Series: Destination Love, #2
Published by Forever on January 31st 2017
Genres: Contemporary Romance
I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
That awkward moment you catch your boyfriend in bed with another woman and then mistakenly get arrested #chargesdropped
Annie knows life isn't always fair. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes you get mistaken for a crazed intruder when you come home early and find your boyfriend wearing nipple clamps with a coworker on the night you thought he was going to propose to you.
The important thing is to move on, and for Annie that means treating herself to a tropical vacation. But when she runs into her ex and his new woman staying at the same resort, reason is washed out to sea. Caught off guard, Annie pretends she's with Chris, a cute screenwriter she meets on the beach. With his own writing blocked, Chris is happy to help Annie craft a story to save face. Soon Annie isn't just getting over her ex, she's getting under Chris. As her fictional feelings grow increasingly real, Annie has to decide if she's ready to risk her heart on a new relationship.
**Newly revised and expanded, Wattpad sensation Jo Watson’s ALMOST A BRIDE is now available in print for the first time!**
Almost a Bride is a fun rom-com read that’s a subtle reminder about what you think you want may not always be what’s good for you. The second in her Destination Love series, this is the first book by Jo Watson that I’v read and I found it to be an easy going quick read. There are some sorrowful *gasp* moments, but for the most part it’s sweet and tender story about finding oneself (and love).
For Annie, what seems like a it’s an unfortunate thing to find her live in boyfriend in an uncompromising position, is actually a good thing. Sure her life is upended, but Annie has had her head in the sand when it came to her stuffy lawyer Trevv (Watson captures his pretentious nature in the spelling alone, but he does show himself to be quite the annoying putz). Annie has equally bad and good luck when it comes to her love life. She takes a post breakup vacation and finds herself at the same resort as her ex. Yep , that’s the bad luck. The good luck is that she meets Chris, who agrees to act as her fake boyfriend Boyden, so that she can save face. Here is where a majority of the story takes place.
Annie and Chris are natural together; immediately at ease and just seem to connect. I enjoyed how the challenge bonded them, at times comical and at time sexy. Mistakes are made and Chris and Annie’s fake turned real relationship is tested. While the story is build up through cliche’s and a pretty implausible activities, Annie and Chris and both very endearing and one can’t help but root for their success. This is 3.5 star read and one that is great for an afternoon escape.
~Review by Cyndi
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I knew something was wrong the second I walked up to my front door.
Call it intuition. Call it a sixth sense. But I just knew.
I blame the shoes. The shoes were undoubtedly the cause of all the
problems that day. It was the shoesÔÇÖ fault that I came home early, and
the shoesÔÇÖ fault I was fired.
I suppose I canÔÇÖt blame the shoes for making me late, thoughÔÇö
that was the alarm clockÔÇÖs fault for rudely deciding not to do its job.
And when I finally realized, through the thick haze of sleepiness,
that it hadnÔÇÖt gone off, it was too late. I was already late for work.
And when I say work, I mean my brand-new jobÔÇöjob of my
dreamsÔÇöas a fashion assistant at Glamorous Girl mag.
IÔÇÖd just made a total career change, leaving behind a successful job
as a stylist in advertising to pursue a job in the magazine industry. It
was early days, so I was still desperately trying to impress by being
perfect, polite, and oh so obliging. Whether it was the request for
the latte to be served at 97.7 degrees with no sugar, soy milk froth,
and a sprinkling of organic cocoa powder flown in directly from
the foothills of the Andes. Or whether it was for the jasmine-and-lavender-
scented candles to be burned in the office for exactly ten
minutes before my boss arrivedÔÇöthat was me.
Little Miss Annie Obliging.
Because letÔÇÖs face it, the word assistant is just a glammed-up euphemism
for slave. But I was ambitious and determined, so when I
realized I wouldnÔÇÖt be able to attend to the scented candles, or fetch
the latte, I panicked. So much so, that I left the house without the
said troublemaking, life-ruining, world-annihilating shoes.
LetÔÇÖs take a moment to talk about the shoes. They werenÔÇÖt
ordinary shoes, oh no, they were none other than the just-off-the-
Paris-catwalk-and-not-for-sale-to-mere-mortals-yet Christian Louboutins.
They also happened to be the centerpieces for that dayÔÇÖs
The same rushed panic that had caused me to forget the shoes in
the first place had also left me with barely enough time to scrape my
hair back into a casual bun and slip on a creased T-shirt and pair of
jeans from my floor.
The latter is a bigger sin than you think. Because where I
work, wearing anything other than the most fashionable apparel
is sacrilege. People practically throw holy water at you and start
wailing in Latin for fear that youÔÇÖve been possessed by the demon
of bad fashion. In fact, a real demon possession, complete with a
backward-rolling head and the ability to speak in tongues, would
be preferable to the demon of last seasonÔÇÖs handbag and Crocs
So when I finally got to work, underdressed, out of breath, without
the shoes, and over an hour late, I was in serious trouble.
My boss was throwing a hissy fit, due to lack of flowery scents in
her office, and her personal assistant Cedric was in the throes of an
overly dramatic caffeine withdrawal, due to lack of latte.
And it kept getting worse.
Two hours later the panicky fashion director summoned the
Louboutins. Those shoes had been troublemakers from the start. It
had been an absolute trauma getting them in the first place. TheyÔÇÖd
been flown into South Africa late the previous night, and IÔÇÖd been
tasked with collecting them. Everyone was holding their collective
breath for the grand arrival. So when I was forced to confess to their
absenceÔÇªwell, you can only imagine.
When lunch finally arrived, I jumped into my car and sped home.
I had exactly one hour to get in and out before the photo shoot, more
than enough time.
I pulled into my driveway at breakneck speed, ran for the front
door, slipped my house keys into the lock, and turnedÔÇö
Something made me stop.
Something told me not to go inside.
Something was very wrong.
I looked around nervously. Everything seemed normal. Peter
across the road was blasting his TV as usual, the ratbag Chihuahua
from number 45 was running up and down the garden perimeter
yapping at an unseen force, and Mildred, my neighbor, was outside
watering her hydrangeas.
So why was I hesitating?
I took a deep breath and inched the door open.
Nothing looked out of place.
Everything was exactly the way IÔÇÖd left it.
Yet everything felt wrong.
I slunk down the hallway toward the kitchen, where I knew IÔÇÖd
find the shoes perched next to the coffeepot. But once inside, I was
hit by a terribly eerie sensationÔÇªsomeone was in the house. A shiver
licked the length of my spine when my suspicions were confirmed.
CreeeeaaakkkÔÇªA noise was coming from my bedroom directly
Shit, shit, shit, there was an intruder in the house!
I launched myself at the cutlery drawer, grabbing the largest knife
I could find while simultaneously dialing the police and still managing
to hold on to the shoes for dear life.
ÔÇ£Police! Help, thereÔÇÖs an intruder in my house. Forty-Seven Mendelssohn
Road, Oaklands. Quick.ÔÇØ
Now what? IÔÇÖd never been in a situation like this before. What
was the correct protocol? Should I hide, evacuate the house, attack
the intruder, scream loudly? Or perhaps a combination of the above?
I thought for a second before deciding to get the fuck out of there!
But just as I had one foot safely installed outside the front door, I
heard another noise. This time it was different. It wasÔÇª
It sounded likeÔÇª
My blood ran cold.
But it couldnÔÇÖt be. Trevv was at work. Trevv had a very important
day in court, he told me. His clientÔÇÖs final hearing was today. Right
now, in fact. IÔÇÖd called him from my office about an hour ago and
heÔÇÖd told me he was in court.
He was in court, dammit!
I started climbing the stairs.
But that was impossibleÔÇªwasnÔÇÖt it?
The noises grew louder and louder the farther up the stairs I
went. IÔÇÖm not really sure at what point I knew what the noises were
or knew what I was going to see when I opened the door. But I just
ItÔÇÖs one thing walking in on your boyfriend having sex with another
woman, but itÔÇÖs another thing entirely walking in on him the
second the other woman is coming. She was facing the door but was
bouncing up and down so vigorously that her face was a blur. And
then suddenly her body stiffened, she threw her head back, opened
her mouth, and let out a high-pitched wail. As if that wasnÔÇÖt self explanatory
enough, she decided to toss in a few words for good
ÔÇ£Yes, Trevvy, yes. Oh my God, oh my God, oh Trevvy. Harder!
Ah, ah, ah.ÔÇØ *Pant, pant, pant* ÔÇ£IÔÇÖm coming!ÔÇØ *Long high-pitched
NowÔÇªthere were several things wrong with this picture, aside
from the obvious. Firstly, who the hell screams like that in bed? No
one does! Sex is not so good that you have to break the sound barrier
with your squealing dolphin sounds. Secondly, what the hell was
she wearing? She was clad in some kind of leathery studded number
that looked like it had been worn by one of the Village People. And
to make matters worse, Trevv was blindfolded with the tie that I had
bought him two Christmases ago andÔÇªOH MY GODÔÇªwere those,
were thoseÔÇªnipple clamps?
I felt sick to my stomach.
And thirdly, who was this mystery woman without an ounce of cellulite,
without the slightest smidge of fat, and with boobs that seemed
to defy all known natural laws of gravity and motion? Which
woman can be that damn perfectÔÇª
ÔÇªand then her features came into focus and the answer dawned
My boyfriendÔÇÖs ÔÇ£coworker.ÔÇØ The woman IÔÇÖd invited into
my home on several occasions for dinner. The woman that I always
phoned when I couldnÔÇÖt get hold of Trevv, because I knew they
were probably together working on a case, tired and exhausted and
burning the midnight oil when theyÔÇÖd rather be at home with their
significant others. She had a fianc├® after all.
Poor overworked Trevv and Tess.
God, I was naive.
But the show didnÔÇÖt end there. TessÔÇÖs eyes were still closed when
Trevv started making some delightful grunting-moaning-squeaking
sounds. HeÔÇÖd never made sounds like that with me before. His sweaty
hands reached up and grabbed at her hungrily.
Loud, long moan.
I was frozen. ItÔÇÖs hard to know what to do when you watch your
partner of two years with his penis somewhere you wouldnÔÇÖt even
like to imagine, let alone witness in full blinding daylight.
Once all their postcoital panting had tapered off, Tess opened her
eyes and saw me standing in the doorway. The look on her face was
indescribable. Shock and horror and fear all at the same time. And
then she opened her mouth and screamed.
Trevv then turned his head toward the door and whipped off his
blindfold. Our eyes locked and then he did something truly bizarre.
Unexpected. He grabbed Tess by the hand and dragged her to the
other side of the bed.
ÔÇ£Anne, pleaseÔÇªyou donÔÇÖt want to do this.ÔÇØ Trevv threw his hands
in the air defensively. He looked terrified. She was bleating hysterically
by this stage.
What was going on? WasnÔÇÖt I the jilted one? WasnÔÇÖt I the one
that was supposed to be upset? I started walking toward them, which
seemed to only make matters worse.
ÔÇ£Anne, please. Please.ÔÇØ He seemed to be begging now. ÔÇ£Think
about what youÔÇÖre doing. I know this is bad, but this isnÔÇÖt the way to
handle it. Please donÔÇÖt do this.ÔÇØ
Things happened pretty quickly after that. Suddenly, the room
was filled with armed police officers. I was about to tell them they
could all go home, when Trevv cut me off.
ÔÇ£She has a knife. SheÔÇÖs going to kill us!ÔÇØ he shouted, pointing at me.
What knife? I glanced at my hands, and thatÔÇÖs when I realized I
was still holding the large knife, and it was pointed in their direction.
I quickly turned to explain. ÔÇ£I wasnÔÇÖt going toÔÇöÔÇØ
ÔÇ£MaÔÇÖamÔÇªÔÇØ One of the police officers cut me off and started creeping
toward me as if I was a feral pit bull that hadnÔÇÖt eaten in a week.
ÔÇ£Put down your weapon.ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£I swear, this isnÔÇÖt what you think, I was just trying toÔÇöÔÇØ
BAM! Face on floor, handcuffs around wrists.
Three really painful things happened at that point: One, the knife
slipped and cut the entire length of my palm. Two, some of my
newly acquired, gorgeous nails snapped off. And three, the crystal-encrusted,
six-inch heel of the priceless Louboutin snapped off,
rolled across the floor lifelessly, and disappeared under the bed.
THE DESTINATION LOVE SERIES┬á
BURNING MOON, #1, ~ ALMOST A BRIDE, #2 ~┬áFINDING YOU, #3┬á
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