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Cover Reveal: Behind Closed Doors
It’s finally here!!
Let’s all jump up and down!
No, seriously…because I know some of you were starting to doubt this book would ever actually be written. And if I’m being honest, there were times when I was ready to throw in the towel as well.
With scheduling conflicts, and health issues, when I actually had the time to finally sit down and write Roman’s story, I was scared I’d lost him. There was a point when I seriously considered postponing the book indefinitely. But I knew you guys deserved more.
Roman deserved more.
So, I put on my big girl pants and Roman and I had a serious talk. He’s a hard character to write. Most of my heroes, even the most damaged of them, are inherently good. Roman is as well, but it’s deeply buried. And it was something I struggled with. Writing someone who wasn’t charming and kind of an asshole by nature was against my inner nature. But I love the redeemable hero, and Roman is the ultimate fixer upper.
Blurb
My name is Roman Cavenaugh and I’m kind of an asshole.
Running a company isn’t easy, especially when everyone expects you to fail, so being a jerk? It comes with the territory.
I don’t have time to mess around, and I sure as hell didn’t see her coming.
Cara Hamilton—she was supposed to be off limits…a temporary employee brought in during my assistant’s maternity leave.
But, in the blink of an eye, she became so much more.
An obsession I couldn’t shake.
So yeah, I may be an asshole, but now, I finally had a purpose, and soon, she would be mine.
All’s fair in love and war…
Coming September 13th.
Pre-order exclusively at iBooks
Cover
A book cover requires a huge team, and mine is, in my humble opinion…outstanding! A big thanks to Kelsey Keeton for another stunning photograph, and to James Freeman for modeling and being my perfect Roman! And lastly, as always…a big thanks to my amazing cover designer Sarah Hansen from Okay Creations.
Excerpt
***Unedited. Subject to changes/modifications before publication.***
“Can I ask you something?” she said, drawing my attention away from the monotony on my computer screen. I looked up to find her eyes dead set on mine. It was unnerving.
She usually tried to avoid direct eye contact with me. Maybe I intimidated her. Perhaps she found me attractive and the idea of lusting after her boss bothered her.
Believe me, it bothered me too.
In a very physical way.
“Go ahead,” I answered, unwilling to break the intimate connection she’d started.
“When you saw me… at the club that night,” she said, her eyes wavering just slightly. “What was it you saw in me? I mean, was it just the clothes?”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even though I’d said we’d never speak of what happened that drunken night two weeks ago, I saw something in her eyes that needed an answer.
That needed something more.
“Why are you asking?”
“It’s nothing, sorry. I’m being stupid,” she backpedaled, as she began fiddling with the hem of her skirt.
Looking back at our few interactions, I suddenly noticed the difference in how she’d acted today. Her normal never-ending stream of word vomit was there, but behind it, there was an internal struggle going on. The hemline wasn’t the first thing she’d fidgeted with. I’d watched as she’d pulled at the collar of her shirt and then, as if she’d realized what she had done was wrong, quickly lay it flat again.
“Does this have something to do with the way you’re dressed today?”
Pink tinged her cheeks once again.
“You noticed?”
I simply nodded, not trusting myself with words in that moment.
Because I’d more than noticed. It’d been damn hard not to think about anything but.
“A gift from my boyfriend,” she replied. “He said my old clothes didn’t fit in with our new life style. It was a very generous gift,” she added, never forgetting that politeness she’d no doubt been taught since birth.
“But?” I questioned, waiting for her to continue.
“But… I don’t feel like me anymore,” she finally admitted.
“And I’m guessing the night in the club was another gift of his as well?”
It was her turn to nod.
I could see the indecision and worry gnawing at her. Someone like her, sweet, honest and good… she was meant for better things than a life with a man who didn’t appreciate her.
Leaning forward, I made sure she saw the sincerity burning in my eyes as I spoke. “That night in the club, I’ll admit, I noticed the dress first.”
She opened her lips to speak but I held up my hand to stop her, wanting to make my point.
“And today, when you walked in, I couldn’t help but give a second… or third glance at the way that new skirt hugged your ass.”
Her eyes widened at my blatant honesty.
“So yes, the clothes may grab my attention for a moment or two, but the fact that I’m still interested, two weeks later? That’s you, Cara. That’s all you.”
And just like that, I’d crossed the line.
I’d hit on an employee.
And there was no going back from that.
Copyright J.L. Berg 2016
National Arthritis Month!
I know what you’re thinking…the title of this blog has nothing to do with books. And yes, you would be correct. Mostly.
In most cases, the words arthritis and romance books don’t usually go hand in hand, but in my daily life…they are basically best friends.
In December 2014, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) or Rheumatoid disease. RA is an autoimmune disease that affects nearly 1.3 million Americans and causes severe joint pain, damage and immobility. Other symptoms include extreme fatigue, muscle pain and even heart disease.
Since it is #ArthritisAwarenessMonth I thought I’d share my story so that anyone who stumbles upon this searching for answers might find some sort of solace knowing there are others out there struggling along with them.
In October 2014, my family and I spent a week in San Francisco. My husband and I are originally from the Central Coast of California, and coming back to the Wet Coast is always nostalgic for us. We played tourists with the kids and let the grandparents spoil them for days on end. We walked, and walked and walked and I never complained. It was a typical vacation and I was loving life.
When we got home, I began gearing up for a signing the next month. Off and on during the weeks leading up the the signing, I remember telling my husband how I kept feeling like I was coming down with the flu. I felt achy everywhere and tired. But just as soon as I was convinced I was indeed sick, the symptoms would disappear. This pattern continued for much of November.
By December I was concerned. I hurt everywhere. Like old lady level hurt. I was thirty-three at the time and in fairly good shape thanks to a love of yoga and pilates. There was no reason I should hurt so much. So off to the doctor I went. I won’t get into how long it took to diagnose me, but it was several doctors, appointments and blood tests later. They tested me for everything from Lupus to Lyme disease.
But by the New Year, I had my diagnosis. Rheumatoid Arthritis.
To me, a full time writer who wrote thousands of words a day…this was a death sentence. I thought for sure my career was over.
I was started right away on Methotrexate…the go-to drug for RA and told to wait and see. I would learn this was going to be my new life. Wait and see…wait and see.
I won’t bore you with all the specific. If you want them (drugs I failed, etc–email me) but I went through a year or more of wait and see. It was one of the most frustrating times of my life.
Nothing worked. Every drug I tried, everything my doctor did…nothing worked. I was kept me on prednisone as a precaution. If anyone reading this has ever been on prednisone long term, I know you’re rolling your eyes and saying something like “Bless her heart” right about now. In less than a year, I’d gained sixty pounds from this drug. I felt like I was living in someone else’s skin. After I turned my required manuscripts into my publisher, my writing schedule went to shit and the simple task of getting out of bed seemed monumental. I hurt everywhere, was frustrated and yes, I was severely depressed. I was in a bad place.
I finally went to my doctor and said, “enough is enough.”
With her help, I weened myself off the prednisone. That alone was a huge help. I realized the prednisone not only was destroying my body, but my mind too.
Since then, I’ve found a drug that works for me, and I’ve entered remission. I know this isn’t permanent, and I know not every day will be sunshine and roses, but things are looking up. Finally.
In my rather short journey with an incurable disease, I’ve discovered so many things about myself, my family and those around me. There will be those who step up and support you, no matter what. My husband basically ran our entire household for the better part of a year, never expecting anything in return. Sadly though, there were those in my life who disappeared, choosing to walk away, rather than understand what might be going on in my life. I’ve also made valuable friendships with others who fight, and I know, because of that, when my fingers start to ache or I can’t sleep because of the pain, they are out there right along side me.
I’ve had friends complain about one thing or another in their life to me over the past year, and the immediately revoke their statement, saying something like, “But that’s not as bad as your pain I’m sure.”
My response is this. Everyone suffers. Everyone has pain. It’s how we deal with it that makes us stronger.
Let’s all be strong together.
If you’d like more information on Arthritis, please visit the Arthritis Foundation. If you’d like more information specifically on Rheumatoid Arthritis, please visit The May Clinic.
XOXO,
Jenn