About the Book
Forty something, self-proclaimed cougar, Rebecca is committed only to her cats and her career. Her veteran single girl lifestyle has been peaceful and happy – that is until she started dating age-appropriate Steve, an entomology professor with a sweet smile and demeanor to match. Who knew an insect scientist could be so appealing?
The problem? Steve is a widower with baggage to spare. Memories of his late wife fill his home. Smiling photos and jars of bugs serve as constant reminders of Steve’s continued attachment to his dearly departed wife, Noreen, who shared his passion for creepy crawlies!
Now that Rebecca is facing her commitment phobia by moving in with Steve, she is becoming more unhinged. Behaving more like her zany friends than her level-headed self, she burns her butt at the tanning salon, crashes on energy drinks, and even loses a hamster. Throw into the mix a few delusional relatives, a sarcastic teenager, and a fluffy dog who sheds a new dog every day, and Rebecca doesn’t recognize her old self.
And if that isn’t enough to push her over the edge, her smokin’ hot ex returns, reminding her of a simpler time with a man who carries no more baggage than a wallet.
Book 2 is a STANDALONE novel, as well as a continuation of the wacky and relatable saga of the ladies of Rom-Com on the Edge.
Carol Maloney Scott, author of the Rom-Com on the Edge series, is a frazzled new bride and wiener dog fanatic. She is a lover of donuts, and a hater of mornings. Recently unearthing a childhood passion for writing, she can once again be seen carrying around a notebook and staring into space. Her stories are witty, fresh and real, just like life.
Join her on “The Edge” for giveaways, cover reveals, excerpts, contest and members-only content atcarolmaloneyscott.com/
Read an Excerpt!
I spot him right away. If he just leaned against the doorframe like that on a night when anyone was actually out, he would have women hanging off his limbs like ants on a hamburger at a picnic. That makes me wonder if Steve has an ant colony in his house.
How could Luke possibly have gotten better looking? I sigh all the way up from my toes. The perfect black hair, and SO much of it. His collar is open, revealing his perfectly toned chest with just a little bit of hair peeking out. His shoulders are huge! Were they always that big? I’m staring like an idiot, but he doesn’t see me yet. He’s looking at his phone. The stubble on his face. For the love of God, couldn’t he at least shave? He does get five o’clock shadow by noon. Now he spots me, and stands up to his full height. All six foot, three inches of dark, hot Portuguese blooded…
He puts his arms out and a slow smile creeps over his face. “Rebecca. You look beautiful. Even more than I remember.” He closes the distance between us and wraps me in a firm, but soft embrace.
I melt, but I haven’t turned into a noodle, since I’m still standing. “Hi, Luke. You look great, too. I can’t believe you’re back.”
He looks into my eyes and says, “I know. I can’t believe it, either.” He pulls me close again and now his hands are on my sides. I do not want him feeling my fat. There is no way he doesn’t see how much weight I’ve gained, but I don’t want him to have physical confirmation.
I break contact and gesture to the bar. “Let’s go inside. I can’t stay long. I have an early day tomorrow, but I want to hear all about the news.”
He holds the door for me, and as I duck under his arm to enter the dimly lit establishment, he says in my ear, “Yes, I want to share my plans.”
We walk to the bar and my eyes scan the room for anyone I know. It’s almost empty. Whew. New places never attract a huge crowd on a weeknight. They need karaoke or some other entertainment. Assessing the bar’s marketing strategy, I turn back to Luke. “Your plans?” I blink hard and swallow harder.
“Yep, plans. What would you like to drink? Still a wine drinker?” He flashes his perfect TV guy smile and I forget the English language. I do, however remember him saying “Eu te amo” while kissing the inner…
A swift head shake and I’m back. I hold onto the bar and respond, “Yes, sounds good.” This isn’t a “wine” type bar, but the bartender goes off to fetch some kind of alcohol. I don’t even know what Luke ordered. I am getting pissed at my lack of self-control. I’m acting like Claire. He’s just a man and I’ve been with many. Well, not that many, but I am forty-six. That’s thirty years of men!
Steve loves me. I begin to repeat those words in my head, like a mantra. Eu te amo. Why does “I love you” sound sexier in foreign languages?
The bartender brings our wine and Luke raises his glass. “A toast. To reunions.” I clink his glass and take a sip of wine. Luke adds, “And new beginnings.” Good thing I just took a sip and swallowed it quick.
“Are you okay? Was it something I said?” He is eyeing me mischievously as I cough into a napkin. Now I remember the downside of his charm. Those black hooded eyes and the cleft chin make it hard to concentrate on the bad parts. None of which are visible.
“I’m fine.” I take another small sip of wine to prove it. “So, why did you come back here? You had a great thing going on Entertainment Nightly.”
“I did, but it was all fluff. I need to do something of substance with my life.” He leans in and says, “You understand, minha querida.” My dear. I may have forgotten what a pain in the ass he can be, but I also forgot how easy it is to fall under the spell of this language.
He goes on to explain how he left the show and wanted to return to Richmond. “It was always a place of great creativity and passion for me.” He smiles seductively and my insides melt. Never mind what’s happening to my outsides.
I finger the bar napkin and steady my glass with the other hand. “Are you really writing a screenplay? I don’t remember you being a writer.” I narrow my eyes quizzically, then gasp as I realize that I just admitted to doing further research on him. “My neighbor noticed you on the news, and mentioned it.”
“My little party girl. You probably don’t even own a TV.” I glare at him in a playful way and he continues. “Okay, you probably do own one, but no cable, right?”
I nod. “So, how long have you been back?”
“It’s been about a month.”
I look down at my right hand diamond, purchased right after we broke up. “Violet and I did some Google searches. We also found some other…less flattering information.”
He puts down his wine glass, leans his elbows on the bar, and forms a steeple with his long, strong fingers. His beautiful, stubbly chin rests in the cradle. “Ah, yes. The rumors. You know me, Rebecca.”