I barely have time to take a shower or comb my hair so the fact that my buddy has written multiple novels since I met her amazes me.
When I first met T.B. her travel stories and 50 Year Project intrigued me. I thought … man this chick’s journey is so cool. What’s on deck? What’s she gonna do next?
That’s when the novels came and I thought holy crap! She’s doing this, she’s really doing this.
And I was just happy to have known her and come along for the ride, because it’s been an inspirational one. As a writer, you’re always pulling for your fellow buddies to make it, and T.B. has definitely done that.
She’s got this one character … you know the one that just keeps coming back, the one that makes you wonder at the end of a book … Well what happened? How’d she get there? How’d they meet? What’s gonna happen tomorrow?
She’s got one that’s interesting enough to inspire prequel.
T.B. Markinson, my bud, has brought Lizzie back. With A Clueless Woman making its debut this week, I knew I wanted to be part of her promotion team. So here’s a sneak peak for those of you ready to find out more …
Graduate student Lizzie Petrie feels more comfortable around books than people. Although an expert in the Hitler Youth, she’s a novice in love. Her former lesbian lover is blackmailing her, and not even those closest to Lizzie know the full story of their abusive relationship.
When visiting high school English teacher Sarah crosses Lizzie’s path at the campus, their attraction is instant, but not without complications. As they start to spend more time together, suspicions arise from both women in this sexy piece of LGBT fiction.
Plenty of good-natured teasing takes place between lovers as well as between PhD students in this lesbian contemporary romance. No relationship path ever runs smoothly, and oftentimes, those who can’t keep their mouth shut hasten necessary confrontation.
Lizzie finds herself buried in a mess of lies in this romantic comedy. The harder she tries to keep Sarah and the rest of her friends from finding out the truth about her first girlfriend, the more endearingly clueless she becomes.
What’s in store for A Clueless Woman …
“I feel like a lady of the night.” Meg crammed the wad of twenties I’d just furtively handed over into the pocket of her jeans. “Of course, if things don’t turn around for me soon, that might be my future calling. Do ya think William would pay to sleep with me? He was never shy about his desires.”
I assumed she’d added that juicy detail about my colleague to bait me. No, to remind me of what she was capable of and to keep me in line. Years of falling for her self-pity and emotional blackmail had taught me to steel myself and ignore Meg to the best of my ability, but I still found myself saying, “I can’t keep handing over wads of money.”
“Why? We both know you aren’t even close to draining your trust fund, not even a quarter of it.” Meg leveled her deep-green gaze on my face.
“I’m not responsible for you.”
“Responsible for me?” She laughed, bitterly. “Have you been attending Al-Anon meetings or something?”
I sighed. “I need to go.” I hoisted my book bag over my shoulder. Meg feigned lunging at me, and I jumped back. We were in an alley behind a coffee shop, and Meg was blocking the street exit. The door to the coffee shop didn’t have a handle, and I assumed it could only be opened from the inside. I moved back, against the wall, inching closer to safety.
“Must be nice to have the luxury of being a student.” Her abrasive smile alerted me to tread carefully. My mind flooded with memories of invoking Meg’s wrath. She crossed her arms, revealing she had no intention of budging. “How are William and Janice? It’s been a long time since I was welcome to join the weekly study sessions.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, I know. I bet William would pay big bucks for me to tell him all about us.” She ran a finger down my face, and I willed myself not to cringe. “The things you used to do to me and what you begged me to do to you.” She reached for my belt buckle, but I backpedaled, much to her delight. “I bet that’d get him off.” She squared her shoulders. “Or you could just meet me next week.” Meg patted the wad in her pocket.
A car horn blared, and Meg spun to view the commotion, allowing me to sidle past. Once out of harm’s way, on the sidewalk, I turned. “Keep going to your meetings, okay?” I said.
Meg’s eyes softened but then quickly coalesced into anger. “Get off your high horse, Lizzie. You aren’t perfect. And don’t forget”—she stabbed a finger in the air—“next week.”
If you’re interested in finding out what happens next make sure to visit Amazon.com and get your copy.