Off the Bench by Tiffany Noelle Chacon blitz with giveaway

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Off the Bench
Tiffany Noelle Chacon
(Sports in the Sunshine State RomComs, #2)
Publication date: November 19th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Austin Taylor, once an undrafted free agent and a third-string quarterback, was never supposed to be the starting QB for the Tampa Bay Bucs.

Except now, he is.

Dani Marshall, the Bucs ’data analyst whiz, is all in—betting her career, and even her car, on Austin’s success. The real challenge? Keeping her heart out of the game.

Austin

When the achingly gorgeous Dani Marshall shows up in my tiny Ohio town to sign me to the Bucs, I can’t say no. I expect to ride the bench in obscurity for my entire NFL career. What I don’t expect is to become the starting QB in my first month—or to end up as a viral GIF, tripping over my cleats.

Dani’s betting on me, but I’m starting to think her faith might be misplaced. The closer we get, the more her walls stay mile-high—even as I’m being pulled to her as surely as the moon pulls the tides.

Dani

Research shows that spending time together and sharing personal goals increases the likelihood of developing romantic feelings by 30%. (I will not be part of this statistic. I will not be part of this statistic. I will NOT be part… oh crap.)

After I sign Austin Taylor to the Bucs, I make it my mission to stay away from him—he’s too attractive for me, and, as an absolute rule, I don’t date athletes. Not after what happened last time.

But when I make a bet with my work nemesis over Austin Taylor’s performance, my car is on the line. Now I have to get involved.

The problem? The more I work with Austin Taylor, the more afraid I am that he’s going to steal my heart.

This is the first novel in the Sports in the Sunshine State RomCom series: a collection of interconnected, clean sports romances, each featuring its own unique love story. While all books are linked, they can be enjoyed as standalones. You’ll enjoy high-action sports sequences, sizzling chemistry, with no cursing or smut.

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EXCERPT:

This scene picks up after the NFL draft, where Austin did not get drafted. His two friends, Omar and Caleb, take him out to try to cheer him up.

As I peruse the new photographs in my buddy Omar’s bar, my eye catches on a girl walking into the bar. She’s tall and elegant, gliding as if she’s not even touching the ground. I find myself taking in every detail of her, because I can’t help it. Her braids are caught in a twisting bun at the top of her head. Her almond-shaped eyes are assessing the room, as if she’s looking for someone. Her dark cheekbones shimmer with a mesmerizing blend of girl magic that I don’t understand. I admit I linger a little too long on her full lips. Her long neck reminds me of a dancer—she’s as graceful as a ballerina. I’ve only gotten to her shoulders when Caleb notices my perusal.

“Ask her to come over here,” he says, mouth full with chicken wings.

I force my eyes from her, feeling greedy for more. I push my IPA away, wondering if the pull I feel toward her is more a product of the alcohol rather than some kind of supernatural tug she has.

“I’m not going to go just talk to some random girl who’s clearly here to meet someone else.”

“Maybe she’s here to meet a hunky football player,” Omar says with a smirk.

I snort, but don’t speak the words that come to my mind: I’m not a football player anymore.

And it’s the first time since the draft ended that I’ve felt a deep twinge of grief. I may have convinced myself that I’m content with how things worked out, but I’ve been a football player my whole life. I don’t know how not to be a football player. I sigh and half-heartedly dip a chip in the artichoke dip when I realize Caleb and Omar are still looking at me expectantly. “Guys, I’m not going to go talk to her. It’s just not who I am.”

“Tell me, exactly, what you are, man. Because I don’t get it.” Omar’s got that fire in his dark brown eyes that always makes me a little uncomfortable, like he’s about to start a fight. “From where I’m sitting, it seems like you’re just someone who lets opportunities slip from his fingers without a fight.”

“Dang, bro, chill,” Caleb says to Omar as he reaches for more nachos.

“It’s fine,” I say.

Omar plants his hands on the table, standing. “It’s not fine.” And then he walks away.

“Who got his panties in a bunch?” I mutter.

“He’s overcompensating for your lack of feelings over the draft thing,” Caleb says in a fleeting moment of insight. I grunt and return to my IPA. But I just about spit it out when I realize Omar’s gone over to talk to the girl. I mutter under my breath as I set the IPA back on the table, where it sloshes over the edge, getting beer all over my hand. I scramble for a napkin, keeping my focus on wiping up my mess as I sense Omar and the girl walking over to our table.

When she’s beside us, I finally glance up. Looking at her up close takes my breath away, and I’m pathetically speechless.

“Austin Taylor?” she says as I’m momentarily distracted by the mesmerizing way her lips move. Then I’m confused about how she knows my full name.

“Uh, yeah?” I’m struck next by how closed off her features are. This girl didn’t come over here to flirt with a guy—and the realization cuts almost as deep as my football future.

Then, she says the craziest words I’ve ever heard: “My name is Dani Marshall and I’m here to sign you to the Tampa Bay Bucs.”

Want to find out what happens with Dani and Austin? Pre-order Off the Bench here. While you wait, read the first two chapters on my website here.

 

Author Bio:

Tiffany LOVES love. Married to her middle school sweetheart, this award-winning novelist adores writing stories with heart, humor, and depth. As a five-time national equestrian champion, she loves sports romances with heart-pounding action sequences and a whole lot of sweet romance. She received her Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Tampa. A homeschooling mama, she lives in Tampa with her husband and their two wild and crazy sons. She loves hearing from readers and would love to connect with you on any social media platform at authortiffanynoellechacon or on her website at tiffanynoellechacon . com.

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The Geography of Happiness by Jay Hogan blitz with giveaway

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The Geography of Happiness
Jay Hogan
(Mackenzie Country, #4)
Publication date: November 21st 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

One thing I know about Terry O’Connor—the man has complicated relationship written all over him, something I’ve avoided for pretty much forever. One thing I know about Terry’s hometown, Painted Bay—it’s a long, long way from my life as a Mackenzie Country veterinarian, and dedicated, carefree bachelor. All of which should be good news.

No reason to look twice at the gorgeous man currently staying at Miller Station with his daughter.

No reason to daydream about his soft lips, quirky sense of humour, sexy smile, or the way he blushes whenever he catches me staring which is far too often.

No reason to second guess my future plans or reconsider the no-strings lifestyle I’ve worked hard to perfect.

And absolutely no reason to feel disappointed that Terry is even less interested in a relationship than I am. I should be relieved.

Then why can’t I stop thinking about him and how right it feels when we’re together? Why does my heart spin at the very mention of his name? And why does the thought of moving on without Terry and his daughter in my life feel like the loneliest decision in the world?

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EXCERPT:

“There’s the welcoming committee.” Luke indicated directly ahead, where three tiny figures stood next to a red-roofed hanger, a group of dogs sitting quietly to one side. “I’ll have you down in a jiffy.”

A minute or so later, the chopper’s skids set down gently on the grass, and I immediately recognised the dog trainer, Zach, from his website. He wore a green checked shirt and light-wash jeans tucked into leather cowboy boots—handsome and wholesomely country. I glanced at Luke who was wearing a broad grin, his attention locked on his husband. The other two men had to be the station owners, Gil and Holden, although I wasn’t sure who was who—one blond and one with a head of messy dark curls.

When the chopper powered down, Zach jogged across and opened Hannah’s door, wearing a dazzling smile that had me warming to him immediately. “Well, hello there, beautiful girl. You must be the one and only Hannah O’Connor.”

Hannah beamed. “I am. Nice to meet you, Mister Lane.”

Luke snorted. “Just call him Zach. We don’t want to give him any ideas.”

“Too late.” Zach threw his husband a cheeky grin. “I think I like the sound of Mister Lane.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, right. In your dreams, sweetheart.”

“And you must be Terry.” Zach offered me his hand. His website photo had really done zero justice to those stunning green eyes.

“I am.” I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Right, let’s get you out of there.” Zach offered Hannah a helping hand, which she accepted while I stared at my daughter in amazement. Hannah hated being helped to do anything if she could possibly avoid it.

Hannah turned to grab her elbow crutches and shot me a don’t-you-dare-say-anything look. Like hell. I wasn’t that brave. But it was a good start to the week if my daughter already trusted the trainer, so I took it as a win.

With Hannah on the ground, Gabby swept past my knees to join her while I grabbed our bags, Hannah’s canes which she used on her better days, and her wheelchair which she needed for longer distances.

“Here, let me take some of that.” Luke took our bags and popped the canes under his arms before making his way back toward the other two men.

“Well, hello there, girl.” Zach dangled his hand for Gabby to take a long sniff but made no move to touch her. The retriever eyed him suspiciously before finally nudging his hand with her wet nose in grudging approval. That done, she scoped out her surroundings, her gaze lingering uncertainly on the other dogs.

Zach instructed the group of three to stay where they were. “We’ll let Gabby settle in before they meet properly. Right now she’s understandably nervous. Was that her first flight?”

“First time in a chopper,” Hannah corrected. “She flew to Wellington with us last week and then down to Christchurch.”

Zach nodded. “Helicopters are scary beasts. Looks like she did well. But these surroundings and all the smells are new, and she won’t feel safe leaving your side for a while.”

Hannah nodded. “She’s a good dog.”

Zach smiled approvingly. “I can see that. Now come and meet the others.” He led us across to where Luke stood chatting and waved a hand at the curious canines as he passed. “Get away back.”

Every dog walked a good ten metres away and sat.

“This is a beautiful place you have here,” I commented as we reached the others.

“Not mine, unfortunately.” Zach nodded toward the two men. “Holden here is owner. I just have the privilege of living and working here.”

I kept my surprise under wraps as the younger of the two—mid-thirties at a push—stepped forward to shake my hand, his dark brown eyes scanning my face. “Nice to meet you, Terry. And you, Miss Hannah.” Holden shot Hannah a wink. “Call me Holden.”

Hannah smiled brightly. “Nice to meet you, Holden,”

“And this is my partner and much better half, Gil.” Holden extended his hand toward the blond man who was maybe in his forties with shrewd hazel eyes that seemed to look right

through you. The man took it without hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled forward. “Gil manages everything around here that doesn’t have four legs. He’s also a psychologist and is responsible for the station’s wellness retreat programme.”

Gil chuckled. “Well, Holden’s right about the four-legged part, at least. Those critters are definitely not my superpower. Nice to meet you, Terry. You too, Hannah.” He shook hands with both of us.

The two men made a handsome couple, but when I shot a sideways glance to where Luke and Zach were sharing a quiet moment, I amended that thought—make that two handsome couples.

“And while we’re doing introductions . . .” Gil indicated the large huntaway sitting off to one side with the others, his gaze locked on Gil. “That’s Spider. You might say he’s my self-appointed and self-trained assistance dog. Where I go, he goes.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “Self-trained?”

Gil winked. “I’ll tell you about it one day. The dog next to Spider is Batman, one of Holden’s dogs, and the girl at the end is Nina. She belongs to Zach.”

A car horn blasted, and I turned to see a ute, barrelling down the road beside the air strip, with Oakwood Veterinary Clinic stamped on the driver’s door. As it drew alongside, the ute slowed and the driver stuck his head out the window. “I’ll need to come back to finish the others later in the week. And I want to check that bull again if you can bring him in. I’ll let you know when.”

Holden nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

The driver’s gaze slid sideways to me and a warm smile stole over his face. “So, who do we have here?” He looked me up and down. “A set of fresh victims—oops, I mean guests.”

“Hardy har har,” Gil mocked. “You think you’re so funny.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Excuse our friend here. He’s off his medication.”

“Terry and Hannah, this is our vet, Spencer.” Holden swept a hand toward the ute.

Hannah gave the man a wave. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Hi to you too.” Spencer shot Hannah a sunny smile. “That’s a good-looking dog you’ve got there.”

Hannah practically glowed. “Thanks. Her name’s Gabby. She’s a golden retriever and she’s my service dog. I have juvenile idiopathic arthritis.”

I rested a gentle hand on Hannah’s shoulder. I loved that she was always so open.

“Is that right?” Spencer leaned out his window for a closer look at Gabby. “Well, she sure is a beauty. She must be a big help to you.”

“She is.” Hannah nodded enthusiastically. “But Dad calls her a lovable drain on our bank accounts.”

Everyone laughed, including Spencer.

“Wow, thanks for that, sweetheart.” I walked over to shake Spencer’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The vet’s warm hand wrapped around mine. “The pleasure is all mine.” His gaze lingered and heat raced into my traitorous cheeks. I smiled faintly and quickly stepped away as he added, “Don’t let these guys boss you around. Before you know it, they’ll put you to work and have you thinking it was all your idea.”

“Ignore him.” Holden slapped the ute’s roof a couple of times. “Go on, get out of here. I’m not paying for your idle chit-chat.”

Spencer laughed. “You wish.” He shot me another quick smile and then disappeared in a cloud of dust.

 

Author Bio:

Heart, humour and keeping it real.

Jay is a 2020 Lambda Literary Award Finalist in Gay Romance and her book Off Balance was the 2021 New Zealand Romance Book of the Year.

She is a New Zealand author writing mm romance and romantic suspense, primarily set in New Zealand. She writes character driven romances with lots of humour, a good dose of reality and a splash of angst. She’s travelled extensively, lived in many countries, and in a past life she was a critical care nurse, nurse educator and counsellor. Jay is owned by a huge Maine Coon cat and a gorgeous Cocker Spaniel

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Forced by Kink Key blitz with giveaway

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Forced
Kink Key
Publication date: November 18th 2024
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Romance

Today is my eighteenth birthday and I’m finally going to be free from my abusive father’s clutches… or so I hoped.

I knew something was wrong when he calls me to his office while gathering his men. Five men who look at me with hungry eyes that promise pain and misery.

Will they take mercy on me when I tell them I’m a virgin, or will that only feed into their violent nature?

***This book is a short DARK romance with many triggers. Find a complete list inside the book***

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EXCERPT:

“Now the real fun can begin.” My father claps his hands. “Dante, you’re up next.”

“Fu(k yes,” Dante groans as he takes Lucca’s place behind me.

My whole body goes stiff when he grabs onto my hips with bruising force. I feel the head of his co(k between my folds but unlike Lucca, he doesn’t tease me; he doesn’t go slow, he simply thrusts his fat co(k inside of me with such force that I fall forwards onto my father’s desk.

The sound of laughter fills the room and anger fills my veins. I prop myself up on my elbows and brace for the pounding.

Dante isn’t gentle about fu(king me. He drives himself deeper with each thrust, making my thighs bang against the edge of the desk.

My pu$$y is already sore and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the night without bleeding or at the very least bruised.

I try to think about anything besides the man behind me, using me like a fu(k toy for his pleasure. I try to think happy thoughts like how Lucca and I are going to be free after this. It’s going to be worth it. A few hours of agony for a lifetime of freedom.

 

Author Bio:

Kink Key is a male/female author duo who writes short and spicy books.

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Step One by Grier Cooper blitz with giveaway

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Step One
Grier Cooper
(Indigo Ballet Series)
Publication date: November 15th 2024
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

When Indigo lands a role in Ballet Russia’s touring production of The Nutcracker, it’s a dream come true…. Or is it? Her arch nemesis is also part of the production. So is dashing Russian viral video superstar Dimitri Volkov, who’s playing some kind of game she doesn’t quite understand.

As Indigo dances alongside the rising stars of Ballet Russia she struggles to rise above constant criticism from Ballet Russia’s Director, Yuri Kanofsky. But first she’ll have to dig deep and silence the doubts running through her mind if she wants to rise to their level and drive her ballet career forward.

When unexpected events turn Indigo’s world upside down overnight she’s forced to decide how much she’s willing to sacrifice to get there.

And one innocent mistake just might cost her everything.

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EXCERPT:

“You.” The single word from Yuri yanks me out of my reverie. “Indigo, is it?” I nod numbly. “Come here, please.” Yuri points at the center of the floor then folds his arms and waits. I take my position there standing still.

“We begin like this,” he says, posing as I remember from the video of Irina. He shows me the first counts of eight for my solo and I mark the steps as I watch. I’ve memorized them after the second time he walks them through; thankfully I’ve always been quick to pick up choreography.

“You have it?” he demands gruffly. I nod. “Show me.” he steps back and leans on the barre at the front of the room, watching me intently, like a cat tracking a careless bird.

I spread my feet wide and bend forward at the waist, imagining the pose as I remember Irina did it. Aside from Yuri’s counting, the room is silent and still; I feel the others watching. But I can’t think about that. I must only think about the counts and where my body is going, one second ahead so I am there when I am supposed to be–

“No!” he claps loudly. “Let me see position again.” I recreate the pose I was in before he interrupted. “No.” he shakes his head vigorously. “It is like this.”

He strikes the pose. “You see?”

I don’t understand the difference but I don’t dare say anything. I nod.

“More energy in fingertips,” he suggests. I try again, this time I imagine sparks shooting out of my fingertips. This seems to work, since he lets me continue. I rise en pointe, bringing one leg into passé retiré, the toes touching the side of my standing leg near the knee.

“Stop.” More clapping. He marches over to me again. “Make me passé,” he says. I rise back into the position, more forcefully this time, but still he shakes his head. “It is impossible,” he states. “This is not passé. It must be in front of knee, like this,” he says, demonstrating.

Miss Roberta would frown on this placement, I think. Another example of how different ballet technique is from one company to the next, from one country to the next.

Still, I comply. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to learn slight variations, to have more translations in my pocket. You never know when they might come in handy in the future. Another passé, then close in fifth position, and pirouette from fifth–

“No again.” He clenches his hands into fists this time and stomps over to Skinny Snow White. I catch the first word, “Olgachkova” and then get lost inthe flurry of words that follow, none of which I understand. When he falls silent,

Skinny Snow White nods in assent and replies, “Da.”

Skinny Snow White removes the plastic warmup pants she was wearing and makes her way over to me. Yuri flaps a hand at me impatiently, indicating I should step aside. “Olga will show,” he says, turning to her with an enormous smile of beatitude.

I edge out of her way, trying not to feel crushed. I know that having Olga dance in my place is meant to be a teaching tool, something to help me ultimately, but it still stings.

That feeling intensifies as she moves gracefully through the choreography, flowing smoothly through the passés and turns as effortlessly as a fish swirls through water. I try to focus on what she’s doing so I can learn. I’d like to figure out exactly what it is that Yuri’s looking for, that I haven’t got. Yet. But it’s almost impossible to ignore that this woman is one of the most exquisite dancers

I’ve ever watched.

I’ve told myself oodles of time I must never ever, under any circumstances, make comparisons–because comparison is always a losing game. But how not to when the glaring differences are practically smacking me in the face?

Yuri claps again. “Enough. Khorosho, blagodaryu vas, Olga. We will break. Return in twenty minutes.”

I stand paralyzed, mute with a flurry of thoughts pirouetting in my mind.

After watching Olga dance I don’t know how I will ever measure up. I want to, but it seems like an impossible task. Where to even begin? Who can help? Can anyone? What do I need to do to reach that same level of precision and perfection?

All I can think is that even if I were to sneak from my bed and dance all night long, wearing out pair after pair of pointe shoes every night up until our performances, like the Twelve Dancing Princesses fairytale, I’m not sure even that would be enough.

 

Author Bio:

Grier left home at fourteen to study at the School of American Ballet in New York. She has performed on three out of seven continents with companies such as San Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, totaling more than thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer.

Her work has been praised as “poignant and honest” with “emotional hooks that penetrate deeply.” She writes and blogs about dance and has interviewed and photographed a diverse collection dancers and performers including Clive Owen, Nicole Kidman, Glen Allen Sims and Jessica Sutta. She is the author of Build a Ballerina Body and The Daily Book of Photography. Grier’s work has also appeared in Conscious Dancer, Discovery Girls, Skipping Stones, and Dance Advantage, among others.

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Bloody is the Night by Robin Jeffrey blitz with giveaway

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Bloody is the Night
Robin Jeffrey
(The Night, #2)
Publication date: November 12th 2024
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Unbeknownst to humans, the werewolves of the world live in tight knit gangs, or “dens”, for protection from outsiders – and each other. Every major metropolis has one; to belong to a den is to have a family for eternity. Shaye Cassidy, an unhoused human woman scraping by on the streets of Los Angeles, hasn’t had anything close to a family in over ten years. Shaye left her home under a cloud to chase the dream of a new start, a dream that quickly turned into a nightmare; a nightmare that grows even more twisted when Shaye witnesses a werewolf killing a fellow unhoused man.

Andy Vasquez is a top member of Sangre Sagrada, second only to the den leader herself. When she tasks him with tracking down a werewolf gone rogue, someone who is killing humans for sport and risking the exposure of their world, Andy dedicates all his resources to the task. He couldn’t have predicted that the key to uncovering the identity of the rogue wolf would be a human woman, any more than he could have predicted that he would fall in love with her.

Now, Andy must protect Shaye not just from the rogue wolf, but also from those within his den who wish she would disappear. Shaye has her own secrets, however, and in the city of angels, everyone has a devilish side.

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EXCERPT:

I faced forward and froze.

Sitting on the stool across the table was the slim man from the library. He looked me over with an unimpressed glaze to his eyes, leaning against the table, his breathing somewhat labored.

“Shaye Cassidy?” he said casually, as if we had arranged to meet here on a blind date.

I pushed away from the table, my eyes widening. “Shit–!”

Two massive hands clamped onto my shoulders. I tried to twist around, to twist out of their grip, but I might as well have been trying to squirm out of handcuffs. “Stay awhile,” said the silver-haired man behind me, pressing me down into the stool, squeezing hard, but not hard enough to be painful.

Heart in my throat, pounding against my skin like it was trying to escape, I watched as the dark-haired man slid himself on top of the plush green seat across from me, reaching forward and picking up a few pieces of hard-shelled candy out of the bowl as he settled himself. “How

did you even get into a place like this?” he asked, an amused quirk to the corner of his mouth that set me on edge.

Even in the midst of the chaotic bar, his voice was deep, cool, and clear, like water from a mountain river. I watched as he threw the candy into his mouth piece by piece, and he returned my stare, his brows lifting over his dark eyes.

My tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips. I cleared my throat. “Are you going to hurt me?”

His lips twitched up into a lightning strike smile that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “No.” Tongue probing the inside of his cheek, he leaned forward across the table, so he didn’t have to shout. “Are you going to answer my question?”

His calmness grated on my raw nerves. I rolled my eyes and gestured towards the back of the club, past the dance floor. “Fire door alarm around the back is busted. Has been for almost a year.” As I shifted my weight on my seat, the man’s grip on my shoulders remained steady and firm. I grimaced at the pressure. “I noticed it when they hired me for a day to wash some dishes.”

The man looked in the direction I indicated and gave a harrumph, his shoulders rising and falling. He returned his attention to me, nodding. “Clever.”

Frowning, I gripped the edge of the table tightly. “I’m homeless, not blind.” I looked around. No one seemed to notice that I was under duress. If I started screaming, what would happen? What would anyone do? I decided not to risk it, sighing and staring at the man across from me instead. “I’m not stupid either. You’re Andy Vazquez, right?”

His calm facade cracked, if only slightly. This time he actually looked impressed, his eyes widening slightly, faint surprise clear in the opening of his mouth. “Ah, yeah.”

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“I thought you said you weren’t stupid.” He smiled, his eyes narrowing. “What would someone like me want with someone like you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered with unusual honesty, throwing one hand into the air. “I don’t even know who you are; not really. Just that you’re looking for me. You and the LAPD.” Looking him over more closely, a thought occurred to me. “Is that it? Are you a cop? Like a detective or something?”

As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I knew the answer was no. Getting a closer look at him, he couldn’t have been dressed less like a police officer. A part of my brain I had not used in a long time recognized the deceptively plain white dress shirt he was wearing as Louis Vuitton, meaning it cost somewhere close to a thousand dollars. The pants they were tucked into? Armani, over a thousand. The jacket? Even at this distance, I could tell: a single-breasted affair in virgin wool and silk – two thousand at least.

But it wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way he wore them.

Like they were strictly temporary.

 

Author Bio:

Robin Jeffrey can almost always be found cranking out punchy flash fiction, lyrical essays, or world-rich novels. Her writing has been published in magazines across the country and around the world. She currently calls the Pacific Northwest of the United States home, where she lives happily with her husband and their out of control comic book collection. She currently resides in the rainy Pacific Northwest. More of her work can be found on her website, RobinJeffreyAuthor.com.

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