Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)(81)
To my beautiful best friend whose relentless enthusiasm and love for my characters always warms the cockles of my cold, dead heart - I love you so much, Andrea. You are like a permanent ray of sunshine in my life.
To the wonderful girls who support me, kick my ass, and keep the wheels of Team Rayven oiled and rolling - Chloe, Cecile, and Chanpreet - you girls rock my world. Thank you so much for your time and energy. You're all stars.
Thanks to the amazing Nina Bocci for her epic pimpage, as well as all the incredible bloggers and readers who help thrust my words into people's eyeballs. Without you, I'd be throwing a whole bunch of books into the void where they'd stagnate, unread and unloved.
To all the Pams and Chignons - thank you so much for your support and wisdom. If it weren't for you, I'd spend my days banging my head against the keyboard muttering, "I don't get it. I don't understand," over and over again. Thanks also to Nina Levine for holding my hand while I navigated the great unknown.
To Regina Wamba for her gorgeous cover - girl, you're the bomb. And the diggity. All the diggity.
And finally, an enormous thanks to you, my wonderful, passionate readers. I adore every single one of you, whether you're one of the bodacious Babes from Romeo's Dressing Room, or just a quiet, consistent supporter. You guys are the reason I write. In particular, you're the reason this book came about. You all touched me so much with your heartfelt pleas for more from our Starcrossed crew, I couldn't help but revisit these crazy couples, and I'm so glad I did. Thank you for giving me an excuse to climb back into their world for a little while. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Don't forget, if you ever want to reach out and say 'hi', I'm all over social media, and you can subscribe to my newsletter with this link:
http://eepurl.com/bRdvrH
Alternatively, you can join my private reader group on Facebook (simply search for Romeo's Dressing Room,) or contact me through my website:
WWW.LEISARAYVEN.COM
Once again, thank you all for your support and generosity, and I wish you all love, light, and lots of laughter in the year ahead.
Love and hugs,
Leisa x
Want more Leisa Rayven? You got it!
Coming Soon!
Mister Romance
Max Riley is the man of your dreams. At least, he will be, for a price.
As his alter-ego Mr. Romance, Max is an escort-with-a-difference. No sex, just a swoon-worthy dates to die for, and the cream of New York's socialites can't get enough. His specialty is bringing women's greatest romantic fantasies to life, whatever they might be. Want a dominating billionaire, a bad boy with a heart of gold, a hot geek, sexy biker, or best friend who's secretly loved you from afar? Max can make it all happen, and even though women fall in love with him on a daily basis, he's careful to keep his real identity a secret.
Enter investigative journalist and professional cynic, Eden Tate. Having caught wind of the urban legend of Mr. Romance, Eden is like a dog with a bone, determined to publish a scathing expose on Max and his ability to swindle lonely society women out of their money.
Desperate to protect his anonymity, Max challenges Eden to give him three dates. If she doesn't fall totally in love with him, she can run her story with his blessing. However, if she succumbs to his charms, the story dies.
Eden is confident she can resist Max's tacky, make-believe personas, but when a traumatic night leads them back to his apartment and she gets to know the man beneath the facade, her story takes on a whole other twist; one in which her heart will have the final say as to whether she chooses a career-making tell-all, or the fascinating man with the mysterious past.
Read an Excerpt
The first time I hear the term ‘Mr. Romance’, I’m convinced my sweet-but-naive baby sister has been duped into believing yet another urban legend.
I stop filling the coffee maker and turn to Asha, who’s sitting at the breakfast bar in our cozy apartment, looking way too put together for six a.m. on a Monday morning.
“You’re telling me that you can hire a man to make your wildest romantic fantasies come to life, Ash? Come on. There’s no way that’s a thing.”
“It’s true!” she insists. “Joanna was dishing the dirt in the break room at work. She overheard a whole bunch of women talking about him at some thousand-dollar-a-ticket charity event on the weekend.”
“What the hell was Joanna the secretary doing at that kind of event?”
“Her cousin is related to some obscure Latvian royalty or something. The crown prince’s limo broke down on the way in from the airport, so Joanna was invited at the last minute to take his ticket.”
I give my sister a deadpan look. “Latvian royalty. Of course. Makes perfect sense.”
My sister works at a publishing house, and even though I haven’t met all of her co-workers, the ones I have met are definitely on the strange side of quirky.
“Isn’t Joanna the compulsive liar?” I ask.
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know stuff. She overheard a handful of women talking about this God-like uber-stud. One of them claimed one date with him cured her depression. Another said he saved her marriage, because until he unlocked her libido, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed sex. This whole gaggle of women thinks he’s their romantic savior. Jill-off Jesus, or whatever.”