An
all-new STANDALONE from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent!
It
all started with the wrong Help Wanted ad. Of course it did.
I’m
a professional fluffer. It’s NOT what you think. I stage homes for
a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own
merits.
Sigh.
Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait.
See?
That’s the problem. My career has used the term “fluffer” for
decades. I didn’t even know there was a more… lascivious
definition of the term.
Until
it was too late.
The
ad for a “professional fluffer” on Craigslist seemed like divine
intervention. My last unemployment check was in the bank. I was
desperate. Rent was due. The ad said cash paid at the end of the day.
The
perfect job!
Staging
homes means showing your best angle. The same principle applies in
making a certain kind of movie. Turns out a “fluffer” doesn’t
arrange decorative pillows on a couch.
They
arrange other soft, round-ish objects.
The
job isn’t hard. Er, I mean, it is — it’s about being hard. Or,
well… helping other people to be hard.
Oh,
man…
And
that’s the other problem. A man. No, not one of the stars on the
movie set. Will Lotham – my high school crush. The owner of the
house where we’re filming. Illegally. In a vacation rental.
By
the time the cops show up, what I thought was just a great house
staging gig turned into a nightmare involving pictures of me with an
undressed naked star, Will rescuing me from an arrest, and a
humiliating lesson in my own naivete.
My
job turned out to be so much harder than I expected. But you know
what’s easier than I ever imagined?
Having
all my dreams come true.
Buy
links
Bookbub:
http://bit.ly/2ThoLrZ
Excerpt
“You're
changing the subject.”
“How
do you know that’s what I’m doing?”
“Because
you have this thing you do when you get nervous. You did it in high
school and you're doing it now.”
“What’s
that?”
“You
start cracking your knuckles. One by one.”
He
halts mid-crack on his ring finger. His bare ring finger.
Will
looks down. A slow smile pulls at his lips. “You’re right. I do.”
Our eyes meet. “How did you know?”
“I
sat behind you in nearly every honors class, Will. I’ve watched you
answer countless questions from teachers. And every time you didn’t
know the answer, you cracked your knuckles. One”–I crack my index
finger–“by”–I crack my middle finger–“one.” My ring
finger won’t snap.
He
waits.
“You
spent a lot of time paying attention to me, Mallory.”
“I
sat behind you. It’s not like I could stare at your ass all day. I
had to have something else to look at.”
“You
stared at my ass?”
“It
was two feet in front of me! Four classes a day!” I start to sweat.
The memory of him in football uniform pants. Oh, sweet ice cream
fairy, deliver me from evil.
“You
okay? You look,” he says, stepping closer, “a little disturbed.”
“I’m
fine.”
“Hot,
even.” The rise and fall of his chest pauses after those words, as
if he's holding his breath, too.
About
the Author
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
Social
Media Links:
Website:
http://jkentauthor.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/jkentauthor
Newsletter:
http://bit.ly/2PIBi9n
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/jkentauthor/
Amazon
Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Julia-Kent/e/B00A99V268/
1 comment:
Sounds like great fun, Julia!
Post a Comment
Let me know your thoughts! (And if you're having trouble commenting, try enabling third-party cookies in your browser...)