Ella Maise

Jason Thorn… My brother’s childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy that made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time—he was the reason for them all. But, you only get to live in that fairytale world until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces. After the stomping part he became the boy I did my best to stay away from—and let me tell you, it was pretty hard to do when he slept in the room right across from mine. When tragedy struck his family and they moved away, I was ready to forget he ever existed. Now he is a movie star, the one who makes women of all ages go into a screaming frenzy, the one who makes everyone swoon with that dimpled smile of his. Do you think that’s dreamy? I certainly don’t think so. How about me coming face to face with him? Nope still not dreamy. Not when I can’t even manage to look him in the eye. Me? I’m Olive, a new writer. Actually, I’m THE writer of the book that inspired the movie he is about to star in on the big screen. As of late, I am also referred to as the oh-so-very-lucky girl who is about to become the wife of Jason Thorn. Maybe you’re thinking yet again that this is all so dreamy? Nope, nothing dreamy going on here. Not even close. To Love Jason Thorn is a full-length standalone, which also contains some pretty hot and descriptive sex scenes. *winks*

So you may ask, who is Adam Connor? He is the recently divorced, Academy Award-winning actor who just moved in next door with his kid. He also happens to be an exquisite male specimen and the most infuriating sly bastard I’ve ever come across. Let’s be honest here, wouldn’t you wanna take a peek over the wall to catch a glimpse of him, hopefully when he is naked? Wouldn’t you melt away after watching him work out as his five-year-old kid cheered him on? Do I even have to mention those abs, the big bulge in his pants, or that arm porn? Oh, wait, you would never spy on him? Sure… While I was being thoughtful by not breaking and entering and was actually considering going over to offer him a shoulder—or maybe a boob or two—to cry on (y’know, because of his divorce), instead he had me thrown in jail after a small incident. Jail, people! He was supposed to grant me countless orgasms as a thank you, not a jail cell. After that day, I was mentally plotting ways to strangle him instead of jumping his bones to make sweet love. So what if my body did more than just shiver when he whispered dirty little things in my ear? I can’t be held responsible for that. And when was the last time he’d kissed anyone anyway? Who’d enjoy a kiss with a side of heart attack? Even if he and his son were the best things since sliced bread—and I’m not saying he was—I couldn’t fall for him. No matter what promises he whispered on my skin, my curse wouldn’t let us be. I wasn’t a damsel in distress—I could save myself, thank you very much—but deep inside, I still hoped Adam Connor would be the hero of my story. *Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18*

Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own. One second he was no one. The next he became everything. One second he was unattainable. The next he seemed to be completely mine. One second I thought we were in love. The next it was still nothing but a lie. After all, I was Rose and he was Jack. We were doomed from the very beginning with those names. Did you expect anything else?

The first time you meet someone, you make eye contact. You smile, say hello. Should be simple, if you’re anyone but me. The first time I met Dylan Reed, I found myself making eye contact with a different part of his body. You see, I’m very good at being shy, not to mention extremely well-versed in rambling nonsense and, unfortunately, rather highly skilled at making a fool of myself in front of a guy I’m attracted to. At the time, I knew nothing about him and thought none of what I said would matter since I’d never speak to him again. Turns out, I was very wrong. He was the star wide receiver of the football team, one of the few players expected to make it into the NFL, and I ended up seeing him all over campus. I might have also propositioned him, run away from him, attacked him with a cooking utensil…and…uh, maybe I shouldn’t tell you all of it. It’s pretty normal stuff, things you’d expect…from me. Eventually, the time came when I couldn’t hide anymore—not that he’d have let me even if I tried. Before now, he never knew I was secretly watching him. Now that we see each other every day, he knows when I have a hard time looking away. It doesn’t help that I’m not the most subtle person in the world either. He smiles at me and tells me he finds me fascinating because of my quirks. I can’t even tell him that I think my heart beats differently whenever he’s around. He thinks we’re going to be best friends. I think I have a big thing for him, and the more I get to know him, the more I don’t care that I’m not allowed to be his friend, let alone fall for him. The thing is, that’s exactly what I’m doing—what we’re doing, I think. Falling. Hard.

Six years ago at a random diner I met a stranger and he became the-one-who-got-away, or more correctly the-one-who-didn’t-show-up. A small advice from me to you: if you haven’t dated, touched *or* kissed a guy in years and *years*…do not try to crawl away or hide from the-one-who-got-away. It’s not a good look. William Carter, the stranger I’d met six years ago was the last person I’d imagine ever seeing at my dad’s firm where I work. While I panic and fight off the butterflies in my stomach and in general struggle to act normal, I realize he doesn’t even remember me. I’m not sure if I should feel relieved or heartbroken. Things get worse when I learn we’ll need to work in close quarters to each other, but at least I let him know that I don’t have a crush on him anymore right away. Just in case he gets any ideas. While I’m in the process of writing lists and making serious changes in my life, because I decide I’m ready to be the heroine in my own story; having William just a breath away is not helping things. Especially when things shift between us and we start to make eye contact in meetings. Then he shows up in places I least expect him to…as in blind dates and sex clubs. He also gives me cheese because he knows how much I like it and there are secret notes he leaves in my office. If you were wondering, I still don’t have a crush on him though. Nope. Even though I’d promised myself I’d never wait around for another guy and postpone my own life, I’m afraid William Carter who looks at me as if I’m his and was always supposed to be his might ruin my hopeful plans. And quite possibly me for any other guy since I’m craving his touch like I’ve never craved anything in my life before. But we both know we’re a losing game so we keep admitting that neither one of us has a crush on the other. Not anymore. Not at all. Not even a little bit.