New Adult Romance from Karen Anne
The night Brittany Wakefield kissed her best friend, Jaime, she lost everything. Who knew one amazing moment could send him running— spinning a web of deceit and avoidance for two years. Stepping onto campus, she’s ready to win him back, even if it involves pledging a sorority she has no interest in.
Erik Draxton fell hard for Brit the moment she walked into the art room. With vibrant purple hair, music in her veins and a rebellious flair, she’s all he’s ever wanted.
While Jaime shrouds himself in secrets, Brit finds herself longing even more to be a part of his world. Unable to watch the girl of his dreams get tossed to the side, Erik decides to take matters into his own hands. But when Erik crosses a line, Brit feels backed into a corner, and discovering Jaime’s secret leaves her devastated.
With a shattered heart from Jaime, and the risk of losing Erik on the horizon, she knows one thing: navigating the social circles can be a suicide mission.
Our model was beautiful, and if anyone was wondering if she was a natural red head, she soon put their curiosity to rest when she disrobed, revealing creamy skin, and a neat rug that matched the curtains. I glanced around the room, and watched the other guys who tried hard not to smile as she took her position in the middle of the floor, back arched, nipples to the ceiling. We usually had male models, or strictly older women. This was a rare treat for them.
I glanced at Erik, who didn’t seem phased by the goddess of seduction that twisted before him. He sketched her form, his head down, mouth in a stiff straight line. Usually, he did this thing where he stuck the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. That was the Erik I was accustomed to. This guy was an impostor. I put my head down and started sketching Aphrodite.
When the professor signaled for the model to take a break and everyone broke apart, I followed Erik into the hallway and watched him disappear into the men’s room. All right, I’ll wait. When the door opened a minute later, I jumped in front of Erik—but it wasn’t Erik. It was my professor, who grabbed at his chest in alarm.
“Sorry, Professor Martin, I uh… thought you were someone else.”
“Not funny, Miss Wakefield,” he grumbled and continued down the hallway. I flattened against the wall and waited. The door opened again, and this time Erik walked out.
“You can’t ignore me forever, we still have like ten more weeks of the semester. That’s twenty classes. You’re really gonna ignore me for twenty classes? And besides, we’re both art majors, chances are we’ll have another class together in the future.” I folded my arms and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t walk past. That’s right, five-foot-five Brit was highly intimidating to six foot Erik.
The corner of his mouth lifted up into a slow smile. “Missed me that much huh?”
“What? No, I—”
“You couldn’t even handle one hour of me ignoring you. I thought you were tougher than that. Looks like playing hard to get is paying off.”
I worried he was serious, but then he cracked a real smile and laughed.
“You need to lighten up, Monster High. I’m over you.”
Huh. Over me. I’m not sure why, but his words stung. Maybe because no one had ever been into me before.
Erik kept talking, “In fact, I decided to join a religious order. Perhaps Hare Krishna. Think I’d look good in orange?”
I laughed and stepped to the side so we could walk back to class together.
“So we’re cool?” I asked, just to be sure.
“I’m cool. You’re cool now, I can’t say how cool you’ll look in those letters.” He flicked at my pledge pin.
“Yeah, but I think I can make them cool.”
“No, you’re not that cool.”
“You’re right, I’m not.” I sighed in relief, happy that we were talking again.
“What about her? Could she talk you out of a religious order” I gestured to our live playboy centerfold.
“Her?” he said, twisting his face. “Not my type.”
“So you’re not into perfect?” I eyed him with suspicion.
“Nah.” He pulled gently on the end of my hair. “I’m into purple.”
I felt my face burn pink in response. Professor Martin clapped his hands, calling for our attention. Everyone obediently returned to their easels, and the model took a new position, her arms draped over her head, her hair falling delicately over one of her perfect size C breasts. I stole a peek at Erik to see his expression at this striking pose, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixed on me.
About The Author
KAREN ANNE is a New Adult Contemporary Romance author who lives in New York. She loves cats, coffee and deeply misses 90’s grunge.
Karen is also known as Kat Daemon, Paranormal Romance writer and lover of all things dark and twisty.
You can find out more about her at www.katdaemon.com