She’s going to lose her house.
Kathleen Baum has four months to complete the city’s required code changes to
her grandma’s home. Otherwise, she loses it. Strapped for cash, Kat’s only way
to get the funds is to bargain with her devil cousin. She agrees to an unwanted
makeover, but she’s not good at taking direction, pretend or not.
He’s going to lose his business.
Devid Esposito has worked all his life to build a successful image consulting
company, but if he doesn’t start bringing in new clients the business will be
bankrupt in three months. The board is ready to oust him when his partner, Kat’s
cousin, enters with the opportunity to get his mojo back; all he needs to do is
help Kat, with a makeover. Unfortunately, Dev doesn’t take on female clients
anymore since the last one broke his heart and used his tips against him.
When they find out they have a common enemy, his heart-breaking client is her
code-breaking-whistleblower, and the easiest way to bring the foe down is to
accept the other’s help. Losing their hearts to each other was the one thing they
didn’t plan for.
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As she trudged across the parking lot and onto the trail entrance, the crisp September air hit her nostrils. The sensation triggered favorite fall memories—football, apple cider, pumpkin pie—not exercise. The Compton Garden Conference Center loomed in front of her. Once a house, it had been remodeled in honor of the doctor who’d lived there as a meeting center. Another historical piece of downtown Bentonville transformed for public use. If Pru got her hands on Kat’s house, a similar fate would occur. The idea congealed the soda pop in her stomach. Reminded of her purpose, the Herculean task she needed to undertake to save her future, she marched forward with a bit more resolve.
And the man she needed to convince to help her stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, bent over touching his toes. She stopped and watched, mesmerized, as he stretched and moved. Compared to Nick, who’d been all lanky, gangly limbs with little tone, her image consultant had enough muscle to spare. Shame Dev hid his body inside a suit all day.
He finished his last stretch, released the foot in his hand, and turned to face her. “Good morning.”
“That could be left up to interpretation.” Her response garnered a raised eyebrow. She came to a stop next to him. He appeared awake and alert, and yes, she believed eight o’clock on Saturdays was too damn early for greeting the weekend. “I’m more for stumbling out of bed around ten for brunch.”
“Is this how you usually respond to people who offer you greetings?” Dev’s grumpy tone sounded as sexy as any other tonality he’d used with her.
Get a hold of yourself.
Landra Graf consumes at least one book a day, and has always been a sucker
for stories where true love conquers all. She believes in the power of the written
word, and the joy such words can bring. In between spending time with her
family and having book adventures, she writes romance with the goal of giving
everyone, fictional or not, their own happily ever after.
Author website and social media links
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