Tag Archives: #Trustissues

#sundaySnippet New in #audiobooks #romcom #NYCsocialitesseries

So the little snippet from today’s selection is from my NEW YORK SOCIALITES series, IT’S A TRUST THING, which was just released on APPLE AUDIO!

Nell Newbery has trust issues.

It’s hard to trust when you’re the daughter of a fallen financial scion who bilked people out of billions. Nell’s done everything in her power to keep away from men who see her as their ticket to fortune and fame. All she wants to do is run her ultra-successful business, HELPFUL HUNKS, in peace. But it wouldn’t hurt to find a guy who doesn’t know a thing about her father’s felonious past; one she can give her heart to and trust it won’t come back to her battered, bruised, and broken.

Is Charlie Churchill that guy? On the surface he seems perfect, all polished manners and quiet mirth. Nell’s convinced he knows nothing about her, other than she likes superhero movies and views junk food as a food group.

Can she trust him to be what he appears to be? Or is he just pretending?

For Nell, trust is everything in life…and in love.

SNIPPET…

That old expression if you want something done, give it to a busy person describes my life to perfection.

I was already late for the two-hour lecture I’d agreed to give at Columbia Business School. And I say agreed with my tongue in my cheek.

When Dean Arnold Dietrichson, an old friend of my mother’s from her cotillion days, emailed and asked me to fill in for a professor who’d requested time off to visit a sick parent, I ignored the missive. And the two follow-ups he’d then sent. When he called me directly, I couldn’t come up with an excuse fast or truthful enough to squeak out of it. Public speaking is the last in a long laundry list of things I never want to do. Having my fingernails removed one by one without anesthesia and shaving my head supersede public speaking, so that tells you how much I didn’t want to do what I was about to do.

A scheduling issue had disrupted my afternoon and I found myself two men short for a moving job I’d booked weeks ago for an extremely influential client. It took me two and a half hours, seven pleading phone calls, the promise of an extra day off, plus time and half for the two guys who finally agreed to come in.  I toyed with the idea to add sexual favors to the asking price if no one agreed.

That would have been an empty promise, but desperate times…you know?

My business, Helpful Hunks, rents gorgeous twenty and thirty-something between-jobs male actors and models by the hour to do all the things you can’t—or don’t want to—do.

Are you a woman living on your own and need shelving put up but don’t know the business end of a hammer from a screwdriver? Call me. Are you relocating from one small New York apartment to another and don’t want to pay the exorbitant cost a commercial moving business charges to move the meager stuff you own? Check out my website. Need heavy furniture rearranged? Boxes brought in from storage? Someone to help relocate mom’s belongings from her home to her new assisted care facility? Send me an email.

The idea for the business came to me in college. I was my first client. At a spit above five foot, and with a mother residing in a psych facility and a father who was a guest of the state, I had no one to help me lug all my stuff into the dorm room I’d be living in for the next four years.

When a group of upperclassmen who were involved in a project offered to help me in order to gain service points for their frat house, I readily agreed. Flirty, fit, and hunky-hot, the guys got all my crap moved in one one-hundredth of the time it would have taken me on my own. While I watched them heft and heave my trunks, luggage, books, and bed linens, a little idea wormed its way into my entrepreneurial brain.

Despite my father’s mortifying public trial and his subsequent incarceration, Dennison Newbery’s business acumen-laced DNA flowed through me.

Before sophomore year began, I’d already hired a few classmates over the summer break to aid anyone who needed help moving into dorms and student housing. For a nominal fee, of course. My profits that year paid for the next two years of my education.

Business school, a business loan, and a solid marketing plan after I graduated, and here I was.

And you can listen to a selection here: AUDIO

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#sundaysnippet from THE NEW YORK SOCIALITES series #NYCromance #romcom

Today’s little something extra comes from IT’S A TRUST THING, book 1 in the NEW YORK SOCIALITES SERIES.

Nell Newbery has trust issues. It’s hard to trust when you’re the daughter of a fallen financial scion who bilked people out of billions. Nell’s done everything in her power to keep away from men who see her as their ticket to fortune and fame. All she wants to do is run her ultra-successful business, HELPFUL HUNKS, in peace.

But it wouldn’t hurt to find a guy who doesn’t know a thing about her father’s felonious past; one she can give her heart to and trust it won’t come back to her battered, bruised, and broken.

Is Charlie Churchill that guy? On the surface he seems perfect, all polished manners and quiet mirth. Nell’s convinced he knows nothing about her, other than she likes superhero movies and views junk food as a food group.

Can she trust him to be what he appears to be? Or is he just pretending?

For Nell, trust is everything in life…and in love.

ANd since it’s pumpkin spice time here in the US….enjoy….

“Let’s take dessert outside and sit. It’s not full-on dark yet,” he suggested while filling a tray with dessert plates, cups, and utensils.

A girl could get used to being waited on like this. Charlie was a much better host than I’d ever been, and that was the simple truth.

A few minutes later we were each in one of the lounge chaises I’d spotted earlier. Twilight was darkening the sky and the horizon danced with stripes of bright orange and red. The avenues outlining Central Park were lit and bright, the streetlights sparkling around the trees. 

“If you’re cold I’ve got throw blankets in the storage cabinet,” Charlie said as he handed me a teacup.

“This’ll keep me warm.” I took a sip and sighed. “I love a cup of tea in the evening.”

“Even though you drink coffee? Most people choose one or the other.”

“I seem to remember you with a coffee mug in your hand in the diner, Professor, so…” I waved my free hand.

He laughed and settled back, his long legs spread out before him on the chaise, crossed at the ankles.

I’d slipped off my flats and tucked my feet under my legs.

“It’s nice out here,” I said, glancing at the city beyond the railing. “We’re high enough up the traffic sounds aren’t annoying; it’s private, without nosy neighbors right on top of you; and you’re buffered from the wind. If I open a window at my place, the wind shear off the Hudson River can be like a cyclone on some days.”

Charlie sipped his tea as his gaze followed mine, and nodded. “The difference between a park view and a water one. I love looking out over the tree line, especially in spring and fall.”

“Two opposite seasons. Kinda like foliage birth and death.”

He turned his attention to me. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I enjoy watching the trees come into bloom, and I like watching them turn color.”

“I like that, too. Fall is my favorite time of year. The air is crisp, with a tiny bite to it; you can start wearing sweaters and boots. Plus,” I grinned at him, “pumpkin spice.”

A theatrical grown blew from him. “Oh, good Lord, are you one of those who loves pumpkin spice flavored everything? Coffee? Donuts? Tea? I even saw a pumpkin spice-flavored marshmallow cereal in the market last fall. People were buying it by the case. That was a bit much.” He shook his head, a ghost of a grin on his lips.

“Never underestimate the influential power familiar branding has on advertising to the consumer,” I said.

Charlie’s chuckle floated in the air next to me.

“That should be the topic of your next lecture.”

“What? Pumpkin spice?” I asked, cocking my head at him with what I hoped was a serious expression on my face.

Laughter danced in his eyes. “The class would most likely all be able to relate to that topic, but, no. Has Dean Dietrichson asked you to speak again?”

“I got an email yesterday asking me if I could sub again this Wednesday. Seems Dr. Chang’s mom still isn’t doing well. I haven’t replied to him yet.”

As I sipped my tea he silently regarded me. “What?”

“Would you like a little unsolicited advice?”

“If I said no would you give it anyway?”

“No. I’d respect your request,” he answered.

And right there was the reason he was different from every other man I’d ever known.

“You think I should do it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve told you how much chatter there was about your lecture from those who sat in on it. How enlightening the class viewed your insights. Several times I heard what a wonderfully natural speaker you are. That’s a gift, Nell, that ability to connect to a group of strangers and have them not only be comfortable with, and open to, what you’re teaching, but engaged as well. A true gift.”

I can’t explain why his words meant so much to me, but they did. Validation as a savvy business owner is something I’ve strived for. I’ve struggled to be respected and successful on my own, through my own deeds and actions, and not simply because someone’s DNA coursed through my system. I’d had two bank managers deny my start-up business loan because they worried my father’s behavior had been passed down to me.

How ridiculous is that? The sins of the father aside, how truly ridiculous?

I took another sip of my tea and considered Charlie’s words.

“I have to admit, it was…fun, speaking to them. Not nearly as stressful as I’d imagined it would be.”

He nodded.

“And it was kinda cool that they all”—I flipped my free hand in the air again—“valued the points I was trying to make.”

“I’d say you made those points, not tried.”

I bit down on the corner of my mouth and stared back out at the quickly darkening horizon. “I’ll email him back when I get home,” I said. “But I need to come up with a better topic than the benefits of pumpkin spice branding.”

His rich, deep laughter sent a rivulet of pleasure down my spine.

And catch up on all the NY Socialites before Book 4 – INFLUENCE – drops in 2023

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#SundaySnippet 3.21.2021

Recently, my indie published RomCom IT’S A TRUST THING went wide, meaning it’s now available across all digital devices. Here’s the link : IATT.

Today’s snippet is from the book.

A few “’Night, professors,” reached my ears and when I lifted my gaze to the entranceway, Charlie was standing there again, much the way he’d been before the class started: one shoulder relaxed against the doorjamb, his briefcase in one hand, his other in his pants pocket.
Lord, the man could have popped off the cover of a fashionable menswear magazine. No one should look that delectable in real life.
When the last of the students exited, he entered. My pulse rate tripled the closer he came. With a smile I can only describe as irresistible and devastatingly sensual, he leaned down once he reached the podium, those lips twitching at the corners, and said, “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s smitten with you.”
And then he pressed that gorgeous mouth right to mine.
I inhaled him as he smiled against my lips, and just like that, without a word or a notion of a warning, my heart turned over.
Was it possible to fall in love in an instant? To know the person you were with was the one; the true one? The one meant for you, destined to be yours for eternity?
In the time it took me to consider how dumb it all sounded in this day and age, I countered with the ferocity of the emotions coursing through me.
Was this love? Was this what the poets clamored on about and romance writers swore truly did exist?
I didn’t have an answer, since I’d never felt this way before. No other man had ever caused such a commotion and chaos inside my mind and heart as this one did.
The thought was terrifying, enlightening, and hopeful all at once.
But even if what I was experiencing was love it didn’t mean Charlie felt the same. Smitten wasn’t exactly an I’ll love you forevermore declaration, maybe more just a pronouncement of intent. We’d gotten past my third date rule, so the question of exploring one another on a more intimate basis was definitely on the table.
But sex didn’t equate with love, this I knew for fact.
No, my feelings were my own and since they were new and raw and unfamiliar, I didn’t want them revealed, so when he pulled back from the kiss I reverted to type.
“Are you sure you don’t teach English Lit? Because ‘smitten’ simply screams Jane Austen.”
His grin grew to a wicked cheek-wide smirk that had my insides going bonkers again.
“They’re considered classics for a reason,” he said as he reached over and grabbed my briefcase. “Come on. I’m hungry and I’ve been looking forward all day to spending some time alone with you.”
Awww. Forget flutter. My tummy muscles moved into disco dance mode.
Intrigued? I hope so. Heehee

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