By JC Jaye
NEED IT, BAD
Bebe Anderson, aka ‘Mizz Moneypitz’ is new to town: penning her popular blog for crazy fixer-uppers like herself, rehabbing her own money pit, and doing her damnedest to avoid the perv next door. The last thing she expected was to fall for taciturn hunk Tommy Branson, he of the big, noisy delivery truck that rumbles past her windows daily. Pretty soon, she’s cooking up all sorts of schemes to get Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sweaty over her crumbling door stoop, and into her bed. Mercy, this girl Needs It, Bad!
QUESTION IS, DOES SEXY TOMMYBOY FEEL THE SAME? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, HOW’S SHE GONNA REPAIR HER ROYAL SCREW-UP TO FIND OUT?
Ex-Marine Tommy Branson ain’t loving life lately. He’s got a back-busting gig offloading junk to annoying customers, a dad deep in the throes of Alzheimer’s, and a buncha buddies who get their jollies razzing him for living like a monk. But things sure perk up when gorgeous Ms. A. hangs her shorty-shorts in that piece of crap she just bought. This sassy stunner appears hellbent on driving him, and what’s under his khakis, stark-raving mad. Damn, but he Needs It, Bad!
BUT BEFORE HE CAN GRUFF OUT A ‘SIGN HERE,’ HE’S BEEN KICKED TO THE CURB. HOW THE FRIG HAD HE BLOWN IT? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, HOW’S HE GONNA GET HIS BABY BACK?
Erotic Rom-Com Author
It was all Rhett and Scarlett’s fault.
Bit by the romance lovebug at a tender young age, JC has been devouring steamy romantic fiction ever since. Seriously… What could possibly be more delectable at the end of a rough day than a big, bad, slightly moody male brought to his hunky knees by a gorgeous, kick-ass babe of a heroine?
Well, besides a brimming glass of vino and some imported brie, that is.
Finally finding the time (kinda) to pen her own naughty fantasies while juggling a busy career in design, JC invites her readers to indulge in decadent escape through her somewhat indelicate, passion-saturated tales.
JC lives in upstate NY with her own slightly moody, somewhat indelicate, but extremely supportive husband and trio of nutball terriers.
And, no… Sadly, my delivery dude looks nothing like Tommy. Dagnabbit.
C.D., New York