Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I’m fucked.
“It’s my own fault,” I mutter, stabbing the tape on the box of the newest shipment with my nails to open it. “I set myself up for failure, thinking I’ll get what I read about.”
“I mean, if it’s written, it’s doable, yeah?”
I shrug. “Well, you let me know if you come across a dragon with two cocks,” I throw at her, and she snorts, her cute little nose wrinkling with the sound. I love my sister, and I’m so thankful that she is living this life with me. Our second chance.
“Technically, human men, they can do more. They just choose not to because they’re selfish.”
I point to my wise younger sister. “Exactly. But you know what? This is actually Austen’s fault.”
That has Eliza cackling. Our perfect younger sister isn’t to blame. Yes, she may have introduced me to the world of romance, where men fall to their knees for their ladies, and because of her, my shop, Dirty Pages, was born. But my unrealistic expectations of men are my own fault. There isn’t a man out there who will worship me or have two cocks. They don’t exist, and the sooner I realize this, the better off I’ll be.
“Austen is the reason you have this shop, for one. And for two, I feel you keep picking duds.”
“You think?” I deadpan.
She grins, her hazel eyes dancing with laughter. We favor each other a lot, both with dark hair, though hers has more blond throughout it—that she paid for—while mine is the same dark brown it’s always been. My eyes are multicolored hazel, and Eliza’s are pure hazel. Our faces are round and our eyes wide-set, framed with dark lashes. She has a lush mouth, whereas my lips are thinner.
We used to be the skinniest of all our sisters, but that was mainly because we gave the younger ones our food growing up. It was always Eliza and me against everyone, protecting our sisters. Our mother wasn’t a mother; she was a carrier, and we raised the girls. We took the brunt of the abuse to protect our younger sisters, and I don’t regret a damn thing. It fills me with pride to know my sisters are thriving, to know they are safe and loved.
Since coming to Knoxville, Eliza and I have gained weight, but I think it’s healthy and shows we’re healing. After living in a cult our whole lives, where meals weren’t always provided if you misbehaved, I am aware that having access to food whenever I want is proudly showing on my hips and tummy. I’ve never had a little gut, but I do now, and I don’t care. I’m happy.
Even if the only way I get off is from my own fingers or whichever toy is charged.
If I remember to charge it.
Pathetic.
“So, are you done with online dating?”
I give her a sideways glance. “Eliza, we live in a small-ass town where everyone hates us. Who am I supposed to sleep with here?”
Eliza rolls her eyes, but she knows I’m right. Our peepaw, the man who saved us from our mother and the physical abuse that the cult brought down on us, moved us to Knoxville, Tennessee, where he has built a hockey arena in the middle of a small neighboring town. Blitz is outside of Knoxville, and it’s Christmas year-round. One would think the locals would be stoked to have a hockey team and a place where hockey fans can come spend their money, but they’re not. They hate my grandfather, and they especially hate me now that I’ve opened a bookstore that carries only romance books.
Apparently, no one in this town has smutty romance books on their Christmas list.
Well, some do, but they claim they don’t and enter through the back door. I find it hilarious, but I only laugh once the payment is made and they’re out of the shop.
“Hockey players are coming, my sweet sister. Be patient,” Eliza calls to me from where she leans on the front counter. Behind her is a wall of flowers and greenery with “Dirty Pages” in scripty neon lights in the middle. It’s a popular photo spot, but for me, it’s where I work most of the time. While I’d rather cuddle up in one of the chairs and read all day, I have to make sure the shop is stocked and I score the best special editions. Bookworms go nuts for special editions.
It’s me; I’m one of the bookworms.
I meet my sister’s gaze and shake my head. She is my best friend, and my life wouldn’t be the same without her, but sometimes I wonder about her. “And we’ve been warned not to sleep with any of them, especially after Austen went off and got engaged to one.”
Eliza grins, and I can’t help it; I do too. Our sister is living in bliss with her hunky hockey player in Nashville, Tennessee, one she was never supposed to get involved with. After a mix-up with housing, our virginal sister found herself sharing an apartment with a devilishly sexy man. She had been sent to Nashville to learn how to run a team in preparation for being the GM for the Knoxville Bears. And she was supposed to come back here, but once Dimitri Titov set his eyes on my baby sister and made her his, she was a goner.