Her Wish
HER WISH by Sophie H. Morgan
E-Original published
by Swerve
Publication Date: May
2, 2017
ISBN: 9781250129215
Price: $3.99
Description
"Her
Wish is fun, charming, and OMG, why haven't I been reading Genie romances
before now? Sophie H. Morgan's wit and imagination made me an instant fan. I
want a Genie of my own!" - New York
Times bestselling author Larissa Ione
This playboy has finally met his match...
Charlie’s
sick of Genies. Too beautiful, too sure of themselves, too
"celebrity". And way too eager to grant wishes in the worldwide
Lottery that entices mortals into buying tickets in the hope of winning their
desires. Charlie would rather walk naked through Times Square than buy a
ticket. Unfortunately, her friend springs for one in Charlie’s name – and it
gets picked. She refuses to get sucked in and has no qualms about saying so to
the famously arrogant, devilishly handsome Genie at her door. Sexy Blue Eyes
will just have to take no for an answer.
Jax Michaels
would love to take no for an answer. As the most famous Genie on the East
Coast, known for his sex appeal, his cheeky interviews, and his roguish style
of granting wishes, he only has to turn to the next in line to find a willing
partner. After all, every woman wants him – except, apparently, Charlie
Donahue, who throws back his charming words, sneers at his calculated grins,
and refuses to even consider wishing. Jax isn't a fool. He’s prepared to wash
his hands of this infuriating, appealing female…until his Handler informs him
that quitting is not an option. And if he can’t talk her into wishing, Jax will
have to try playing a little dirty.
"Morgan’s
debut takes a romance trope (plain Jane heroine/gorgeous rich hero), adds a
dash of fantasy and a sprinkling of humor, and pulls the reader into the
entertaining start of a new series (although it stands solidly on its
own)" - Library Journal
Author Bio
Sophie
H. Morgan is a
paranormal romance author with a love for hot guys, sassy heroines, and HEAs
that seem impossible. When not at the keyboard working out ways to drive her
characters into each other’s arms, you can find her rambling about the English
countryside with her four crazy spaniels, or devouring yet another romance
novel with another bag of cookies. The spaniels sometimes help with the latter.
Sophie is the author of Her
Wish and His Command in the Playboy Genie series from SMP Swerve.
Author Links
Facebook: www.facebook.com/sophiehmorganauthor
Twitter: @SophieHMorgan
Jax extended the rose, twirled it
in a theatrical flourish. “For you.”
Charlie stared at it as she would a
free brownie—with deep suspicion. Seeing no alternative without being childish,
but very reluctant, she reached for the rose. As she clasped the stem, his hand
covered hers.
She stifled the instantaneous hitch
in her breath. He radiated heat, and again that seductive apple scent curled
around her. Rough calluses stroked her skin.
As though sensing weakness, Jax
leaned forward. The golden flecks in his eyes that marked him as a Genie
danced. Always she’d seen the flecks with suspicion. Now she had to admit the
fascination of those mesmerizing specks, the absolute allure of this man.
His mouth curved. “Perfection for
perfection,” he whispered.
Aaaand like that, the spell was
broken.
Charlie edged away from him, the
rose tugged from his grasp. She looked over his shoulder at Kate.
“Here, Kate.” She walked from
around the counter to where her muddled friend was standing. She thrust the
bloom to her. “You might as well have this.”
Kate blinked. “But Charlie . . .”
“We both know you’re a lot closer
to perfection than I am.”
Charlie twisted to face the Genie.
He was frowning, but the grimace cleared from his face as soon as he saw her
looking.
She crossed her arms under her
breasts. “In fact, he can give you the wish, too.” She lowered her chin.
“Because I don’t want it.”
The bell above the door jangled.
Charlie’s gaze skimmed toward the
entrance, the challenging stare broken. A skinny young man stood in the doorway,
face shielded by his vibrant green anorak’s hood. As she watched, he pushed it
back, allowing blond-cum-ginger hair to spike from his head.
“Bleh,” he said in a surprisingly
rich voice, though disgust coated the words like slime. “I got hit by puddle water.
Do you know how many toxins thrive in puddles?”
“No, and I don’t want to.” Jax
shifted, drawing her attention to him. He caught her gaze. “This is my
assistant, Josh Lovett.”
“Hi.” The assistant—Josh—unzipped
his anorak, wrinkling his nose as slush melted from the material. He flicked
his hand. Drops of sleet scattered, peppering the surrounding books like
buckshot.
Charlie winced. There went a week’s
profits.
“Josh.” Jax’s voice carried a tired
warning. “Remember, we’re in a bookshop?”
“Yeah?” Josh glanced around at the
books, eyes alight with curiosity. He turned stricken when he realized what
he’d done. “Oh, Lord. Oh, Ms. Donahue, I’m so sorry. Let me pay.” He reached
into his wide anorak pocket and extracted a black leather wallet. As his elbow drew
back, it knocked into the waiting pile of books Charlie had stacked on the
recommended table. They tumbled with multiple thumps.
Josh turned horrified eyes to her,
scarlet blazing in his cheeks. “Oh, Lord. I am so sorry.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or
cry. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Honestly, I’ll pay.” Josh bent to
collect the books. His foot suddenly skidded on a small puddle of melted slush,
and he collapsed in a heap. His wallet shot out of his hand like a football and
knocked into the display of cupcakes near the counter.
They froze in midfall.
Charlie blinked at the suspended
cupcakes. They hovered as if someone had taken a photo before they floated back
to their stand, which had returned to the countertop.
As Jax gestured, the books Josh had
bumped into drifted into the air and arranged themselves into a neat pile
awaiting a move. Even the tiny droplets that had sprayed her books were sucked
into the ether, as though somebody had held a blow dryer on each one.
Her jaw firmed. Darned if she’d say
thank you.
“I’m so sorry, Jax.” Josh scrambled
to his feet. “You can take it off my wages.”
Before Jax could speak, Charlie
butted in. “He will not, at least not on my behalf.” She glared at Jax, who
only raised his eyebrows.
Josh glanced between the two of
them, his satchel hefted back onto his shoulder. “Oh, no,” he said, earnest.
“Jax wouldn’t have—”
“Come, come, Charlotte—Charlie,”
Jax interrupted with smooth ease. His smile was devastating this time, a
naughty element to its curve. “Let’s play nice.”
“I’m not playing, Mr. Michaels.”
“Jax.”
“Mr. Michaels.”
“Jax.”
Charlie huffed in frustration.
“What I said stands. I don’t want the wish.”
Josh laughed from his position by
the counter. He shook his head. “That’s a good one.”
A muscle twitched near her eye.
“I’m serious.”
Kate, who’d had her nose buried in
the rose Charlie had handed her, lifted her head. “Oh, no,” she said, keen to
be included. Her eyes flirted with Jax. “She’s telling the truth. She doesn’t
like wishes.”
“Then why did she buy a ticket?” Josh
placed his satchel onto the counter. He kept a distance of ten inches between
himself and the cupcake stand.
“Oh, she didn’t. I bought one for
her.”
“So she’s the real winner,” Charlie
interjected.
Josh shook his head. “She put your
name down on the slip. It doesn’t matter who bought the ticket, only who’s
named. Anyway.” He grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a fantastic
opportunity.”
“You should be grateful to have a
friend like Kate,” Jax said. He winked at Kate, whose fiery blush must have
drained all the blood from the rest of her body.
Charlie’s teeth ground together.
“So, here is the contract.” Josh
spoke over what would’ve been Charlie’s retort, sliding a bundle of papers from
his satchel. He flipped to the last page where a pink tab marked a place for a
signature. “Sign here and your dreams come true.”
“Uh-uh. I’m not signing anything.”
Alarm made Josh’s eyebrows draw
together. “Ms. Donahue, it’s only procedure. It just says you can’t have more
than one wish, and that WFY is not responsible for any result from a wish you
make that you don’t like.”
“Convenient.”
“Charlie.” Jax waited until she
looked at him. He was close enough that she could taste apples. “I can sense
you’re a prideful woman. One who longs to make her own way in life. It’s
admirable.” He reached for her hand. His fingers caressed her palm. “But don’t
let pride deny you such a gift. You like your shop? You could have fifty of
them. Any man could be at your feet. You can have anything you desire. You just
have to let go.” His face was suddenly a handsbreadth away. His breath
whispered over her face. “Reach out and take it.”
Charlie ignored the sizzle of her
skin, the flutters in her belly.
She held his gaze. “Bull.”
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