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style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Title: Things Liars Fake
(#ThreeLittleLies #3)
(#ThreeLittleLies #3)
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Author: Sara
Ney
Ney
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Release Date: Feb 1,
2016
2016
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style="font-family:georgia,serif;">What if…
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Someone you barely knew asked you for a
favor.
favor.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">What
if…
if…
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">They needed you to be something you
weren’t, in exchange for nothing. Unless you count a mouth full
of lies and a half-broken heart. Faker. Pretender. Liar. There are worse things to be
called.
weren’t, in exchange for nothing. Unless you count a mouth full
of lies and a half-broken heart. Faker. Pretender. Liar. There are worse things to be
called.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">So would you do it? Would
you?
you?
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Daphne Winthrop
did.
did.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">And you’re about to find out what happens
in the end.
in the end.
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I pay, trying to scurry
undetected to the condiments, juggling my cardboard snack tray awkwardly as I
pluck a few napkins from the metallic holder. One, two… five
napkins.
That should be enough,
right?
For good measure, I pluck out
two more from the holder because sometime my butter hands get out of control. I
hate having buttery fingerprints.
Still clutching my ticket stub, I
attempt to lift it to see which theater my movie is playing in, but fail miserably and
have to set everyth—
“Daphne?”
I
freeze.
Look
up.
Pivot.
Standing behind me in his navy
blue pea coat, Dexter Ryan smiles crookedly down at
me.
He smoothes his hands down
the front of his dark pressed jeans—or is he wiping sweat off his
palms?—and pushes his tortoiseshell eyeglasses up the bridge of his
nose.
I take it all in—every
inch of him—from the preppy jacket, the glasses, the slight cleft in his chin, up
to the black cable knit winter hat when he suddenly removes it. Instead of his hair
being flatted by the hat, it’s unruly and a bit tousled. A rich brown, his locks
are wavy, shaggy and desperately need a trim.
He finger combs it out of his
face.
“It is
Daphne, right?” He asks, unsure of himself.
It’s hard to hold back
my groan of dismay at being spotted, but I muster up a cheerful, “Yeah. Hi.
Dexter?”
He smiles then, his eyes
shining behind his dark, tortoiseshell lenses. I mean—I think his
eyes are shining. Maybe it’s just the reflection of his
glasses?
Those dark eyes dart down to
my snacks, the ticket stub grasped between two fingers on my right hand. His brows
go up. “Do you need help with anything? Sorry, I’m an idiot;
it’s obvious you’re waiting for
someone.”
A nervous giggle escapes my
lips, only I can’t smack a hand over my mouth to stop it. “Gosh thank
you. I don’t need help,” I hurriedly say. “I just have to see
which theater I’m in, but I’m having a hard time
with…”
All my
food.
“It’s just
you?” His head cranes around, confused. “I’m sorry, that was
rude. Of course it’s not just you. Why would it be?” His deep voice
gives a forced, nervous chuckle.
Wow, this is about to get
awkward. “Nope, it is just me,” I barely manage to get the
words out. “I’m here alone.”
Dexter’s eyes go wide,
sending his brows straight into his hairline. His mouth even falls open a little but no
sound comes out.
“Great,” I joke,
more for my benefit than his. “I’ve rendered you
speechless.”
I follow the line of his jacket,
down to the hand tightly gripping his winter hat.
“No! Shit, sorry. I
didn’t mean… I don’t know what I mean.” Deep breath.
“I’m here alone, too.”
Suddenly, his mouth twitches
into a goofy grin, and my green eyes fly make a beeline to his lips as they form the
words, “Which movie are you here to
see?”
Those
lips.
Huh?
Instead of formulating a
response, I find myself trying not to stare at a perfectly sculpted upper lip and a full
mouth surrounded by a days’ worth of five o’clock shadow. Strong
jawline. Straight, white teeth. And is that line in his cheek a
dimple?
Dexter clears his throat, and I
watch transfixed as the chords in his neck flex when he reprises, “Which
movie are you here to see?”
Huh?
“Huh?”
Jesus, I have some serious
issues. And if Dexter think I’ve gone space cadet on him, he doesn’t
let on; his brown eyes are kind. Friendly. Sincere without a trace of egotism.
“What movie?”
Oh god. Could this be any more
humiliating? The guys asked me the same question three
times.
“Uh…
StarGate?”
Don’t judge me!
Don’t judge me, Dexter!
I want to shout. I want to hide behind my massive bucket of popcorn. Yes, it’s true! I am at a nine o’clock
screening of StarGate, the twenty-year-old movie turned nerd cult classic of all time.
By
myself.
As in:
alone.
On a Saturday
night.
A pleased grin quirks, his thick
brows shoot up for a second time in surprise before he clears his throat. “Me
too.”
Dexter briefly glances down at
his ticket stub, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a forefinger.
God, it’s such a sweet gesture I actually cock my head and
stare.
Truth be told, I could probably
stare at him all night.
It’s been all of three
minutes and I find him charming, adorable, and unassumingly handsome. The kind
of handsome that sneaks up on you.
He clears his throat again.
“It’s, uh, in theater twelve. Let me just…” He reaches
around me then to grab a few napkins for himself, though he’s only carrying
a medium soda.
No popcorn. No candy. No
snacks.
Wait. No
snacks
?
Who doesn’t get
snacks at the movies? Who?
Self-conscious of my gluttony, I
back away, wielding my embarrassing armload of junk food, face flaming hot.
“I guess I should go find myself a seat. Yeah. I should go do that. The previews
have probably already started and those are my favorite
part…”
Stop talking
Daphne!
Dexter nods and grapples for a
few more napkins.
Oh brother; between the two of
us, we have enough napkins to last us through
Armageddon.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Things Liars Say (#ThreeLittleLies
1)
1)
Lies, lies, lies; everybody tells
them....
Greyson Keller didn't
intend to lie; it just came out that way. So when the object of that lie shows up on
her doorstep, she is confused, shocked, and
embarrassed.
Calvin Thompson is an Ivy
Leaguer, attending University over an hour away, playing rugby and basically not
giving a crap. So imagine his surprise when some guy named Greyson begins rumors
online that they're dating -- the only logical solution is to drive an hour and
confront him...
Be there when Greyson and Cal
finally meet face-to-face because.
Sparks. Will.
Fly.
Yes, sparks fly. That's
why this book is intended for those 17+
Foul language, and sexual
content.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Things Liars Hide
(#ThreeLittleLies 2)
(#ThreeLittleLies 2)
Authors Note: This novella,
along with all others in this series, is a standalone with no cliffhanger. You're
welcome.
Secrets, secrets, everybody has
them...
Tabitha Thompson is many
things, but a liar isn't one of them. Unless you count the sexy secret she's
spent a year hiding from everyone: her friends, her family. The secret she never
counted on anyone discovering...
One chance
encounter.
One clumsy
mistake.
One sexy
discovery.
Now, only Collin Keller stands
in the way of her secret--and everyone else. And he just may be the one who ruins it
all...
Tabitha Thompson, you
secretive little sneak...
This novella is intended for
those 17+ and older: Contains foul language, cursing, and sexual content. PLEASE
NOTE: This book is told through alternating POV and social media content in the
form of Texts, Emails and Book within a Book....
Word Count: Approx
32,000
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">Retail marketing and advertiser by trade, I am a
university club advisor with a passion for creating awkward fictional characters that
readers can relate to. That are real. I enjoy writing fast-paced, humorous
manuscripts with empowered female characters.
university club advisor with a passion for creating awkward fictional characters that
readers can relate to. That are real. I enjoy writing fast-paced, humorous
manuscripts with empowered female characters.
style="font-family:georgia,serif;">I love: reading, travelling, meeting new people....
latte's, rainy days, and sweater weather.
latte's, rainy days, and sweater weather.
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