Blurb:
Starr Media Second-Assistant Survival Guide
- Don’t call your hot boss the antichrist to his face.
2. Don’t stare at hot boss’s, um, package or his full sleeve of tattoos. (No. Really. Stop!)
3. Don’t get on the malicious first assistant’s bad side.
4. Don’t forget to memorize the 300-page employee manual.
5. If you value your cashmere, steer clear of boss’s dog.
6. Boss’s dimples are lust-inducing. Do. Not. Give. In.
7. “The elevator ate your clothes” is not a valid excuse for showing up to important meetings half dressed.
8. Don’t break seven of the rules within the first week of employment if you, ya know, are in dire need of money to support your sick mom.
9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the boss. See rule eight about sick mom.
10. Never forget the rules.
Review:
Are you laughing or at least smiling as you read the 10-rule blurb above? If yes, then you have to read the rest of this book.
I normally shy away from books with the “new adult” tag, but this one doesn’t have all the heavy drama and angst I associate with that genre. It was a light-hearted romantic comedy. Heavy on the comedy! I seriously laughed out loud many, many times. I’m going through all the parts and quotes I highlighted and if I share them all with you this review will be longer than some books.
Lainey Taylor is starting her very first post-college, grown-up job as second assistant to the CEO at Starr Media, Brogan Starr. The hot CEO with tattoos and amazing dimples and oh, somewhere around 750 rules. No, really. The employee manual has about 750 rules that every employee must learn and memorize.
Pretty much, working at Starr Media was the equivalent of being part of Fight Club. Heavy emphasis on the first rule.
But a hot boss makes it hard to follow some of the rules. Or, a lot of them
He cleared his throat.
Warning bells blared between my ears. Abort mission. Move your eyes up before he thinks you’re staring at his package. Which, let’s face it, I totally was.
Dear readers, we haven’t even made it past day one yet! The humor and the chemistry kept me turning pages. This is one of those stories you’ll find hard to put down. You will love the heroine, Lainey. She’s smart and funny and her inner dialog is hilarious and on point. You’ll want to be her best friend.
My only complaint is the closed-door sex scenes. It was a bit of a let down after all the build up between Lainey and Brogan and it made it confusing as to when their actual first time having sex happened. But it’s a minor complaint, the rest of the book is fan-freaking-fantastic. Even the dog with a gas problem!
Four Loves
Excerpt
I sat down at the table and unwrapped the Panini and frowned. Breadsticks would have hit the spot. Although, no amount of breadsticks was worth giving up a steady income, not even Luigi’s. Still, I gave a spiteful glare to my sandwich.
Just in time to take me out of my garlic grieving, someone walked into the break room. The first thing I noticed was his hair. You could tell a lot about someone based off the length and style. And the clean-cut, lightly-styled golden brown hair that the guy in the plain black tee sported spoke volumes. It said “I look like I’m not trying too hard, but I carefully crafted this look of perfection for at least fifteen minutes this morning.”
The second thing I noticed was this guy should be reamed for violating the dress code policy. Not that I was complaining—because, really, those tatted biceps deserved to be on full display at all times.
I mentally catalogued everyone I’d spotted during Jackson’s drive-by office tour. He most definitely wasn’t part of that whirlwind of name-drops, because I’d remember those high cheekbones. And those tattoos. His arms were covered from each wrist with intricate markings, disappearing under the sleeve of his T-shirt. Some were words, some were pictures I couldn’t quite piece together without creepily staring at him. Decidedly, all were hot as hell.
He smiled at me and walked over to the water cooler. He procured a teabag from his pocket, plopped it into his black coffee mug, and filled it with water. The glug glug glug of the cooler cut through the silence, and I quickly swallowed my bite of turkey sandwich, preparing myself for if this guy wanted to talk—unlike the last five people who took one look into the break room, saw evidence of human life, and booked it to the elevator before I could even manage a hello. For people working at a social media agency, they were oddly…antisocial.
“You’re new here.” It was a statement. One that held the suggestion that this happened more often than my purchases from ShoeBinge.com. I’d deleted the app from my phone the minute I learned Mom’s diagnosis a month ago and was still thinking about those rhinestone heels.
“Second day.” I smiled. Finally. Someone to talk to. Besides Jackson and his awesome ability to give the evil eye over his computer screen.
“How are you liking it so far?” The muscles in his bicep bunched together as he took a sip of his tea. Ovaries, meet arm porn, your new best friend.
I folded the wax paper of my sandwich wrapper in half and creased the seam with my thumb. “It’s been nice. I made it through the employee manual…finally.”
“Learn anything good?”
I looked up from the wrapper and eyed him. “You’re breaking the dress code in at least two ways.”
He looked down at his clothes and then back at me, smiling. Two dimples indented his cheeks, and I realized how incredibly unfair it was that someone could be that gorgeous and not airbrushed by professionals in a magazine.
“Guess I am.”
“You’ve met the boss. What’s he like? Uptight like that rule book?”
His lips tipped up in one corner as he regarded me with his piercing brown eyes. “I don’t know if uptight would be my first choice.”
I chuckled. “Really? I hear he’s called the Antichrist.”
His brows rose. “Oh, really. That one’s new to me.”
“Huh.” I fiddled with the wrapper. “Jackson said it was a pretty well-known nickname around the office.” Maybe the guy worked in a different department than everyone else. Heck, he was a lot nicer than all the other employees I’d (not) talked to yesterday and today.
He let out a loud laugh that echoed throughout the break room. “Very interesting. Thanks for the heads up.” He grabbed the string to the tea bag and absentmindedly dunked it in the water. Veins corded deliciously up his arms and my brain went into zombie mode. Except instead of my inner monologue chanting must eat brains, it was must touch veeeeeeeins. “What’s your name?” he asked, bringing me out of my stupor.
I cleared my throat, heat tingeing my cheeks. “Lainey Taylor. Newly appointed second assistant to the Antichrist.”
Mr. Dimples mashed his lips together, and I couldn’t tell if the glint in his eyes was because he was amused or slightly annoyed. Maybe a bit of both. Great, I guess I was back to square one with making friends here. He backed toward the door and leaned against the frame. Really odd. Where I came from, people tended to give their name after someone else introduced themselves. This guy? Nada. I doubted 200 exits up the I-5 corridor were enough to see a shift in social customs.
He bit down on his full bottom lip and looked like he was really enjoying this awkward silence that had me squirming in my seat. I balled up the sandwich wrapper just to give my hands something to do. Really, these people needed to work on their social skills. Where was the welcoming committee? Mental note: start welcome committee if one doesn’t exist.
“It’s really nice meeting you, Lainey,” he said.
He put his hand on the doorframe, and just before he left the room, I called, “Do I get your name?”
“You can call me the Antichrist.” And with that, he breezed out into the hallway and disappeared into his office.
My heart screeched to a halt, and that turkey Panini turned to a solid brick in the bottom of my stomach.
Shit.
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About the author:
Jennifer Blackwood is an English teacher and contemporary romance author. She lives in Oregon with her husband, son, and poorly behaved black lab puppy. She is the author of The Drexler University series, the Rule Breaker series (May 2016 and Jan 2017) and an upcoming Brazen series (July 2016 and early 2017)
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Craft beer and the sexy men who brew it.
About J. Sterling:
After several years on the other side of the publishing industry, Sara Jane Stone bid goodbye to her sales career to pursue her dream – writing romance novels. Armed with a firm belief that dreams do come true, Sara Jane sat down at her keyboard to write fun, sexy stories like the ones she loved to read.
Originally a Florida girl, CHANEL CLEETON moved to London where she received a bachelor’s degree from Richmond, The American International University in London and a master’s degree from the London School of Economics and Political Science. Chanel fell in love with London and planned to stay there forever, until fate intervened on a Caribbean cruise and a fighter pilot with smooth dance moves swept her off her feet. Now, a happily ever after later, Chanel is living her next adventure.
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About Lauren Blakely: