First Comes Revenge Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)

Usually, nothing good comes after the phrase, 'Wait, I can explain.' But just wait one second, because I can explain. I can explain why I’m hiring male strippers. I can explain the want ads for saucy male companionship I’m posting. I can even explain pretending to date the city’s most notorious playboy. It’s all for revenge. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but mine is going to be spicy, sizzling, and hilarious. My ex, Vaughn, cheated, stole from me, and worse. I refused to be the lovable, heartbroken heroine who hides under a pile of tissues and ice cream pints. Oh no, not me. So when the universe offers me the perfect crescendo to my plan, I know I can’t refuse. Jameson Wolfe, Vaughn’s arch-nemesis and business rival, wants to help me get back at my ex. We’re going to fake falling head over heels for each other and then rub it all in Vaughn’s face. Jameson has his own agenda that I should probably, maybe definitely, be worried about. But how wrong could this go? Jameson may be the city’s most notorious playboy, dangerously handsome, and filthy rich, but he’s practically allergic to commitments. We’ll emotionlessly fake date for a few weeks and cap it all off with an appearance at the company Halloween mixer. I’ll be on his arm in a sensibly scandalous costume with my arm wrapped around Jameson’s. My ex will go nuclear. We’ll all have a great night, and then we’ll go our separate ways. Sure, Jameson isn’t quite the terrible jerk his reputation makes him out to be. And yes, I may find myself enjoying our fake dates more than I ever expected. But it’s going to be fine, even if I find myself asking 'what if' when I’m supposed to be thinking 'no way.' The plan is still going to go off without a hitch. Right?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I’m in a microscopic hotel room, pacing in a circle, trying not to barf out of pure nervous panic. Three weeks ago, this idea seemed amazing. It was genius. So genius, in fact, that I didn’t tell anybody, including the boyfriend I’m surprising by flying out here.

And now I’m learning a valuable lesson. If you move fast enough, you can temporarily outrun stupidity. About an hour ago, stupid caught up with me. Hard.

Yeah, maybe I should just barf. I’d feel better if I emptied my already empty stomach.

I gnaw on a fingernail, fold my arms, unfold my arms, pinch my temples, and then blow a raspberry. Surprisingly, none of that helps. I still feel like I’m in a blind panic.

I stare out the window at the unfamiliar desert landscape outside. Arizona. Ari-freaking-zona. I spent money I don’t have on plane tickets here and spent even more money I don’t have to buy tickets to the author’s convention a few blocks from my hotel. And my boyfriend has no idea I’m coming. Why would he? He specifically asked me not to come.

Maybe I should faint instead of throwing up. At least then I’d get to enjoy a few moments of blissful unconsciousness.

I need to call someone. Two sisters, an overprotective brother, two best friends… It’s quite the list to choose from. My youngest sister isn’t old enough to handle something like this, so I cross her off my options. My brother would try to fix it for me and tell me not to move a muscle. That has a ring to it, but I don’t want to be rescued. This was my colossal screw up. I should at least be the one to unscrew myself, if that’s what I decide to do.

My other sister, Dani, is a wild card. She’s smart and practical, and she shoots straight. I know she’ll tell me exactly what she thinks.

Then there’s my friends. Gemmaline would just encourage me in whatever direction she thinks I want to go. Pure, unconditional support. Also tempting, but probably not helpful except for calming me down temporarily.

Roxie is my last option. She has wanted me to break up with my boyfriend pretty much since we started dating. Unless I want to be told I should march up to him tomorrow and spit in his face or stab him with a prison shank, I probably don’t need to call her.

I chew my nail a little more, then call Dani. Honesty it is.

Dani picks up on the second ring. “It’s pretty late for you. Did you get hooked on another one of those serial killer documentaries?” I can hear her smiling as she slows down her speech like she’s talking to a baby. “Is somebody scared again and needs their big sister?”

“It’s not that,” I snap. “Remember that time when I thought I found a stray cat and it was actually a baby bobcat?”

Dani audibly shudders. That was a long day for both of us. “Yes. I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore.”