The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  None of that matters because there are people out there who like what I write. They get me. So I’m gonna keep going.

  But the sex scenes man. I have a lot of ideas for the upcoming Turning Series because that’s ménage stuff. I’ve only done one ménage book. But bitches, I have written like thirty hetero-couple books and each one of them has between three and five sex scenes. And at least one of them has to be a sex scene that is not about the sex. It has to be about the feels. Let me tell you, it’s not easy to come up with Spencer fucking Veronica with paint in every book. Or Ford and Ashleigh having the “perfect date” in Vegas. Or James and Harper doing it in a bathroom in Death Valley while Sasha eats gummy worms out in that blazing hot Hummer.

  It’s takes a lot of imagination to come up with something completely different for each book and even though I probably could write the same sex scene over and over again and people would still buy my books, I won’t. Because I’d disappoint you guys and I don’t want to do that. Even if it means some people won’t get it and some people will make stupid assumptions about my motivations, I only have one motivation.

  Tell a good story.

  There are plenty of books out there that don’t tell a good story and still have great sex scenes. Those authors can still sell a ton of books and I’m all for that. But that’s not why I write. I write because I have a story I want to share with you. I write because the only opinion about my story that matters is my own.

  Writing, as a profession, as a way to pay bills and meet your basic needs, is very difficult. And I’m not talking about the competition or the marketing. I’m talking about the discipline it takes to actually finish, publish, and then do it all over again, and again, and again.

  I see so many posts about author burn-out. They write too much, they hate marketing, they have no time for anything else. And if they fall behind on any of these things, people forget about them and move on to find another favorite author.

  It’s a valid concern. And if authors get burned out on telling stories there’s really nothing you can do about that. You need a pretty good imagination to keep going as a writer and that imagination has to be limitless.

  I work every day. Some days, like today, I will work sixteen hours, easy. I have to write this EOBS, I have to make links for the back of my eBooks for each distributor and upload files, I have a cover reveal for Taking Turns tomorrow so I need a blog post and I have to do all kinds of last minute things to my Rafflecopter giveaway. I have a media kit to send to Giselle for the Match blitz next week, I have to format my Mr. Match paperback and upload that to Createspace so I can order copies and fulfill the 100+ orders I took in October for signed Mister books. I have a lot of shit on my list today that has nothing at all to do with actual writing.

  And yeah, that’s hard. But the one thing that keeps me going is the story. The end, in fact. There is no rush like getting to the end of your book and writing that last line, knowing it is perfect. Maybe there’s lots of imperfect things that come before that last line—maybe there’s twenty typos or autocorrect mistakes you didn’t catch or a plot hole or two—it doesn’t matter because you have that one thing that keeps you going.

  The End.

  I cannot imagine a time where I get burned out on writing The End.

  But in order to get to the end you have favorite moments inside that story that keep you interested. The butter scene was one for me. So was Ellie’s little “tampon outburst”. And Mac’s scavenger hunt. That scavenger hunt was all the things that make me love a book. So this is the real reason why what people think about the butter scene doesn’t matter to me. It kept me going. It kept me interested and got me to the end.

  In Mr. Romantic it was the way Nolan explained the “sex slap” using horse racing. It was the yellow dress and the yellow rope, and yeah, the ENTIRE rape fantasy scene which kept me going. My favorite chapter in Mr. Romantic is at the end of the fantasy when Nolan realizes what’s driving him. Why he’s the way he is. I love it. I could read that scene over and over again and never get tired.

  In Mr. Corporate is was Victoria Arias. She took a lot of heat for her personality but looking back on Victoria, knowing now that she is the only thing that saved the Misters back on That Night (because she knew Corporate was never guilty—he had a witness), I love every spying moment, every sassy moment, every slapping moment about her. Victoria is the reason I love Mr. Corporate. She is standing in the middle of a world filled with vampires holding a crucifix, telling everyone to get the fuck behind her, she’s got this.

  In Mysterious it was the Del Mar scene. Both the track and the house. I loved the fact that Paxton went out and got strawberries for Cindy, just so they could have a drink together. I loved the fight between Pax and Oliver over his baby sister. I loved Mr. Perfect’s chapter and his stupid dog, Scout.

  In Mr. Match it was the first chapter. And how lucky is that? How many times do you write a book and you get the first chapter perfect? If you haven’t read the Rook & Ronin series it might not seem so perfect, but if you have, it is. And that first chapter, when Oliver is talking about his world, it’s the whole reason I kept going.

  When I got to the “feels” sex scene in Mr. Match I was on the phone with Jana again, complaining about not having anything good in mind. I needed something more than sex at this point in the book and it took me days (days I did not have to spare) to come up with the Gimme more… gimme more… gimme more scene. And when I finished I was completely satisfied.

  Aside from all the sex my books will typically have a pretty twisted plot. When I wrote about Corporate’s little treasure in his book I did it on faith. It felt right to me. How it was going to play a part in the final book never even entered my mind. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

  When I’m writing a series with a mystery running through all five books like it did in the Misters, I typically leave the solution to the mystery for later. And I do this because I like to have a framework that reigns me in. If you’ve read Meet Me In The Dark I talk about this a little in the EOBS. How Merc was in so many of the Dirty, Dark, and Deadly books, as well as the Rook & Ronin books, and how I had to sort of piece his past together using all those other story lines as the constraining framework.

  It’s challenging for sure. But I just believe in the story and go from there.

  So when it finally came time to weave Mr. Corporate’s treasure into the end of Mr. Match, I couldn’t have been happier to look up “lost treasure” on the internet and find the RMS Republic. Which really was carrying gold meant for Russia and really did sink off the coast of Nantucket.

  Insert huge smile here because I had already written in the gold, Nantucket, and the Russians.

  It’s like that little piece of information was just waiting for me to go looking for it and add it to my story.

  I can’t say much more about my writing process without sounding like a freak but this is how these stories come to me. One piece at a time until they add up to something more than I started with. Pieces of a puzzle I didn’t realize I was trying to put together, but which make perfect sense once I’m done. Fate, maybe.

  The Misters took up almost my whole 2016 and I cannot think of a better way to spend ten months of my life. Even though it was stressful and I had to give up quite a few things to stay on track, it was completely one hundred percent worth it.

  Yeah, the competition is hard and the marketing is a time suck. But when it’s all said and done I still have the end.

  And it’s enough. It keeps me going.

  I hope you enjoyed the end. I hope you got the answers you were looking for and if you think I left something out, I really didn’t. It’s in there, you just need to find it and form your own opinion. Not everything should be so cut and dry. I already know I’m going to get a hundred questions about the Smitten Kitten, but I left that out on purpose. Just another bit of fate, Princesses. Fate that fits, but I like the mystery.

  Thank you for reading, thank you
for reviewing, and I’ll see you in the next book.

  Julie

  PS – Sorry for any typos in this EOBS. You know I never edit it. ;)

  Are you ready for the REAL STORY of FIVE & RORY!? Because that’s up next. You might be tempted to skip Five and go right to Mr & Mrs but I’m telling you from one reader to another, you don’t want to do that. You NEED Five’s story to really appreciate what really happens in Mr & Mrs. (Which is THE BEST Happily Ever After book ever, trust me!)

  Mr Five

  MR FIVE

  BY JA HUSS

  By J A Huss

  Edited by RJ Locksley

  Cover Photo: Sara Eirew

  Copyright © 2017 by J. A. Huss

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-978-1-944475-25-3

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  DESCRIPTION

  Princess Rory has been in love with Five Aston her entire life.

  And he’s been in love with her. They are best friends. They are childhood sweethearts. They are the definition of soul mates. Nothing can ever come between them.

  Except Five is over-protective. Five thinks she’s better off without him. Five thinks he’s doing her a favor by keeping her away from the secrets and scandals he’s a part of.

  But she’s got news for him. When a girl has the last name Shrike she doesn’t need a prince. He’s just a bonus along the way to finding her own happily ever after. And if he thinks he’s going to leave her behind again—well, buddy. She’d like to see him try.

  Rory Shrike wants her man back. And not even the genius brain of Mr. Five will stop her.

  Fifty million books ago I promised you a love story about Five and his Princess. This is their story. A standalone book that is also a spin-off of the Rook & Ronin Series and prequel to the Mister Series. You can read it first, you can read it last. It doesn't really matter because it's fucking Five.

  PART ONE

  PART ONE

  THIS IS WHO WE WERE

  Chapter One - Rory

  “Rory!”

  Tera is calling up the stairs for me, eager for us to finish moving out of our apartment for summer break and get on our way. But I’m still staring at my phone. At the text message that just came in.

  “Rory! Do you have that last box or what?”

  “Yes,” I call down to her. But I have a weird, sick feeling in my stomach and it comes out in my voice.

  I stare at the text. Come home, it says. Five is here. I’ve booked you a ticket.

  It’s from my little brother, Oliver, and home is Fort Collins, Colorado. Five is…

  “Hey,” Tera says, appearing at my door. “You OK?”

  I start out with my head nodding but it turns into a shake before I can make a real decision.

  “What’s happened?” Tera asks, coming towards me. “What’s going on?”

  At the same moment, Cliff appears in the door, knocking on the doorjamb. “You ladies ready?”

  He’s tall. Handsome. Muscular. Perfect. Honors student here at Princeton. Newly graduated and on his way to predetermined greatness at Yale Law next fall. We’ve been dating for about a week and I like him. He’s funny, and charming, and attractive. Which is why I’m going with him and Tera, my BFF and his little sister, to their family home up in the Hamptons for the summer.

  Tera is the female version of perfect Cliff. Also tall, also beautiful, also funny, and smart, and good. We’ve been rooming together in this four-story walk-up apartment for two years and we’re only moving out now because we’re gonna live together next fall for senior year.

  “What’s going on?” Cliff asks.

  “I don’t know,” Tera says, putting her hand on my shoulder. “I was just asking Rory that same question.”

  What is going on? I’m not sure. I have the most perfect summer planned. Boating, and sunbathing, and parties, and—

  “Rory?” Cliff has maneuvered his way between Tera and me and he’s pulling me close. His hand is warm on my waist, his scent powerful and masculine. I like him. I’ve been hinting around for more than a year that we should date. And finally, last week, he caught on. I’m right where I want to be with him. Where I want to be with everything in my life right now. I’m an honors student at Princeton, I have my pick of the best senior internships next fall in start-up marketing, and I have no fewer than six professors who are ready to give me a glowing recommendation to grad school at Yale the following year.

  But that text…

  “Rory. For fuck’s sake, can you answer me, please?”

  “Sorry,” I say, looking up at him. He’s taller than me by miles. At least eight inches. “I just…” I hold up my phone. The sleep screen is on, so he can’t see why I’m holding it up, but he can guess.

  “Did you get bad news or something?”

  I nod, still speechless from those words. Five is here.

  “What is it?” Tera asks, crowding her brother out so she can be close to me again. “What’s going on? Is it bad?”

  Is it bad?

  I don’t think Oliver meant it that way, but—“Yes,” I say. “It’s bad.”

  “Do you need to go home?” Cliff asks. “Did something happen at home?”

  I nod again, swallowing hard. “Yes. Something’s happened at home. I don’t really want to talk about it, but—”

  “Do you need a ride?” Tera asks. “I can ask my father to let you borrow the jet.”

  Borrow the jet. It should be shocking to hear those words come out of someone’s mouth, but we’ve “borrowed” her father’s jet many times in the last two years.

  “No,” I say, coming to my senses. “No. They’ve sent me a plane ticket.”

  “Oh, God,” Tera says. “Did someone die? Oh, Rory—”

  “No,” I say quickly. “No. No one died. It’s just…” I sigh and then walk over to my stripped bed and take a seat on the sagging mattress. “I just need to go home for a few days. That’s all. I have something to sort out and then I can meet you up in the Hamptons.” I look up at both their concerned faces. “Will that be OK?”

  “Oh, honey,” Tera says, sitting down next to me. “Of course.” She swipes a stray piece of hair away from my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. “Whatever you need. We can take you to the airport.” She looks up at her brother. “Can’t we, Cliff?”

  “Absolutely,” Cliff says, crossing the few feet of distance between us, kneeling down on one knee. “Anything you need, Rory.”

  “I’m sorry. I know this is probably ruining everything, but…”

  But Five Aston has come home. After all these years, he’s there. And I’m here. I cannot be here when he’s there. And I cannot tell my boyfriend and best friend any of this, either, so I just keep quiet.

  “Don’t worry about us, sweetie,” Tera says. “You take care of you. We’ll be here when you can come. And if you can’t come, I’ll come to you, how’s that?”

  She’s such a good friend. “I’m so lucky to have you,” I say. Then to Cliff, “You too. You guys are the best friends a person could ask for.”

  I don’t miss the raised eyebrow I get from Cliff at the word ‘friends.’ But I don’t elaborate either.

  Five is home.

  Five.

  Five.

  Five.

  It echoes in my head like some kind of special effects through a microphone.

  “Rory?” Cliff asks.

  I’ve been waiting for Five Aston to come home from England for six years.

  “Sorry,” I say, managing a smile. But I don’t feel like smiling and I’m not happy about this. Not at all. He stayed away for six years. Six. Long. Years. And he did that for a reason. He’s not here. Not in New Jersey where I am. He’s there. In Colorado, where I’m not.

  But I don’t care. I’m gonna h
ave my say with Five Aston if it’s the last thing I do.

  “Sorry,” I say again. “I’m just a little preoccupied with the news, that’s all.” I stand up, making Cliff stand as well, since he’s crowding me. And then I sling my pack over my shoulder and grab the final box left in the room I’ve lived in for the past two years and look around. I won’t be back. No matter what happens with Five, I won’t ever come back here. And the past two years were good. The five that came before that weren’t. Those were horrible because I was left waiting… and wondering. Why did he leave and never come back? Why?

  But the last two—the ones I spent with Tera here in this apartment…

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Tera asks, holding onto my arm.

  I shake my head. “Not now. Not yet. Maybe when I get back, OK? I just… I just need some time to process.”

  “What time does your flight leave?” Cliff asks.

  I look down at my phone, tab open the airline app I’ve been using since I left home for college, and check. “Three hours. I guess I better hurry.”

  They drop me at the airport departures lane. Cliff and I have an awkward kiss. I was aiming for the cheek, Five still on my mind, but he was aiming for the lips, so we met somewhere in corner-of-the-mouth territory. Tera kisses me too—on the cheek, no misunderstanding there—and then I quickly turn away and go inside to the first-class check-in.

  My dad is gonna freak out when he finds out Oliver booked me a first-class ticket, but I won’t be the one to get that lecture. Ollie will. So I let it go and enjoy the service.

  On the plane, I ask for a drink while we wait for takeoff. I really need a drink. So I get Jack Daniels in a little single-serving bottle and drink it straight from the plastic cup with ice. It’s barely noon, so I get some looks—and I get carded—but I’m twenty-one now. So they leave me alone after that.