Born into a life of privilege and secrets, Nora Blakely has everything any nineteen-year-old girl could desire. She’s an accomplished pianist, a Texas beauty queen, and on her way to Princeton after high school. She’s perfect…
Leaving behind her million-dollar mansion and Jimmy Choos, she becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex.
Then she meets her soulmate. But he doesn’t want her.
When it comes to girls, twenty-five-year-old Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love. His gym and his brother are all he cares about...until he meets Nora. He resists the pull of their attraction, hung up on their six year age difference.
As they struggle to stay away from each other, secrets will be revealed, tempers will flare, and hearts will be broken.
Welcome to Briarcrest Academy…where sometimes, the best things in life are Very Bad Things.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Ilsa Madden-Mills wrote her first work at the age of twelve when she penned a little ditty about a handsome prince who had no sense. Since then, she’s always written, whether it was for work or fun. When she was young, she entered every short story and poetry contest around; when she was in college, she wrote for the university paper; when she taught English, she wrote a play along with a wonderful group of drama students.Very Bad Things is her first full-length novel and part of a new series called Briarcrest Academy.
She graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in English from an esteemed university in the South where she now resides. She spends her days with two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. When she’s not typing away at a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.She loves to hear from fans and fellow avid readers. Check her out on Facebook or her author website.
EXCERPT: Nora and Leo Meet
“Drop the paint and turn around slowly with your hands in the air.” The loud command was said with a deep voice. “I’ve got a gun, so move nice and slow.”
I bent over and placed the can on the pavement. I started to turn when— “I said put your hands in the air!” he yelled.
I yanked my hands up and eased around to face the owner of the voice.
He was about ten feet away from me, standing six feet and then some. He was missing a shirt but wearing a pair of black athletic shorts and flip-flops. Judging by his disheveled dirty blond hair and bloodthirsty eyes, I’d have to guess this might be the owner of the Escalade.
And I’d just woken him up.
He came closer to me, and my eyes were immediately drawn to his green-and-blue dragon tattoo. Like a giant snake, the scaled body of the dragon wrapped around his forearm and bicep with the neck coming down from his shoulder and the head resting on his broad chest. Red flames poured from its mouth, between laser sharp teeth.
This guy looked medieval.
So, I squinted and pictured him as a rugged Viking, wearing a horned helmet and gripping a spear instead of a gun. Maybe holding a shield instead of his flashlight and definitely wearing some of those laced-up leather boots. The word berserker (from round two of the famous spelling bee) came to mind, and I rolled the syllables around my tongue . . . ber-serk-er. Yep, that was him alright: one pissed off Norse warrior.
I grinned at my amazing analogy because, well, I’d had too much to drink.
"You think this is funny, son?” he snapped.
I shook my head, suddenly aware that some guy was pointing a gun at me.
And he thought I was a boy.
Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ue0eLwXXpdc
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