One hundred years ago when I was young and impulsive (okay, it was five, alright? Five years ago…) I let my boyfriend take, let’s just say…compromising pictures of me.
(Shut up. It made sense at the time).
Surprise! The sleazy back-stabbing jerk posted them on a website and, well, you can guess what happened. That’s right.
I’m a meme. A really gross one.
You’re seen the pictures. And if you haven’t – don’t ask. And don’t look!
As face recognition software online improves, I get tagged on social media whenever anyone shares my pictures. You try getting a thousand notifications a day, all of them pictures of your tatas.
So. I’m done.
It’s time for revenge. Let him see how it feels! But how do you get embarrassingly intimate pictures of your jerkface ex who double-crossed you five years ago?
Especially when he’s a member of the U.S.House of Representatives now?
Getting sweet between the sheets with a congressman is pretty much every political roadie’s dream, right? I’m one in a crowd.
Except to this day, he swears he didn’t do it. Pursued me for months after I dumped him five years ago. Begged me to take him back.
And I almost did it. Almost. I was weak and stupid and in love a hundred years ago.
Okay. Fine. Five.
But I still have the upper hand. Second chance romance has all the emotional feels, doesn’t it?
I can’t wait to punch him in the feels.
All I need to do is sleep with him once, take some hot-and-sweaty pics of him in… delicate positions, and bring him down. That’s it. Nothing more.
Pictures first. Revenge after. And then I win.
At least, that’s how it was supposed to happen. But then I did something worse than sexting.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
This Valentine’s Day, when a cupid accidentally shoots himself with his own arrow, he falls for a siren whose only job is to lure men to their deaths.
Charismatic and irresistibly fun, Chance Eroson is a cupid who gets a kick from pairing odd couples and being right about them. Used to getting his way, the only person who shuts him down is the siren who has ruined more than one of his pairings before they started. But his bigger problem is he wants her. He’s always wanted her.
Elodie Sirenian uses her power for good, only hunting evil men. But after so long, and so many horrible people, her cynicism has settled deep inside. She can turn on the charm when she doesn’t mean it, and they fall for it. Every single one. Every single time.
Except Chance. He’s the only person—man or god—who has ever challenged her.
But a cupid’s magic is temporary. There’s no way a true love match is possible. Not this time.
“Who are you after?” she asked. She even used a pleasant tone of voice.
He stepped in closer, spinning her stool so she faced the bar, then closer still. Not touching, but she could feel the heat of him, the length of him, at her back. He leaned down to put his lips to her ear. “Him,” he said in a low voice.
It had been a long time since a simple whisper had turned her on. She saw the worst in men. Even if she didn’t kill them, she could still read their auras. Their lust with no emotion. Their aggression. Their manipulation. All of which made it difficult to rev her engines. So the fact that her nipples tightened, pressing against the silk demi-cup of her bra was…distracting to say the least.
“That’s not helpful,” she said dryly. “As usual.”
His chuckle didn’t help the nipple situation any, sending a surge of warmth cascading through her.
“Three-piece suit.” Chance picked up her glass. “The one who just bought you a drink. Although, if he has his eye on you, it might make my job matching him a tad more difficult.”
Elodie’s muscles unknotted slightly. At least she wasn’t going to have to argue him out of this one.
“With who?” Curiosity popped the words out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
“Banana yellow shirt in the back corner.”
She searched behind three-piece-suit and found the woman in question. Not only was the lady’s shirt bright yellow, but so was her aura. Elodie smiled despite herself.
“I take it you approve?” he asked.
How did he know? He was standing behind her.
“Otherwise, you’d immediately argue.”
How did he do that? She knew a cupid could read the minds of humans—helped with the job—but he couldn’t do that to her or other supernaturals. But the laughter in his voice told her he’d still managed to read her reaction regardless, and knew she’d be irritated about it. He didn’t know that the irritation was because it meant he knew her better than she wanted. Dangerous to let him that close.
“Stay very still,” he said next.
Elodie frowned and started to turn, except a glittering golden bow and arrow appeared at her side, arrow already nocked.
He had to be joking. “Here?” she drawled. “You’re going to shoot them in a busy bar? Really?”
“They’re lined up perfectly. I couldn’t have picked a better shot.” His voice was harder now. Focused. Sexy. If that’s how he sounded in bed…
She shook off the thought.
“Hurry up.” She had her own job to deal with.
“You don’t rush love, baby girl.”
“Call me baby girl, again, lover,” she snapped. “I dare you.”
No answer to that. She wished she could see Chance’s face.
Multi-award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, loves plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, alpha heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of sexy shifters! Other titles include wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, spreadsheet lover, Dr. Seuss quoter, eMBA, organizational guru, Texan, Aggie, and chocoholic.
Abigail grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.
Abigail currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero (who she totally married!) and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.
At the age of seventeen, Skye Thorpe lost her parents and yearns for a family of her own, and she’s certain Ethan Connor is the one to give it to her. After all, they’ve been together for seven years. One night, she broaches the subject of marriage and learns the devastating truth. Ethan has no intention of marrying her.
Ethan married young and learned the hard way what it was like to be betrayed by the person he loved. After a bitter divorce, he promised himself he would never allow another woman to wreck his life again. So when Skye mentions marriage, he quickly shuts her down.
To get the life she craves, Skye has no choice but to end the relationship and walk away. But can she really walk away, if Ethan won’t let her go?
“Okay, Ethan, if we do go on vacation, we need to take a real vacation. You can’t be on the phone half the time. You have to cut off communication with your office and relax.”
“Sweetheart, I run a multibillion-dollar company with offices around the world and thousands of employees. I’m in the middle of a sensitive deal in China, and although phase one of the Horizon development is nearing completion, problems crop up every couple of weeks. I can’t go off the grid.” Considering the conversation over, he took a sip of coffee.
“Yes, you can.” Skye rested her arms on the table, her dark eyes steady as they locked with his. “At least, you should be able to. Otherwise, why do all of this? What’s the point if you can’t take a one-week break every now and again? So maybe you miss a phone call and lose a few thousand dollars. Maybe even a few million. So what? You have millions more and your whole company won’t collapse. Wrap up your most important projects before we go, and leave the rest to your employees. If you did your job right, they should be able to survive a week without you. If they can’t, then you either didn’t hire the right people, or you didn’t train them well. Either way, the fault is yours, and you need to get your shit together.”
Quiet descended on the table, the only sound the buzz of conversations and utensils scraping the plates around them. Skye bit the corner of her mouth—as if she said too much—but didn’t drop her gaze.
“How long have you been waiting to say that?” Ethan swallowed another mouthful of coffee.
She sat up straight and shrugged one shoulder. “A while.”
Ethan took her hand on the table and threaded their fingers together. Her fingers were so soft, like the rest of her body, and her nails painted a deep wine color.
“You’re right. We should have time away without distractions.”
“Really?” An immediate sparkle came into her eyes, and she perked up.
A twinge of guilt landed in Ethan’s chest. Had he really been so ignorant of her desire for a business-free trip? Why hadn’t she revealed her concerns before?
“Of course. If that’s what you want.”
“Where are we going to go?” she asked.
“You decide,” Ethan said, feeling indulgent.
“Are you sure you want me to do that?” she asked playfully, and his heart rate ticked up a bit faster. For the first time in days, their relationship edged closer to normal.
“Pick a country you’ve always wanted to see, and that’s where we’ll go.”
A smile of pleasure touched her lips, and the sight of her happiness warmed deep inside his chest. He would give her anything she asked for to keep that expression on her face—well, almost anything. For a millisecond, his gaze dropped to her left hand, fingers still intertwined with his. There had been no mention again of getting married or a ring, but the wall between them remained—as thin as rice paper, but a wall nonetheless.
“Let’s go somewhere off the beaten path. No luxury hotels. Just a beach and warm weather,” Skye suggested.
“Sounds like you already have a place in mind.”
“Belize. When you went there on business a couple of years ago, you told me it was a beautiful country with friendly people, and how you wished you’d had more time to spend there. I looked at travel sites to see about taking a trip at some point, but I stopped my research because you’ve been so busy the past couple of years.”
“I would like to see more of the country than I did when I was there last. Belize it is, then. Get with Layla, and the two of you can plan the trip,” Ethan said.
“And you’ll wrap up all your major projects, so we can relax and have a real vacation?” she asked.
How bad had he been that she needed to insist?
“You have my word.”
For the first time in weeks, the smile on her lips matched the smile in her eyes, and the lurking darkness disappeared. He lifted her palm to his mouth and watched her eyes darken with desire. Maybe tonight he’d experience those soft fingers on his skin and those red nails raking his back. If not tonight, very soon.
Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sensual, passionate romance novels, and was born and raised in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free stories on her website at www.delaneydiamond.com.
