By: Missy Johnson & Ashley Suzanne
Releasing May 12, 2015
What happens when you start falling for your worst enemy? Fans of Abbi Glines and Monica Murphy will relish this addictive novel of smoking-hot seduction—and revenge gone so wrong, it’s right.
I wasn’t always this jaded. I had a clear head, things I wanted out of life, and a concise plan on how to get there. For being only twenty-one, I pretty much had it all figured out. Until the day my cousin died.
I spent months going over all the details surrounding her death, trying to figure out how I missed the signs, and the only thing I could come up with was she would still be alive if it wasn’t for one person: her professor. So I transferred to his college, enrolled in his class, and set my new plan in motion.
First I’ll seduce him. Then I’ll ruin him. I’ve just got to stay strong and not let his charm and my emotions get the best of me. Because someone has to pay for her death. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to break Noah.
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/02/breaking-noah-by-missy-johnson-and.html
Author Info: Missy Johnson
Missy Johnson is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in a small town in Victoria, Australia, with her husband and her confused pets (a dog who thinks that she is a cat, a cat who thinks he is a dog . . . you get the picture). When she’s not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Author Info: Ashley Suzanne
Ashley Suzanne has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a youngster, she was always creating stories and talking to her imaginary friends. Thankfully, her parents also carried this love of fiction, and helped her grow into the bestselling author she is today. When Ashley isn’t coming up with her next story, you’ll most likely find her on the couch, telling her husband all about her new book boyfriend, or spending quality time with her two gremlins . . . er, adorable children.
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter| Goodreads
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“So, we’ve discussed the main plot of the novel. Now we need to search out the subplots. What else was going on? Do the secondary characters possess any outstanding characteristics that would encourage . . .” How is this even warranted as a curriculum for a third-year student? I can remember doing this when I was in high school. At least I know I’ll ace the class—not that it matters, anyway.
Before he has a chance to finish giving out the assignment, the majority of the class begins shuffling around, gathering their belongings and walking toward the door.
“Okay, I guess our time for today is done. Finish the last five chapters before we meet on Wednesday.” A few students groan as they’re leaving. I take this as my cue as well.
I’m surprised at how quickly time passes. When the room is completely empty, I gather all my belongings and toss them into my bag. Taking a deep breath, I slowly stand and move toward his desk. He’s watching me with a curious expression. I half smile, drop my bag to the floor, and sit on the desk in front of his . . . legs crossed like a lady, of course.
“So, Zara . . . that’s a rather unique name.”
“Is it?” I raise my eyebrows. “Nothing seems unusual anymore. The girl at the gas station on the way here had a name tag that said Joya. You have stars calling their babies things like North West. Zara is normal in comparison.”
“Fair point,” he says and laughs. It’s an engaging laugh that makes me want to smile, but I don’t. “So, your transcripts say you were taking classes at a community college and were supposed to transfer in at the beginning of the term. Why are you just now arriving?” His brow furrows.
“Personal reasons. I’m very lucky I didn’t have to wait until the beginning of the next term.” Truth be told, I barely mustered the courage to show my face here. I had panic attacks for weeks, my mom begging me to stay behind and go to a state school, but I remembered why I was doing all of this. So, I put my big-girl panties on, gave myself a pep talk, and drove across two states to get here. And I was very lucky. Had the admissions direction not known Karly I would have been sent packing, but the man felt pity for me, which worked out in my favor.
“Your high school transcripts have credits from all over the place. Why’d you move around so much?” he asks.
“Army brat,” I nonchalantly say. To anyone with common sense, that’s all the explanation needed. Service members don’t stay in one place for too long, and neither do their families.
“Ah.” He nods, getting it right away. “Must be hard packing your life up all the time?”
Back it up, sir. I’m here to get in your head, not the other way around.
I shrug, not liking where this is going. My life is just that . . . mine. I don’t need anyone poking his nose around where it doesn’t belong. Especially him. I’m here to do one thing, and I won’t let his attempts at kindness distract me from it. Gotta keep the target locked in the crosshairs.
“It gets easier. I’ve already read through the syllabus for this class and I’m pretty confident I’m going to rock it.”
He raises his eyebrow and leans back in his chair.
“Is that so? Don’t get too cocky. I’ve heard I can be a pretty hard professor.”
So I’ve heard, you perverted fuck.
“I’m not cocky. Just confident,” I say, my voice cool. “If that’s all, may I be excused? I’m supposed to meet with my counselor before she leaves for the afternoon.”
He stares at me for a moment and then nods. “We’ll be analyzing Pride and Prejudice on Wednesday. We spent last week reading the material, so if you need the extra time to catch up to everyone, that’s fine, just don’t take too long. There’s a few sheets that go along with the book to document the characteristics of each character. You’ll need to get with a partner for those notes. It will be required for the final at the end of the semester.” This is his version of hard? I’ll eat him for breakfast.
“Thanks, Professor Bain, but if I were being honest, Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books. I’ve read it at least five times. Thanks for the heads-up, though. I’m sure I’ll be able to help anyone else that falls behind. Who knows, one of these boys could end up being my Mr. Darcy.”
I wink at him and walk out of the classroom, leaving him behind, lost for words. Mosttwenty-one-year-olds don’t read, let alone read the classics. Or for fun.
Zara: 1, Professor Bain: 0