INSERT NAME HERE by Eve Summers

INSERT NAME HERE by Eve Summers 

When her fiancé dumped her before the wedding, Cass took the first airplane out of her hometown. Now she’s in Africa, going through her bucket-list of things to do before she turns thirty.

One of the items on the list is to have a one-night stand. Trouble is, she knows just the guy to have that one-night stand with, and she also knows she’ll have her heart broken all over again….

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~Excerpt~

This is my To-Do-Before-I-Turn-30 list:

• Eat an ostrich egg. Check.

• Play with a cheetah cub. Check.

• Swim with a dolphin. Check.

• Scuba dive in a foreign country. Double check for doing it at night.

• Skydive. Check, bonus points because I wasn’t scared.

• Dare to love again. Nah, cross it out. So not going to happen. I’ve learned my lesson.

• Make love on a yacht.

• ... With a stranger for extra points.



Don’t get me wrong, I’m not into one-night stands. The idea of getting close and intimate with someone I’m not emotionally involved with gives me the creeps. I only included it in my to-do list because I was hurt and devastated and not thinking straight.

Getting dumped wasn’t on my to-do list. Neither was an impromptu trip to Africa. When my now-ex-boyfriend broke up with me, I simply sold my engagement ring and booked the first holiday package I found. My Before-I-Turn-30 list was born on the long flight towards the Black Continent.

And now I’m in Africa. The sun is hot. The air is hot. My energy levels are up there with over-boiling. In just two short weeks, I managed to put a big fat checkmark next to five items on my bucket list. Beats choosing the wedding cake, that’s for damned sure.

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NOT COMPLICATED by Eve Summers

       
NOT COMPLICATED by Eve Summers

After five years of no contact, Abigail Franklin wants only one thing from Luke Taylor: half an hour of his time to see the son he doesn’t know he has.

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~Excerpt~        Facebook is weird. It lets you list your favorite movies (Casablanca) and music (Snow Patrol) and books (Joshilyn Jackson), it shows updates about your day (another late night at the office, Christopher was asleep by the time I got home), and yet it fails to capture the very essence that makes you - you.

Growing up, I wore homemade clothes because my parents couldn’t afford labels or even store-bought dresses. It made me feel inferior, but also loved beyond belief, because every garment I wore had been lovingly designed, cut and sewn by my mom. Where do I write that on Facebook?

My short-term goal is to work saner hours, my dream is for my son to get to know his dad, and my secret fantasy involves a happily-ever-after with Luke. Facebook remains totally oblivious of all that.

I choose not to confirm Luke as a friend. A Facebook friendship would be so much less than what we once had.

That leaves me one option: I have to go to the reunion.