Author Maggie Marr
Released January 14, 2014
Publisher: NLA DLP
A New Adult Contemporary Romance Series
By Maggie Marr
A promise to keep….
Honoring her mother’s last wish, Lane Channing vows to follow her dreams. She takes the ‘big risk’ and leaves her small Kansas town behind and heads to LA, the city of dreams. She’s got a stellar job lined up, an old jeep, and 20 bucks to last her to her first paycheck. Her hopes shatter when she arrives to find her job’s been given to someone else. Now she’s broke and will soon be living on the
streets if she doesn’t do something fast. Welcome to cutthroat – Lane is most certainly not in Kansas anymore.
On the cusp of success…
Dillon MacAvoy has one goal–to become a star–whatever it takes. Even if it means honing his bad-boy can’t-be-tamed-and-forever-single image. Besides the image isn’t far from the truth. Dillon cares only about his younger brother and his career. He’s on the brink of superstardom if he can just decide on the next right script. But for that, he needs a script reader he can trust.
In a strange twist of fate…
Lane Channing is Dillon’s last chance. If Lane lasts the summer without becoming MacAvoy’s latest conquest, she’s guaranteed a job in entertainment. No problem, as long as she can ignore the heat that pulses through her every time Dillon is in the room. After all, love and commitment with a sweet, hometown girl would only ruin the Dillon MacAvoy brand.
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Special Excerpts Provided by Author
My eyes fluttered open. I kicked my foot out from under the comforter on my bed. I’d had trouble falling asleep when I got back to the house. I flipped over my cell phone and glanced at the time—it was 2:07 a.m.and I was wide-awake.
Kong lay curled up on the pillow beside me while Scorsese and Spielberg slept at the foot of my bed. Bernie lay lengthwise beside me like a human. I ran my hand across Bernie’s thick fur. My heart hurt. Last week I’d felt bad for Dillon. I’d felt bad that he was trapped in a horrible place between his parents and his brother. Parents who, from what it sounded like, wouldn’t accept Choo for who he was, but yet still wanted to be a part of Dillon’s life.
Tonight I didn’t feel bad for Dillon. I felt angry and hurt and shocked at how intense all my feelings were. There were two Dillons and I kept ping-ponging between them. There was the guy who’d humiliated me when I was lost and then made me feel embarrassed again tonight. Frustration spiked through my chest as the feeling of embarrassment flooded through me with the two memories.
Then there was the other Dillon. The guy who’d rescued four dogs. The guy who smiled and gave me the keys to his car. The guy who was sexy as hell and seemed interested in what I had to say. That was the Dillon my heart hurt for. That was the Dillon I wanted to know and be around. That Dillon seemed to pop out, be wildly nice, and then immediately disappear. Maybe I was lucky that the sweet version of Dillon wasn’t around more. The jerky version I could work for and ignore.
He wasn’t someone who wanted a relationship. Already, I’d seen him with a multitude of different women. Dillon MacAvoy wanted me to walk his dogs and read his scripts. I brushed a stray hair back from my forehead. Something about Dillon pressed hard against my heart. I was drawn to him. When he’d grabbed my arm tonight, heat had jolted through me. When he’d whispered in my ear, even with the awful words he said, I still couldn’t catch my breath with him so near. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel those giant hands on my body, stroking over me where no one had stroked before.
A moan drifted up from the yard. When I’d gotten home, I’d taken two ibuprofen and pulled open my balcony doors before I’d gone to bed. I’d hoped the fresh air would cool my body and my mind.
My heart clenched and I scrunched my eyes closed. A hard, sick feeling lodged in my belly. The voice was female. There was only one man in this house who could cause a woman to moan like that.
“Yes, please, Dillon. Please.”
I didn’t want to hear this. I couldn’t stand to hear this. I slid my foot to the floor beneath my bed. I wouldn’t look. Looking would be so bad. I pressed forward across the floor to the balcony doors. I would pull the doors closed and then please, hopefully, I wouldn’t have to hear the things I definitely didn’t want to hear.
I placed my hand on the knob of the door, but instead of pulling the door closed, my body moved forward. My heart accelerated as though it would burst through my ribs. What would I see? My foot stepped out on to the balcony. Every good part of me screamed don’t do it, don’t look down, but every part that was curious had to peer over the balcony. I had to see.
I looked over the edge. The pool lights were on and an aqua glow lit the yard. The girl with the long black hair was bent over the outdoor lounger. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. Her tongue flicked over her lips as soft, deep moans flowed from her mouth. Pleasure rushed across her face. She was naked. Barebacked. Her breasts rocked rhythmically and her ink-black hair fell to the side of her face.
Behind her was Dillon. His hands clasped her naked waist with a tight grip. My fingertips covered my mouth. His face was clenched and his head rolled from side to side as he pumped his body into her. The muscles of his chest glistened. His biceps tightened. He threw his head back and opened his eyes.
Our gazes locked. His blue eyes seared through me—I was frozen. I couldn’t move. Heat surged through me while my eyes were anchored to him. Heat that pooled in my belly and between my legs. My heart pounded. The world tilted with the thought that burst into my brain.
I wanted to be that girl.
A growl coursed over his lips as he pumped into her and stared at me. Tingles cascaded over my skin. I wanted Dillon to strain and growl and be inside me. I’d never been any of that to any man, but I wanted to be that for Dillon.
I watched as she moaned and pressed backward. I watched as he thrust hard into her.
“Yes, yes!” the girl yelled.
The sound of her voice broke my trance. I jumped backward into the darkness of my room. I shouldn’t have watched. I shouldn’t want this.
I might have been straight out of the fly-over states, but I wasn’t a moron. I definitely didn’t appreciate the looks or the attitude being shot my way. I stood in the center of the human resources department in my new suit and my new heels with my new bag and my new haircut, expecting to start my new job.
“What do you mean my job is gone?” My fingertips tingled and my heart jolted in my chest. I stared wide-eyed at the blonde behind the human resources desk. She settled her chin on her hand. She looked bored. My problem was definitely not her problem. A part of me wanted to reach over and shake her.
“A client needed a summer internship for his brother.”
“But you have something else for me, right?” My voice grew louder as the idea of what was going down sank into my brain. “I just drove two thousand miles for a summer job.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I need the money.”
Her eyes slitted and she tilted her head. “It’s an internship,” she said. “You don’t get paid for an internship in entertainment.” Her eyes roamed over me and my sixty-dollar suit like I was a hick from Hicksville, USA. When was the last time this little girl had ever paid for anything on her own? Her HR assistant gig wasn’t paying for those Loubies on her feet, which were peeking out from under her desk. Damn, those were some great-looking shoes.
“What kind of company doesn’t pay a person for summer work?” I asked.
“The kind of company that gets five thousand résumés a week.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as though she was educating a Neanderthal and not someone who’d just locked down her third year of college. She resettled her gaze on me. “Who do you even know to get in here?” she asked as though there had been some tragic mistake other than CTA giving away my internship to some overindulged rich kid and me believing my internship would be paid.
Who did I even know? I cocked my hip to the side and sucked in my cheeks. Little Miss Attitude was not so great at HR. “A friend of my mom referred me,” I said. “But I nailed the Skype interview.”
“Who’s your mom?” She twisted her blond extensions between her finger and thumb, suddenly interested that maybe I was somebody she should know.
A piece of my heart broke with the word mom on her lips. Who was my mom? She was my world—had been my entire world—with her wild, curly golden hair and bright blue eyes, eyes that always seemed to smile even when things were remarkably bad. Tiny pinpricks of heat started at the backs of my eyes and I swallowed and forced myself to concentrate on the entitled girl in front of me.
“That’s not important.” I cleared my throat and looked around the gray room full of cubicles. “Is there anyone else I can talk to? You know, about a real job?”
I’d rolled into L.A. on gas fumes and grabbed a bed and a shower in a Best Western. I didn’t know a soul in Los Angeles. I had approximately seventy dollars to last me until my first paycheck, and I dearly hoped one of my coworkers needed a roommate for the summer. Call me a gambler, call me a risk-taker, call me crazy—I’d been called worse—but when I found out I’d gotten the gig for the summer at CTA, the biggest entertainment agency in L.A., I didn’t think twice about hitting the road from Lawrence for my opportunity of a lifetime. Especially after the hell of the past year. The only problem was that it appeared that my “opportunity of a lifetime” had evaporated.
“You can talk to Nancy,” the blonde said and jerked her head toward the door. “She’s the head of HR, but she won’t have anything for you either. Not if you need money.”
A flush blossomed on my neck and bloomed on my cheeks. Who didn’t need money? Oh, right, rich kids with trust funds and parents that stole other kids’ jobs. Yes, I was one of those people that needed money. No daddy to bail my ass out, no mama with a trust fund to pay for my entire life. I had to actually work and get paid to have clothes, a car, a place to live, and even school.
“Take a seat. I’ll see if she has time.”
Half a day later, after meeting with two other people, both of whom seemed grandly perplexed that I would assume my internship was paid, I had no job, no internship, and in twenty-four hours most likely no place to stay.
About the Author
Maggie Marr grew up in the Midwest and made the move to Los Angeles to work in the movie business. She was a motion picture literary agent for ICM before becoming a full time writer. She’s written for film and TV and ghostwritten for celebrities. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and children.
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Print Copy of Hard Glamour by Author Maggie Marr
Currently I am on Chapter 19 of 27 in the novel, Hard Glamour by Maggie Marr. This book has me so sucked in at this point of the story. At this point I have no idea how the story will end. Will the Hero and Heroine fall in love or just enjoy the summer and then go their separate ways? Looking forward to finishing the book and especially the sneak peek at the next novel in the series, Broken Glamour at the very end of , Hard Glamour!
Time to go back to Reading