Welcome TB Markinson!I'm still on vacation. I've got two more days at the beach, so I'm gladly keeping my head buried in the sand a while longer. But TB is here! She has a new book that sounds like a good read.
|To secure a loving future, she must shed an addicting past.|
Newspaper publisher and world traveler JJ Cavendish continually feels pressured to live up to her Miracle Girl nickname. Not many people know she’s living a carefully crafted lie. She may not hide ties to the LGBT community, but she does hide past struggles with addiction.
When the Colorado native is handpicked to take the helm at a dying Denver newspaper, she ends up reconnecting with her long lost love in this contemporary lesbian romance. Only there’s a catch. If JJ fires the most belligerent editor at the paper, she risks losing the love of her life.
Mid-afternoon office romps abound in this romantic comedy while also focusing on what it takes for a newspaper to remain relevant in this age of social media.
Must JJ lose everything in order to gain a life more fully her own?
Praise for The Miracle Girl:
“The Miracle Girl is phenomenal!” Christine
“The best one yet.” Shellie
“I don't often give 5 stars to books, but I loved this book.” Heidi
“Impossible to put down.” Windowwasher
“I was hooked by the first sentence.” Cheryll
“This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I should have known.” She fumbled around looking for her jeans.
“What was a mistake? This?” Once again, I pointed to the bed.
Earlier that night, both of us had walked across the stage to receive our degrees. I received one in journalism, and Claire a business degree. She had some job interviews set up for the following week, while I was heading to Europe to backpack for six months. It was my graduation gift from my parents. They had started putting money into a college account before I was born, and when I received a full four-year ride, they decided to give me the money when I graduated. My desire was to see a bit of the world before I started a career.
Claire let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, JJ. I love you. I really do. But I need more stability in my life. Not a gypsy.”
“Gypsy!” I couldn’t help laughing at the idea and fell back onto the bed. I wasn’t loaded, but I’d never struggled financially. When I returned from Europe my father had a job lined up for me at the Denver newspaper where he worked. He was a sportswriter and arranged for me to start in the advertising department. Not my ideal job, but it was a job nonetheless during times when not many graduates had one lined up. At least it wasn’t the mailroom.
“I shouldn’t have started something I knew wouldn’t go anywhere. This was too risky.” Claire sat heavily on the couch on the far side of the room, shaking. My studio apartment didn’t allow much room for escape.
“This? You mean I’m a risk?” I placed a hand on my chest. “Or do you mean being with a woman?” I slipped her T-shirt over my head and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the small space.
“You know I don’t give a crap about being with women or with men. You’re not the first woman I’ve slept with. You know that.”
“Yes, but you’ve never had a serious relationship with a woman. You’ve only been serious with Andrew.”
Andrew had been Claire’s boyfriend during most of her undergrad. He was a bit of a prick, but I tolerated him for Claire’s sake. I never let on that I was in love with Claire, and Andrew never suspected.
“Andrew asked me to marry him. I wasn’t sure at first, but …”
Claire leaned away, putting her palms up to indicate she wanted space. “You can’t even commit to your name.”
“What?” I didn’t attempt to hide my confusion.
“JJ? To this day I don’t know what the initials stand for.” Claire pinned me with a knowing look like she had cracked some secret code.
“Jamilla Jean. You never asked. Everyone calls me JJ.” When I was called to accept my degree earlier that night, the announcer had said JJ Cavendish. That was how everyone knew me.
“That’s a lovely name. You should grow up, Jamilla Jean.” Claire slipped on a black boot.
“Me? You want Andrew to take care of you. That’s why you’re doing this. You think I’m too much of a risk. Why? Because you actually love me. You can’t tell me that you love Andrew. If you did, you wouldn’t have seduced me earlier.”
“I seduced you?” She ran her hand angrily through her hair. “This is why I didn’t want to go down this path.”
“This path,” I parroted. “You can lie to yourself, Claire, but you can’t lie to me. I see it in your eyes. I know you’re in love with me. I also see the fear.”
Claire bit her trembling lower lip.
“No one will love you as much as I do, and that scares the crap out of you.” I reached for her arm, but she pulled away.
Maybe it was best to make a clean break. College was over. Like she said, time to grow up.
I wiped my eyes, determined to be strong. A small object by the door caught my attention. It took me a second or two to finally figure out what it was. Claire’s matching friendship bracelet, the one we made our first summer together when we were co-counselors for a day camp. Since the day we had made them, neither one of us had taken them off. That was her parting gift: a clean break.
I snatched her bracelet from the floor and then yanked mine off. While rolling both of them in my fingers, I made a decision.
Yes, it was time for me to grow up. Leave my college love behind. Move on with my life.
The next morning I boarded a plane and never intended to see Claire again. It wasn’t until the plane took off that I realized I had made a terrible mistake, but it was too late. Or so I thought.
Running was easier.
T. B. Markinson is an American writer, living in England. When she isn’t writing, she’s traveling the world, watching sports on the telly, visiting pubs, or taking the dog for a walk. Not necessarily in that order.
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