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Meet Laydi: She has been running away from her past and bad memories for years. Finding herself wasn’t an easy task, but she’s managed to finally get to a point to where she wants to be. Only to wake up married to her boss….who fired her the night before. Wrapped in a case that puts her life in danger, and dealing with a grave situation back home in Pearl, Laydi figures out she wasn’t close to finding herself, and now, she’s risked everything
PERSISTENCE Excerpt:
Laydi Michaels woke with a start. The glare of sunlight stabbed like a two-ton sledgehammer into her pounding brain, and she slammed her eyes shut. Not that a two-ton hammer existed, but with how she felt—headache, nausea, and alarmingly, yet deliciously sore in certain places—that was the only apt description.
She had the hangover of all binge drinkers. One that rivaled her high school days, where she would disappear with Dad’s fifth of Jack, a bag from Burger King, and her best friends, until not a drop remained in the bottle and they’d mastered the latest Pop hit.
At the top of their lungs.
Forward and backward.
Her stomach recoiled at the memory, and away from any mention of alcohol. Keeping her eyes closed—because yes, her spinning vision didn’t do anything for her nauseous stomach—she took stock of her surroundings. From the brief glimpse, she hadn’t recognized the bare white walls, or the rose-colored drapes hanging in front of a large window.
This wasn’t her room, where the walls were a sage green and the windows had blackout curtains—something required in her investigative line of work, due to her overnight surveillance cases.
Next noticeable concern? She was completely naked, just as the day she was born. The sheets against her skin—not that she moved much; no, her stomach revolted against that—were soft, smoother than the Egyptian cream-colored ones back home.
And the most alarming detail of all? The very heavy and thick arm wrapped around her waist. She lay slightly on her side, but her hip touched a warm thigh. From the uncomfortable poking sensation and the stillness of this male body next to her, something was up before the actual man was.
Raking her mind, she tried to remember anything, something from last night, a clue to explain where she was and who she lay next to. But all she could come up with was how she’d started the night by meeting, and then making an absolute blathering fool of herself to her boss, Andrew Cox.
She paused and gave a little girly sigh. Tall, well over six-feet, built like a Greek God, and not the ones learned about in History class. No, this guy had romance novel written all over him. Combined with the charm of a gentleman, and the resemblance to Chris Hemsworth; ladies fell all over themselves in his presence. And with his dating history, Andrew wasn’t one to shy away from attention.
His hair was dark blond and a few weeks past needing a haircut. Bangs fell across his forehead when he typed furiously on his computer, or when he interviewed a suspect and got really into the story. His eyes changed colors depending on the shirt he wore. They could be either blue or green, and were wide-set, startling to the female population. She’d seen many women trip over their feet when taking in Andrew, and if his height, six-days-a-week I-work-out-at-the-gym body, hair, or eyes didn’t do it, the silky velvet of his voice caused thighs to tremble with anticipation.
He should have been a radio DJ, or a phone sex operator, instead of the CEO for Off The Record Private Investigations.
He had a smooth southern drawl that spoke of being raised somewhere in the state of Georgia…sexy as hell. She shuddered at the memory.
Two things happened next: her stomach lurched and bile rose, her body’s way of telling her she had indeed indulged in one or two too many drinks last night.
Second, as she snapped her eyes open and dove from the bed, she caught a glance at the mysterious stranger with her, who was really no stranger at all.
Gloriously sexy, sleepy—and familiar—blue eyes widened in surprised and concern before she bounded across the room for the bathroom, where she promptly regurgitated last night’s fun.