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Ideal Image is the second full-length Snapshot novel that KT Dove and I have been working on!

In Ideal Image, Anastasia Gustafson (Ben’s younger sister if you remember yummy Ben!!) will find her match! But not without a battle for her life, and her loved ones.

***Please keep reading for an EXCLUSIVE excerpt!

The cover reveal is scheduled for September 15th and the book release for October 18th!

BLOGGERS!!!

Along with Enticing Journey, we are preparing a Cover Reveal, and Release Blitz, and Amazon Review Tour for Book 2 in the Snapshot series,  Ideal Image.

***Review copies are available for the novella Shutterspeed and book 1 Freeze Frame now.

We would truly appreciate if you could sign up to help us share these events. We realize your dockets are full and want to thank you for your time and support.

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In one blinding flash, the very fiber of her existence is shredded. For criminal lawyer and single mother, Stacie Gustafson, a dependable career, a well-organized life, and an immaculate image, had always been her armor. Without it, she’s left exposed and struggling to create a new existence for her and her daughter. No matter how hard she tries, she is unable to avoid her history.

All it takes is one look at the blue-eyed woman, for Nicolas Flynn to be transported back ten years. Sure, her appearance has changed, but then so has his, since he turned his life around. His devotion to his small-town law firm is tested with the arrival of this bittersweet blast from the past, making for a persistent distraction. One that drags along more trouble than she left behind.

♦♦ Exclusive Excerpt ♦♦

I’d known last week when I almost ran into her—or rather she almost ran into me—that my attempts to avoid her wouldn’t last.

What I didn’t expect was the sharp tongue lashing I got.

Not entirely undeserved, as I realize after the initial shock wears off. After all, I did rather rudely avoid looking at her at the wedding, although that was mostly out of self-preservation than anything else. She’s still fucking gorgeous and as expected, my IQ dropped significantly in her presence.

To her, I’m sure, it would have come off as rude, to say the least, but I’m shocked to find she assumed I found her repulsive. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I observed her during dinner. Mulled about how impossible it would be to continue to try and ignore her. And finally deciding that perhaps the right way to look at this would be to see it as a very fortuitous second chance. The one thing Mom told me time and time again, was that if you aren’t open to possibilities, opportunities will pass you by.

Stacie is not the kind of opportunity you let pass by.

The waitress conveyed my musical request to the DJ and the moment I heard the first keystrokes of the piano, I was out of my chair.

She smells amazing.

Even just leaning over her, the light hint of lime and maybe vanilla is enough to make my mouth water.

I don’t give her a chance to refuse and don’t even try to fight the smile on my lips when I wrap her in my arms. I have her hand pressed against my chest and I wonder if she can feel the thundering of my heart.

It’s pathetic, really. I’m a forty-year-old man, behaving like a teenager scoring a dance with his crush on prom night.

“Why?”

I barely hear her mumbled question, she’s speaking so softly.

“Why what?”

“I don’t understand,” she says, slowly lifting her face. “You could barely stand to look at me a few months ago. And now you’re staring at me all through dinner, and ask me to dance? Why? Is this a bet or something?”

I can feel my blood heating as, “Are you for fucking real?” flies from my mouth unchecked.  Stacie takes a step back, looking alarmed, but I have my arm still firmly around her waist. Taking a deep breath in I try to calm myself down. “Look, I…” For a moment I contemplate explaining my behavior to her, but I’m afraid right now it will only make her more, and not less weary of me. “All I want is a dance, and a chance to get to know you a little. If I’ve done something to offend you, I can assure you it was unintended.” I watch as her eyes soften a little, but not quite all the way. “As for my behavior tonight, it’s not often I get slapped down like that, and you also happen to look beautiful, so yeah, you piqued my interest. It’s possible I may have been staring a little,” I add with a self-deprecating smile.

“A little?” she snorts, taking a step closer and moving to the music again. “I was afraid I’d grown an extra eyeball on my forehead or something.”

“On the contrary,” I correct her. “You’re quite beautiful. It was hard to look away.” I can feel right away it was the wrong thing to say. I wish she wouldn’t make me forget every smooth line and move I’ve mastered over the years, and have me behave like the shy farm boy I once was.

“Don’t insult my intelligence with your flattery, Mr. Flynn. I am well aware of my appearance.” Her tone slices, making it clear that I will have my hands full convincing her that I mean every word.

“But you don’t know what I see.”

© Freya Barker & KT Dove – Ideal Image