This is a mock-up cover, but for now, it’s just a placeholder
I’ve been working on this for a while, back and forth, and it’s got me in a grip you cannot imagine.
About this story:
Invisible grocery worker Spencer agrees to a favor for her best friend—only to be recruited as a dying woman’s “substitute wife” for her powerful husband. Loyalty, desire, and control collide during ninety-six dangerous hours that could change everything.
This story contains themes that may be sensitive for some readers, including:
- Power imbalance dynamics
- Terminal illness
- Coercion and moral pressure
- Class disparity
- Contractual intimacy
- Non-traditional relationship structures
- Emotional trauma and abandonment themes
- Explicit discussions of sexual consent
💜 Note: Consent, communication, and emotional safety are explored throughout the story.
I’m a sucker for deadlines and contracts, and this one really had me very focused.
I’m in Chapter 34 at 107K words (and yes we’re getting close to the resolution, but bear with me, okay)
And I wrote this really good one that I had to share.
It’s not all about doing the do. It’s what romance in books is about. The connection. The intensity that we often lose and always want. But it’s sexy, and that’s why I posted this.
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 34:
Every inch the door opened sent her heartbeat racing another mile an hour, and she was breathless as she looked upon Marques Parson filling the doorway like he was supposed to be there.
His eyes left hers just to look past her to see if she was alone, and then his eyes lit up on her clothes laid out for tomorrow with the granny panties on top.
A flicker of annoyance passed over his face before his eyes returned to hers. The silence between them was filled with a tension so powerful that one could cut it with a knife.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
They had spoken at the same time.
Spencer tilted her head to the side. “And you dragged yourself out in the middle of Detroit to come tell me you couldn’t sleep?”
Marques hadn’t moved from the doorway to come in or move away. His hand tightened in stress, and his jaw muscles flickered. “Delanie said I needed-“
“I don’t want to hear what that woman has to say,” she hissed, stepping away from the door, ready to slam it.
“I’m not here as her husband, or your boss Spencer.”
He said her name. It grounded her to know where he was. She could connect to him. She loved and hated that.
END OF EXCERPT
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