Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“I came, didn’t I?” I snap back, because I don’t want to answer the question. Did he hurt me? Not my body. But my heart is another story.
“Open the door,” he demands, and I have to fight myself not to do as I’m told.
“You’re not the boss of me.” I sound like a child stomping my foot, but I don’t care.
He laughs. Actually laughs!
“I’ll always be the boss of you,” I hear him say, and then there’s silence.
* * *
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Hungry For More
Sage Carter has spent her whole life surrounded by her family that treats her like a child. When she finally decides to live life on her own, it’s still under the shelter of her brother's apartment. But the day before Thanksgiving, his business partner comes to visit and just so happens to find her in the kitchen…in her underwear. Can she make it through the holiday without dying of embarrassment? Or will the incident be the spark that lights the fire from within?
Jensen Powell has done things in his own way on his own timeline. When he’s forced to go home with his business partner for Thanksgiving, he doesn’t expect to find a curvy bombshell waiting for him. One look and she belongs to him, if only she’ll give in. He hasn’t had a reason to be thankful until now, and he’s making the most of it.
Warning: This Turkey Day romance is stuffed full of all your favorites. It’s warm and sweet with all the guilty pleasures you’re after. Go ahead and get second helpings. Nobody is looking.
To all the women out there cooking their asses off…
we thank you.
Chapter One
SAGE
I shake the white knitted sweater dress I pulled from the back of my closet and try to get the wrinkles out of it. I love this dress, and with fall here and a nice breeze in the air, I can finally wear it again. Not to mention everything else I own has become a little snug over the last few months.
No one tells you when you move out of your parents’ house that having the freedom of your own space and kitchen might make you go a little overboard. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but when there’s no one else around to eat what I’ve cooked I end up eating it all myself. If my brother is around, I know he’ll eat it all himself, but he’s hardly ever home. I share this massive penthouse with him, but he’s a true workaholic and part of the reason I agreed to move in here.
It’s like living alone most of the time and it’s wonderful. Not because I don’t love my brother, because I do, but I’ve been ready to spread my wings for a while now. I’m beyond ready to step out into the world and live my own life. One event years ago and I’ve been labeled the girl made of glass.
I’m treated as if at any moment I’ll break or something will harm me.
I turn in the mirror and peer over my shoulder to the scar on my back; most of the time I forget about it. That whole day is still a blur in my mind. A guy who I thought was my friend was telling everyone that he slept with me. I remember I confronted him about it, but after that the rest is blank. It’s like none of it happened, but the scar says otherwise, just like the years that followed. Life changed for me and my family from that point on.
They told me he went nuts and that after I confronted him, I turned to leave and he lunged at me. The knife entered my back and barely missed my spine before puncturing my lung. All I remember is waking up in a hospital bed a few days later. It hurt to take each breath and sometimes I woke up fighting to breathe. I don’t remember the attack, but it’s like my mind still likes to remind me that it happened.
It was hard to believe to begin with because Jimmy was my friend. It took me a while to believe what everyone was saying, but then they showed me the journals with him rambling about a life he thought we had together. There were also thousands of pictures he’d taken of me. But without the memory of the attack, I don’t feel anger when I think of him. When the memory of him pops up, I’m just sad knowing he’s locked away in a mental hospital. His future changed that day, too.
What I think back on the most is the first day he entered our private high school. He looked so alone as all of us had gone to school together since we were little. No one paid him any attention, but I chose to sit next to him and ask him to be my lab partner.