Chirp(94)






An Invitation to My Readers


Hey y’all,

If you like my book(s), pretty, pretty please go to Amazon or your other favorite online retailer and leave a review. I will appreciate it very much!

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I love hearing from readers. E-mail me at [email protected], or reach me via my website: www.anneverett.com

My heartfelt thanks,

~Ann





Sample from My New Adult Romance


Tell Me a Secret


Chapter One


Based on scientific studies, Maggie knew even good girls got aroused by bad boys. The personification of that research, Jace Sloan, strutted into the campus library with the confidence of a peacock, leaving a trail of pheromones to settle on every coed in the room. A wave of whispers circulated, each female mesmerized by his imaginary plumage.

Maggie surveyed his approach. He appeared to shift into slow motion, his stride lyrical, as if shuffling to a soulful beat, leaving no doubt as to why girls found him irresistible. He looked as if he could take you to hell and you’d enjoy the trip. Leaner than the men in her fantasies, he had the same blue eyes and dark hair, and a small, paper-thin scar on his chin made him just dangerous enough.

Drumming fingers in rhythm with her throbbing headache, she glanced at her watch. Thirty minutes late, as expected. This wasn’t her first experience with a college jock. Sophomore year, she’d tutored Texas Tech’s star quarterback, and what a jerk he’d turned out to be. But this time Dr. Adams assured her it would be different. Apparently the professor had made a mistake.

At least she was sitting in one of her favorite buildings, surrounded by the comforting scent of books. Technology was great, but holding a hardcover, the pages and words transporting her to places she dreamed about, made her happy.

A strand of unruly hair fell into her eyes and she puffed it away, then slid her glasses up on her nose and decided to look on the bright side. Given Jace’s reputation, he’d never stick with tutoring and she’d be off the hook. Besides, helping a self-centered pretty boy pass anatomy was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Maggie Fielding?” He looked sure of himself, and she felt uneasy. “I’m sorry I’m late. My truck had a flat.”

Motioning for him to take a seat, she checked the time again and frowned. “I understand, but I also have to study, so try to be on time.”

His grin disappeared. He grabbed the chair across from her, spun it around, and straddled the seat like he was doing it a favor.

She got right to the point. “There’s a technique that may help you. Do you know what a mnemonic is?”

“No. Sorry.”

“I’m sure you do, just not the word for it. You use the initials of words to help memorize information. For instance, to name the cranial bones, we’d use Old People From Texas Eat Spiders. Old would be occipital, People would be parietal, From would be frontal, and so on. Get it?”

“Yeah.” His answer came out warm enough to raise the temperature in the room. It elevated hers, and she scolded herself.

“If you agree with the method, that’s what we’ll use.”

Before he answered, Maggie caught sight of a curvaceous blonde wearing a halter top slightly larger than a baby’s bib. When she reached Jace, Booby-babe leaned down, planted palms flat on the table, and provided him a clear, full view. A necklace with the number ten and a half escaped from between bulging breasts and dangled in midair. Maggie thought how horrifying it’d be if every girl wore a numeric rating, realizing hers would be a five, at best.

The girl handed him a note and whispered, “Are we still on for Friday night?”

“You bet.”

“Well, here’s my number just in case you lost it.”

The bottle blonde retreated with long fluid steps, the sway of her hips enough to tempt any man. Maggie wished her own butt looked that good in jeans. Shaking the notion from her head, she gave attention back to her new student.

He stuffed the note in his shirt pocket as if nothing had happened. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Okay, here are some test cards.” Maggie shoved them toward him. “I’ll quiz you on them next Monday.”

He shuffled through the deck, then arranged them in a neat stack with the same enthusiasm as the card with Blondie’s phone number.

Another young woman headed their way from across the room, boobs jiggling, bleached curls bouncing with each step. Maggie expected her to throw hands in the air and lead a cheer.

“Hey, Carla,” he said.

Miss Perky Perfect tossed her hair and beamed at him. “After the other night, I expected to hear from you.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy. You know, practice, studying.” He gestured toward Maggie, then lowered his voice. “I promise I’ll call you later.”

She eyed Maggie with a what’s-he-doing-with-you glare and walked away.

God, what’s with all these blondes and their doubleD dumplings? Maggie rounded her shoulders and tried to disappear into her B-cups. From the looks of both girls, Jace preferred cookie-cutter Barbies.

Ann Everett's Books