Cover Reveal & Giveaway
Happily Ever After
Happily Ever After
(A Broken Fairy Tale #2)
by
S.K. Hartley
S.K. Hartley
 |
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 24, 2015
|
~ Synopsis ~
Note
to self: Never beg the man you’ve been avoiding for three months to help you.
You should also never say you’ll do anything just to get out of a questionable
date...
Three things I dislike about Luca Black:
Three things I dislike about Luca Black:
1.
He lies.
2.
He’s cocky and self-absorbed.
3.
He knows how to play me like his Aston Martin.
Dammit.
Now
I’m stuck at his apartment. All because I needed his help. Now I have to face
the fact that, no matter how much I try not to stare, he looks delicious in
nothing but a towel around his waist.
What
the hell was I thinking?
Seven
days.
It’s
just seven days with a man who can turn me on with a single look, and make me
consider murder every time he opens his stupid British mouth.
I
could do this...
Right?
~ Excerpt ~
Throwing
caution to the wind, and no doubt my dignity, I hit call and prayed. I prayed
he didn’t answer and that I’d have to some how climb out of the tiny, broken
window above my cubicle and never step foot on this side of New York ever
again.
The
Gods were now laughing hysterically.
“Kitten.”
And
there went my sanity… followed swiftly by my panties.
Dammit.
“Luca.”
His name fell from my lips like a caress instead of what it should’ve been, a
snarl. Coughing gently, I tried again. “Luca,” I said, a little more
forcefully, but now I sounded like I couldn’t put a single sentence together.
Great.
It
was going great.
“I…
shit. I need your help.”
My
hand went to my forehead as I watched my dignity jump out of the window along
side my sanity and panties. Could I have sounded any more desperate? I should
just end the call, I could say I accidentally butt dialed him while I was out
with a super hot doctor on a super hot date. Then I’d somehow have to explain
why I said his name, but I could work around that, right?
God
dammit, Kylie, get your shit together. Just ask him to come and get you, it
won’t kill you. The doctor might though.
I
rolled my eyes and decided to suck it up but just as I was about to explain my
predicament, he opened that stupid mouth of his.
“You,
Kylie Jackson, need my help?” His deep laughter filled my ears and
mortification took hold of me. This was a stupid idea.
“What
the hell is that supposed to mean?” I spat.
“It
means that the last time we saw each other was over three months ago, Kylie.
I’m surprised you even remember my name. You’ve been avoiding me like the
bloody plague and now you want my help?”
“I
haven’t been avoiding you.” I mustered. It was a lie, but it was the best I had
in the situation I was in. “Look, I know we haven’t spoken in a while but
please, I’m begging you, help me out here?”
That
sentence alone would be my undoing.
“You’re
begging?” I could feel his excitement through the phone, coming off him in
waves. What had I done? “Kitten, if you’re begging, I’ll do just about
anything… but there’s a condition.”
I
rolled my eyes, “When isn’t there a condition with you?”
“Do
you want my help, or not?”
“Fine.
Fine.” I sighed. “What’s the condition?”
“A
little bird told me that your apartment is being redecorated this week and you
need a place to stay until it’s finished.”
My
eyes widened and I silently gasped, wondering how the hell he knew that.
Whoever the little bird was, little bird was going to see the pointy side of my
stiletto.
“I
don’t want to know how you know that, but yes, I’m staying over at Quinn’s
apartment for the week while they finish off.” Standing to my feet, I was about
to press my head against the locked door of my cubicle when I thought twice.
“Ew.” I whispered.
“I’m
afraid not, love.” He chuckled into my ear — a deep resonating chuckle that did
something stupid to my brain.
“What
are you talking about? My bags are already at Quinn’s place.”
“Kitten,
you’re not staying at Quinn’s. You’re staying with me. That’s the condition.
Take it or leave it.”
If I
wasn’t mortified before, I certainly was now. Had he lost his damn mind? There
was a reason why we hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since my best friend's
wedding, not to mention the anger I had towards him. The anger quickly
resurfaced as I thought back, remembering how much of an asshole liar he was,
and gave him my answer.
“No.
Absolutely fucking not. Not on God's green earth and if you were the last
person on it.” I blurted it out faster than I could think it. Shit.
“Looks
like you’ve still got a problem and I have a very good glass of Scotch in my
hand. Good luck, Kitten.” I could feel his smirk taunting me and it boiled my
blood. I took a look at the open window above the toilet and grimaced, my anger
simmering as I realised that if a week with Luca was the only way out of this
stupid date, I’d have to suck it up.
“Fine!”
I shrieked, “But there’s going to be ground rules. I may not be the sharpest
tool in the shed, but when it comes to you, I know how to play your game. Now
can we please move on to how the hell you’re going to get me out of this date
with the serial… doctor?”
“You
know rules are made to be broken, right?” His voice deepened, taking on a
darker tone. It was the same voice that had me unraveling at the seams not so
long ago, the same voice that could get me to do just about anything. Shit, I
needed to get out of this. I couldn’t do this.
“On
second thought, I think I can handle the Doctor.” I quickly fired back. My palm
moved to my forehead as I tried to think of an escape plan, another route,
something that would just get me the hell out of here and over to my best
friends apartment, where I could change into my pajamas, and stuff my face with
Ben and Jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie ice-cream and a bottle of red.
My
train of irrational thought was suddenly cut short with a banging on the
bathroom door.
What
the hell?
“Are
you okay? Do you need some… medical assistance?”
I
shuddered as I recognised the voice of my date, clearly stood on the other side
of my only rational exit out of here. I groaned. Why did I always get stuck
with the creepers.
“Well,
if you think you have this handled, I’m going to go back to my Sco-” “OKAY!
Please, just get me the hell out of this place before I’m bludgeoned to death
down an alley on the upper east side.”
See where it all began…..
~ About the Author ~
S.K. Hartley is a wife and
mother to an oil soaked husband and tomato sauce covered son by day, by night
an international bestselling author.
Located in the not so sunny North West of England, UK, S.K. Hartley deals with
daily battles against her love of chocolate and her coffee addiction, along
with defying autocorrect and British to American translations.
~ Connect with S.K. Hartley ~
~ A Rafflecopter Giveaway ~
