certainly hired a type.

But then her eyes stopped on the single image at the bottom. That barista was not a hipster. He was a stripper. Her stripper. The name on the photo read Giovanni Amante.

“Huh, is that what he meant by entrepreneur?” She leaned in closer to study the lines of his face. Although he wore a grin, his dark eyes glistened making him look almost melancholy. She had an uncontrollable urge to hold him in her arms and make everything okay. To think, they had been in such close proximity to one another this whole time but had never crossed paths before last night. Weird.

Kendall’s phone vibrated, so she dug it out of her purse.

Josh: Where are you?

Kendall: Have coffee. Will be up in a minute.

Kendall looked up at Gio one last time. Oh, how she wanted him. Maybe she couldn’t touch him and comfort him in real life, but she could have this picture of him. Kendall zoomed in and snapped a photo of the photo. Then she scurried away hoping the girl behind the counter hadn’t noticed.

As she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, a wave of gratitude washed over her. Thank goodness for Josh. Most attorneys she had worked with in the past would never have covered for her as he had done. From here on out, she would have to be more careful. Another misstep on her part might tip the balance in Josh’s favor. She couldn’t mess up again. But, if for some reason Josh got the partnership instead of her, she would try to be happy for him. All things considered, he was a true friend.

The elevator doors opened. She poked her head out first to make sure the hallway was empty. And it was, except for Josh. He was standing outside her office door.

“Psst, Josh.” Kendall rushed toward him.

“There you are.”

“I made it.” She held up the cardboard carrier. “Black coffee. Take one.”

“Thanks.” Josh shimmied the nearest cup out of its square slot.

“No, thank you. I shudder to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t called me this morning.”

“Rough night?” Josh smirked.

“Why do you ask?” Kendall unlocked her door and motioned Josh inside.

“You look a little rough around the edges. Was the party fun?”

“It was all right.” She selected the cup opposite the empty square.

“I’d called you a few times this morning before I finally talked to you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“The first time I called, your cousin answered. She refused to wake you.”

“I can’t believe her.” Kendall looked sideways at Josh as she sipped her coffee. “Did you two talk long?”

“Longer than I’d expected. She had some interesting things to say.” His grin stretched from ear to ear. “What’s this about a wedding?”

Kendall sighed. Freya was such a troublemaker. “My cousin, Ruthie is getting married in two weeks and—”

“And I’m your date? Funny, but Freya talked as if I should’ve known about this already.” Josh kept his eyes on Kendall as he sipped his coffee.


“Don’t worry; I played along.”

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot. I said you were my plus one to get out of bringing a… blind date.”

“Oh?” Josh furrowed his brow. “So, you’re using me.”

“On the contrary, I want you to come. I don’t know why I didn’t think of asking you sooner. We never hang out outside of work. It’ll be fun. Will you come? Pretty please?” Kendall folded her hands under her chin and begged. “You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll pay for any expenses you might incur. Dry cleaning, valet, whatever. No strings attached. Just two friends, having dinner.”

“Just two friends having dinner…” Josh scratched his chin. “Hmm.”

“Well, maybe we could act as if we’re on a date for my grandmother’s benefit.”

“But it’s not a date.”

“Of course not. But would you mind driving? That’ll make us a more convincing couple.”

“Sure, I can swing that.”

“Josh, you’re a lifesaver.” Kendall picked up the cardboard carrier. “I’d better get these coffees to the bosses before they get cold.”

“I’ll walk with you.”


Daphne Hargrow is a romance writer, avid reader, and novice yogi. She has also published a few young adult novels under a different name. When Daphne is not writing, thinking about writing, or reading about writing, she watches YouTube conspiracy videos and dreams of the day when she, too, can join the ranks of the Illuminati.
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Sway – Blitz

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by Alana Albertson
Publication Date: April 24, 2018
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Chick Lit

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Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited!

Purchase: Amazon

Two ballroom superstars from different corners of the world. Former best friends now sworn bitter rivals.


The dance I choreographed won an Emmy—but someone else claimed it. The man I loved just got engaged—but another woman is wearing his ring. I’m the reigning world champion ballroom dancer—but I’m not “TV material.” I’m too curvy. I’m too short. I’m too real. Screw Hollywood. I’m no longer hiding behind the wings. I’m no longer letting people steal my life. I’m ready for my turn in the spotlight—no matter what the consequences.


I left my country, my home, my language, my heart. For a chance to have a life in America—live without prejudice and pain. For freedom, I’ve given my heart and soul. Love now means nothing to me but success and security. Until I met him—the long haired rock and roll drummer with a boyish grin. True love and acceptance will destroy everything I’ve worked for. I’m ready for my chance for happiness – no matter what the consequences.

This book is a stand alone chick-lit-esque new adult romance. This book is not a sequel to Love Waltzes In and can be read on it’s own.

About Alana Albertson

Alana Albertson is an award winning Latina author, the former President of Romance Writers of America’s Contemporary Romance, Chick Lit, and Young Adult chapters. She holds a Masters of Education from Harvard and a Bachelor of Arts in English from Stanford. A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes new adult romantic suspense, young adult, and contemporary romance. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband, two sons, and five dogs. When she’s not spending her time needlepointing, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through her rescue Pugs N Roses, she can be found watching episodes of House Hunters, Homeland, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

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At Heavenly Pleasures, quite a lot of things are possible…
Heavenly Pleasures COVER
Isla Dennes
Series: For Heaven’s Sake Book 1
Genre: Chick Lit, Comedy, Romance
Publisher: Totally Bound
Publication Date: January 30, 2018
Meet Brooke, a self-confessed shopaholic turned reluctant brothel receptionist, as she stumbles through life, trying to live up to her parents’ and fiancé’s high expectations—at the cost of her now low self-esteem.
Who would have thought a group of working girls would help her rediscover her inner strength and finally tackle her personal demons? But at Heavenly Pleasures, the rules are made to be broken and new opportunities are just around the corner…

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“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands.
“Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!”
Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up.
Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.”
“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?”
“I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach.
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.
“What do you mean extra? How much extra?”
“Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.”
The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air.
What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?
“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?”
My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard.
Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.”
Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross.
“Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.”
This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity.
“Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.”
Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded.
Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.”
“Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven.
“Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.”
Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life?
Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked.
Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me.
But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…
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About Isla Dennes

Isla Dennes

Married, mother of one son and three daughters, Isla Dennes developed a love for writing while employed in her dream job as the owner of a book shop situated in a seaside resort town in NSW, Australia. Not content in simply reading every book in the store, she found herself compelled to create novels of her own.
Had she concentrated more on sales and less on writing she might well have retired a wealthy woman, but writing won out in the end, with the result being a lifelong passion for creative writing across a number of genres, including a brief but regrettable sojourn into horribly sentimental New-aged poetry which is best forgotten.
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