 by Melanie Moreland.jpg)
Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Mila Morrison prefers the silent company of her keyboard to that of people. She lives vicariously through the characters she creates.
Nicholas Scott only feels comfortable when he’s playing the role of someone else. He would rather be anyone but himself.
Both of them are hiding, too afraid to let anyone in.
Their attraction is unscripted, as is the bond that forms between them.
When the world around them threatens to tear them apart, are they strong enough to make the final scene?
Or will their affair end up on the cutting room floor?
It is time for the next generation of BAM
Series of interconnected standalones based on the Vested Interest world
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
MILA
I huffed out a long breath and pushed my hair back off my face. I glanced around, moving things on my desk, finally spying a hair tie. I frowned at the computer screen, trying to come up with another word.
Apparently, snarl was a word I used too often in my books, and my editor, Lisa, made snarky comments about it in her notes. I had three other snarly bits, so I knew I had to start changing it up.
I pursed my lips and took a sip of coffee, then made a face. It was cold.
I had just made it, hadn’t I?
A quick peek at my phone made me shake my head. I had brewed it two hours ago. Then I grinned. And written over two thousand words on the one sip I had taken.
Not bad.
“Ah.” I grinned. “Growled. I like growly men.” My grin stayed on my face as I finished the paragraph.
My mom often accused my dad of growling. He’d protest and tell her she was wrong, but she wasn’t. When he got annoyed when one of us wasn’t listening, or some man stared at me, my sister, or God forbid, my mother, for too long, growls did escape his mouth.
My mom thought it was hot. Sammy and I always laughed. Sammy once said if a man couldn’t withstand my dad’s glare, he’d never survive this family.
She was right.
Of course, far more men looked at Sammy than me. She was gorgeous. Effervescent and funny. She looked like our mom, except her eyes were dark.
I looked like—well, I had no idea. I was adopted. Taken from a cold, scary apartment and a strung-out, drug-addicted mother who kept forgetting I existed. I had no recollection of what she looked like, except her hair was dark. Mine was honey-colored like my adoptive mom’s, and oddly enough, my eyes were similar to hers as well—a golden brown with a dark circle around the iris. I was short and somewhat curvy, far more interested in writing and reading books than spending too much time on the treadmill. I did it every day, but I hated it. I knew if I didn’t, my backside would be a balloon, never mind the fact that I would have to cut back on my snack of choice—cashews. I could eat them all day. I vaguely remembered my birth mother being taller and skinny. So I had no idea who I took after.
The day I met Liv and Van was my first, real, clear memory of my childhood that made me smile. Liv was so pretty and kind. She smelled good, her voice soft, and she let me sit on her lap and she held me. I hadn’t been touched in so long except in anger that the feel of her loving embrace was addictive. I became attached immediately, and when they left, I recalled sobbing that the pretty lady was gone. But she returned again and again, and then she took me home with her.
Van was massive. He towered over me, his size frightening. But the pretty lady liked him and he gave me a cookie, so I decided he had to be okay. I had never known a man in my life. It had only been my mother in the apartment with me. The only time I heard a man’s voice was when I was locked in the closet and someone else was there for a while.
I always hated it when she forgot to unlock the door.
But Van was gentle and kind. He had a wide smile and I wanted to get closer to him, but I was too afraid. When they took me home, I had an instant family. A brother named Reed and a sister named Samantha, but whom everyone called Sammy or Mouse. She shortened my name from Amelia to Mila. I loved her instantly. I liked Reed, even though he was loud at times. He turned into the best big brother a girl could ever ask for. Patient and sweet, protective and kind. He stood up for me everywhere, often getting into trouble for doing so. But he never backed down. I loved him fiercely, and we were very close now.
I adored Liv. I’d remained leery of Van, although he was nothing but kind and he called me “Pumpkin.” It changed one day, though, when we were watching a movie as a family, and Van snuggled with Sammy. It fascinated me, seeing him cuddle her. She looked so happy with him. When she moved, I held out my arms, and Van took me onto his lap, wrapping me in a blanket the same way he did for Sammy. He held me tight, his broad chest the perfect spot to snuggle. I had never felt as safe as I did in that instant. All my fears faded away in his gentle embrace.