HELL ON HEELS by Anne Jolin
Genre: Women's Fiction Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 26, 2016
— SYNOPSIS —
I use people. Not in a malicious way, but in the way an addict abuses their substance of choice. People are my vice—men specifically. I crave the emotional high they give me with a unique and reckless disregard for my own well-being—eagerly floating into an unsustainable euphoria, knowing full well that after every high comes an equal, if not more powerful, plummet into a devastating abyss. But like every junkie, I crawl willingly back into the arms of my demons.
Oh, the price we pay to feel loved. We’d all sell our souls to the devil himself for that. Perhaps I have already.
They say that acknowledging that you have a problem is one of the first steps to recovery. Well, in that case, my name is Charleston Smith and I have a fucking problem.
— PURCHASE —
✯✯✯ NOW LIVE! ✯✯✯
— EXCERPT —“I’m ruined.” Kevin pouted, plopping down into one of the two patterned high-back chairs in front of my desk.
Fishing my cellphone out, I dropped my purse into the bottom drawer of the massive and incredibly overpriced desk, and placed the palms of my hands onto its distressed white surface.
“He’s so hot,” Kevin continued without delay. “I mean, I follow him on Instagram, but wow-ee! I want little blonde Abercrombie babies with him,” he rattled on, waving his hands in the air. “And Man Bun is like yum with a shot of dangerous, like you just know he’d wake up your neighbours. I’d like to call him Daddy—”
“Jesus.” I shook my head.
Kevin stirred, pulling his perfectly crafted eyebrows together. “What’s he doing here anyways? Are we planning one of his parties?”
Beau Callaway was notoriously known for hosting some of the best campaign parties.
“No. He’s expressed interest in sponsoring the Gala.”
Uncrossing his legs, Kevin’s eyes softened as he leaned forward. “The Gala is this Saturday. Can we manage another sponsor this late in the game?”
The emotions on my face war—they often did this close to the gala—and he noticed. Kevin was as perceptive as he was fabulous.
“Right then. I’ll make it work.” He stood. “Want me to fetch the dream boat for you, boss?”
I nodded. “Please.”
Without another word, he sashayed out the door and my nerves filled up the space he left behind.
I was nervous. Men in general made me nervous until I knew my way around them, but having someone like Beau in my space and here, regarding the gala no less, made me edgy.
I didn’t often mix business with pleasure, as I was messy with one and not the other. Though it’d been nearly three months since my last duet with a man and I was jonesing for a high this close to the gala.
The gala that honoured the memory of Henry.
My addiction prickled at the back of my neck.
— ABOUT THE AUTHOR: ANNE JOLIN —
I was born and raised in Ladner, a small farm town just outside Vancouver, Canada. I grew up riding horses, shooting guns, and driving in trucks.
I never expected to be an author. A massage therapist? Yes. Take over the family construction company? Yes. But an author? No. Writing was something that snuck up on me and rooted itself into my life. It was beautiful to discover that love, and I’m truly grateful to say I’ve found my passion.
Since I’ve always been a creative person, it feels amazing to harness all of that energy and use it to tell a story I love. I enjoy incorporating bits of my real life into the stories I write. What parts are true? Hah. I’ll never tell—what would be the fun in that?
If I could leave y’all with one thing, it’s that life’s far too short to not live it out loud. Drown in your passions, hold on tight to the things that inspire you, and chase your dreams relentlessly. I can promise you without a doubt that you won’t regret it. I know I don’t.