Hi there! To celebrate the release of ON THE CORNER OF LOVE AND HATE by Nina Bocci, I'll be sharing with you the first chapter of this wonderful story (along with an amazing giveaway).
Take a look!
For fans of Christina Lauren and Lauren Layne comes a delightfully sassy and sexy romance about a campaign manager who reluctantly works with the local Lothario to help revamp his image for the upcoming mayoral elections, only to discover that he’s hiding something that can turn both their lives upside down.
What’s a campaign manager’s worst nightmare? A smooth-talking charmer who’s never met a scandal that he didn’t like.
When Emmanuelle Peroni’s father—and mayor of her town—asks her to help rehab Cooper Endicott’s image, she’s horrified. Cooper drives her crazy in every way possible. But he’s also her father’s protégé, and she can’t say no to him without him finding out the reason why: Cooper and her have a messy past. So Emmanuelle reluctantly launches her father’s grand plan to get this Casanova someone to settle down with and help him lose his lothario reputation.
Cooper Endicott wanted to run for Mayor, but he never wanted the drama that went with it. Now that he’s on the political hamster wheel, the other candidates are digging up everything from his past. Even though he’s doing all the right things, his colorful love life is the sticking point for many of the conservative voters. He wants to win, badly, and he knows that if he wants any chance of getting a vote from the female population, he needs to change his image. The only problem? He might just be falling in love with the one person he promised not to pursue: the Mayor’s off-limits daughter.
A perfect blend of humor and heart, On the Corner of Love and Hate is the first in a new series from USA TODAY bestselling author Nina Bocci.
What’s a campaign manager’s worst nightmare? A smooth-talking charmer who’s never met a scandal that he didn’t like.
When Emmanuelle Peroni’s father—and mayor of her town—asks her to help rehab Cooper Endicott’s image, she’s horrified. Cooper drives her crazy in every way possible. But he’s also her father’s protégé, and she can’t say no to him without him finding out the reason why: Cooper and her have a messy past. So Emmanuelle reluctantly launches her father’s grand plan to get this Casanova someone to settle down with and help him lose his lothario reputation.
Cooper Endicott wanted to run for Mayor, but he never wanted the drama that went with it. Now that he’s on the political hamster wheel, the other candidates are digging up everything from his past. Even though he’s doing all the right things, his colorful love life is the sticking point for many of the conservative voters. He wants to win, badly, and he knows that if he wants any chance of getting a vote from the female population, he needs to change his image. The only problem? He might just be falling in love with the one person he promised not to pursue: the Mayor’s off-limits daughter.
A perfect blend of humor and heart, On the Corner of Love and Hate is the first in a new series from USA TODAY bestselling author Nina Bocci.
Read my review about this book following this link.
You can participate in this amazing giveaway!
Follow the steps and cross your fingers!
Also, you can head to the post linked and read my review about ON THE CORNER OF LOVE AND HATE.
With all that said, now I let you to read the first chapter of the book. All you have to do is scroll down a little bit.
Chapter One
Thud.
Whoosh. Slap.
Thud.
Whoosh. Slap. The trio of irksome sounds repeated another half-dozen times. My
eyes darted upward, a silent prayer falling from my lips.
Dear
God, please give me the strength not to shove that tennis ball somewhere that
would require surgery. Amen.
My
coworker casually leaned back in his chair, his long legs out- stretched and
crossed at the ankles on the shiny surface of the conference room table.
Beneath his brown leather loafers sat a report.
His
unfinished-yet-due-tomorrow report. I marveled at his ability to multitask. It
would have been more appropriate if he had been, say, working. Instead, he was
tossing a ball against the conference room wall with one hand while texting
with the other. Even though he didn’t take his eyes off his phone screen, he
caught the ball every single time. If I hadn’t been so annoyed, I would have
actually been impressed.
The
clock ticked against the pale yellow wall above his head. With each passing
tick, the ball struck with a thwack to its right. “Cooper, could you please
stop?” I finally said, rubbing my temples to ease the headache that was
forming.
Thud.
Whoosh. Slap.
“Cooper,” I repeated, glancing up from my
laptop. “Hello?” Thud, whoosh, slap was the only response I got. Sliding back
my chair, I stood up and walked around the long maple conference table. It was
only when I got close enough to see the scantily clad woman in his text window
that I noticed the wireless earbuds that were blasting music into his ears. As
the ball left his hand, I touched his shoulder.
Startled,
he lost his grip on the ball, sending it sailing behind him. “What’s up?” he
sputtered, quickly pulling his earbuds out. I didn’t miss his hand sliding his
phone into his pocket. He looked every bit like a teenager caught red-handed by
the principal.
“Are
you kidding me?” I exclaimed. “You’ve had music on this entire time? I read
nearly two pages of the brewery expansion proposal out loud to you twenty
minutes ago!”
At
least he had the decency to look remorseful. “I thought you were talking to
yourself, so I”—he motioned to the black Beats— “figured I’d give you your
privacy while I caught up on work.”
My
eyebrows must have reached my hairline, because with a mildly guilty expression
he pulled his legs down from the table.
I
snorted. “Yes, I start all sentences with, ‘Cooper, what do you think about’
when I’m talking to myself. Were you just smiling and nodding for my health?” Shifting
in his seat, he straightened. I huffed.
The
small laugh lines around his mouth became more pronounced, an indication that
he was fighting back a smile. “Emmanuelle,” he purred smoothly.
“Don’t
Emmanuelle me,” I clapped back. “That tone may work on your fan club, but not
me.”
He
held his arms up in a defensive position. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What did I
miss?” He grabbed for the papers in my hand.
Holding
them back against my chest, I scowled. “Hope Lake Brewing Company. Expansion.
Asking for input before it goes to the town council for approval.”
He
whistled and rocked back in his chair. “Council is going to reject anything
that comes across their desk from them. They hate the ‘vibe’ the brew house
brings, and the addition would make the council’s heads explode.”
I
nodded. “Yep, which is why the guys asked us for help. To try and edit the
proposal to appeal to them. It’s also why I booked us the conference room for
this meeting that you just Tindered your way through.”
“That’s
not a word, and I wasn’t—” he began, patting his pocket absently. Probably
making sure the evidence was tucked away safely.
I
held up my hand. “Save it. I don’t care what or who you’re doing. Just that
you’re not paying attention. Again.”
When
the owners of HLBC, Drew and Luke Griffin, first came to our department, Cooper
and I had championed their proposal to build a brewing company, tasting room,
and outdoor entertainment space just along the lakefront. It was one of the
first projects Cooper and I had worked on together, and it was just what we’d
needed in town back then—a fun, innovative business that catered to every age.
Now, six years later, HLBC was one of Hope Lake’s most popular spots, and the
brothers were looking to expand their space to include rooms for private events
and a small restaurant. Cooper and I were supposed to be discussing how to
approach the town council about it.
Looked
like I’d just been talking to myself instead. “I’m going back to my office,
where I can work in peace,” I said. Exasperated, I started gathering up my
stuff.
After
a few seconds of awkward silence, he cleared his throat. “You’re right. I’m
sorry. Let’s go over it. Again.”
I
stacked my files, feeling my blood starting to boil. Having to repeat myself
irked me, but I needed his input whether I liked it or not.
Glancing
up, I noticed Cooper readying to say something else when our shared assistant,
Nancy, hurried in with the main office calendar and a fistful of Sharpies
clutched in her hand.
“I’ve
been searching for you two everywhere,” she said, looking wide-eyed at each of
us in turn. The conference table, at least on my side, was covered in charts,
graphs, and photos of the lake- front. On Cooper’s side—well, there was a lot
of polished maple visible.
“Did
you discuss the project?” she asked hopefully, her face falling when I shook my
head. “Okay, well, I guess you’ll handle that, uh, later. I’m sure.” She gave
me a look. “I hope,” she mouthed, then cleared her throat and pulled out the
head chair of the conference table and sat down with the main office calendar
in front of her. “It’s time for the afternoon rundown—are you ready?”
Cooper
groaned. Not at Nancy but at the calendar she had opened. It had been on my
desk this morning when I’d filled it with upcoming appointments and meetings.
By the looks of it, Nancy had managed to fill almost every empty space that
remained.
We
kept it old school at our office. Instead of using Google calendar or iCal, we
used a large paper desk calendar with a color-coded legend, labels, and tabs to
keep our government office running like clockwork. It’s not as though we hadn’t
tried to modernize, but some of the, ahem, older department staff were frosty
toward change.
Nancy,
Cooper, and I worked at the Hope Lake Community Development Office on the top
floor of Borough Building. In a small town like Hope Lake, my department was
sort of the home base for everything. From simple things such as parade permits
to more detailed ventures—for example, helping to secure funding for business
owners like HLBC—the CDO, as we tended to call it, had its hand in pretty much
everything. It wasn’t big, but what we lacked in size and staff we made up for
in energy and results. “The upcoming week is brutal,” Nancy apologized, looking
at Cooper, who, not surprisingly, was on his phone again. “Emma, I’m afraid
you’re a bit overscheduled.” She tapped a Sharpie on the table.
I
waved a dismissive hand. “It can’t be any worse than that week the staff came
down with the flu.” I had practically run the office that week even though I
was heavily medicated myself.
“It’s
close.” She held up two fingers barely an inch apart. “You’re back-to-back
Monday. There is a pocket of time during the event this weekend with the future
Mr. Mayor here and his opponent.”
Cooper
perked up then. He knocked twice on the wooden table. “Don’t jinx me.”
Oh,
sure, you’re paying attention now. “You’re a shoo-in. People love you, Cooper.
And with the mayor already behind you, how can you not be?” Nancy assured him.
Nancy
wasn’t blowing smoke. Cooper had decided to run for office this year, and his
magnetic personality made him the perfect political candidate. He was
brilliant, liked by the majority of the town, and had confidence to spare
because he knew he was the best choice for the job. Even I could admit that,
and we were often at odds.
“Emma,
I know you wanted to have a sit-down with Drew and Luke from the brewing
company about the proposed expansion before they go to the council, but I don’t
see how it’s going to happen.”
Nancy
jotted a note onto the calendar. Over the years, we’d gotten our system down to
a science: orange for me, blue for Cooper, hot pink for our department
administrative assistant, green for Nancy, and red for the mayor, because red was
my dad’s favorite color. Blue, not surprisingly, was the color least visible on
the entire calendar. It was sporadically used, even from my vantage point,
which meant that Cooper had a light schedule this week.
Shocking.
I chewed the pen cap, irritated. Nancy continued reading off meeting after
meeting throughout the week.
“These
two on Thursday—I can probably sit in on them to give you a break, Emma,” she
offered.
Looking
over Nancy’s shoulder, I marveled at the Technicolor scheduling system. It might
have been old-fashioned, but at least it looked good.
Shaking
my head, I pointed at the partially torn yellow Post-it stuck on the edge of
the frame. That was how my father added mayoral meetings to the calendar.
Stickies. He was nothing if not professional. “No can do, my friend. You’re
going to be at a ribbon cutting with Mayor Dad.”
She
looked up, her lips a thin, flat line. “I am? He didn’t tell me.” Sighing, she
jotted the information down. “I wish he’d told me I was supposed to go, too!”
She
took her calendar duties very seriously. I for one appreciated it, and I knew
my father did, too, even if he did use his own odd system to add to it. It kept
all of us in line.
Together,
Nancy and I figured out the rest of the week, Coo- per staying silent and,
surprise surprise, on his phone. We looked over the days, pointing and crossing
out, trying in vain to find somewhere to squeeze in a last sit-down. “It’s not
going to work,” I lamented, sinking into the chair beside her.
“Well,
someone from the department needs to at least show their face at the city
events meeting,” she urged, looking pointedly at Cooper. A notebook was now on
his lap, his hand moving swiftly over the page. He didn’t look up when she said
his name or when she repeated it a few seconds later. He was too deeply
invested in whatever he was doing.
At
least he’s off the phone. Tearing the Post-it off the calendar and balling it
up in her fist, Nancy lobbed it at him. “Cooper!” she shouted, snapping her
fingers as if she were telling a dog to sit.
Fitting.
He smiled at her. “I’m listening.” “Uh-huh, we need you to take a meeting or
two on Thursday so Emma can head down to the lake to meet Drew and Luke. Unless
you’d rather take the HLBC meeting.”
“Thursday?”
he repeated, sliding his phone out from behind the notebook.
When
did he take that out? He was stealthy like a teen texting in class.
With
a shrug, he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m booked all day and I’ve got a campaign
publicity debrief at noon. That’s taking up most of the afternoon.”
“Doesn’t
that just mean you and Henry are meeting at the diner to play on Facebook and
Twitter together?” I scoffed, feeling the blood rushing to my face.
Henry
was one of my and Cooper’s oldest friends. As a teacher, he had limited time to
meet up with Cooper, so I understood Cooper’s reticence to reschedule, but—
Then
it hit me. “Wait . . . why are you having mayoral meetings during work and
school? How’s Henry getting out of class to meet you?”
Setting
his phone down, he stood and straightened his tie. “I’ll have you know, I’m
meeting him at the high school. I wish I could help, but alas—”
“You
can’t,” I finished, sliding out of my chair to stand myself. With Cooper
running for mayor of Hope Lake, the brunt of his work at the CDO was taking a
backseat. I noticed, the staff noticed, and the mayor noticed. If it had been
anyone else, they probably would have been fired, but Cooper was Hope Lake’s
golden boy. Once he was elected, we could hire someone new to replace him. But
until that happened, it fell to us to pick up his slack.
Cooper
walked toward the door, leaving his phone—aka his most prized possession—on the
conference table. Surely he would be back in for it the second he realized it
wasn’t attached to his hand.
“Wait,
you can’t leave!” Nancy called after him. “I need the theater proposal
paperwork. You guys have that meeting with the council on Monday and the mayor
wants the weekend to review the specs. Cooper, it has to be before end of day
since you have the debate tomorrow! Everything is done, right? Please tell me
it’s done.” “It’s handled,” Cooper said smoothly over his shoulder, tap- ping
his temple. “And it’s not a debate. It’s a photo op, remember? Pose, smile,
shake hands. You know, the usual.”
“Thank
God. I don’t have time today to do it if you didn’t,” she said, pretend wiping
her brow.
Smiling
broadly, he clapped his hands together. “Oh, come on, Nance. Have I ever left
you hanging?”
Her
silence spoke volumes. If she’d had the time, and the inclination, she could
have created a depressing list of how often that had happened.
Looking
uncomfortable at Nancy’s lack of response, Cooper disappeared through the door,
only to reappear two seconds later. “That would have been bad!” he said with a
tight smile, jogging in to grab the iPhone.
“Cooper,
are you sure you can’t reschedule your Thursday plans with Henry until after
work so Emma isn’t pulled in nine- teen directions?” Nancy said quickly. “It’s
just about the local sports participation in the Thanksgiving parade. They’re
looking for guidance with the floats and theming —it won’t exactly take up all
your brain space. The other is an initial meeting to see if the CDO can finally
purchase the old bank.” Nancy already had a blue Sharpie at the ready, clutched
between her fingers. “Or if you wanted to switch with Emma, you could meet with
Drew and Luke and Emma could handle the parade instead. You’d probably get some
free beer out of it.”
For
a moment, he looked like he was going to agree. His jawline ticked anxiously, a
habit he’d had since we were kids. It appeared whenever he struggled with a
decision. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself that it was happening more often
than not.
“I’m
really sorry, I can’t,” he finally said. “You know how important these meetings
are for the core of my campaign. I’ve got to run. I’m late.”
I
glanced at the clock. “It’s barely four.” “I have a thing.” “You came in at ten
because of a ‘thing.’ ” I air-quoted it be- cause although he said those things
were for the mayoral campaign, I didn’t believe him. Call it years of
experience or just a gut feeling. “Cooper, I need you to focus. You’re all over
the place, and things are going to start falling through the cracks here. We
can’t afford any missteps. Not when we’re under a microscope. The council is
looking for any reason to put the screws in this department.”
Cooper’s
opponent, Kirby Rogers, had been on the town council for the past few years. He
had made it his mission to strip the CDO—funding, staff, all of it gone.
With
nothing but a grimace, Cooper left, leaving no opening for discussion. I shook
my head at his retreating form.
“Forget
him, I’ll figure it out,” I said, glancing between the calendar with the work
appointments and my nearly empty personal calendar. “I can pop over to the
brewery and see Drew and Luke on my way home Tuesday or Friday night. They owe
me dinner, anyway,” I said with a weak laugh, an attempt at loosening the
anxiety-ridden ball in my stomach. How am I going to accomplish all of this?
“Just see when they’re free.” I tapped away on my phone. Making a note, I
double-checked my iPhone’s calendar as Nancy read off the rest of the upcoming
schedule.
“Emma,”
she said with a heavy sigh, “I don’t want you to over- work yourself.”
“I’m
fine. It’s an adjustment we’re going to have to get used to since we’re going
to be picking up all the Cooper slack,” I insisted, knowing that she was always
worried about me in a big-sisterly sort of way. “Promise,” I said after seeing
her frown.
Months
ago, before he had decided to run for mayor and before he had become so
distracted by the election, Cooper had been an asset. I longed for those days.
He had a gift, an ability to coax the very best of ideas out of you, and he
transformed them into solid plans that we then presented to Mayor Dad and the
town council. His
undivided input would have been valuable here.
That
part of Cooper I respected and enjoyed working with. Pre-candidate Cooper.
Except lately, so much had changed. I missed the focused Cooper. The guy who
would pull together a presentation in just a few hours. The guy I could count
on to bring the best ideas out of me when I thought I had hit a wall. Or even
the guy who got his work done on time. I hated myself a little bit because I
was missing that coworking partnership. We did make a good team when we weren’t
arguing.
“Not
for anything, but you’d think he’d want to head over to Hope Lake Brewing
Company to see the guys.”
“His
head was so buried in his phone, he probably didn’t hear you mention them.”
Nancy
nodded. “What do you think? Is this going to get better or worse as the
campaign progresses?” She packed up her Sharpies and hoisted the large calendar
off the table, mindful not to drop any of the Post-its and papers tacked to it.
I
slung my arm over her shoulder. “Worse.
So much worse.”
