Best Week Ever
Worst Week Ever
Worst Week Ever has been nominated by the IRC as
The Best Contemporary Romance of 2014
So to celebrate its grand achievement,
I’m offering it to the world for 99 cents
From June 23 –June 29th
About the Book
What do you get when you put a hardworking, can-do middle-class young woman together with an egoistical, outrageous, billionaire boss, then throw in the worst week of disasters imaginable?
Book 1 of the 4 book series A Long Road to Love, named Worst Week Ever.
Trent Lancaster spends one month without his Executive Assistant (or as his driver refers to Carrie: 'Trent's brain, left hand, and right hand'). He's had a miserable month without her at his side and to ensure it never happens again, he intends to marry this brilliant beauty. Only given all the times he's threatened to fire her, he's not sure she even likes him. However, the future of his company and his happiness depend upon him succeeding, so Trent begins a slow one week seduction that happens to coincide with Carrie Hanson's Worst Week Ever when everything that can go wrong does so in hilarious form.
(Hilarious to the reader, Carrie is not having much fun this week.)
Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the thump of a body against the limo’s hood.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted Sam take a shortcut,” Trent muttered beneath his breath.
She groaned softly. If her boss questioned his actions, then matters must look grim outside. She tensed even further, expecting to hear multiple bodies slam into the car.
Sam braked hard, turned right, and resumed driving a billion miles an hour. If not for the seat belts, she and Trent would’ve sailed into the front seat, and then plastered against the door. To secure her further, Trent protectively placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his warm chest.
She focused on the thumping of his heart. It beat once to three of hers. God, how can he be so calm?
Determined to match his bravery, she tried to raise her head, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Just a little longer, I hope. Sam, when do we depart this third world country?”
“Two more blocks, sir.”
“Thank God. You’ve terrified poor Carrie to death.”
Instantly, the limo’s speed dropped.
She turned her head sideways so Sam might be able to hear her words. “Your driving doesn’t frighten me, Sam, the neighborhood does.”
As if on cue, a round of three loud pops sounded, followed by three thunks into her side door. She squeaked like a mouse at the first thunk. By the third, her body shivered in fear.
Trent’s arms tightened around her as the limo picked up speed again. “We’re okay,” he assured her, then his lips pressed against her temple. His calm certainty silenced her tremors.
Having successfully soothed her, he released his outrage upon Sam. “Why the hell did you drive us through here?”
Sam calmly replied as he drove the car at a billion miles an hour, taking corners at deadly speeds. “I warned you the locals might not welcome us.”
“Someone just shot at us?” Trent yelled.
Sam’s nonchalant reply sounded almost surreal. “I’m sure they didn’t mean for you to take it personally, sir.”
Maybe none of this is happening. Maybe I fell asleep in the traffic and my dream has gone rogue.
Her heart calmed and she nuzzled closer to Trent, breathing in his masculine scent. Secure in her dream, she confessed something she never would in real life. “You smell good.”
Trent’s arms relaxed a bit and he chuckled. “It’s called Trent. I had the cologne custom developed. They assessed my natural odors and then determined the optimal combination of scents to create my unique smell.”
She snorted. Even in her dreams, he remained the strangest man she’d ever met. If she had all the money in the world, she’d try to end poverty and violence in…whatever hell they’d just driven through, not have some custom designed perfume created so she’d smell really, really good.