school sweethearts. What a load of bull.
have been my first love, but it never meant I wanted to hear lyrics containing
my name, love story, and *cringe* how I lost my virginity peddled out for the
masses to digest.
years later, and I’m still being haunted by his photo in every magazine, his
music on every radio station. I thought breakups meant that you never had to
see the person again. Especially when they ripped out your heart and made
hamburger meat with it.
a chance encounter ends up going viral, I’m tied to him in a way I’ve always dreaded.
And the last person on earth I’d want to spend an hour with, much less a
lifetime, makes me an offer I can’t refuse. I might just be desperate enough to
in the song is real. And she’s made me a rich man.
been dedicating choruses to her for a decade, she’s the muse she never wanted
to be. Off of our love, I’ve become famous … and a complete egomaniac.
another one of my flings goes off the rails, and lands me in hot water with the
media, my recording label is less than thrilled. And so comes the marching
orders from my agent; devise a scheme to transform into a squeaky clean good
face to face with her is something I’ve only dreamed about. If not to win her
back, then to at least apologize for the ways I’ve exploited her. Instead, I
rope her into my madness, proposing a deal only a masochist would accept.
novels such as Red Card and All the Frogs in Manhattan, Carrie Aarons writes
sexy, swoon-worthy, sarcastic characters who won’t get out of her head until
she puts them down on a page.
Carrie has wanted to be an author since the first time she opened a book, and
can’t imagine a better or more maddening profession.
A lover of good manicures, Riesling and the beach, she enjoys chasing her puppy
through the dog parks of New Jersey, or trying to make her husband binge watch
the latest Netflix craze.