BLURB
Atlanta image consultant Victoria Sharpe is about to give a makeover to the man who broke her heart in college, and a
do-over to a love that always should have been.
SYNOPSIS:
Looking at her potential client, Atlanta image consultant Victoria Sharpe is convinced the job will be a cross between What Not to Wear and Man vs. Wild. She’d love to turn down the offer, but refusing it—not to mention the referrals it could generate—just might break the bank. Yet, agreeing to make over this man’s image might also break her heart. Again.
Max Brown will
tolerate anything to gain access to his trust fund. Returning to work in the
family business, even submitting to his mother’s demands to trade his
comfortable flannel for Armani is worthwhile if he can get the money necessary
to start a camp for at-risk boys. But then he sees he’ll be working with
Victoria Sharpe, his college girlfriend, the one who got away. Or, really, the
one he left. The impression he makes here will be the most important of his life,
and the person most as risk is himself.
EXCERPT 1
Max jangled his car keys in his hand as he waited at Victoria’s door. He felt as nervous as a fifteen-year-old on his first date. He wore the gray pants and navy blazer Victoria had approved together with a brilliantly white shirt and a yellow tie with small navy dots. He wiggled his toes in his new black oxfords and marveled at how comfortable they were. True to her word, Victoria had steered a wide berth around wing tips and had showed him that style and comfort were not mutually exclusive.
He knocked a second time and nervously straightened his tie. And when she finally opened the door and he got his first glimpse of her, he let out a low whistle. His gut told him he would have a hard time keeping his hands off her.
And hard was the operative word as his body twitched below his belt. The black dress had a ruffled skirt that skimmed her knee. The V neckline teased at her cleavage but left plenty to the imagination. Simple sapphire and diamond earrings sparkled as they caught the light, and he saw a matching bracelet circling her wrist. While her high-heeled shoes were plain, they made her legs seem as if they went on forever. And when she bent to pick up her purse from a table beside the door, he caught a glimpse of her black lacy bra and gritted his teeth in an effort to will his body to cooperate.
This might be a very long and very frustrating night.
After taking her arm and helping her negotiate the steps down to the drive, he held her purse and wrap while she settled into the passenger side of his SUV. She had certainly taken her own advice to heart. She was stylish and understated, but he wasn’t so sure her classic beauty wouldn’t make her stand out like a diamond among pieces of coal.
They chatted about mundane things for most of the drive to his parents’ estate, but when he turned into the long drive lined by towering pines, he posed a question. “Are you okay with me introducing you tonight as my image consultant? I mean, that won’t make you feel like…well, you know.” He was at a loss for words.
“What you are trying to ask is if I’
ll be insulted if people think I am your employee.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, you’
re not, but in this crowd, that’s liable to be what people assume. I was just thinking you might drum up a little business when people see how you turned the beast into Prince Charming.”
“Too bad I didn’
t tame his raging ego, too.”
“Touché.”
Victoria laughed, and once again Max had to scold his misbehaving libido.
EXCERPT 2
The persistent knocking at her front door roused Victoria from a dream where she and Max lived in a log cabin deep in the Rockies with their child
—a toddler with eyes as blue as the mountain sky and brown hair that curled at his nape just like his daddy’s. The dream was a recent and recurring one, and she always woke from it a little sad. In her dream they were a family—together and happy. The location puzzled her because even though Max had invited her into his world for that one day of hiking, she knew she’d never be invited in completely. She had wondered, though, what she would have done if Max had extended that invitation. Cold and snow and isolation were out of her comfort zone.
She pulled on her robe, grabbed her phone in case she needed to call 911 and padded barefoot toward the front door, wishing she had insisted Nick install a peephole so she could see the late-night visitor. She moved to the window and nudged the curtain aside in the hope she could see a car parked below and determine her visitor’s identity.
Only one person in her circle of friends drove a black SUV, but what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Colorado making his dream come true.
The knocking intensified. “Victoria, open the door,” Max yelled.
She opened the door a few inches and glared at the subject of her dream. Dark stubble covered the lower half of his face and his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. It had taken him only two days to undo weeks of image coaching. Yet she had to admit he wore grungy well. Way too damned well for her erratic hormones.
“You’re
usually not asleep so early on a Saturday night.” He propped one hand against the door frame.
I’m usually not pregnant and bone tired.
Victoria crossed her arms in a defensive pose, the pressure aggravating her already tender breasts. “You’re not supposed to be here. Did you forget the way to Colorado and lose your razor in the process?”
“Can I at least come inside to have this discussion?”
She swung the door open wide and waved him in. He strode to the sofa and sank onto it. His gaze swept her from head to toe. “Nice outfit,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I didn
’t know you had a thing for Superman.”
Victoria pulled her robe around her and tied the sash tightly around the loose lounge pants and oversized red and blue t-shirt.
“Every woman has a thing for a man who stands up for truth and justice and comes to her rescue.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I guess that
’s why you don’t have a shirt with my picture on it.”
Max jangled his car keys in his hand as he waited at Victoria’s door. He felt as nervous as a fifteen-year-old on his first date. He wore the gray pants and navy blazer Victoria had approved together with a brilliantly white shirt and a yellow tie with small navy dots. He wiggled his toes in his new black oxfords and marveled at how comfortable they were. True to her word, Victoria had steered a wide berth around wing tips and had showed him that style and comfort were not mutually exclusive.
He knocked a second time and nervously straightened his tie. And when she finally opened the door and he got his first glimpse of her, he let out a low whistle. His gut told him he would have a hard time keeping his hands off her.
And hard was the operative word as his body twitched below his belt. The black dress had a ruffled skirt that skimmed her knee. The V neckline teased at her cleavage but left plenty to the imagination. Simple sapphire and diamond earrings sparkled as they caught the light, and he saw a matching bracelet circling her wrist. While her high-heeled shoes were plain, they made her legs seem as if they went on forever. And when she bent to pick up her purse from a table beside the door, he caught a glimpse of her black lacy bra and gritted his teeth in an effort to will his body to cooperate.
This might be a very long and very frustrating night.
After taking her arm and helping her negotiate the steps down to the drive, he held her purse and wrap while she settled into the passenger side of his SUV. She had certainly taken her own advice to heart. She was stylish and understated, but he wasn’t so sure her classic beauty wouldn’t make her stand out like a diamond among pieces of coal.
They chatted about mundane things for most of the drive to his parents’ estate, but when he turned into the long drive lined by towering pines, he posed a question. “Are you okay with me introducing you tonight as my image consultant? I mean, that won’t make you feel like…well, you know.” He was at a loss for words.
“What you are trying to ask is if I’
ll be insulted if people think I am your employee.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, you’
re not, but in this crowd, that’s liable to be what people assume. I was just thinking you might drum up a little business when people see how you turned the beast into Prince Charming.”
“Too bad I didn’
t tame his raging ego, too.”
“Touché.”
Victoria laughed, and once again Max had to scold his misbehaving libido.
EXCERPT 2
The persistent knocking at her front door roused Victoria from a dream where she and Max lived in a log cabin deep in the Rockies with their child
—a toddler with eyes as blue as the mountain sky and brown hair that curled at his nape just like his daddy’s. The dream was a recent and recurring one, and she always woke from it a little sad. In her dream they were a family—together and happy. The location puzzled her because even though Max had invited her into his world for that one day of hiking, she knew she’d never be invited in completely. She had wondered, though, what she would have done if Max had extended that invitation. Cold and snow and isolation were out of her comfort zone.
She pulled on her robe, grabbed her phone in case she needed to call 911 and padded barefoot toward the front door, wishing she had insisted Nick install a peephole so she could see the late-night visitor. She moved to the window and nudged the curtain aside in the hope she could see a car parked below and determine her visitor’s identity.
Only one person in her circle of friends drove a black SUV, but what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Colorado making his dream come true.
The knocking intensified. “Victoria, open the door,” Max yelled.
She opened the door a few inches and glared at the subject of her dream. Dark stubble covered the lower half of his face and his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. It had taken him only two days to undo weeks of image coaching. Yet she had to admit he wore grungy well. Way too damned well for her erratic hormones.
“You’re
usually not asleep so early on a Saturday night.” He propped one hand against the door frame.
I’m usually not pregnant and bone tired.
Victoria crossed her arms in a defensive pose, the pressure aggravating her already tender breasts. “You’re not supposed to be here. Did you forget the way to Colorado and lose your razor in the process?”
“Can I at least come inside to have this discussion?”
She swung the door open wide and waved him in. He strode to the sofa and sank onto it. His gaze swept her from head to toe. “Nice outfit,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I didn
’t know you had a thing for Superman.”
Victoria pulled her robe around her and tied the sash tightly around the loose lounge pants and oversized red and blue t-shirt.
“Every woman has a thing for a man who stands up for truth and justice and comes to her rescue.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I guess that
’s why you don’t have a shirt with my picture on it.”
PURCHASING LINKS:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1seF1de
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/better-as-a-memory-marilyn- baxter/1119478339?ean=2940045937115
AUTHOR BIO:
In 2001, Marilyn discovered Romance novels quite by accident, which led to a renewed interest in writing. She started out by writing fanfiction about Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Superman, which developed into a desire to write about her own characters. She’s had over forty short stories published in the confessions and Romance magazines.
Also, she has taught a class in how to
effectively write for this genre and worked as a researcher and copy editor for
several Romance authors. All this combined to give her a great love of the
Romance genre and helped develop a multitude of friendships in the Romance
community.
She’s a member of Romance Writers
ofAmerica, as well as her local chapter, Heart of Dixie. In addition to
reading, Marilyn loves to knit (as long as it’s only a scarf), cook (in the
crockpot), garden (in a couple of pots on her patio), and her motto is “Have
passport, will travel.” She’d love to add to the list of 32 states and 21
foreign countries she’s already visited.
After raising two great sons, she loves
to spoil... er... dote on her two granddaughters.
Social Media:
Website: www.marilynbaxter.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/marilyn.baxter.372
Twitter: twitter.com/marilyn_baxter
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5795962.Marilyn_Baxter
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