Title: Loving is Good
romance / new adult
Mendoza is not living La Vida Loca. She put her graduate studies on hold after
her father died. Now she dishes out advice in her e-zine column, Luna Love,
Loving is Good. The problem is, she hasn’t had a second date or a kiss in over
a year. Then Gabe Mercer, a modern-day Adonis, shows up, daring her to take a
chance. The string of broken hearts in his wake turns Celia off, but his
relentless encouragement to pursue her dream of becoming a serious journalist
contradicts his reputation, making it hard to fight the pull of his topaz,
come-hither eyes. He’s everything Luna Love tells her readers to take a chance
on, but Celia can’t decide if a chance encounter is worth the gamble. But life
has a will of its own, and hers is pushing Celia to accept the uncertainty and
run towards her destiny.
quirky, strong women, with non-formulaic endings because life isn’t always
perfect. She writes by the light of the moon and between conference calls. She
has aspirations for a fully staffed villa in Barcelona and funding aplenty for
a room of her own. When she’s not working on a story, she
writes love letters to the universe, dead poets, and Mae West. You can find her
at http://www.brendamoguez.com and https://www.facebook.com/BrendaMoguez, where
she explores passionate pursuits in all its forms.
I wished for lightning to strike me dead. Alone with a sexy man and being summoned by my mom made me feel five all over again.
“Mommy’s calling. I wouldn’t mess with her if I were you. She’s feisty like you.”
“Why are you here? Don’t you have a job, a life, a woman to string along?” My bravado was waning, and the grip I had around my upper chest was cutting off circulation to my heart and making it difficult to breathe.
Or maybe that was Gabe. I wasn’t certain. I released my arms and gave my body a little wiggle.
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. You don’t know me, either.”
“Bite me!” I snarled.
“I’m trying. You’re not letting me close enough to sniff.” His smile only widened.
I gave him one of Mom’s evil-eye glares, hoping it would bore holes in his chest, but he only laughed again.
“You’re sexy when you get mad. What are you like when you’re purring like a kitten?” His eyes were blazing, and his smile sparked of sensuality.
I was losing it. My hormones were off the Richter scale. “That’s pathetic. Is that the best you have? I’m not one of the admins at the office, Gabe. Give it up. I told you before. I’m not interested in an office fling. I’m a serious journalist.” I wasn’t able to get that last line out without smiling.
“Uh-huh. You’re not very convincing.” His square shoulders and slightly tilted head thawed the last of my reserve.
I weakened. “OK. Why are you really here?”
“Honestly, to see if my photos helped your mom and aunt. I had a good time last week, took a few photos, got Jackson to write up a blurb, and we ran it. Looks like you’re going to have a busy night.”