Wrong (Breaking the Rules) (30 page)

Read Wrong (Breaking the Rules) Online

Authors: K Webster

Tags: #Breaking the Rules Series Book 2

I most certainly wouldn’t be where I was without the love and support of my fellow Indie Romance Author Chicks. You ladies gave me advice when I needed it most and were there when I needed to vent. Without your guidance every step of the way, I’d surely be lost in sea of confusion. Each and every one of you rock. I can’t wait to hug all of your necks (even though hugging is totally not my thing) and even put Tessa Teevan in my back pocket because she’s so damn cute.

Mickey, my fabulous editor from I’m a Book Shark, without you, my story would have been a mess of overused words. You kept my story consistent with the first book, gently reminding me of what
really
happened. I’m sure you were ready to
pull
your hair out or
grab
your laptop and throw it out the window by the end. My favorite comment was, “Let’s give this word a break.” Thank you for leaving me happy little smiley faces to soften the blow of my “special” writer moments. My books would be a grammatical mess without you.

Wendy Shatwell and Claire Allmendinger of Bare Naked Words, thanks for pimping my book and holding my hand all the way from the UK. You two really go above and beyond with everything you do—and have incredible work ethic. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for Bare Naked Words! Thank you Stacey Blake for formatting my books and making them look gorgeous. You’ve got talent, kid.

A huge thanks goes out to my wonderful husband, Matt. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to make this dream possible as it took a lot of time and money. Not only did you write check after check when I “needed” something else for my book, but you also kept the children fed and bathed. Tighten those apron straps because I don’t have plans of stopping any time soon!

Lastly, but certainly not least of all, thank you to the wonderful readers out there that are willing to hear my story and enjoy my characters like I do. It means the world to me! My heart swells happily every time a reader messages me to tell me how much they enjoyed my book and read it in one night. You guys are fab—cyber kisses and hugs to you all!

I’m a thirty two year old self-proclaimed book nerd. Married to my husband for nearly eleven years, we enjoy spending time with our two lovely children. Writing is a newly acquired fun hobby for me. In the past, I’ve enjoyed the role as a reader. However, recently, I have learned I absolutely love taking on the creative role as the writer. Something about determining how the story will play out intrigues me to no end. My husband claims that it’s because I like to control things—in a way he’s right!

By day, I run around from appointment to appointment wearing many hats including, mom, wife, part-time graphic designer, blogger, networker, social media stalker, student, business owner, and book boyfriend hunter (It’s actually a thing—complete with pink camo. I lurk around the internet “researching” pictures of hot guys that fit the profile of whatever book boyfriend I’m reading or writing about).

I guess you can blame my obsession with books on my lovely grandmother whom is quite possibly my favorite person on the planet. At an early age, she took me to the Half-Priced bookstore each weekend and allowed me to choose a book. Every single time, she caved when I begged for two. Without her encouragement, I wouldn’t have been able to cope during some hard times without my beloved books.

Currently, I am finishing up my college degree that has taken me forever to complete. It’s just on the list of my many “bucket-list” goals that I subject myself to.

Most days, you can find me firmly planted in front of my computer. It’s my life. If the world ever loses power, I’d be one of the first to die—of boredom! But, I guess as long as I have books and a light, I might just survive.

Looking forward, you can expect to see one more novel in the Breaking the Rules Series. Also, I have two standalone novels and a novella that will be released soon as well.

This writing experience has been a blast and I’ve met some really fabulous people along the way. I hope my readers enjoy reading my stories as much as I do writing them. I look forward to connecting with you all!

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Push the Envelope

By: Rochelle Paige

Prologue

Flowers…check.

Chocolates…check.

Champagne chilled and ready to go…check.

Noise-canceling headphones so I didn’t have to listen to whatever noises were going to float up from the rear cabin…check.

This was so totally not the normal pilot’s checklist. When I talked to Dad over the summer about offering Mile High Club charter flights so we had some extra money coming in to cover my room and board at college, I had no idea how the idea would take off. I’d figured I would take a couple flights out each month so Dad wouldn’t have to scrimp on anything so that I could live on campus. He really wanted me to get the whole college experience, especially since I had chosen to stay in town for school.

Who knew there were so many middle-aged housewives looking to spice up their marriages? I usually had three to four flights booked each week now. At a cool grand per booking, we made enough to cover my room and board and maintenance on the planes, and we even had money left over to pay off my student loans and to cover my tuition for my next two years. I guess they’re right when the say sex sells!

Since the flights were offered in the evening, they didn’t interfere with my classes. Dad wanted as little to do with this venture as possible. He had told me that this was my idea, and he expected me to run with it. Talking about anything connected to sex with his daughter wasn’t really high on his list of things to do. I figured I was lucky that he was willing to let me use the Cherokee for the flights. I just had to make sure I booked them when I was able to be in the pilot’s seat. The last thing I wanted to do was screw my grade point average over because I was skipping too many classes to pilot the flights I was only offering so I could pay for school in the first place.

Today’s flight was due to depart in about thirty minutes, so the lucky couple should be here any minute now. I needed to get my butt in gear so I would be ready when they arrived. The plane was set up for their romantic rendezvous. I was dressed in my charter pilot gear of loose khaki pants and a Hewett Charters polo shirt. I’d pulled my long brown hair back in a low ponytail. This appearance seemed to help the wives feel more comfortable with the idea that their pilot was a twenty year-old girl. Add into the equation that I am passably attractive and I could have a problem on my hands with my paying customers. So I did what I could to make sure I presented myself as a capable pilot and nothing else.

I know it’s crazy for some people to picture me piloting a plane, but I started flying with my dad before I ever got behind the wheel of a car. He lived to fly and taught me to love it as well. I had my permit when I was sixteen, earned my private license when I was seventeen, and got my professional license when I turned eighteen. Some days it felt like I spent more time during my life up in the air than I did on the ground.

Yet another reason Dad wanted me to live on campus this year—so I could hang out with girls and act my age. Dad and I had been two peas in a pod forever, and now he worried that I needed to have a normal life with girlfriends, parties, and boys. I admit that my upbringing wasn’t exactly orthodox, but I was happy with the way things were. I just wished Dad would understand that.

Damn, it sounded to me like my housewife of the day had gone all out for this trip based on the click of her stilettos hitting the tarmac. I didn’t understand how women could walk on shoes that looked like skyscrapers to me. Guess that was just the tomboy in me, much to my best friend’s dismay. Time to get my head in the game so I didn’t scare off the paying customers.

“Welcome to Hewett Charters,” I greeted the middle-aged couple as they made their way towards me. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Williams?”

“Yes, that’s us,” tittered the platinum-blond woman as her husband looked at me quizzically. I guessed that she hadn’t used their real name in the hope that they could keep their trip private. She needn’t have had that concern since I offered complete confidentiality.

“Thank you for booking your flight with us today,” I said. “Everything is all set, and we can be in flight as soon as you are ready to go. Did you have any questions before we board?”

“Ummmm, are you our pilot?” asked Mr. Williams.

“Yes, I’m Alexa Hewett. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I’ve been doing private sightseeing tours for a couple years and have had my pilot’s license for almost three years. I might be a little young, but I grew up with my dad in the cockpit of a plane. I can assure you that I am fully qualified to take you up,” I answered.

“And how does this work exactly?” he questioned.

I couldn’t help but smile at the question. It seemed that the wives always booked these flights, and the husbands always seemed uncertain once they got here. I even had flights where the husband had no idea that his wife had booked the tour with the sole purpose of getting it on mid-flight. The expressions on their faces when they saw the bed in the cabin were priceless. It kind of cracked me up since I always figured guys were less shy about sex. Which may still prove to be true since I hadn’t seen a single guy yet turn down the opportunity offered by my special charter flights.

“If you will follow me this way, you can see how we’ve set the Cherokee up so that you will have plenty of room in the rear cabin. Once we are in flight, I will draw the privacy curtain and wear noise-canceling headphones during the flight. I will be able to communicate with the tower but won’t be able to hear anything from the cabin. Any of your activities while on board will be as private as possible.” They both nodded and looked at each other while blushing.

I walked the couple towards the plane, showed them the bed area we had fashioned by removing four of the seats, and asked them to sit in the rear-facing seats during takeoff for their safety. If the hot looks they were flashing each other as they buckled up were any indication, they were ready to go.

“Enjoy the refreshments, and I will let you know when it is safe to move about the cabin,” I said as I got settled into the cockpit.

As I prepared for takeoff, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself about the irony of me helping couples to spice up their sex lives. I wasn’t exactly qualified to do so except for piloting the plane. I couldn’t really be described as very experienced in the bedroom. Yet, I have turned my beloved Cherokee into the equivalent of a by-the-hour hotel room.

At Death It Begins

By: Elle Jefferson

Prologue

There was too much noise making it impossible to focus. The clock ticking from an adjoining room, the wooden chair creaking every time he moved, and the sound of her foot tap, tap, tapping beneath the table were crumbling the delicate twine of his sanity. He loosened his tie using the front flap to brush away the sweat gathered along his brow.

She watched him watching her.

The thought of death, especially hers, at his hand sent waves of pleasure coursing through him quieting the hatred spewing in his mind over her misdeeds. Her eyes drifted from him to the back door. That door stood only a yard from her, but her age pitted against his strength—no doubt who’d win.

His gaze, however, fixated on the pendant—an inverted triangle with an inner cross connecting the three sides—twisting on a gold chain around her neck. The edges of the triangle kept catching in the sun lulling him. He glanced at the tattoo on his left wrist.
A perfect match
. How dare this treacherous woman wear such a treasured insignia.
Blasphemous
. His hand contracted into a fist. His breathing drew sharp,
not yet
.

He placed the underside of his wrist facing up on the table exposing his tattoo. Her gaze drifted from his face to his tattoo. She closed her exquisite amber colored eyes. He couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

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