Monday, October 20, 2014


PROFILE (Social Media #5) 
By @JAHuss
Publication Date: October 22nd, 2014
Novella (100ish pages)
Adult Contemporary Romance
All the best fairytale princesses have the most horrific pasts. Mine just happens to be more horrific than most.

Fantasizing over Vaughn Asher was a dream. Meeting Vaughn Asher was a fairytale. Loving Vaughn Asher was my downfall. 

The past is always there. Waiting. Waiting to expose you. Waiting to ruin you. Waiting to take you back. 

Sometimes not even a prince can save you.

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Excerpt One:

The shouting starts as I exit, but I just flip my sunglasses down and push right through them. I’ve been doing this for twenty­seven years. Some encounters have been more stressful than others, but I’m not the kind of movie star who punches out photographers. They are making a living. Yeah, they are parasites who make a living off me, but fuck it. I really have no beef with them. In fact, most of them are nice when they’re not stalking you.

But then I see that bitch from Buzz Hollywood. She steps right in front of me and sticks that microphone in my face. “What will Jasinda think when she finds out you’re cheating on her?”

I actually stop to laugh. Ray grabs my forearm and tugs, trying to get me moving again. But I shrug him off. “I hope,” I tell the reporter as I look her in the eye, “she feels ashamed of herself. Jasinda”—I am facing the camera now, so I address her directly—“you’re a lying bitch. If you’re even pregnant, I’m up for a DNA test any time you are. I have a wife now and her name is Grace Kinsella-­Asher.” And then I turn back to look at all of them as they hover close behind me. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get her a coffee and a muffin. Blueberry,” I add. “Grace likes blueberry. And she likes iced tall sugar­free caramel, nonfat, light ice, Starbucks double shot on ice. At least”—I stop to have a chuckle—“when she has money on her Starbucks app, she does.”

“Does she have money on her app, Vaughn?” a reporter from an internet blog asks me.

He’s nice, and funny. And never too serious about what he prints. “Her coffee worries are over, yes.”

Now they chuckle with me and I turn away and start walking down the street to the Starbucks. Half of them follow, but they stay behind me. Like a little train of leeches—annoying, but harmless.

See, this is how you handle the media. You don’t have to give them what they want, you just have to give them something they can use. Now they have two factoids about Grace to run with. Tomorrow everyone will be drinking that coffee concoction and the blueberry muffins will be sold out.

The day after tomorrow, they will be after the personal details of someone else and no one will give a shit about us until the next movie comes out, or I get nominated for an award, or Grace gets pregnant.

God. that makes me smile like an idiot and when I look over at Ray, he’s shaking his head. “What?” I ask him.

He holds up a hand. “Nothing.”

We turn right at 16th Street and head down towards the Starbucks.

“But,” he continues, “you have a stupid grin on your face. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you are in love.”

“I am in love.” I let out a breath. “I love this girl. I’m gonna marry her again and get her pregnant, and spend the rest of my life bossing her ass around and pissing her off.” I glance back at Ray. “She likes it. But she also likes to fight it.”

“Mmm­hmm. If you say so, boss.”

Excerpt Two:

I stand at the top of the landing, watching Conner make his way through the crowd of police and witnesses, and just as he opens the door to exit the building, a familiar dark­haired girl gets up in his face.
She’s one angry chick. Her manicured finger is pointing, her sensible nurse shoe is tapping, and her electric pink scrubs make her very hard to ignore. Even for Conner, the master at indifference.

He stands still for a moment as the girl says something, and then he turns and points straight at me.

And that’s when I see her face.

Bebe Chambers.

She actually pushes Conner out of the way, almost mows down a uniformed police officer, and heads straight for the stairs.

I look over at that asshole detective to see if he’s gonna stop her, but he’s sporting a smug
smile. OK. Here we go. My very first in­person meeting with Bebe the BFF and it’s not gonna be pretty.

“You,” she accuses me loudly. Loud enough to make people stop talking. “You are the reason
she’s gone.”

I walk down the stairs slowly and put on my movie­star smile. “Miss Chambers. It’s unfortunate that we have to meet under these circumstances—”

“Oh, no,” she says, putting her hand up as I reach the bottom of the steps. She’s tall. A lot taller than Grace. And she’s seething. “You do not get to pretend like we are meeting under normal circumstances, Mr. Asher.” My name comes off like an insult. “My best friend was fine for ten years and you come along and rip her life apart in a matter of weeks. If something happens to her, I will—” And then her eyes well up and tears burst forth. “I’ll... I’ll make you pay somehow. If she’s hurt. If that freak has her again. If you did something to her and dumped her body—”

“Whoa, Bebe. You can’t really believe that I’d hurt her?”

“I really can, Mr. Asher. I read that spread about you in that magazine. They paint a pretty convincing picture of a sociopath.”

“Socio—” I can’t even say the word. “Look, Bebe. I love her. I realize we’ve had an unusual start to our relationship, and I understand that there are some very unique problems we have to work through. But you can’t really think I’d hurt her.”

“Then where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Her entire Filthy Blue Bird account is gone from Twitter! Just gone! She was on there for years! And now it’s gone!”

“Miss Chambers, is it?” That asshole detective appears by her side. “We’ve contacted the corporate office and we’re trying to retrieve her account, if that helps. We need to make sure there’s no more incriminating evidence against Mr. Asher before we allow it to be deleted. Come, have a seat over here and let’s try and piece together what might’ve happened.” Bebe is led off and takes a seat on the couch I slept on last night. I follow them, but the detective stops me with a hand. “You stay there. I’d like her opinion without your interference.”

Interference? Now I’m interference?

Excerpt Three:

I reluctantly admit, that girl in the movie is my Grace. 

“Vaughn,” Felicity says as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We’re gonna find her. Just write her a nice message in case she has a chance to log in. If he deleted her account, then maybe she’ll have an opportunity to get to that computer.” 

I nod at her and take my attention back to the secret accounts we made. I pull up the pictures we traded. Naked selfies. This makes me smile at the memory. It was only a couple weeks ago, but I feel like she’s been a part of my life for ages. I feel like I’ve known her forever. Like our souls are connected by some ethereal string that was stretched taut from our absence. But the moment our eyes met back in Saint Thomas, we reconnected. We were pulled together by the forces of a long­-lost love. 

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this girl. I feel like she is my soulmate. 

My fingers find the keyboard and I try to put that into a tweet. Try to give her hope with a few words and some well­-placed hashtags. 

Master @mrinvsman 

There’s no possible way I won’t find you. Our hearts are tethered by love & fate. I’m tugging on that string ­ feel me? #OnMyWay #Soulmates 

I press send and hold my breath, hoping against hope for a reply. 

But the minutes tick off and I get nothing. Just nothing. 

My phone rings and jolts me out of my funk. “Vaughn Asher.” 

“Mr. Asher, this is Detective Torrino. We’re suspending the search. Grace Kinsella just called Channel 9 and stated she’s accepted a job in Singapore that was offered to her in Vegas last week in order to get away from you.” 

Singapore. “Well, how the hell do you know that was her?” 

“She confirmed her social security number, her childhood address, and her bank account number. He best friend Bebe Chambers confirms it was her voice.” 

“So? My daughter can get that information. That’s not a confirmation of identity. And maybe she’s being forced to say those things? How about a picture? How about a FaceTime? How about you ask her to log into her other Twitter account and read the message that’s posted there?” 

“The case is closed, Mr. Asher. We’re satisfied she left of her own accord.” 

“Maybe she’s being threatened?” 

“I asked her—” 

“You can’t ask her, Torrino. If she’s being told to say something, then she’s going to deny it. And that wasn’t the job she was offered—” 

“We’ve shut down the case, Asher. You can appeal to my boss if you like.” 

I’m just about to protest again when the line goes dead. 

“What just happened?” Conner asks. 

“They shut down the fucking case. They say she called them and said she’s taking a job in Singapore to get away from me.”

Haven't started this series yet?

Introducing Home (Social Media #6)

HOME (Social Media #6 – FINAL BOOK)
By @JAHuss
Publication Date: November 5, 2014
Novella (150 pages)
Adult Contemporary Romance

I just want my Grace back. 

I want the girl I found sending me dirty tweets on Saint Thomas. I want the girl who reluctantly gave in to my charms and let me boss her around. I want the girl who sent me to my knees and made me imagine what her fairy tale would look like with me in it.

I just want to move on.

I want to plan the future and think about kids and preschools and college funds. I want everything she ever wanted, and I want us to make it happen together. 

But the media needs more from us. More dirt. More pain. More payment for past transgressions.

You can’t change the past. And even though Grace is ready to put her demons to bed, mine are just starting to get restless. Because when you’ve silenced as many enemies as I have over the years, you know that secret won’t stay buried forever.

About the Author
J. A. Huss likes to write new adult books that make you think and keep you guessing. Her favorite genre to read is space opera, but since practically no one reads those books, she writes new adult science fiction, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, urban fantasy, and books about Junco (who refuses to be saddled with a label). 

She has an undergraduate degree in horses, (yes, really–Thank you, Colorado State University) and a master’s degree in forensic toxicology from the University of Florida. She used to have a job driving around Colorado doing pretty much nothing but shooting the breeze with farmers, but now she just writes, runs the New Adult Addiction and Clean Teen Reads Book Blogs, and runs an online science classroom for homeschoolers.
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