Title: Fatal Beauty
Author: Nazarea Andrews
Release Date: October 10, 2015
BLURB
Charlotte was a good girl.
Sweet and innocent, a debutante with her Daddy’s credit card and a fiancée who doted on her.
She was destined for a perfect picture life in Charleston.
Sweet and innocent, a debutante with her Daddy’s credit card and a fiancée who doted on her.
She was destined for a perfect picture life in Charleston.
EJ grew up with everything she could ever want, and bored as hell.
Nothing surprises her and nothing ever changes, and she wants out—whatever it takes.
Getting involved with Anthony Jacobs is probably the worst idea she’s ever had—and that makes it irresistible.
Until Charlie needs her.
New Orleans. Memphis. Vegas.
Beautiful girls who know just how to get exactly what they want.
It’s all fun and games, sexy nights and wild parties.
But you can only manipulate your way out of so much, and the body count is rising. When their past catches up, not even a pretty smile will get them out of trouble this time.
BUY LINKS
EXCERPT
EJ pads out of her bedroom, her naked body wrapped in moonlight.
A bottle of spumante sits discarded in a silver wine chiller, and she grabs it
as she moves to her purse and pull out a pack of cigarettes. She smokes almost
pensively, staring out the window. Behind her, she can hear him moving and she
keeps her gaze trained on the window as smoke curls around her, dissipating
slowly.
“You should come back to bed,”
he says, and she can hear the tease in his tone. She barely manages to
keep from rolling her eyes as she wraps her lips around the cigarette again,
pulling one last time before dropping it into a forgotten champagne flute.
“You should go. I’ve
got an early morning tomorrow.”
Surprise and anger chase across his face, and she waits to see if
he’ll follow through.
Clayton Poole was the heir of an ancient oil tycoon, and would be
much more interesting if he would lose his temper every once in a while.
He was a fun fuck, always took care to get her off, and he opened
doors even she couldn’t walk though.
But he was boring as fuck when they weren’t
naked.
“I’ll call you
tomorrow,” he says, lamely, and she flick a look
at him as she pours a glass of spumante.
“Don’t. I’ll call you soon.”
She gives him a smile and kisses his cheek before returning to her
bedroom.
She lets out a sigh when the door shuts behind him, and settles
on her bed. It smells of sex still, but she’s
too drunk and lazy just now to strip the sheets.
Besides, she likes the smell of sex, even if Clayton isn’t her favorite fuck buddy.
There is a joint in her bedside table and she fishes it out and
lights it, pulling on it deeply as she thumbs through her social media.
The entire newsfeed is abuzz with the engagement party of the
year, and she grits her teeth. She should have been there. Clayton had been
invited—Charlie will be pissed he didn’t show, a thought that strings a smirk across her
lips—and she could have crashed it. Nothing to be done once she
was there.
Once upon a time, it would have been amusing just to get a rise
from Charlotte.
When the fuck had that changed? When she realized that Charlie
was just as unhappy in their fucking perfect life as she was?
Or was it when Charlie blackmailed EJ into sharing her
distribution, earning her respect as more than another empty headed social
climber.
She huffs, and takes another pull on the joint. The smell of weed
fill the bedroom, covering the scent of sex. Her muscles are loose and relaxed
against the bed and she lets her phone drop beside her, drifting on her high,
drunk and post-orgasmic relaxation combining to pull her down into sleep.
The room is pitch black, her body hot and sweating against the
rough duvet when she wakes. Her mouth is dry and for a disorienting moment, she
wonders where the hell she is, and what happened.
Her phone buzzes against her thigh again, and she fumbles for it.
“Charlie?” she croaks, and swallows. Reaches for
the spumante on the bedside table.
“I need you.”
The whisper from the other end of the line chills her, and she
shudders, rubbing away the goosebumps that trace along her arms.
That’s it—those
three words and nothing more.
Sleep is forgotten completely as she sits up and nods. “I’ll be right there.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
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