Title: At Arm’s Length (Love in the Suburbs Series Book #2)
Author: D.E. Haggerty
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Jackson Schmidt is the biggest jerkity jerk ever. They should totally erect a statue to commemorate his jerkityness, jerkdom— Uggh! There are literally not enough words for ‘jerk’ to depict the man.
Unfortunately, Jackson is also the most gorgeous specimen of manhood I’ve ever laid eyes on. One look at him and I want to jump and climb him like a tree. But whenever he opens his mouth, his status as the biggest bastard on the planet is immediately reinstated. It’s impossible for the man to say anything remotely nice – at least not to me. To my best friend, though? To her, he’s Mr. Perfect Gentleman. Did I mention he’s carrying a torch for my engaged best friend?
My libido does not give one flying hoot Jackson is a dick who has a crush on my bestie. Nope. Not at all. No matter how much of a schmuck the man is – and trust me he takes schmuck to the next level – I continue to pant after him like a nerdy freshman crushing on the prom king. If I want to keep my sanity, I’m going to have to keep Jackson at arm’s length.
Sanity is totally overrated.
Check out the first book in the Love in the Suburbs Series!
Title: About Face (Love in the Suburbs Series Book #1)
Author: D.E. Haggerty
Genre: Contemporary Romance
My grandma is trying to hook me up.
To be painfully specific, my seventy-five-year-old grandmother thinks a little hanky-panky would cheer me up. Direct quote. Since I’m currently living with her, I can’t escape the endless line of grandchildren of friends who keep ‘dropping by’ for dinner. Literally, I can’t escape. I can barely manage the trek to the dining room at this point.
While Grandma’s determined to find me a husband, I’m determined to learn how to walk again so I can walk away from her matchmaking skills. Spoiler alert: She has no matchmaking skills.
But then I get a brilliant idea. I can fake date my physical therapist. Only he wants a real date. Gulp. A real date with me? Is he for real? I’m no longer the stylish girl with the glamorous job. Now, I’m a woman with a shattered leg and a scarred face.
If I’m going to learn to live with my new reality and give love a chance, my attitude needs to do an about face. Easier said than done.
Jackson wrote his Shortstack a GREAT note!
Keep reading to see the full Love Note!
My dearest Shortstack,
I’m sorry.
I know an apology is not the normal way to start a love letter, but nothing about our love story has been ‘normal’. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. You consider the word ‘normal’ to be a nasty word after all. So, I’ll start with an apology and end with a promise.
I’m sorry I forced you to discover every synonym in the world for jerk because I was the worst jerk ever to you.
I’m sorry I was afraid of my feelings for you. So afraid I said things a man should never say to a woman, let alone the woman with whom he’s falling in love.
I’m sorry I ran screaming away from you instead of running towards you with open arms.
I’m sorry you saw the extreme worst of me when I should have been showing you the best of me.
I’m sorry falling in love with me was a battle.
And most of all, I’m sorry for making you feel less than perfect, because to me you are perfect.
I can continue with the apologies, but I’m sure you’re getting anxious to hear the promises. Patience is not one of your virtues where I’m considered. And who can blame you? I still thank whatever god will listen to me daily for you opening your door to me on that day. You know the one. The day our love story not only took a turn for the better, but things heated up in delicious ways.
Before I get to the promises, I need to say one more thing. Not only because I love to torture you, but because it needs to be said and you need to hear it. You are the most generous, caring woman I know. You may hide your sweet core behind a thick layer of snarky comments, but I know it’s there. I know because you show it to me all the time. I’m honored and privileged to be the one person allowed into your gooey heart – please don’t hit me for saying gooey.
And now for my promise. I promise to never treat you in any way to make you feel less than ever again. I promise to stand behind and beside you and whatever crazy escapades endeavors you pursue. I promise to be not only your lover but your partner in every way imaginable. Finally, I promise to spend every single second of the rest of my time of the earth making you happy and, even more importantly, keeping you happy.
Yours until the end of time,
Pretty Boy
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Thank you for including me in your love notes promo. This was super fun to write (although more difficult than I thought to write from Jackson’s perspective)