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Monica’s Musings: Happy 2014 to everyone!

moinica murphyHappy 2014 to everyone! Can you believe 2013 is over? I can’t. I remember being a kid and adults going on and on about time moving so fast. I thought they were crazy. It tended to move so slooow to me, especially when I was in school. Then I grew up, got married, had kids and discovered all those adults griping about time were right. It moves way too fast.

But I digress because really, I wanted to talk to you today about THREE BROKEN PROMISES, the third book in the One Week Girlfriend series. I am so excited it’s out for all the world to read. Here is where time seemed to stand still for me. It felt like forever ago that we set the release date, I turned in the manuscript, the edits, the final proofs, etc. etc. And now, finally, it’s here. Readers can meet Jen and Colin, my sexiest (and angstiest – this should be a word, I swear) couple to date.

These two have so much going on between them. A shared past that goes deep, secrets that go deeper, and an attraction that they are bound and determined to ignore. But me being the creator of this story, no way am I going to allow them to ignore all that simmering attraction for too long. I can’t. As a romance writer, I gotta give them their happily ever after right? Of course!

Care to read a sexy little excerpt from THREE BROKEN PROMISES? Here you go!

“You’re going to turn me away yet again, aren’t you?” she asks when I don’t say anything. The irritation in her voice rings clear as her entire body goes tense. “I can’t believe it. I offer myself up to you with no strings attached and you’re trying to figure out how to let me down easy. God, I am such a moron.”

Unable to hold myself back, I rush toward her, angry that she would insult herself. Panicked that she really is going to walk away and I’m going to lose my chance. Thinking too much sucks. I need to just let it happen. Take this opportunity that she’s presenting me.

And let her go when our time is up.

“You’re not a moron,” I murmur, reaching for her. I cup her face in my hands and position her so she has no choice but to meet my gaze. I skim my thumbs across her cheeks, feel her shudder at my touch. “You make an offer like that and a man needs to process it first.”

The unshed tears still glimmer in her eyes and one escapes, leaving a damp trail across her skin. Leaning in, I stop its descent with my lips, tasting the salt, hearing the catch in her breath. “We do this and it’s not going to be some half-assed thing, you know,” I whisper.

She closes her eyes, her tears tangled in her long, thick lashes. “What’s it going to be, then?”

“A discovery.” I nuzzle her nose with my own, breathing in her scent, her very essence. God, I could devour her! It’s taking everything within me to keep calm and not unleash all over her. “An exploration.”

“That sounds like . . . research.” Her breath hitches in her throat when I drop a tender kiss on the tip of her nose.

Chuckling, I shake my head. “It’s the farthest thing from research.” I drift my lips across her cheek, blazing a hot path on her petal-soft skin. “You’re right when you said I don’t do commitment. The closest thing I’ve ever been to commitment is . . . what I share with you.”

She tentatively places her hands on my hips, her fingers curling into the waistband of my jeans. Having her hands on me sends little darts of fire throughout my insides, making me harden in an instant. She has no idea what sort of effect she has on me. How much restraint I’m using at this very moment not to throw her over my shoulder like an oversexed caveman and cart her off to my bedroom.

“But it can be no more than friendship with added . . . benefits.” I lift my head so I can look into her troubled gaze. She doesn’t like what I have to say and I don’t like it either, but I have to be honest. Stringing her along and making her believe this is something more is a mistake.

The two of us together would never work. I’m too damn selfish. I’d disappoint her. I’d hold her back when she needs her freedom. I’m not worthy of her. She’s everything sweet and good in my life, where there’s little sweet and good remaining.

I’ve kept her—and our relationship—as pure as possible even after all of these years. With the realization that she’s leaving me, that we’ll never be together again, I need to take my opportunities where I can.

Jen bites her lip and drops her gaze. “I can handle that.”

Her body language is more than telling me she doesn’t really want to handle that, but I can’t worry about it now.

I want her too damn much.



About the Author:
Monica Murphy is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series. She writes new adult and contemporary romance for Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as Karen Erickson. A native Californian, she lives in the foothills below Yosemite.


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