If you're anything like me, you're recovering from holiday madness, curbing your spending, and trying to keep the wicked flu that's been going around at bay.
January has always been my "recovery" month, a month to recharge the batteries, and hibernate with a good book. Or 3 or 4. Nothing too heavy. Something I can escape into for a few hours without much thought.
I wrote The Meatball Mistress because I love wacky romantic comedies, I come from an Italian family, and I love food. This romance has all 3 of these elements.
If you love romances where the hero happens to be the heroine's boss, then you'll love He's the Boss: 10 Office Romances (of which The Meatball Mistress is a part of).
It's available on Amazon for .99!
I leave you with an excerpt from The Meatball Mistress and hope for warmer tomorrows.
“All I’d need is some work as a cocktail waitress and a place to stay for a short time. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
Trouble. There was that word again.
She chose that moment to glance up at him with doe-like eyes, and against his better judgment, Ryan found himself in an almost trance-like state saying the words, “Fine, you can stay here.”
Was he trying to atone for being an uncommitted jerk to all the women he’d dated since his divorce? He wasn’t a jerk intentionally, and he was genuinely sorry when they walked away with that opinion of him. He always tried to be honest in the beginning so they wouldn’t expect more from the relationship, but it never seemed to make any difference. Whenever women didn’t get what they wanted, they weren’t happy. End of story.
Ryan was no stranger to commitment. Marriage had been sacred to him. He had chosen one woman above all others to spend the rest of his life with until death. But that dream had died when his wife had betrayed him. In an instant, all hopes and plans for the future fell apart, and with it, any desire to love and fully commit. He couldn’t handle that kind of upheaval to his life again.
So, yes, he knew exactly what Cara was going through, and he was genuinely sorry for her. Hopefully, she’d learn to trust again. Just because he was a lost cause when it came to love didn’t mean everyone else should be, too. He heard her let out a deep exhale.
“I’m a fabulous cocktail waitress,” she bragged. “You won’t be sorry. I know every drink in existence. Honestly, it’s like I have a photographic memory when it comes to ingredients.”
Ryan didn’t answer her. He sat there shell-shocked.
“Say something.”
“I can’t. I’ve lost all power of speech.”
“You’re not regretting your decision to let me stay, are you?”
“It’s just ... ” His voice trailed off. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m trying to remember whether I’ve ever helped out a woman I wasn’t sleeping with.”
“If you think I’m going to sleep with you ... ”
“No! Jesus, that’d be a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Are you saying sleeping with me would be a disaster?”
“Absolutely!” He caught the deadly look she shot him and quickly said, “I mean, absolutely not!”
Cara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way, because I’ve sworn off all men. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all mangy dogs. Except you, of course,” she amended.
Ryan stood up and headed for the door. “No, I’m one, as well. If I weren’t, I would have told you five minutes ago your robe was open,” he tossed back.
Tiffany N. York writes delicious romance to escape reality. Visit her website at tiffanynyorkauthor.com
January has always been my "recovery" month, a month to recharge the batteries, and hibernate with a good book. Or 3 or 4. Nothing too heavy. Something I can escape into for a few hours without much thought.
I wrote The Meatball Mistress because I love wacky romantic comedies, I come from an Italian family, and I love food. This romance has all 3 of these elements.
If you love romances where the hero happens to be the heroine's boss, then you'll love He's the Boss: 10 Office Romances (of which The Meatball Mistress is a part of).
It's available on Amazon for .99!
I leave you with an excerpt from The Meatball Mistress and hope for warmer tomorrows.
“All I’d need is some work as a cocktail waitress and a place to stay for a short time. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
Trouble. There was that word again.
She chose that moment to glance up at him with doe-like eyes, and against his better judgment, Ryan found himself in an almost trance-like state saying the words, “Fine, you can stay here.”
Was he trying to atone for being an uncommitted jerk to all the women he’d dated since his divorce? He wasn’t a jerk intentionally, and he was genuinely sorry when they walked away with that opinion of him. He always tried to be honest in the beginning so they wouldn’t expect more from the relationship, but it never seemed to make any difference. Whenever women didn’t get what they wanted, they weren’t happy. End of story.
Ryan was no stranger to commitment. Marriage had been sacred to him. He had chosen one woman above all others to spend the rest of his life with until death. But that dream had died when his wife had betrayed him. In an instant, all hopes and plans for the future fell apart, and with it, any desire to love and fully commit. He couldn’t handle that kind of upheaval to his life again.
So, yes, he knew exactly what Cara was going through, and he was genuinely sorry for her. Hopefully, she’d learn to trust again. Just because he was a lost cause when it came to love didn’t mean everyone else should be, too. He heard her let out a deep exhale.
“I’m a fabulous cocktail waitress,” she bragged. “You won’t be sorry. I know every drink in existence. Honestly, it’s like I have a photographic memory when it comes to ingredients.”
Ryan didn’t answer her. He sat there shell-shocked.
“Say something.”
“I can’t. I’ve lost all power of speech.”
“You’re not regretting your decision to let me stay, are you?”
“It’s just ... ” His voice trailed off. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m trying to remember whether I’ve ever helped out a woman I wasn’t sleeping with.”
“If you think I’m going to sleep with you ... ”
“No! Jesus, that’d be a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Are you saying sleeping with me would be a disaster?”
“Absolutely!” He caught the deadly look she shot him and quickly said, “I mean, absolutely not!”
Cara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way, because I’ve sworn off all men. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all mangy dogs. Except you, of course,” she amended.
Ryan stood up and headed for the door. “No, I’m one, as well. If I weren’t, I would have told you five minutes ago your robe was open,” he tossed back.
Tiffany N. York writes delicious romance to escape reality. Visit her website at tiffanynyorkauthor.com
No comments:
Post a Comment