LUCKY LOVE will be free to download from 26th - 28th December, so fill your boots and tell all your friends. A not to be missed, hot read from a USA Today Bestselling Author.
Here's the blurb:
For perpetually single Jazmyn Harding, what's worse than being desperate and dateless?
Receiving advice from her brash, sixty-year-old aunt via Skype from Love, a kooky town in California.
Jazmyn has no intention to visit Love, but after one too many disastrous dates she agrees to Aunt Flo's challenge: if she's single in a month, she'll swap Sydney for Love.
Determined to find Mr. Right, Jazmyn plays the dating game with renewed vigour. But as the clock ticks down and her man drought continues, how far will she go to avoid Love?
And here's an excerpt from Chapter 1 -
Aunt Flo’s tips to be lucky in love.
Google naked pics of the Magic Mike cast daily and aspire to these kinds of men.
I turn a page and there it is. The answer to my problem. MANHUNT. GO OUT AND GRAB THE MAN OF YOUR DREAMS. MAKE IT HAPPEN TODAY. It’s a tiny black box squeezed between the ads for vibrators and psychics and has one of those 1800 numbers that charge a small fortune. I was tempted for a second, before I remembered my maxed out credit cards. And that little thing called pride.
I flip through the remainder of the magazine, forgetting the coffee. By the time I take a sip it’s lukewarm and I spit it out in the sink. Very ladylike. Not only am I drunk, single and self-pitying, I’m turning into a slob.
My laptop pings and I jump. I’m not in the mood to chat with Flo but she’s always good for a laugh and I could definitely do with one of those.
I fire up Skype and Flo’s wrinkled face framed by frizzy gray hair fills the screen.
“How’s my favorite niece?”
“Your only niece is fine.” Drunk, but fine, and I can’t help but chuckle as she leans closer to her PC, as if she can see me better that way. “What about you?”
“Can’t complain.” Flo taps a cigarette out of a pack, puts it to her mouth and lights up. “Booked your flight yet?”
Flo asks me this almost on a daily basis. With my stomach roiling and One Direction rehearsing in my head, I couldn’t couch my response in vague terms.
Flo frowned. “By your bleary eyes, mascara remnants and the fact you’re answering me at three a.m. OZ time, you’re alone and sozzled. Again. Why don’t you visit Love? Can’t hurt—”
“We’ve had this conversation a hundred times before. I don’t want a holiday fling.”
Who was I kidding? With the man-drought I’d been going through lately I wouldn’t knock back a no-holds-barred, steamy dalliance with a hot Yank.
Flo shook her head. “A change of scenery will do you good. And maybe you need to surround yourself by Love to find love—”
“It’s too early for puns.” I pressed fingertips to my temples. It did little for the pounding. “Don’t you have customers at the diner to go terrorize?”
“My shift doesn’t start for another hour.” Flo glanced at her watch. “Plenty of time to hassle you and squeeze in a Castle re-run.”
“How about you go drool over Nathan Fillion and I’ll get some sleep—”
“How about this? If you aren’t in a steady relationship by the end of the month, you agree to visit?”
“Not interested in Love.”
The moment the reflex rebuttal fell from my lips, I knew it wasn’t true.
I wanted to fall in love.
I wanted to have a real relationship for once in my life, not one that involved casual sex or minimal communication or batteries.
I wanted to prove I could tie down a guy, beyond my book boyfriend Christian Grey.
“Everyone deserves a little loving.” Flo winked. “And I reckon you’ll find it in Love. Guaranteed.”
I didn’t know whether it was the late hour, the usual Friday night party circuit with lack of a date, or the fact I was staring twenty-nine in the eye, but I found myself reluctantly nodding.
“Fine. If I’m single in a month, I’ll come visit.”
“Good girl.” Flo grinned, an action that accentuated the laugh-lines fanning from the corners of her faded blue eyes. “Now you go get some shut-eye, because I have a date with the fine Mr. Fillion.”
“Maybe you should get a real guy too?”
She always chastised me for being cheeky when I said this. To my amazement, this time she blushed.
She waved away a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Gotta go, you’re breaking up.”
The screen went dead, leaving me to ponder the unlikely scenario my sixty-year-old aunt, who’d been widowed for countless years, might be on the prowl for love too.