This week was my ninth wedding anniversary and I forgot it. When my husband pulled me onto his lap this morning and told me, I stared at him blankly. I asked him if he was sure. And I realized, somewhere between his chuckle and his kiss, that it was the most unromantic response ever.
But that's what release weeks are like. Love Chloe released this Monday, and everything in my life sort of stopped -- a pause in time that only I was aware of, the rest of the world ticking on, unaware of my frantic obsession at the birth of my latest baby.
Love Chloe is my twelfth novel. That seems crazy. Life was so much easier back in 2012, when I pressed 'publish' on Blindfolded Innocence and then squealed with joy when I had three sales. I want to go back to that time. I tell new authors all the time to not obsess over sales and then do exactly that.
After I post this, I am turning off my laptop and going to dinner. I'll chew my food, sip on wine and try not to obsess over what might be happening online. I will not be back online at all tonight. I'm promising that to myself. It's my anniversary gift to me and my husband. Totally unromantic, but a much needed reprieve.
But before I do that, let me introduce you to Love Chloe. My newest, but already one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it too!
You know girls like me. You hate girls like me. The privileged blonde who skips her Ivy League classes when she's had too many Soho martinis. The one draped on the asshole's arm because he drives a Bugati and screws like a champ.
I was that girl. I loved being that girl.
Then, my door was broken in. Literally.
And in that moment? Everything changed.
WARNING: This sexy standalone has jaw-dropping moments, crazy sexual chemistry, and will make your cheeks hurt from smiling. Read at your own risk.