I have a problem. A big freaking problem.
Her name is Tory Dixon.
I’ve been in love with her since I was 17.
The problem you ask?
She’s kinda my best friends mum.
I have a six foot, three inch’s tall, 22-year-old, problem.
His name is Weston Banks.
I’ve been pretending he doesn’t have feelings for me for the last six years.
You see, fourteen years ago, I became my nephew’s guardian.
And Weston, well, he’s my nephew’s best friend.
Which makes him ten years my junior and oh so deliciously complicated.
Weston had brought a girl called Candy, and she was as dumb as her named sounded. She’d looked like a stunned mullet when Finn had swept Nixie up in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.
I’m going to need your full name, phone number, criminal record and employment status before I allow you to date my mum.
… the difference is I actually have a sex life, you don’t. If it’s battery operated, it doesn’t count.
Why was she smiling like that? It was a smile I’d never seen her wear before, and I hoped I never would. It was a cross between the crazed smile of The Joker and the creepy one of the Cheshire Cat.
It first glance, the storyline sounds taboo – but it really isn’t, the situation is indeed a bit complicated and not as it seems. It is, in fact, a rather sweet, slow burn, and angsty love story, with a few bits of naughty along the way to keep us on edge until the heat is finally cranked up to atomic radiation levels. JB Heller has mastered the skill of forcing the reader to take a second look at our misperceptions, giving us just cause to open our minds or rethink an anti-hero or stereotype. I just adore that. I also adore her clever humor, feisty characters, observant insights, sizzling sensual scenes, and witty banter. She has mad skills.