Genre(s): New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: September 9th 2014
Imagine the worst day of your life. Immerse yourself in the details. How did you feel? Who were you with? What were the consequences?
Recalling my darkest day is as simple as typing a few search terms into a web browser. It only took thirty minutes for me to become the center of a media frenzy that caught the attention of an entire country.
So I hid.
Nine months later and I'm getting better. Moved two hours from home, landed my dream job, and met a delicious new guy.
Healing is that simple, right?
Note: New Point is the start of a standalone series with connected characters, but independent story lines.
“New Point isn’t known for much breaking and entering, but I have to admit, this looks mighty suspicious,” an unmistakably Midwestern accent drawls from behind me, effectively scaring the sweat off my bare shoulders.
A shriek escapes from my lips as I teeter preciously on the wood chair and my hands lose their grip on the white doorframe. The rubber of my flip flop doesn’t provide much traction and my body pitches sideways. In just a second I’ll crash against the deck floor and I’ll spend the summer recovering physically instead of gaining back my old–
Sturdy muscular arms slide around my waist and yank me against an equally firm chest. “Woah, there. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The masculine voice has a smile behind it.
“Probably shouldn’t go sneaking up on someone then,” I mutter once I catch my breath and untangle myself from his grasp. He chuckles at my retort, a rich baritone that makes me feel like shivering.
When I’m a step or two back I’m nearly breathless again, but this time for completely different reasons.
Sturdy was one way to describe his muscular grasp, but now that I have a full frontal view of him, I see my mistake. He’s perfect. Thick arms with nicely defined muscles that don’t bulge too aggressively beneath his white T-shirt, a broad chest, trim waist with low riding blue exercise shorts. And that’s just his body. Bright white teeth gleam at me from behind a broad smile. Thick, dark curly hair begs to have fingers run through it and he has coffee colored eyes framed by long lashes most girls want desperately.
He’s a combination of sultry sex appeal and mischievous intentions as displayed by the twist of his lips. Less than one minute in his presence and I’m practically swooning.
“Who are you?” I blurt out.
With a smirk, he crosses his arms across the planes of chest. “Shouldn’t I be asking the questions, Ms. Breaking and Entering?”
Get in touch with Olivia, she adores emails: firstname.lastname@example.org
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