Title: One & Only You
Author: Tabatha Vargo & Senna Daniels
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 5, 2019
Cover Design: Perfect Pear Creative Covers
One & Only You is a STANDALONE novella (45k words)
I’m walking down the aisle and toward the man I’ve loved almost all of my life. He’s wearing a black tux and a sexy grin. His sable eyes devour me, making promises of a honeymoon I’ll never forget.
Everything is beautiful. It’s the moment I’ve always dreamed of. It’s almost perfect, except, Wyatt James isn’t my groom and this isn’t my wedding.
It’s my identical twin sister’s.
We’ve been switching places all of our lives, but I never thought she’d take it this far. And once I say I do, there’s no going back.
“I, Wyatt Alexander James, take you, Allison Leigh Banks, to be my wedded wife…”
I was going to be sick. Either that, or I was going to faint, right there in front of Wyatt and the pastor. In front of everyone, nearly every person I had ever known in my entire life, assembled in St. Matthew’s Church in what was being called the wedding of the year.
Hundreds of people sat in the pews, their eyes locked on Wyatt and me in rapt fascination as we exchanged vows. Everyone was engrossed in the wedding of Allison Banks and Wyatt James.
The problem was, I wasn’t Allison Banks.
I was the bride’s identical twin sister, Addison Banks, or Addy as my family liked to call me, and I was completely insane for going along with such a ridiculous scheme.
No.
I wasn’t my brazen and ballsy sister, Allison. I was me, the shyest person in the free world, and I was literally seconds from throwing up. Right there at the altar of the statuesque, historic church, in front of the world, I was going to blow chunks.
I fixed my eyes on the peekaboo pearl-dotted heels Allison had chosen for her wedding. They were a bit big on my feet, and I could barely walk in them considering I was more of a comfortable flats kind of girl.
Beyond the shoes I was wearing was the intricate swirls of the marble flooring beneath my feet. The twirls of blue and gray marble were blurry since I was going without my glasses. I kept having to blink away the blur to keep myself from getting even dizzier.
A few fluffs of dust swam in the candlelight and the afternoon light flowing through the stained-glass windows of the church in shades of blues and reds. And the overly sweet scents of the blood red rose bushes mixed with baby’s breath assaulted my senses, adding to my nausea.
I swallowed, my throat dry and scratchy. A dribble of nervous sweat slid between my shoulders, making me long to reach behind me and scratch my bare back.
I should have been a bridesmaid, tucked away to the side blending in with the other bridesmaids. Instead, I was standing there with Wyatt in front of a pre-lit arch, wrapped in silvery deco mesh and even more roses.
I was lying in the house of the Lord. I could practically feel his disapproving glare upon me. Just thinking it, made my heart rate speed up and I sucked in a loud gasp of air as panic shook me.
Calm.
I needed to stay calm.
But how was that even possible when I was playing a part in the biggest deception ever?
I was going to be sick. Either that, or I was going to faint, right there in front of Wyatt and the pastor. In front of everyone, nearly every person I had ever known in my entire life, assembled in St. Matthew’s Church in what was being called the wedding of the year.
Hundreds of people sat in the pews, their eyes locked on Wyatt and me in rapt fascination as we exchanged vows. Everyone was engrossed in the wedding of Allison Banks and Wyatt James.
The problem was, I wasn’t Allison Banks.
I was the bride’s identical twin sister, Addison Banks, or Addy as my family liked to call me, and I was completely insane for going along with such a ridiculous scheme.
No.
I wasn’t my brazen and ballsy sister, Allison. I was me, the shyest person in the free world, and I was literally seconds from throwing up. Right there at the altar of the statuesque, historic church, in front of the world, I was going to blow chunks.
I fixed my eyes on the peekaboo pearl-dotted heels Allison had chosen for her wedding. They were a bit big on my feet, and I could barely walk in them considering I was more of a comfortable flats kind of girl.
Beyond the shoes I was wearing was the intricate swirls of the marble flooring beneath my feet. The twirls of blue and gray marble were blurry since I was going without my glasses. I kept having to blink away the blur to keep myself from getting even dizzier.
A few fluffs of dust swam in the candlelight and the afternoon light flowing through the stained-glass windows of the church in shades of blues and reds. And the overly sweet scents of the blood red rose bushes mixed with baby’s breath assaulted my senses, adding to my nausea.
I swallowed, my throat dry and scratchy. A dribble of nervous sweat slid between my shoulders, making me long to reach behind me and scratch my bare back.
I should have been a bridesmaid, tucked away to the side blending in with the other bridesmaids. Instead, I was standing there with Wyatt in front of a pre-lit arch, wrapped in silvery deco mesh and even more roses.
I was lying in the house of the Lord. I could practically feel his disapproving glare upon me. Just thinking it, made my heart rate speed up and I sucked in a loud gasp of air as panic shook me.
Calm.
I needed to stay calm.
But how was that even possible when I was playing a part in the biggest deception ever?
Tabatha is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for her sexy adult romance Little Black Book.
Tabatha writes in all genres, including adult and new adult, and isn't afraid to venture into the dark side on occasion, as she proved with her dark, prison romance, Slammer.
She's an avid reader of all things smutty and the writer of sexy stories featuring redeemable alpha bad boys and sweet, strong women.
Her other loves include her children, her loving, supportive husband, anything historical, and wind chimes.
When she isn't writing, she's texting book ideas to herself.
Tabatha is represented by Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management.
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