Brad Townsend, geology doctoral student,
knows Cagney Adler is the perfect fake girlfriend to help him avoid blind
dates. Sure, they have nothing in common, but that’s what makes her ideal.
There’s no way they’ll fall in love.
But the pretend stuff begins to look real,
with double dates to the movies, and apartment warming parties. And wait,
Cagney’s apartment becomes unlivable…and they find themselves roommates.
The fake relationship feels more real with
every day.
My Review
Bio
Terry Newman is the award-winning author of
several paranormal novels and novellas, including Rewrites of the Heart,
Heartquake, and The Wizard of her Heart.
She enjoys writing humor and creating
off-beat characters, each with their own quirks. She’s spent most of her life
in northeast Ohio, where she sets all of her fictional towns.
Terry has spent most of her adult life
writing in some fashion, from small-town reporter to editor-in-chief and
ghostwriter for a national natural health publishing firm. The last decade and
half she’s worked a freelance writer, penning ebooks that range from Native
Americans to starting a doula services business.
She has a daughter, a son-in-law, and a
grandpuppy. Terry lives in North Lima, a real town in northeast Ohio with all
of her characters. Yes, it does get crowded at times.
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Excerpt
“Casey. Casey. Wait up.”
Cagney heard hurried footsteps behind her;
each one sounded closer. With her office hours done, she looked forward to her
yoga class. A class she needed after the blind date disaster and the weekend of
grading papers. And that damn book of her advisor’s that seemed to pop up
everywhere. She had spent too much time reading it.
“Casey, please stop.”
Brian, no, Bradley Townsend, appeared at
her side. She stopped and looked at him. His eyes were every bit as blue as
they were Friday night. “What is your problem?”
“Why didn’t you answer me? Didn’t you hear
me calling your name?” Brad’s brow furrowed and he ran a hand through his
curls.
“I heard someone call a Casey. My name is
Cagney.”
She met this man once. They mutually
decided they had nothing in common. Why was he chasing after her? Was he
stalking her? Was she in danger?
She took a step back and tightened her grip
on the backpack hanging off her right shoulder. She’d use it if she had to.
She’d swing it as hard as she could into his balls. That should be enough to
give her a head start. Then she’d scream as loud as she could. No way he’d
touch her after that.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Your name is
Cagney. I did it again, didn’t I?” He looked at his shoes. “I’m not good with
names.”
He looked like a little boy. The threat of
a stalker dissipated.
“I wanted to talk to you before your office
hours ended.”
“You knew when my office hours were?” She
scanned Brad from head to toe. Suddenly, he did look dangerous. “What kind of
stalker are you?”
“I’m not a stalker, I promise.” He held up
one hand. His blue eyes bore into her. “I asked Logan to ask Molly what your
hours were, so I could talk to you. I have an idea about us.”
That was it. That’s all she had to hear.
“There is no us. We both agreed to that Friday night.” She walked. It shouldn’t have surprised her
that he followed along beside her. “We decided we have nothing in common. Nothing.”
“I know. But I’ve got this idea.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” She
hurried her pace. Why? It’s not like she could out-walk him. Now that she saw
him standing in the bright light, she knew him to be at least six feet tall—to
her meager five four. He probably slowed his pace so not to get ahead of her.
Luckily, Alexander Hall was close. She
stood at the door to the building. “I’m going to do yoga to calm my nerves.”
She looked up at his blue eyes. That beard. “You claim not to be a stalker, but
you’re acting very much like one.”
He gave her the hint of a smile. Her
initial anxiety he would try something had faded a while ago. She wasn’t sure
when. But she didn’t want him to know that. Now he was just an annoyance.
Granted, a good-looking annoyance.
“Goodbye, Brad. Maybe we’ll see each other
around the Physics Café.”
She reached for the door, but he beat her
by several seconds and opened it for her. Very stalker-like. She ignored it and
entered the building and headed straight for the room. He followed her.
“You’ll want to hear my idea,” he said
enthusiastically. What could he possibly be enthusiastic about?
She entered the classroom, dumped her
backpack at the door, and tore off her jacket, revealing a loose T-shirt.
Brad watched her. She took her place in the
middle of the floor and sat. He sat beside her. “I’ve got a foolproof way—”
“Sir, do you plan on taking the class
today? This is not a university-sponsored class. You’ll need to pay the
twenty-dollar fee if you intend to participate.”
She stifled a giggle. That should do it.
That would get him out of the room. Out of her business. Out of her life, if
she had any type of luck.
“Sure, I’ll take it.” He stood and pulled a
wallet out of his jeans pocket. It appeared she had little to no luck.
The instructor, Harmony McKenzie,
immediately started class once Brad sat next to her. “We’ll begin, as usual,
sitting legs crossed. Keep your back nice and tall.” He had no chance to broach
his idea, however absurd she was sure it would be.
Brad crossed his long legs and rested his
hands on his knees. His eyes focused on the instructor.
“Listen, you’re tired of blind dates,
right?”
“Now, we’re going to slowly roll ourselves
onto our backs.”
Cagney leaned back and glanced toward Brad.
He was already down and staring at her.
“I’m tired of blind dates, too.”
“Draw your right knee toward your chest.”
As she raised her leg, she watched Brad complete
the task. Once he was done, he looked her way. “What if we hang out together in
public, so people think we’re dating?”
“Extend the leg toward the ceiling.”
“What?” Cagney held on to her leg. “You
mean you want me to pretend to date you?”
The instructor gave instructions to get
back into the cross-legged position.
“Why would I want to do that?” The man had
some nerve.
“So Molly won’t try to set you up with
another man.”
Harmony gave commands for the downward
facing dog pose. He raised his butt off the floor. Once again, she noticed how
tight and cute it was.
He glanced at her from the full pose, not
looking the least bit comfortable. “Look, Logan already has me scheduled to
meet someone Friday. And I’m sure—”
“A week from Friday for me.” Cagney watched
his unsteady legs from her own downward facing dog pose. “But we don’t have
anything in common. I wouldn’t know what to talk about.”
“But that’s the beauty of it. We don’t have
to talk. We’re just two people together, working on our separate
dissertations.”
She noticed his legs quivered even more.
And he sounded out of breath.
“There’s no way we can develop any type of
relat…friendship that would take time away from our studies.” It looked as if
his legs had had enough of the downward facing dog.
He sucked in a breath. She wasn’t sure that
was proper yoga form. “But the best part is that neither Logan nor Molly will
try to set us up on blind dates again.” He paused. She prayed he didn’t faint.
“At least not for a long time.” He turned
his head in her direction and smiled. “It’s a win-win.”
“Relax, class.”
Brad plopped full force on the floor. “Do
you do this often?” He rolled over.
The man looked pitiful, lying on his back,
his arms extended out, breathing heavily.
“Yup, three times a week.” Cagney did a few
leg stretches.
He shook his head. The small, dark curls
moved ever so slightly. “Do you like this torture? This, by the way, is called
upward facing dead dog.”
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