The embarrassment of being the only unkissed girl in high school is something Sandy Cardington refuses to accept. The first kiss project is her foolproof plan to finally get rid of the status at her 17th birthday party, while her parents are out of town.
With several kissable boys on her guest list, this should be a walk in the park. But she didn’t count on her older brother returning from college and throwing a wrench into her plans. To make matters even more complicated, he has a friend in tow, and the cute hockey player stirs unexpected butterflies in her stomach every time their paths cross.
While Sandy moves heaven and earth to make her party and project come true, it looks as if Thane Griffyn has his own plans to teach her the real meaning of a first kiss…
A compelling, sweet high school romance, perfect for fans of Kelly Oram, L A Cotton, Cassie Mae, and Erin Watt.
“Who. Are. You?”
The words fly out of my mouth even before the front door falls shut behind me. There’s a stranger in my house—built like a demi-god, demonic dark hair, and with eyes like an angel. He comes out of the bathroom as if he’d just taken a break after parking himself in my home for a cozy film marathon. Hello?
The intruder with the white t-shirt wipes his still damp hands on the back of his washed-out jeans, not even half as confused as I am, obviously. “My name’s Thane,” he says. Then he smiles, and the sun is rising a second time today at half past six in the evening. What the hell?
He cocks his head. “And yours?”
My backpack slides from my right shoulder, pulling one side of my unzipped dark blue hoodie with it, and hits the tiled hallway floor with a thud so loud the neighbors could hear. That’s from the five new books I just borrowed from the library. All hardcovers. “Huh?”
Dimples and an amused look make the young man’s eyes scrunch a little tighter. “Your name?”
Jeez, burglars don’t usually smirk and engage you in conversations, do they? Then again, we’ve never been robbed before, so what do I know?
With a jerk of my shoulder, I push my hoodie back in place and then grab my brother’s old hockey stick from behind the chest in the foyer. We’ve been keeping it there since the day I watched my first murder mystery as a kid, and today I swing it for the first time.
“I’m Sandra Michelle Cardington. Cardington as in the name written on the mailbox outside this house. My house.” Need I say, “I live here!” My fingers clenching around the wood, I move one step closer to the housebreaker. “You don’t.”
“Whoa.” His chuckle runs wild into nice boyish laughter, and he lifts his hands in surrender.
Not gonna help, cutie. I’ll knock your lights out.
As I scowl like a wild dog, he keeps his body rigid, but his star-blue eyes move to the right as he shouts over his shoulder, “You didn’t say you’re living with Harley Quinn, Cam.”
The next instant, he moves forward so swiftly I totally miss the moment. With just one hand, he brings my arms down then casts a friendly look straight into my eyes. “Let me show you how this works. This isn’t a baseball bat, you know. You use it a little closer to the ground.”
"I'm writing stories because I can't breathe without."
Anna Katmore lives in an enchanting world of her own, which allows only those to enter who are ready to hand in logic and rationalism. But beware, if you dare to step through this door, you'll never want to leave again...
Disney is her attitude towards life, and if she could, she'd save the world from itself. Her patronus is a wolf, her wand the broken twig of an apple tree, 13 inches long with a unicorn hair core. Glitter on her shoes is a must, though she doesn't care for Cinderella's glass slippers. Too risky that something might break...
For more information, please visit www.annakatmore.com
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