Publisher: Science Future Press
Release Date: May 15, 2013
Rook Walsh is TRAGIC
Because life so far – just sucks. Some girls get parents. Rook got the foster care system. Some girls get Prince Charming. Rook got an abusive frog. Some girls get lucky…
Rook got a second chance.
And she took it. Because when fate throws you a bone – you grab it with both hands and run.
Antoine Chaput knows the minute he spies Rook in his photography studio that she’s got The Look. The dark and desperate look he must have to land the exclusive TRAGIC media contract.
Rook is paired up with top model, Ronin, and he’s everything her abusive ex-boyfriend wasn’t. Patient, gentle, happy, attentive, and sexy! He knows exactly what to do to make Rook blush for Antoine’s camera.
Rook’s luck changes in an instant and suddenly she’s the darling of the modeling world. It’s a dream job to go with a dream guy and all she has to do is look pretty and follow directions. But there’s always a price to pay – and Rook is about to get the bill.
New Adult Contemporary Romance *Mature Content* Recommended for ages 17+ due to sexual situations and language usage
**Does contain strong language**
I gather up all my clothes and stick them in the stackable washer in the closet just off the bedroom. The breeze caresses my naked limbs and gives me the chills, but I enjoy it. The goose bumps travel up my arms and spread out to my whole body. I shiver for a second and then head to the kitchen.
And stop dead in the living room.
Ronin fucking Flynn is sleeping on the couch.
What is he doing here? My eyes track to the front door and I suppose it's my fault, I left it open. There's nothing but a screen door between this apartment and the terrace. My gaze wanders back to the sleeping man. He's lying on his stomach, his one arm tucked underneath him, the other falling over the edge of the cushion, and he's shirtless.
And then I realize I'm naked.
"Shit!"
He stirs and I make a break for the bedroom. It's one thing to let him see me naked half hidden in darkness and quite another to be fully illuminated by the bright morning sunshine. I wrangle the sheet around my body and then head back to the living room, wistfully looking at the washer that contains every single article of clothing I own.
"Ronin!" I say loudly.
Nothing except a half-muffled snore from him. Lord, this man has the most perfectly chiseled and muscular back I've ever seen. Both hands pull up and go under his face, like he's blocking out the sunlight, and this gives me the perfect opportunity to study his flexing biceps. The muscles are thick and hard-looking near his shoulders. They curve down, dip into a little valley, and then climb once again.
I lean down and smell him.
"Why are you sniffing me?" he asks groggily.
"Uh—" Because you smell delicious, the inner Rook says. But luckily the outer Rook says, "I'm checking to see if you're drunk. Why are you sleeping on my couch?"
He peeks up, opening one eye in my direction, squints, and then croaks out some words. "I love your outfit." He grins, winks, and then drops his head back down into his arms.
"Are you leaving?" I ask, frustrated and confused at the same time. "I mean, why are you here?"
"I told you I'd come back with dinner. But when I got here, the lights were on and you were in bed. I only sat down for a second to think up a rational excuse to wake you up, but I guess I fell asleep." He raises his head again, grins sheepishly, and then rolls over on his back, tucks his hands behind his neck, and flashes his perfect body at me as he closes his eyes, probably confident that I'll be checking him out.
I do check him out. It's quite hard not to notice that he's got the perfect six-pack abs and that absolutely adorable fuzzy happy trail you see on a shirtless designer jeans model. Hmmmm… maybe he is that model? "You have no shirt on."
Yes, after all that gawking, I finally manage the obvious.
He opens the one eye to look at me again. "Neither do you."
And stop dead in the living room.
Ronin fucking Flynn is sleeping on the couch.
What is he doing here? My eyes track to the front door and I suppose it's my fault, I left it open. There's nothing but a screen door between this apartment and the terrace. My gaze wanders back to the sleeping man. He's lying on his stomach, his one arm tucked underneath him, the other falling over the edge of the cushion, and he's shirtless.
And then I realize I'm naked.
"Shit!"
He stirs and I make a break for the bedroom. It's one thing to let him see me naked half hidden in darkness and quite another to be fully illuminated by the bright morning sunshine. I wrangle the sheet around my body and then head back to the living room, wistfully looking at the washer that contains every single article of clothing I own.
"Ronin!" I say loudly.
Nothing except a half-muffled snore from him. Lord, this man has the most perfectly chiseled and muscular back I've ever seen. Both hands pull up and go under his face, like he's blocking out the sunlight, and this gives me the perfect opportunity to study his flexing biceps. The muscles are thick and hard-looking near his shoulders. They curve down, dip into a little valley, and then climb once again.
I lean down and smell him.
"Why are you sniffing me?" he asks groggily.
"Uh—" Because you smell delicious, the inner Rook says. But luckily the outer Rook says, "I'm checking to see if you're drunk. Why are you sleeping on my couch?"
He peeks up, opening one eye in my direction, squints, and then croaks out some words. "I love your outfit." He grins, winks, and then drops his head back down into his arms.
"Are you leaving?" I ask, frustrated and confused at the same time. "I mean, why are you here?"
"I told you I'd come back with dinner. But when I got here, the lights were on and you were in bed. I only sat down for a second to think up a rational excuse to wake you up, but I guess I fell asleep." He raises his head again, grins sheepishly, and then rolls over on his back, tucks his hands behind his neck, and flashes his perfect body at me as he closes his eyes, probably confident that I'll be checking him out.
I do check him out. It's quite hard not to notice that he's got the perfect six-pack abs and that absolutely adorable fuzzy happy trail you see on a shirtless designer jeans model. Hmmmm… maybe he is that model? "You have no shirt on."
Yes, after all that gawking, I finally manage the obvious.
He opens the one eye to look at me again. "Neither do you."
J. A. Huss likes to write new adult books that make you think and keep you guessing. Her favorite genre to read is space opera, but since practically no one reads those books, she writes new adult science fiction, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, urban fantasy, and books about Junco (who refuses to be saddled with a label).
She has an undergraduate degree in horses, (yes, really–Thank you, Colorado State University) and a master’s degree in forensic toxicology from the University of Florida. She used to have a job driving around Colorado doing pretty much nothing but shooting the breeze with farmers, but now she just writes, runs the New Adult Addiction and Clean Teen Reads Book Blogs, and runs an online science classroom for homeschoolers.
