Magan Vernon's Blog, page 2

HeartBreaker Prologue and Giveaway!

Prologue

Sixteen Years Earlier

The curtain finally closed on
the show I’d been on since I was eight years old.

Which meant now I had more
freedom to do movies or whatever the hell else I wanted.

That is, if someone would
fucking hire me.

But since I wasn’t working and
had a nice cash pile to sit on, the last six months without an acting gig was
full of a lot of everything I didn’t know I was missing in young Hollywood
until the velvet rope opened for me.

Maybe a little too much, if my
headache and the fact I was sleeping on my sofa in nothing but my boxers, a
pair of wool socks, and some mystery sticky substance on my chest.

I ran my fingers over it,
sniffed them.

Okay, just chocolate syrup.

How the hell did that get there?

As if the pounding in my head
and sticky chest wasn’t enough, my phone had been ringing nonstop.

With my eyes still closed, I
reached for the cordless on the table next to me, turning it on, only to
realize I hadn’t charged it.

Fuck. The other phone was all
the way in the kitchen.

Dodging empty bottles and
crumpled papers, I made my way through the living room of my L.A. penthouse and
to the large kitchen that wasn’t used for cooking anything unless my mom came
out. Which she hadn’t been since I bought the place as soon as I turned
eighteen.

First and last time she cooked
in it.

I pulled my arms into my chest,
my hands shaking as I thought about her.

Was this a call coming from
Dallas that something was wrong back home?

Glancing at my caller ID, I let
out a small breath when I saw my agent, Steph’s, number flash across the
screen.

Maybe this was finally my call
back on the superhero movie.

Standing up straighter, I
cleared my throat before taking the phone off the receiver and putting it to my
ear. “Hey, Steph, got good news for me?”

“Where the heck have you been?
I’ve been calling all morning,” her thick Southern accent practically spat
through the receiver.

“Uh, you know, slept in a little
and got a workout in. I was in the shower when you called.” The lies slipped quickly
off my tongue. Almost too easily.

I guess that’s what acting since
I was in the womb got me: excellent lying skills.

“Well, get your tail down to my
office. We have some things to discuss. Brent’s already here waiting, and Trish
is on her way.”

I froze, the hair on the back of
my neck standing on end.

Brent was my entertainment
lawyer, and the last time the three of us sat down together was when the
network announced the cancelation of my show.

But that didn’t include Trish,
the woman who played my mom on the sitcom for the last ten years.

The one who I may or may not
have gotten dirty with at the final cast party.

So, she was twenty years older
than me and had played my mom; she was still pretty good-looking. And with all
the booze and whatever else was getting passed around backstage, I’m sure we
weren’t the only ones hooking up.

“Okay,” I said, swallowing hard,
trying to ignore the sickening feeling crawling through my stomach. “I’ll be
there ASAP.”

We hung up, and I quickly
showered whatever sticky substance was off of me before throwing on a T-shirt
and jeans, then jogged down to the parking garage where my Lambo was parked.

God, I hated that thing.

I wasn’t a guy who was really
into the spotlight, but a rapper made a big deal about me needing something
flashy in L.A., so I gave in to the pressure and bought the lime-green
monstrosity, complete with vanity plates reading “HrtThrb.”

What a fucking tool I was.

I could see it in people’s eyes
as I drove down Rodeo Drive and they got a glimpse at the tinted windows. The
curling of their upper lips and muttering the same things I was feeling under
my breath.

As if things couldn’t get any
worse, when I pulled into the gated parking lot, large droplets of rain
smattered my windshield.

If this were a movie, right now
would be the black moment for the hero.

Swallowing hard, I tried not to
think on that as I darted out of my car and made a beeline through the large
glass doors.

Bypassing security with a wave,
I made my way up the elevator to Steph’s office.

She was a formidable woman in
size and voice. I was a decent height at six foot two, but in heels, she could
stare me down at eye level. Which she did as soon as I opened the doors to her
office; those dark green eyes were narrowed right on me.

“Finally.”

“Sorry, traffic was backed up,”
I muttered, not caring if she knew my lies at this point.

I slunk down into one of the
leather wingback chairs, my lawyer, Brent, in the other, his briefcase on his
lap, adjusting his glasses as he kept his gaze on the ground.

Steph sighed, shaking her head
as she sat down then looked up to the ceiling. “Bless your heart, and sometimes
you’re such a good actor that if I didn’t know you were full of crap half the
time, I’d believe you.”

I swallowed hard, a sick dread
rising in my throat.

Brent coughed once then opened
his briefcase, setting a few documents on the desk in front of me.

“Stephanie has already looked
over the documents I received earlier today, and I’ve spoken to Trish’s lawyer.
We think we’ve come to a reasonable agreement, but need to go over the
particulars first.”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning
forward and staring at the black letters on the stark white paper. A heading
for a law firm in Santa Monica stood out in bright gold letters before the next
words.

Blood test.

Paternity.

All of the feeling drained from
my face as a cold chill washed over me.

“Apparently,” Steph’s thick
accent broke through my frozen wall.

But before she could finish her
sentence, the glass door of the office swung open and there stood Trish.

Her eyes were wide and her
pupils so large I could barely see the brown of her eyes. But it wasn’t just
the look on her face.

It was what she had rounding the
front of her skin-tight dress.

“You’re pregnant?”

A memory hit me like a sucker
punch to the gut.

How I didn’t have any protection,
and for the first time I felt a woman without anything between us.

I’d grown up with this woman but
never thought of her as a mother.

More like the hot, unattainable
babysitter.

When she started giggling and
flirting with me backstage, I thought it would be our last time together so why
not try something?

“No shit, pendejo, and we’re going to hope that even though it’s been a long
time since I’ve had any other action, that this very drunken mistake in a back room
with my barely legal costar that created an even bigger mistake.”

Fuck.

How could I be so stupid?

I winced, looking down at the
marks on my arms. The ones I usually covered up with a sweatshirt but ran out
of the house so quickly I didn’t think about it. I’d let sadness take hold of
my thoughts instead of dealing with them.

Now…

“I’ll sign whatever papers I
need to. Own up to my fuckups. I’ll be a dad. I’ll do whatever you need me to
do, Trish.”

I turned toward her as she blinked
slowly then took the empty seat next to me, her hand on her stomach. “Oh,
honey, no. I just want the blood test to know there isn’t anything in your
family history. Other than that, this baby’s mine.”

The hair on the back of my neck
stood on end as I tried to control my emotions. “So that’s it? Just a blood
test?”

“If you stopped using it won’t
show anything you don’t want anyone else to know,” Trish muttered, flipping her
glossy black hair over her shoulder.

“Trish and her lawyers have
agreed to keep this quiet if you just go through with the blood test to find
out if you’re the father,” Steph interrupted.

“That’s it?” I asked, my tongue
numbing in my throat.

“I don’t need your money or your
sympathy, Len. I just want the blood test and the NDA my lawyer prepared,”
Trish said.

“But we can negotiate whatever
you want to add,” Brent added.

I swallowed the bile rising in
my throat. “NDA?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach
her eyes. “We all want to keep this quiet. Could you imagine if this rocked the
tabloids? TV Mom and son get dirty and have a kid? It would ruin both our
careers.”

This was the moment I could
break down.

I was well off enough from those
ten years of working on the show; I could walk away from Hollywood and fight
for this.

But as I looked down at the
swollen marks on my wrists, I knew I wasn’t in the right place to be a dad. The
right place to be something for anyone.

It was time I finally woke up.

“Just tell me where to sign.”

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The post HeartBreaker Prologue and Giveaway! appeared first on Magan Vernon.

Mom Monday: 10 things that have helped me as an author mom.

=

So I thought it’s time to try something new.

One of the biggest things that I get message about is how I balance Mom-ing with full-time authordom. Lemme tell you it’s not easy and it took some getting used to! But I thought I’d at least start with ten things that have really helped me with the author/mom life and made things easier.

The Alphasmart

I know, I know some people hate this thing. But I bought it for about $20 on Amazon used a few years ago for “Distraction free writing”. It turns out, this thing is a life saver with young kids. I don’t worry about them breaking an expensive laptop and I can sit outside or take this thing anywhere without worrying about not being able to see in the harsh sunlight or someone pouring rocks in my purse so it gets in the keys (yes this happened).

Crockpot

All hail the crockpot for saving me so many nights of making dinner! Especially when you have two kids who are constantly hungry and by the time your spouse is home, you may get a few minutes to go to the bathroom by yourself instead of with the kids. My biggest go-to is a bag of frozen chicken with an envelope of taco seasoning and an envelope of ranch dressing. Chicken tacos that everyone eats FTW! And with less time cooking (and using crockpot liners) also less time for clean up. So sometimes I can even convince hubs that we’re done with dinner early enough, he can watch the kids outside so I can get some words in.

Mothers-Day-Out programs

I didn’t even know this existed until I first started staying home with the kids when we moved to Charlotte. I knew they needed some kind of learning structure and that mama needed some kind of break. Daycares were expensive as heck, so I found out about Mothers Day out programs. For a few hours a day, your kid (ours were age 17 months and up) can to a school-like program while you can get some words in and throw in a load of laundry while you’re at it. Seriously, I learned how to get so much done in a three hour period, it was amazing. And you can do this as little as one day a week or five, depending on your income status.

Netflix

And here comes my controversial suggestion. Netflix. Yes, Netflix. Hulu works too, but I found less commercials is better.

Last summer, the only time I got to write was when I’d put on a movie for the kids. For that hour and a half, I shut everything else down and wrote like the wind. It’s how I finished writing a book and editing a traditional book. If not for that 2 hours a day, I would have gotten nothing done.

Play-Doh

Another controversial one, but seriously, play-doh is one of the best things ever. It’s one of the few things I can get my kids to play with for at least an hour so I can write or post for a takeover or whatever else I need to do.

A schedule

Trust me, I wasn’t a believer in the schedule either, but my kids seem to do much better on them and I keep my sanity. Even if the schedule isn’t always to the T, we try. For example, a typical (flexible summer day schedule for us).

Morning- Breakfast for kids, coffee for mom, check over email while eating.

Outside time until everyone is whining it’s hot (during this time I try and take my alphasmart outside to write or bring a book).

Lunch

Movie time (me writing)

Games or back outside

Dad home, dinner, family time, then bed for kids.

Meal Planning

Most people think Im crazy, but I started using a trick my MIL does. Every Sunday, I sit down with my kids and my husband and we plan out what we are going to eat for the week. Breakfast is usually things like poptarts for the kids and sandwiches for lunch. Then dinner, I come up with meals through Pinterest, copy the recipe in Word doc, print the doc with our meals through the week then open up the Walmart app and order my groceries. The whole thing literally takes us about thirty minutes then I get to pick up the groceries later or my husband on the way home from work. No need to worry about taking two hours out of my day to roam the stores.

A Library card

The library is one of the greatest, underutilized resources. The town I live in doesn’t actually have a library so I found out we can use a library that is in the same county, a few miles down the road, for free. At least once a week I take the kids there so they can pick out books and they have story time and play areas where I can just sit for a few minutes and sometimes I even get a few words in. I can also utilize the library for writing resources (books on craft, etc) so I can read those while spending time outside or any time I can’t write steamy romance and have my computer out since the kids can read now.

Fort building skillz

It’s a truth, that is universally acknowledged, that everything is better in a blanket fort.

I’ve done a lot of Pinterest searching and even used banner stands to craft some pretty awesome forts for my kids. It somehow makes them even more susceptible to lay down and watch a movie or play by themselves if it’s in a fort. I have also, more than once, taken my alphasmart in the fort with them to write. If you’re wondering where my Irish books were written, at least half of them were in a blanket fort on the ground.

Coffee

Okay, this one may be a given, but sometimes it’s the only way I can survive. I’m up at 5:30, sometimes even on the weekends. My best time to get any work in. The only way I can do that, is to get my coffee going, take in the smell of a french roast, and open up a word doc.

The post Mom Monday: 10 things that have helped me as an author mom. appeared first on Magan Vernon.

Some Kind of Love

I hopped off the plane at JFK with a dream and my MacBook.
Only to have my dreams squandered and end up soaking my sorrows with bread and jam at the local flea market.
I must have been pretty pathetic for the jam maker to give me a job and a place to stay.
But my luck definitely turned around when my first delivery was to a local winery owner, Justin Foster.

My life has always been about going against what my blue-blooded family wanted.
So opening a winery in Brooklyn was definitely the last thing they expected.
Or when I sort of kind of walked away from the woman they wanted me to marry.
But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be staring at wide-eyed Willa Stowe as she delivers jams to my business.

Now just to see if we can make it work and as long as no exes get in the way, maybe we’ll find some kind of love.
Maybe.
(Originally part of The Remington’s Kindle World, names and locations have been changed, but the story is still the same.)

Now #FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US

Amazon UK

The post Some Kind of Love appeared first on Magan Vernon.

KOBO YUGE BOGO SALE

Sometimes I forget I’ve been around forever.

Sometimes it still baffles me that I get opportunities to work with YUGE authors and platforms like Kobo to bring together a great sale for readers.

Ultimate Book Recommendation List

 

It seems like once a week, or even daily around the holidays, I get asked for book recommendations for different age groups.

This has even happened while being in the middle of Barnes & Noble and a teen boy was looking for a book for his mom who loved Fifty Shades.

So, I thought it would be good to compile a list of my favorite book recs for all age groups. I feel like I’m a little bit of an expert being an author but also because of having two little girls of my own and being an avid reader all of my life, I know what’s appropriate for each age and what they’ll actually like. (Most of the time. Because saying they’ll always like something is like me saying the kids loved when I made pasta last night and will love it when I make it again. And we all know that doesn’t happen).

Enjoy and hopefully, you find the next great read or gift!

 

(Updated as of 12/5/18)

 

Books Ages 0-5 or baby shower gift

Yummy, Yucky by Leslie Patricelli (A favorite by my girls and good for interactiveness as a toddler and early reading) https://amzn.to/2Plizwm
Blankie by Leslie Patricelli (Really all of her books are great but this is another good early reader book and interactive for babies) https://amzn.to/2Swu9GH
Llama Llama box set by Anna Dewdney (Nice rhyming, repetition, for easy reading, and some good messages in the stories) https://amzn.to/2Ujtz0L
Pinkalicious and Peteriffic books. (For boys or girls. Now also a show on PBS that both girls and boys really like). https://amzn.to/2UgBtrU

 

Books Ages 6-10

Bad Kitty by Nick Bruel (These were my daughter’s first chapter books in kindergarten. Easy reading, graphic novel format.) https://amzn.to/2Pn5zX0
Babysitters Club graphic novels by Raina Tegelmeier (Another favorite of my daughters she started reading in second grade. I read the non-graphic novels as a girl so it’s fun to watch her enjoy the same books I did). https://amzn.to/2Ui27Ar
Isle of The Lost (Descendants 1) by Melissa De La Cruz, graphic novel (We loved the movies as a family and when I saw the graphic novel for my seven-year-old, I knew we all needed it.) https://amzn.to/2PhJKYZ
Junie B Jones by Barbara Park (This was a gift from my mom to my oldest when she started first grade. I’m pretty sure my oldest read all of these books within a few days and wanted more). https://amzn.to/2KWh2ft
Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey (I didn’t realize how big of a deal this series was until I worked the school book fair and every single boy came up to me asking where these books were.) https://amzn.to/2SxCev5

Books Ages 10-13

Warriors by Erin Hunter (A warrior cat series that I bought for my niece and she at least pretended she loved it!) https://amzn.to/2UhC0Kg
The Harry Potter series by JK Rowling (My niece just started reading these last year and my oldest keeps asking when she can read the books. The obsession starts young.)  https://amzn.to/2E3f7Ep

Books Age 14-16 (And can go up honestly)

The Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer(Some may say their kids can read this earlier, but I think this is a sweet spot in age to start this series) https://amzn.to/2RAQL9f
Dumplin by Julie Murphy (One of my favorite books of all time and now a Netflix movie. A good one for body image for girls especially)  https://amzn.to/2Pg1Dr3
The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins (This one is up to parental discretion as well, but good for boys and girls) https://amzn.to/2SxDC0L

For your mama, grandmother, BFF, who loves Fifty Shades

The Marriage Bargain by Jennifer Probst (The number 2 book left in hotel rooms after Fifty Shades) https://amzn.to/2KYMkSQ
One Night with Soul Regret by Olivia Cunning (Will make your mama blush) https://amzn.to/2DZYsSl
The Dare series by Carly Phillips (Yep…I got in trouble in middle school for passing around sex scenes in a Carly Phillips book. In my defense, there wasn’t much for young adult books at that time and wasn’t what they were showing on PBS for sure!) https://amzn.to/2Qc9riN

The post Ultimate Book Recommendation List appeared first on Magan Vernon.

First Chapter Reveal of Irish On The Rocks!

 

Who is ready for Irish on The Rocks on September 17th?

Still unsure?

Well if you haven’t read Straight Up Irish it’s on sale this week for only #99cents

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2OgL12k

Barnes and Noble: https://goo.gl/7uUQXT

iBooks: https://goo.gl/NDNJUU

Kobo: https://goo.gl/qpX65L

Google Play: https://goo.gl/Z1XAtD

Irish on The Rocks is a standalone, featuring the oldest Murphy brother, so you don’t need to read Straight Irish Up to know what’s going on in this book, but hey 99 cents is 99 cents.

Still not convinced you need either book? Well here’s the blurb and a first chapter reveal for Irish on The Rocks (complete with a giveaway if you read all the way through!)

My family’s whiskey empire needs to keep me as CEO. But thanks to my dad’s will, to take my place as rightful head of the company, I need to find a wife. If I could just get my brother Sean’s pain-in-the-arse best mate, Grace, out of my head long enough to focus on finding a decent woman.

The woman maddens me, but she’s a longtime friend of the family, so giving her a job as my assistant is the only way I can keep everyone off my back. But the more time I spend with her, the more I find myself looking differently at this girl from my past.

Too bad she’s decided not to give me the time of day.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2ALT3hT

Barnes & Noble:  https://goo.gl/LgnD9d

iBooks:  https://goo.gl/oKZ3Ur

Kobo:  https://goo.gl/c4bAFm

Google Play: https://goo.gl/rvGvcn

 

Chapter One

Grace

 

The only things good about a charity gala were the free drinks and raising money for the less fortunate. Something I was taking full advantage of—the drinks, that is. Especially when my “date” was late and I didn’t know a single soul in the place. I tried smiling and nodding to a few people, but the only conversations I’d had in months was with my family and my dog. Though, to be fair, she was pretty vocal and a better conversationalist than most of the men I’d dated. At least I finally had a night out of the house. After staying with my mum and grandparents for the past month, the only time I ever left was for job interviews that never panned out. But tonight, I got to be the girl in the red dress. The one that made my arse look good. Too bad I didn’t have anyone to impress, including my best mate and “date,” Sean.

Pulling my phone out of my pocketbook, I sent him a quick text.

Me: Where the hell are you?

Sean: Just finishing up practice.

Me: Really? That’s what you’re going with?

Sean: Don’t get your knickers in a twist.

Me: Are you really at practice or in some poor woman’s bed?

Sean: Can’t a man do both?

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a drink from the bar and taking a large swig. Sean Murphy had been one of my best friends since we were in nappies, spending our summers together on my granddad’s estate and our years being crazy in boarding school. Now, I stood in the grand ballroom, alone, waiting for him and really wishing I had my dog there to talk to. I took another big gulp of my drink. Mum and I moved from the UK to Dublin a month ago, after her and my wanker of a father’s year-long divorce battle ended. She had wanted to save face and I, at twentythree, found myself laid off from my job and out of options. “Champagne? Is there going to be a toast?” I asked to no one in particular when I finally noticed what I was drinking, staring at the glass as if it would answer me back. “What would they toast to at a benefit for childhood cancer?” a husky voice responded, and I turned, wide-eyed, to see a man leaning on the bar next to me.

I’d recognize those dark blue eyes anywhere. Jack Murphy, now older with a tailored suit that molded to his well-defined frame, stared at me with his chiseled jawline and dimpled smirk. The one I’m sure had most girls dropping to their knees and begging for his attention. Every girl but me, that is. Even if I did have a wee crush on the guy back in the day. I’d known him my entire life, and he always thought the sun rose and set on his shoulders. A very nice set of broad, manly shoulders, but that wasn’t the point. “Right. I guess that wouldn’t make any sense,” I muttered, taking a big gulp of bubbly and hoping I wasn’t going to be knackered. No way could I miss my morning walk with Jane Pawsten, my Brussels Griffon, due to a hangover. “How about I get you a different drink? Something Irish?” His smile turned into a half-cocked grin that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss or kick off his face. Had he lost his mind? With our past, I was surprised he was being so civil. “Not much for whiskey, and I think this will be my first and last drink, but I’d settle for tea if they have that.” Okay, so it was my second, but I didn’t want him to think I was a lush as I grinned, twirling the stem of my glass. “Tea? I do enjoy a good cuppa as much as the next person, but when there’s an open bar, I don’t think they carry hot water or anything more than Lipton.” I laughed, even though the statement wasn’t really that funny. Blast, I was a horrible flirt. And why was I even trying with him? Especially since I’d known this man all of my life but now he looked at me as he didn’t know who I was. .

“So…what have you been up to lately? World domination and all that, I guess?” Bollocks, I really was bad at this small talk. I also wasn’t exactly sure what the oldest Murphy had been doing since I last saw him eight years ago. Sean didn’t really talk to me about his brothers, but I knew his da had passed and Jack and his brothers had yet to take over the company. Something that I definitely wasn’t about to bring up. He laughed. “Running a pub franchise isn’t world domination. Makes me sound like an evil villain from the comics when you put it that way.” Slowly he leaned forward in his seat, and I inhaled his manly scent of leather and mint. Need pooled low in my stomach. Where was my Sean buffer when I needed him? “I read a book once where you thought the man was the villain the entire time but in the end, he was the hero,” I blurted, wishing I had something better to talk about than what I had edited for freelance work. He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I’ve ever read something like that. Do you work in the publishing industry? Romance author? Or maybe you’re a cover model?” I choked on my own spit and let out a wheezing cough, putting my hand to my chest as I blinked rapidly. Why was he being nice to me? And why was I being nice back? “I’m in editing right now. Freelance for the time being. But if you know a publisher who is looking for a new editor, I’m all ears since my last one downsized,.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Can’t say that I know any publishers, mo gra, but if I knew the one who let you go, I’d boycot all of their books.”

I struggled not to roll my eyes. “That’s a horrible comeon. I would think after all these years you’d have something better.” He blinked, swirling the liquid in his rocks glass. “Hey, I was just trying to be nice. You see a girl sitting alone in a beautiful red dress and you buy her a drink and have a conversation.” His voice was smooth, laying it on thick with a dimpled smile as he leaned on the bar. “I’m Jack, by the way, if I didn’t say that before. Jack Murphy. But surely we’ve met before. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said, taking my hand in his. I grazed my fingers along his and stared at our intertwined digits. He couldn’t be serious, could he? I hadn’t changed that much since we were in boarding school. Yes, I learned how to tame my curls, got rid of the glasses, lost a few pounds, and had braces in Uni, but surely he knew the girl he was talking to. I’d been one of his brother’s friends. Or did he? Oh, this was going to be good. “Yes. It’s nice to see you again, Jack. Been a long time,” I said with a large grin. His lips quirked into a half smile as he took a long sip of his drink. His eyes burned into me like he was still trying to figure out who the hell I was. “Yes. It has been a long time. How’s your family?” he asked, the generic question everyone asked. Before my parents’ divorce battle that left Mum with nothing. But I wasn’t going to bring that up to the smiling man across from me. Oh no. I had a better idea. “The family’s grand. How’s yours? Saw Connor was

recently married and Sean’s still playing rugby. Who would have known the little punk rock kid would turn into an athlete?” I laughed, taking a swig of my drink before setting it on the counter only to have it filled again by the bartender before I could protest. Anyone would know about Connor’s marriage and Sean’s career if they lived in Dublin and were familiar with the Murphy clan. But not everyone would know the whole past. Jack’s forehead crinkled slightly. He was still trying to place me. Oh, come on now. “All grand here,” he said, turning to the bartender and ordering a refill of his drink. “It’s been a very long day, and I’m about ready to head out of here.” His blazing blue eyes searched mine. “I get that maybe we’ve both changed a bit and haven’t seen each other since you graduated school. But you know, the night is still young. Why not stay and chat with me?” I tugged at the low neckline of my dress where his eyes briefly flitted to. We had changed since I last saw him, but I guess some things were still the same. “When you put it that way, mo gra, how could I say no to another drink?” he asked softly. But the wheels were turning as his brow quirked slightly. I’d be lying if I said heat didn’t flutter low in my stomach, and I had to push it back. He couldn’t just use cute little Irish terms of endearment and expect me to bow down to him. Especially when he didn’t even remember me. “It’s no tea, but I guess I can settle for this champagne. I just might need to call a cab home. First drink I’ve had in months,” I rambled.

He traced the lines of my hand, the light touches flickering feelings I thought had been burnt to the ground along with any thoughts of a relationship after my parents’ divorce. “And why is that? Busy with work? Something else?” I shook my head, setting my glass down before pulling back and shaking my head. No. No. Just because he looked at me with those dark blue eyes and flashed his dimpled smile, didn’t mean I could get personal with him. He may have just been asking a simple question, but one more drink and I’d forget that the arseholehe didn’t remember me. That I was just playing around with him. “You know, I should actually probably head out, too. I haven’t seen my friend who I’m meeting and I’m wondering if he’s even going to show at this late hour.” I searched the room, seeing if maybe Sean had made a grand entrance, but no such luck. He reached for my hand again, squeezing it gently. “Any man who would stand you up didn’t deserve your attention in the first place.” I tried to pretend like I was a strong woman who wasn’t affected by his words, but I totally was. My heart beat rapidly in my chest like I’d just run a marathon. The alcohol was affecting me more than I realized. No way could I still be attracted to Jack after all these years. I shook my head, a slight smile crossing my lips as I tried to ignore the heat rising in my neck. “You’re just saying that.” He grinned. “A woman like you, seeing just how far you can push me before I admit that I don’t recognize you, is definitely not someone I would just say anything to for

shites and giggles.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “So you admit you have no idea who I am.” Blast that damn distracting dimple. “I have some idea that we went to school together. But I don’t think I could forget a girl like you.” “Are you talking about my tits or my attitude?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a real gas, I’ll give you that. And the most interesting person I’ve talked to in a long time.” “Is that so?” I couldn’t help putting my chin in my hand as I leaned forward, knowing full well that he was getting an eyefulof my chest popping out of my dress. Before he could respond, the world moved in slow motion. My elbow on the bar. My arm hitting the full glass of champagne. Said glass toppling over and all of the liquid contents now soaking into his probably expensive suit pants. Gasps came from people pretending not to watch as Jack stood up, the champagne now running all the way down his pant leg. “Ah shite,” I yelled and turned to the bartender who already had a towel in his hands. Quickly I knelt down, pressing the cloth to Jack’s leg and not noticing how far my hands had traveled until he let out a low groan and I saw the very hard bulge staring me in the face. “Grace.” My eyes widened as I popped my head up to meet his stare. “You knew it was me?”

He grabbed the towel, trying to pat the pool of liquid that had situated itself right near his groin. The exact spot I was almost touching. My face heated as I stood up, now realizing how much of an arse I had just made of myself. He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t at first. You’ve cleaned up a bit since our school days, but it didn’t take long. I just wanted to see how long we could play this game. I didn’t see you throwing a drink on me.” I put my hands on my hips, the embarrassment now gone and anger seething through me. “I didn’t throw anything on you. It fell. An honest mistake.” “Oh, horse shite. We both know your little sexy act to get me to stare at your tits was an excuse to knock that drink over.” “You are overreacting.” He rolled his eyes, giving up and tossing the wet towel back on the bar before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass back where he found it. “I’m just calling it a night. Say ‘hi’ to my brother when he gets here, will ya?” Before he could leave me standing there looking like a fool, I grabbed my purse, not wanting to be the one left standing there. “You’re absolutely maddening. Did you know that?” He smirked. “I’ve been called worse.” I didn’t even bother saying goodbye as I turned on my heel and headed in the opposite direction, looking for the nearest exit. I didn’t care that I hadn’t seen Sean yet, or that people were gaping open mouthed at me.

The night was definitely over, but I had a feeling I was in for a lot more trouble in Dublin. …

Sean: So…wanna tell me what happened with you and my brother?

I rolled my eyes at Sean’s messages that I received at the unruly hour of three a.m. when I was already in bed.

Me: Nothing happened with me and Jack. Just him being an arse after a stupid mistake. I went home right after that, which is more than I can say for you.

Sean: Hey, I did show up and you were already gone.

Me: Whatever.

Sean: LOL you know I love you. How about we hang out today? Your mum having brunch? If there’s sweets to go with tea, I’m in.

I smirked, even though he couldn’t see it. As kids, Sean and I bonded over our mutual love of sweets that we’d sneak from Granddad’s stash he hid from Grandmum. As we got older, his love of food turned him into a strapping man with legs like tree trunks, perfect for a professional rugby career. But I, on the other hand, would get a whiff of a Galaxy Bar and gain ten pounds. A healthy regiment of watching what I ate and the treadmill helped to take off the baby fat, but the scars from

the bitches in boarding school still remained, and so did the curvy hips.

Me: You can even have my scones if you promise never to leave me at a gala again.

Sean: I make no promises, but I will take those scones.

Me: See you at ten.

For once, Sean was only five minutes late to my grandparents’ house. “No girls chasing after you this morning?” I asked, raising a brow as the butler let him into the house. He was dressed in his Sunday best with a three-piece suit hugging his barrel chest and wide shoulders and hiding the tattoos skating up and down his arms. The beard and styled hair added to his charming bad-boy look. If I hadn’t known the guy all my life and been best mates, I might have had a crush…like the one I harbored for Jack as a girl. And maybe still did? There was no way that anything was going to happen between us now. Not after I spilled champagne all over his probably very expensive suit and made an arse of myself. Even if I couldn’t stop thinking about that cocky smirk. Damn him for being so cute. “For tea and scones, I’ll do just about anything,” Sean said with a laugh and followed me through the foyer. The house in the city was considered a downgrade from my grandparents’ former country estate, but the place was still massive and filled with antiques and priceless oil paintings. We had to go down a long hallway, past two

parlors, before we even got to the dining room. The table was filled with enough food for an army yet only Granddad, Grandmum, and Mum sat at the table. Their faces lit up as soon as Sean walked in. “Everyone, you remember Sean? He’s here for brunch, even though he missed seeing me at the gala last night and he’s terribly sorry,” I said, side-eying him as we sat down in one of the upholstered high-back chairs. “I remember him. He was the fat one who wore eyeliner.” Grandmum pointed a crooked finger. I snickered, watching Sean’s face turn redder than the tomatoes on the sandwiches.While Granddad was in a suit and Mum in a modest blazer and blue dress, Grandmum wore her usual eccentric attire of a feathered hat and lemonyellow wrap dress that I was pretty sure had pugs printed on it. The older she got, the crazier her fashion choices were, and her filter was always hit or miss. “It was a punk phase. We all had one,” he muttered, taking a large bite of scone. “And there’s no one else I would have rather gone through my safety pins and mosh phase with than you,” I teased. “I think we still have a picture of that summer we let you two go to that place with the same name as a church. Granddad thought you were going to mass and figured he’d join,” Grandmum went on, flitting toward the living room and returning with a leather photo album. Sean laughed. “Ah, the St. Francis Xavier days.” Grandmum opened the book, flipping a few pages before setting it on the table and turning it toward us. I snorted, picking up the old book and looking at the

photos of us in our donkey jackets and Tam O’shanter hats, standing outside the famous music hall. We were surrounded by a thick layer of smoke but smiling with our thick eyeliner and chubby cheeks. There were times I missed those days of being in our own little bubble, listening to music and forgetting the world. …

“Didn’t Sean’s brother Jack have to pick you up that night when Sean got into a tiff?” Mum asked, looking between the two of us. Ugh, Jack. I didn’t want to hear that name again. Especially since Granddad and Mum didn’t know what happened at the gala last night. They’d have a shite fit if they knew I spilled champagne all over the acting CEO of a company Granddad was on the board of. “That was all Grace and her fisticuffs.” Sean winked. “Can we not talk about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life?” I muttered. “As embarrassing as what happened with you and Jack last night?” Sean’s eyes sparkled as he took a sip of his tea. Bloody hell. I was going to get him for this. “What happened with Jack?” Mum asked, her eyebrows raised high on her head. “Nothing. Just a little mishap.” I grumbled, glaring at my supposed best mate who was throwing me under the bus. “You spilled champagne all over him.” Sean barked out a laugh. “Gracie,” Mum chastised. “It was a complete accident. I swear. I was talking and

leaning in…and…oh bugger. I’m never leaving the house again,” I muttered, taking a sip of my orange juice I wished was spiked. No. Wait. Alcohol was what got me into this mess in the first place. At this point I didn’t need liquor, but maybe to disappear out back where one of the maids was running Jane Pawsten. At least the dog would never say anything to embarrass me. Mum shook her head, but it was Granddad who spoke. “You probably owe him an apology. Even if it was an accident. We do work with him and our family has been friends with the Murphys for generations.” “I did apologize. Over and over again. And I still just looked like an arse,” I replied, trying not to whine with my strained voice. “I’d actually love to see you have to grovel. And if I could film it then play it on repeat for whenever you’re giving me shite, that would be grand, too.” Sean laughed, and I groaned before polishing off my glass. Apologizing at the event was one thing. But if I showed up at his office, begging for forgiveness, there was no way I wouldn’t make a complete arse of myself…again. Now I just hoped I wouldn’t have to see Jack Murphy’s sexy smirk for another eight years. Or however long it took him to forget me. Again.

And now you can enter the rafflecopter for a La Barkeria gourmet dog biscuit gift card!

Completely Jane Pawsten approved, especially the Irish On The Rocks, made especially for this book!

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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A new look. A Happily Ever After.

I’ve been doing this author thing for almost seven years now.

I’ve written stories in almost every genre and my brand has been, well, lets just say it’s been all over the place.

So, as I tried to finally get organized I sat and thought “what do all of my books have in common?”

By sat, I mean this came to me in the shower, which all of my best ideas do, like when I decided that strawberries on fluffer nutters would be a great idea.

But anyway…

Back to books.

So I have everything from YA love stories featuring aliens to survivors overcoming political barriers and even some male strippers thrown in there with a side of swimmers who walk into small Texas towns.

It might not seem like these all have much in common. Yes, some of these books deal with real deep issues, even if there are some laughs.

But most importantly, even if its’ part of a series, all of my books have that happily ever after.

I truly believe, that no matter how dark a time has been, there will be a happily ever after. Whether that’s in fiction or in real life.

It’s no secret a few of my books have dealt with my own struggles, and writing them in their own right was my therapy. That step I needed to create my own happily ever after.

For anyone who wants to read my books or who has read them, I want them to know that even in the darkest of times, there can be a happily ever after. There can be more.

 

 

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Loving My Crazy

 

Definition of crazy by Merriam Webster
crazier; craziest

1a: full of cracks or flaws :unsound: crooked, askew


2a: not mentally sound: marked by thought or action that lacks reason: insane 1b  (1): impractical

c: being out of the ordinary: unusual




In short, it’s a term that has a stigma. Not many people say someone is crazy and mean it as a good thing.
But I, Magan Vernon, am crazy.
I have the prescription to prove it.
The prescription I got from a psychiatrist because I knew it was time I needed help.

This is something that’s really hard to admit for anyone. Especially someone who is a semi-public figure with multiple published books and young children.

I started writing Love Like Crazy in the winter of 2017. My plan was to release a Friendship, Texas book every other month. I thought with a rapid release like that, I could continuously make enough writing to support itself and keep staying home to work. That way I wouldn’t have to commute to Dallas for a job and miss things like my youngest daughter’s first field trip.

It was also during that time my agent told me an editor friend of hers was looking for a series with brothers set in Ireland. I took a chance and we pitched it to the editor, who loved it and bought the series. This, of course, meant my first time with a traditional deal, more editing, and Friendship, Texas was put on hold.

The first Murphy Brothers book (Irish brothers) did well, so I should have been ecstatic.
But it was also during that time my youngest started to tell me her eye was hurting.
She had always had a problem where when she drank or ate, one eye would get bigger and the other smaller. So, in the midst of trying to write some Murphy books and Love Like Crazy, I was worried about what was going on with my daughter.
We went to her eye doctor who sent us to a specialist.
Instead of spending my days writing, I spent a lot of days with doctor’s appointments. The specialist was where we found out she had Marcus Gunn Winking Jaw Ptosis, which wouldn’t be a big deal but with her eye alignment, she needed surgery.

And this is where my anxiety and depression started to escalate.

It took almost a month for insurance to approve the surgery and still weren’t going to cover all of it.
I get it, it’s a no-no to talk about money, but this is honestly where my crazy started to hit.
Without consistent releases, my author paychecks were low.
I did try sales and advertising, yes, but when I did get paid for those months, I had to pay back my joint account with my husband for the money I spent on advertising.
Taking money away from what I knew was going toward my daughter’s bills wore on me.

My worries started to pour into my writing. Clay and Christy started delving into my own fears, some stayed in the book, and some ended up buried.
Buried so deep that I fell into a depression that was hard to get out of.
I knew I needed to finish this book. I knew I needed to be there for my children, yet I couldn’t even get off the couch.

It was during this time my husband started talking about another dog and we decided to rescue one. Delving into saving a dog did help me to continue writing.
We found Dallas Street Dog Advocates and met Breezy, a dog with her own crazy story who I wasn’t sure about.
Literally, we met and had about 4-5 playdates before we decided this skittish dog was going to be our furever.

Her story and her willingness to love again after all she’d been through was what helped me finish writing Love Like Crazy.
But the nerves of getting a new dog, still paying off a surgery and being home all day with young kids and a scared dog, had my anxiety in overdrive. Something I couldn’t even put into words and use it as inspiration to write.

So finally, I stopped worrying about the bills and went to a psychiatrist who prescribed me a new medication, some counseling, and gave me the “duh” moment that my depressive state had started with my daughter’s diagnosis.

I was able to get my pre-orders up. To finally work again on edits and take care of a dog and my kids.
Some days I juggle this all pretty well.
But there are still some days that my crazy gets to me.

Those are the days where people ask “don’t you have a deadline?” but I take off a few hours to cuddle on the couch with my kids and the dogs, watching a movie.

I know I’m crazy. I know everything I do doesn’t make sense.
But my crazy is also a part of me. It’s a part I hate and it’s a part I also have to learn to love.

***

More info about Love Like Crazy

Friendship, Texas just got a little bit crazier with gruff Army veteran, Clay Carrington, and Q Ranch heiress Christy Quinn’s world’s colliding.

Vegas was a trip, and that was an understatement. An understatement I couldn’t remember and that included the brunette in my bed.

That is until my pounding headache had me getting up for a glass of water and I saw the marriage license on the ground.

The words: Clay Carrington and Christy Quinn and holy matrimony staring me in the face.

I came to Vegas to get away, and the bratty owner’s daughter of the ranch wanted to come with. I didn’t even like the boss’s daughter, let alone want to marry her.

I guess things the happened in Vegas had a way of following you home.

**This book is a standalone in a series of standalones taking place in the fictional town of Friendship, Texas. You don’t need to read any of the previous books to understand this one***

Pre-Order:

Amazon; https://amzn.to/2rrO3I8

Barnes & Noble: https://goo.gl/Z6aUBG

iTunes: https://goo.gl/x1ZBsx

Kobo: https://goo.gl/fZWQem

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/JUFXAg

The post Loving My Crazy appeared first on Magan Vernon.

Love Like Crazy first chapter reveal!

 

Love Like Crazy
Aka Clay’s book
Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 18th, 2018

Army veteran, Clay Carrington, and Q Ranch heiress Christy Quinn’s world’s colliding.

Vegas was a trip, and that was an understatement. An understatement I couldn’t remember and that included the brunette in my bed.

That is until my pounding headache had me getting up for a glass of water and I saw the marriage license on the ground.

The words: Clay Carrington and Christy Quinn and holy matrimony staring me in the face.

I came to Vegas to get away, and the bratty owner’s daughter of the ranch wanted to come with. I didn’t even like the boss’s daughter, let alone want to marry her.

I guess things the happened in Vegas had a way of following you home.

**This book is a standalone in a series of standalones taking place in the fictional town of Friendship, Texas. You don’t need to read any of the previous books to understand this one***

Pre-Order:

Amazon; https://amzn.to/2rrO3I8

Barnes & Noble: https://goo.gl/Z6aUBG

iTunes: https://goo.gl/x1ZBsx

Kobo: https://goo.gl/fZWQem

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/JUFXAg
New Release notification with newsletter! :  http://www.subscribepage.com/MaganVernon

Now for the first chapter! (If you want to see me read this first chapter live, you can head to my Facebook page to watch!)

 

Chapter 1

Clay

 

Vegas.

I’d always dreamed of going there, but I never thought it would be for the rodeo with the boss’s daughter bitching next to me on the plane ride from Friendship, Texas.

“If the blankets are that itchy and the lights that bright, why don’t you just go the fuck to sleep?” I growled as Christy writhed next to me.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind being in a small space with a petite brunette, but this chick was the bane of my existence. She just had to beg her daddy—aka my boss—to let her come with me to Vegas. Several of the Q Ranch’s horses were in the barrel racing competitions, and the old man wanted someone out there. I was the lucky one he trusted, but not too much if he was going to send her along.

“Really? You think I’d miss an opportunity to spend time in Vegas? Even if it’s with the Mohawked groundskeeper,” she snarled, her almond brown eyes narrowing.

“Groundskeeper? That’s the best you could come up with? Sweetheart, I’m the assistant manager of general operations. That’s a hell of a lot more than shoveling the shit you throw at me on a daily basis. Your dad should probably give me a raise just for dealing with you.”

Christy was a pain in the ass. Just a few years younger than me, she was “taking a break” from college. Which consisted of hanging around the ranch, pretending she was doing real work, but mainly just doing everything she could to nitpick. I couldn’t wait until we touched down, and I could get in my hotel room. At least have some peace without her.

“As long as you didn’t fuck up and lose whatever credentials we need for this rodeo stuff and our hotel, you can call yourself whatever you want,” she mumbled before turning toward the window.

It was only a long weekend, but every minute I was stuck with her would feel like an eternity.

 

***

 

If I thought dying on the plane from talking to Christy was bad, then I was pretty sure I’d gone to hell with the Lyft ride to the hotel. I needed a smoke and something strong to drink by the time we got to our rooms.

We had adjoining rooms, so I didn’t have to share the space with her. As long as I didn’t have to listen to her voice any longer.

The hotel room wasn’t anything super fancy for how luxe the actual hotel was, but I didn’t care. As long as I had a bed and a shower, it was better than the holes I’d slept in when I was in Iraq. Or anywhere I was stationed or deployed, for that matter.

It felt like a lifetime ago but was really only a little over a year ago when I was driving the truck that got hit, pinning my leg and putting me in a VA hospital. From there, I was medically discharged from the military and sent back to Friendship.

I know I was lucky as fuck since so many other guys lost limbs or their lives, but after getting out, I had no direction. I had literally just signed on for another four years. After only being back in Iraq a few weeks, BOOM, my military career was over. And I had no fucking clue what I wanted to do with my life, so I ended up working at the ranch as a bartender and eventually moving up to my current position.

Lying on the bed, I groaned from my sore muscles. It had been a long time since I’d flown and being stuck sitting next to Christy for that long didn’t help.

After connecting my phone to the Wi-Fi, I checked my email, then aimlessly scrolled through some sites.

Most days, the social media bullshit just pissed me off more than it entertained me. People from my graduating class pretending they had perfect lives. Sure, Slutty Sarah from study hall, I’m sure you’re super happy with your four kids, living in your mama’s spare room. All those hashtaged blessed posts said so.

But today, instead of sneering, I saw a familiar face that had me grinning when I recognized the background in her photo.

I met Angel Ellis during my first tour in Afghanistan. She was a reporter and one of the only women around. So naturally, we fucked like rabbits.

I hadn’t talked to her for a few years and didn’t know she was back in the States or, by her photos of the Stratosphere, that she was in Vegas.

I literally couldn’t remember the last time I got laid. Not since before my injury.

Hell, even if I just hung out with the chick and had a few drinks, it would be nice to see someone else who wasn’t a cowboy or Christy.

Pulling up the messenger app, I typed in Angel’s name and sent a message.

 

Me: Hey, it’s Clay. Just saw you posted a pic in Vegas, and I’m here for work. Wanna meet up for a drink or something?

 

She responded quicker than I thought she would, but that was more than okay with me.

 

Angel: Hey! It’s been forever! I’m here with some girlfriends for the weekend. We are about to grab dinner, but I’ll DM you where we end up after? Would love to catch up

This is what depression looks like

 

Two separate days, two separate photos that show what my depression looks like.

Depression is defined, according to the American Psychiatric Association as a common and serious medical illness that negatively affects how you feel, the way you think and how you act.

Here’s the thing, though, while I’ve met a lot of people with depression, since it’s considered ‘common’, I also have met a lot of people that don’t understand it. Those who dont understand how one day I can be laying on the couch, unable to move, sadness taking over so much that I dont even want to open my eyes. And the next day, bury that sadness by sitting outside with my laptop and escape into writing.

For me,  my darkest depressive days will come out of nowhere.

One day I wake up, happy, and like I take on the world.

The next day, it could be something little or nothing at all and I feel my chest caving in and the world around me seems so huge that I have to shrink myself down to hide from impending doom.

My dear husband will try and cheer me up. He’ll tell me this will pass. And I feel like a failure. A failure I just can’t be happy.

I have two young children who are now home for the summer, who want their smiling and happy mom.

Some days I can do that. Some days I can genuinely be happy and elated.

Some days I have to fake it.

And some days I can’t do either and I bury myself in the covers on the couch, and we put on movies and cuddle.

Life, working from home on a basically comission based job has given me more ups and downs than I ever had in my corporate career.

The truth about being an author is that while some will have that steady income, I’m not one of those.

There are days and months where I can write thousands of words in a day, have great sales, and feel like Im on top of the world.

Then just as quickly as that boom of happiness come, it can shatter again in an instant.

Sales of the next book will falter. Life will get in the way and I’ll be too crippled to write. Or busy with kids activities, getting home too late to even care if I put my hands on the keyboard and just want to lay in bed with my husband and watch Ancient Aliens.

He doesn’t understand my depression. My girls dont fully either. But they understand when Mommy is sad. Or frustrated.

In the early stages of mine and my husband’s relationship he’d try and ‘fix it’. Now, he’ll offer to bring home dinner and a movie and we’ll all huddle together.

Work might not be done and my Amazon paycheck for the month may not even pay the water bill. But he doesn’t judge me for that. He doesn’t tell me to give up my dream and go back to working in corporate America.

He tells me just being here with our kids and to pour my words out onto the computer is enough. That I am enough. That I am worthy.

Even in my darkest days, I know that I can escape. Whether it be with my family on the couch with a movie, or into my own fictional worlds.

These arent always on the same day and every day can be different when the depression monster takes over. But it’s something I have to live with. It’s something I’ve struggled with all of my life.

When I was younger I didn’t know how to control it, but now, I know there’s nothing I can do to fight it. I just ride it out and know that the days of laying on the couch will pass. That I have my words to escape to, my family to rely on, and my understand friends, readers, critique partners, and people in my life who don’t judge my mental illness.

Sometimes it takes a village behind you, even when you dont want to see it. Even when that village lives in the computer or are two litle girls in Black Panther masks on the couch next to you.

This is depression, folks. This is me.

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