Five GREAT Excuses to Get Out of Work so You Can Finish Your Juicy Romance Novel
Every so often you pick up a book that you absolutely cannot put down. You don’t just want to find out what happens, you NEEEED to know! The quality of your existence is diminished until you reach your prize…the end. Dinner ends up being leftover spaghetti, you tell yourself laundry can wait (you always did like it when your hubby went commando), and your hair, well, didn’t the stylist tell you on your last visit that washing it every day is bad? You fall asleep (if you actually go to bed) dreaming of the characters and wake up pining for them.
But what if you haven’t finished yet and have to go to the office? Or drive the kids to school and soccer practice? You’ll just die if you don’t finish that book!! You know you will!!
On the rarest of rare occasions that you are forced to lie on behalf of your sanity, here are some handy excuses that might land you a Get-Out-of-Work Card:
5. SOLAR FLARE PHOBIA. Scientists and New Agers alike have been saying for years that global unrest increases with solar flare activity. What better excuse is there than suddenly developing a case of Solar Flare Phobia where you must stay at home? In case you were wondering, there are solar flares every day. So handy!
4. FIND A HOLIDAY AND MAKE IT YOURS! Have you ever looked at how many holidays there are every day around the world? If not, there’s EarthCalendar.net. Chances are on any given day, you’ll find a great holiday worthy of observance by reading a romance novel. March 20th…World Frog Day. Who in their right mind can mock the frog and work on such a glorious day?
3. DECLARE PERSONAL FORCE MAJEURE. Hey, large companies do it all the time for even the smallest of issues that are clearly not “acts of God.” The conversation goes something like this: “I have fallen victim to a force outside my control (a really, really hot hero in leather pants); therefore, I must be released of all contractual obligations (i.e. writing that boring report) until the event has passed.”
2. YOU’VE BEEN EXPOSED TO A HORRIBLE, VERY, VERY CONTAGEOUS VIRUS. And it will take exactly 400 pages to find out if you have contracted it. In the meantime, quarantine is the best course of action!
- CRAMPS. No explanation needed.
HAPPY READING EVERYONE!
That was hysterical, Mimi. Thanks so much! Before I tell give readers a taste of Accidentally in Love With a God, I have a surprise. Mimi is giving away a copy of her book to one lucky commenter!! Limber up those typing fingers and read on!
Twenty-two-year-old Emma Keane has a secret friend. He’s powerful, mysterious, and devastatingly handsome. In her dreams, anyway.
In real life, he’s an enigma. Maybe just a teensie jealous. Definitely overbearing. He’s also a voice only she can hear.
So who or what is he? He won’t say. But if she wants to be free, to be normal, Emma will have to trek to the jungles once ruled by the Mayans and find the forgotten ruin holding the answers.
However, the ruthless deity she’s about to unknowingly unleash on the modern world might not be so easily extracted from her life. Bottom line, he’s got enemies, and now, so does she.
Chapter 1 – Present Day
Wasn’t dating supposed to be fun? Because this was anything but. At any moment, a man I’d never met—approximately six-foot-three, brown hair, and soul-piercing blue eyes, according to his online profile—would walk through the door of the Conga Lounge, give his name to the hostess, and scream hysterically at the sight of me. Okay. He wouldn’t scream. Aloud, anyway. Not that I was heinous, but anyone who looked closely enough might notice I was…different.
I eyeballed the door, contemplating making a mad dash before he arrived.
No, you can do this, I thought while staring at the condensation channeling down my glass of water, my leg bouncing under the table. Why had my date picked a corny theme-bar that looked like Gilligan’s Island threw up? What sort of man goes novelty on the first date? Bad sign. Bad sign.
At least the other patrons—seated around the faux-torch lit room, leisurely sipping Bahama Mama’s and Mai Tai’s—were oblivious to my impending meltdown.
I felt the gentle whoosh of summer evening air as the door swung open and the noise from the traffic-packed New York street poured in. A tall man with sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and tousled brown hair floated in—yes, floated—as if he’d ridden in on a cloud straight from Hot-Man Land. He wore a black polished-cotton shirt, which hugged his well-constructed chest, and low slung jeans that molded to his lean physique. He wasn’t just good looking, he was Milan runway edible.
“Oh, sweet Virgin of Guadalupe, please be Jake,” I muttered under my breath.
Like a cliché from a movie, our eyes met from across the room, and his face lit up with a dimple-framed smile. My heart nearly stopped. “Thank you, Virgin,” I said, releasing my breath.
He strutted across the restaurant, a magnet for every female in the room.
“Emma?” he said in a deep slow-churned voice then smiled and held out his hand. I stood up in a daze, mentally pinching myself.
“You are Emma, right? Curly, shoulder-length, red hair, five-three. Several crazed female stalkers for best friends?”
Oh, no. What had my roommates done? Since the whole online-blind-date thing was their idea, they assured me they’d carefully “screened” the guy. But I thought they were just joking about breaking into his apartment and rummaging through his underwear drawer. And dammit, they hadn’t even bothered to dish. Tighty whities or boxers?
I looked down at his outstretched hand. Oh, shoot. Shake hands. “Sorry, it’s just—I wasn’t expecting someone so…” I swallowed and placed my palm in his. It was warm and inviting, just like his eyes. “Um…so tall.”
“And I wasn’t expecting a woman so…” He paused to look me over like a dog eyeing a giant juicy steak. “…adorable.”
“Adorable?” said the deep male voice inside my head. “What kind of moron compliments a woman with the word ‘adorable’? Does he think you’re a goddamned puppy?”
Couldn’t I have one, just one lousy day without the voice? My blood began to boil instantly, but I resisted the urge to snap back with something lame like, “Well, maybe Jake senses I want to lick him from head to toe. Maybe even have a go at his leg.” But then I thought better of myself. Because tonight, I was on a mission, and nothing would stop me from climbing my own mental Mt. Everest: convince myself that I, Emma Keane, could feel attraction for a real live man with ten fingers, ten toes, arms and legs, and the other necessary dangly bits needed to make a relationship normal. All I needed was the right man.
The other person I needed to prove this to wasn’t exactly a person. Okay—truth be told, he was a mysterious voice only I could hear. Yes. A luscious, deep velvety voice so seductive that it could turn me into a quivering mindless puddle of need with one little sigh. Sound crazy? That wasn’t the half of it. But it was why I had to do this. If I wanted a shot at normal, I had to take this first step.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Before taking up a permanent residence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mimi spent time living near NYC (became a shopaholic), in Mexico City (developed a taste for very spicy food), and Arizona (now hates jumping chollas, but pines for sherbet sunsets). Her love of pre-Hispanic culture, big cities, and romance inspires her to write when she’s not busy with kids, work, and life…or getting sucked into a juicy novel.
She hopes that someday, leather pants for men will make a big comeback and that her writing might make you laugh when you need it most.
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