by Gwen Jones
Romance
Avon Books
Available from amazon
Blurb:
If you love the humor and romance of Rachel Gibson and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, don't miss the fabulous debut of Gwen Jones!
Landed, financially secure 40-yr-old male
* Handsome, but with old-school communication skills and a secret past *
Seeks healthy, athletic female
* Preferably a pretty reporter with a messy love life who has never spent a day in the woods *
For marriage and family
* What could possibly go wrong? *
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Romance is Dead, Sister
Andy Devine was the last thing I needed in my life next to a punch in the gut, yet that morning I got both.
“Hey Jules!” Denny called from the newsroom. “Take a look at this!”
I grabbed my compact and fixed my lipstick, catching my red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. How could I look at anything when all I could see was scarlet? But I wouldn’t cry, I wouldn’t, sliding Ruby Ruse across my lips, the skyline of Philadelphia reflecting back into my hand. See, Evil had just walked out of this conference room on seven hundred dollar Fratelli Rosseties, the sales slip from Boyd’s still cooling in my wallet.
“Sorry, Julie, but it’s just a bad time for me,” Richard had purred just moments before, his glossy hair swooping dramatically, his baby blues bleeding Sincerity 2.0, his bespoke suit wafting Clive Christian No. 1. His fingers brushed my neck as he leaned in for the chastest of cheek pecks. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Really, it doesn’t.”
I groped the table for balance. “You’re telling me this now? With two weeks until our wedding?”
Richard’s mouth crooked with such a perfect mix of pity and condescension I almost felt sorry for him. “Julie, sometimes it takes nearly falling into the brink before you know what’s best for you.”
“Now I’m a brink?”
“No!” His eyes widened. “Of course not. You’re wonderful and beautiful and talented—the top reporter at the station!” He palmed his chest. “But I’m just a struggling agent. You don’t need me dragging you down. And I will, if this deal doesn’t pan out.”
I slanted him a glance; self-flagellation fit him as well as polyester. “Seriously, Richard? Then why keep telling me your agency has the biggest talent out of Hollywood? That these gamers you just signed are the hottest around?”
“Julie. Sweetheart.” He clasped my shoulders, eyes hooded. “Being on top only means you hit the bottom harder.”
Wait a minute. I slinked away. “Why is being on top great for me but terrible for you?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” He shook his head, leaving for the window.
I looked to my hand, his diamond winking at me with absurd perkiness. Two years we’d been together, sharing the same Rittenhouse Square penthouse, the same bank account, each other’s insurance beneficiaries, our lives so imperceptibly tangled it’d take a blowtorch to break them apart.
“Just what is it I’m supposed to get, Richard? That you don’t want to make that final commitment? That you don’t love me anymore? Or maybe you never did? Maybe we were just mutually handy, equally able to pick up each other’s dry cleaning?” My eyes burned. “But you never thought of me that way, did you? I mean, who could be that shallow? You…” I looked up. “Richard?”
His shoulders were twitching. I went to the window, spinning him around. “Jesus! Are you tweeting?”
He stared at me, aghast. “I have over 5,000 followers you know!”
“With number one standing right here!”
***
Gwen Jones, MFA, is an Assistant Professor of English at Mercer County College, in West Windsor, NJ, a mentor in Graduate Studies at Western Connecticut State University’s Master of Fine Arts in Creative and Professional Writing program, and is a Craft and Industry Instructor for Literary Powerhouse Consulting. She’s been married to her husband, Frank, for more years than she’d like to admit, is an unabashed born-and-bred native of Southern New Jersey and the Jersey Shore, and finds all things political the highest form of entertainment. When not civilly espousing a progressive agenda, she can be found trolling neighborhood streets and greenways, perched under an umbrella at several Jersey beaches, or haunting movie theaters or random tri-state live performance spaces. Associations that have admitted to accepting her are The Romance Writers of America, Liberty States Fiction Writers, and The Association of Writers and Writing Programs. When she’s not atop any given flat space reading trashy novels or the occasional liberal diatribe, she’s usually writing women’s fiction or romance, or essays the odd person has been known to call “humorous.” Her work has been featured in The Kelsey Review, The Connecticut River Review, and her novel, Wanted: Wife was released 4 June 2013 by HarperCollins/Avon Publishers. Gwen's website: http://gwenjoneswrites.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment