by Lisa Suzanne
I don’t know how long we kiss like that as we seal our commitment to one another, but it’s getting dark. It’s harder to see the water below us now, which makes the bridge somehow a whole lot less scary to me.
We finally break apart when some kids stomp by us, throwing us both off balance again.
“I love you,” he whispers to me.
“I love you, too.”
“Can we get the fuck off this bridge now?” he asks, and I laugh.
I take his hand in mine. We’re a team now, and he needs me to take the lead in this moment. He’s clearly terrified, and while I am, too, I know he did this for me. I need him to know that I won’t ever let him fall, either, because I love him. So, I lead him confidently and encouragingly all the way across the bridge to the other side.
That’s what you do when you love someone. You take risks. You put yourself out there. You hold his hand and take the lead when he’s facing his biggest fear just to prove to you how much he loves you.
COURTING SANDY EGGO
posted by Courtney Sanders
I SAID YES
You all knew before me! Carter made me leave my phone at the hotel, and now I know it was because he didn’t want me to see any messages before he had the chance to ask me to marry him. He told me it was because he didn’t want me to drop it over the side of the bridge.
To be honest, the bridge was actually pretty awesome. There’s beautiful scenery all around, and it’ll forever be special to us for so many other reasons.
Thank you to all of you who have sent notes of congratulations. I appreciate all of you and I will do my best to respond to everyone, but for now, I’m going to enjoy my engagement road trip with my fiancé. Our trip actually ends in Vegas, and I’ve heard they have some nice little chapels out there…
Love definitely found me when I wasn’t looking for it. When I first met Carter, the last thing I was looking for was love—especially when I was looking at him.
His abs made a good impression on me, but that was about it. Liam walked back into my life for half a second and I was almost ready to give it another go with him, but things didn’t work out. I was upset, but I know now that it all happened for a reason.
I’ve never been so happy.
I’ve mentioned the sex. With Carter, it’s the best—the best ever—but my relationship with Carter has turned into so much more than sex.
He gets me, really understands me in a way no one else ever has. We have friendship and mutual respect. We have passion. We have support and shared interests. He writes for my blog, and I volunteer for his charities. We have communication, something we didn’t always have, but we do now, and we realize its importance more than ever.
We’re done with the games. We’re done baiting each other into dates for ulterior motives, and that just leaves us with a whole lot of love.
THE END
* * *
Now that Courtney and Carter are engaged, Emme—who doesn’t want to get married—is thrust into the world of wedding planning. After denying Axel’s proposal, she acted like everything was fine…but it’s not. She’s bent on maintaining her lifestyle, but he wants a commitment. What do you do when one person wants more and the other doesn’t?
Pre-Order Stalemate, coming March 31 to Kindles everywhere: http://amzn.to/2kCHiND
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Thanks for reading!
XOXO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The list of people to thank becomes longer with every book I publish, but the one person who has encouraged me, supported me, and been there to talk about everything from Fast Fives to character development for every one of my books is my husband. Without his hard work, I wouldn’t be able to stay home with the baby and work as a full-time author. So thank you, Matt, for your hard work, your sacrifices, your support, and your love. Thank you to Mason for being the sweetest little boy in the whole world and for making me the luckiest mom ever.
Thank you to Emily from Social Butterfly PR. When you told me to just write because you’ve got the rest of it, I knew I put my trust in the right person.
Thank you to Jessica for the honest talks, the cover feedback, and making me feel like I have a real friend who gets it.
Thank you to Caitlin from Editing by C. Marie for polishing my words. You did a beautiful job!
Thank you to Jen for always being one of my first readers and for helping me make cover decisions.
Thank you to the lovely ladies of Team LS and in particular my Beta Readers and ARC Review Team: Jen, Kelly, Diane, Wendy, April, Sue, Anna, Johnnie-Marie, Megan, Kirsty, Amber, Nikki, Becky, Nickiann, Teresa, Tami, Shernelle, Melissa, Jen, Jennifer, Judy, Iwona, Kim, Susan, Adeline, Doris, Andi, Ashley, Christina, Andrea, and Revva.
Thank you to the bloggers who spend countless hours promoting reading, reviewing, and talking books. Your work is appreciated more than you know.
Thank you to the reader. I always feel honored that you chose my work to spend your time with. I hope you loved the world I created with Clickbait, and I’d love if you left a review wherever you purchased your copy. I hope you’ll watch for Emme and Axel’s story coming sooner than you think…
XOXO,
Lisa Suzanne
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lisa Suzanne is a romance author who resides in Arizona with her husband and baby boy. She’s a former high school English teacher and college composition instructor. When she's not cuddling baby Mason, she can be found working on her latest book or watching reruns of Friends.
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BOOKS BY LISA SUZANNE
CLICKBAIT
STALEMATE (coming March 31)
CONFLICTED
NOT JUST ANOTHER ROMANCE NOVEL
THE VINTAGE SERIES BOX SET
VINTAGE VOLUME ONE
VINTAGE VOLUME TWO
THE HE FEELS TRILOGY BOX SET
HOW HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 1)
WHAT HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 2)
SINCE HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 3)
SEPARATION ANXIETY
SIDE EFFECTS
SECOND OPINION
Flip the page to read the beginning of Not Just Another Romance Novel, a romantic comedy about all your favorite types of book boyfriends!
NOT JUST ANOTHER ROMANCE NOVEL
© 2015 Lisa Suzanne
1
His thunder stick pounded ferociously into her delicate flower.
“Thunder stick?” I muttered aloud to myself.
I’d seen some interesting terms over the years, but “thunder stick” had to be one of the dumbest ones I’d seen used to describe a man’s penis. I supposed it sounded better than “meat popsicle” or, my personal favorite, “fuck rod.”
I set my Kindle on my nightstand. I was in the middle of reading a sex scene, but the stick entering the flower managed to kill the mood.
I stood and headed toward my kitchen for a snack as I pondered books.
I had a top ten book boyfriend list, which of course changed (often) depending on what I was reading. I had a collection of signed bookmarks. I had a bunch of signed paperbacks I never opened, preserving the beautiful words and the new book smell with my favorite authors’ signatures inside.
But what I didn’t have was a real, actual, living leading man.
I needed some excitement to spice up my life. I needed an adventure like the ones I’d been reading about in romance
novels since I’d first stolen The Flame and the Flower from my mom’s closet shelf when I was twelve.
I needed a boyfriend who could pound his thunder stick into my delicate flower. It was getting a little dusty down there. There may have been a cobweb situation happening.
In addition to the woes of my love life, I also needed to figure out a research topic for my master’s thesis.
I was less than a year away from my master’s degree in Psychology. I just needed a few more classes, including the one class I’d been dreading since I first filled out my student application: Master’s Thesis Research.
I had to generate a topic I’d research over the next few months. I’d need to complete field studies. In April, I would have to defend my paper to a panel of professors who had the power to negate my two years of post-graduate work in Psychology. If they hated my project, I was screwed. I’d end up on deep fryers at a fast food joint instead of counseling couples whose marriages were in trouble.
I thought about the thunder stick book still lighting up my Kindle in my bedroom. If only I could write about romance novels. Now there was an area where I was a true expert.
A knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts.
I glanced through the peephole and found my best friend in the world, Scott Redland, and I opened the door.
“I’m looking for a treasure. Mind if I take a look at your chest?”
I burst out laughing, and then Scott held up a six-pack of Stella Artois bottles—my favorite beer. I grinned and opened my door wider.
“Are you religious? Because you’re the answer to all my prayers.”
Scott laughed as he walked past me. “I win tonight.”
I nodded in agreement. His cheesy pick-up line outplayed mine. “What’s the occasion?”
“Big Brother starts in fifteen minutes.”
I giggled, glancing over at the clock on my oven. Scott claimed to hate the reality show, yet we spent the entire hour of the broadcast psychoanalyzing every “character.”
But really, he loved the drama. In any event, it was a good excuse to get together with my friend to practice our burgeoning analytical skills.
“Who got sent home last time?” he asked, setting the six-pack down on the counter.
“Jasmine was evicted.” I stressed my word to encourage him to use the correct show terminology—a constant uphill battle.
Scott narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. You want a beer?” He grabbed the bottle opener from his keychain and popped the top off of one before he took a long gulp.
I nodded.
He popped the top off of another one and grinned as he handed it to me. “Then lose the attitude.”
I giggled, and we settled into my couch to analyze our favorite (but Scott’s non-favorite) show.
2
“Piper, have you figured out your topic?”
I glanced over at Scott, and then my eyes moved back to the window. I studied the rain as it fell harder than I’d seen in a long time.
Scott and I had met a year earlier when we started the master’s program together at San Diego State University. We, along with two other students, had been assigned to the same mentor professor, Dr. Prestbury. That threw the four of us together pretty much all the time.
Because of it, I’d grown to label them as three of my closest friends, but Scott had become my best friend over the last year. We laughed together, we watched old movies and reality television while we chilled on my couch, and we went out to dinner nearly every night of the week. Our relationship had never been strained by sexual tension, which I appreciated. I loved having a guy friend who was nothing more than a friend.
Scott was probably the smartest person I knew. He wanted to teach high school or college level Psych classes once he finished his degree, and I could just imagine how perfect he’d be in front of a classroom of students eager to learn.
I took a sip of my Starbucks while we waited for Shannon and Austin to join us. We had a big test the next day in Clinical Psychology, so we planned a long study session.
“I don’t know yet. You?”
“Social effects of gay marriage on children.” His answer was immediate and assured. “Do you have any ideas at all?”
I shrugged. “Sort of. You know I want to work with married couples, so I’m thinking something about love. Happily ever after. I haven’t worked out the details yet.”
Scott laughed, his blue eyes hidden behind black frames bright with merriment.
“What?”
He ran a hand through his messy dark blond hair, flustered at the glare I pinned on him. He was kind of an adorable nerd sometimes.
“You read too many romance novels, that’s all.”
“No shit,” I muttered just as Shannon and Austin walked through the door.
Austin shook the rain from his nearly black hair as he glanced around Starbucks. When his chocolate eyes landed on me, a wide grin graced his face.
He was really too handsome for words…but he was also way too metrosexual for me.
Shannon and Austin placed their orders before joining us, and then we got to work.
After our study session, we chatted about thesis topics.
Shannon, who wanted to work with kids, planned to research academic motivation. Austin, specializing in Sports Psychology, focused his research on athletic goal-setting.
Everyone had their specialty sorted except for me.
“We are going to figure yours out before we leave,” Shannon announced, flipping her long, wavy blonde hair behind her shoulder. It always amazed me when she looked just perfect despite the inclement weather. Meanwhile my hair was a frizzy, crumpled mess.
“What about something with divorce rates?” Austin asked. He looked at me like he was trying to brand me to my seat.
Good Lord, Scott was right. I had been reading far too many romance novels if I felt the heat from Austin’s eyes.
“I’d rather research something about successful marriages.” I picked absently at the corner of my well-worn textbook.
“Positive effects on the children of parents who attend regular counseling?” Shannon asked.
She was the child expert, not me. I shook my head.
“You know what?” I asked, reaching into my purse and pulling out my Kindle. I switched it on. “I’m just going to read for a bit while you all flesh this topic out for me.”
All three of my friends groaned at me.
“What about something with romance novels?” Scott asked.
“Like how big a man’s cock has to be in order to—”
“Shannon!” I practically yelled, garnering looks from the tables nearby. I blushed and set down my Kindle while Scott and Austin laughed.
“Can you do some sort of plot structure thing?” Scott asked. He was always so academic. It was one of the things I loved about him, but analyzing literature sounded worse than watching a documentary on how grass grows.
I must’ve flinched at Scott’s suggestion, because Austin suggested another one. “Long-term health effects of reading romance novels?”
I shook my head, and then my friends started firing off ideas at me.
“Do women who read romance novels have better sex lives than those who don’t?”
“Can reading romance novels save marriages?”
“Do women who are pregnant while they read romance novels have kids who are more sexually active later in life?”
“Do romance authors have amazing sex lives?”
“Do you still have to tip if you bang the pizza delivery guy?”
“That’s not romance,” I said, addressing Shannon’s suggestion. “That’s porn. And a little off-topic.”
After two hours of exhausting every possibility—and an awful lot of laughing—Scott nearly yelled in triumph. “I’ve got it!”
Three sets of eyes turned toward him expectantly.
“How romance novels create unrealistic expectations of modern men.”
I stared at Scott for
a minute. All of us did.
“That’s not bad,” Austin finally said, breaking the silence that had descended on our table.
Truth be told, it wasn’t bad at all.
Truth be told, I could’ve kissed Scott.
Instead, I gave him a high-five. That was sort of our thing. That and the pick-up lines.
This was perfect! I was in awe that Scott had managed to combine my passion for reading with my future career.
And I couldn’t wait to get started on my research.
* * *
Later that night, the rain had stopped and I was still thinking about my topic as I paced around my apartment. Scott had the right idea, but it needed some tweaking.
Somewhere between coffee and note cards about Piaget and hippocampus, my actual field research began to take shape in my mind.
I needed a question to guide my research, and I had it: How does the modern day romance novel leading man create unrealistic expectations for a prolonged adult relationship?
But the underlying question was a little different.
Which stereotypical romantic male hero could lead me to my happy ending?
I had both my thesis and a personal project…something I’d call a “Social Experiment.”
I would date every stereotype in the books. I’d give them all a shot to see if a real life happy ending just like I read about was actually possible.
Billionaires, bad boys, rock stars, athletes, a dominant, bikers in motorcycle clubs, my teacher, and…my stepbrother?
I gagged a little at the thought, but those books were all the rage.