Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, and Underground Kings.
Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.
For more information on Reynolds’s latest books or to connect with her, contact her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AuthorAuroraRoseReynolds, on Twitter @Auroraroser, or via e-mail at Auroraroser@gmail.com.
Sisters in the City
My Fluke My Life romantic comedy series, starting with this month's Running into Love, is all about three sisters: Fawn, Mac and Libby. They are all from Long Island and after each of them graduated from high school they moved to New York City for college. Fawn is the middle sister she’s the nerd of the bunch, she works as a teacher and spends her free time reading. Mac is the tom boy she is a massage therapist with her own practice and she’s into sports (specifically baseball). Then there's Libby, the baby of the bunch. She is the girly girl who loves makeup and high heels, but she also has the biggest heart and is a very hard worker.
Running into Love is Fawns story she's the one who cant seem to catch a break when it comes to men and has given up on love completely after having been on one to many bad dates. Focusing on work and enjoying life she thinks she has it all until she meets Levi that’s when she realizes what she’s been missing out on -- someone to spend a lazy Sunday with, to whisper to in the dark, someone to share a future with and to build a family.
I feel like a lot of women can relate to Fawn as she searches for love, which made it the perfect book to start this series. I hope you enjoy getting to know these sisters!
Fawn Callaghan has kissed one too many toads and has finally decided that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?
Feeling Muffin press into my side, I fall to the floor and pull her down to my lap so I can cry ugly, fat tears into her fur. “It’s just going to be me and you forever,” I moan into her coat as she consoles me with a lick up my cheek. “I’m going to end up old and alone like Aunt Margret,” I wail, feeling completely sorry for myself. “One day when I’m still single at fifty, I’m going to think that some hot twenty-year-old who’s only after my money wants me because I’m so desperate for love.” I sniff, burying my face deeper into Muffin’s wiry fur, hearing her whine, then feel her press her cold nose against my neck. With a hiccup I give her one last squeeze and pull myself up off the floor.
As much as I want to sit around and feel sorry for myself, my stomach won’t let me. I know if I don’t eat I will likely pass out from hunger. Wandering over to the kitchen, I search through the cupboards for something to fill the void in my stomach, since there is no way I will be ordering pizza—the idea alone has my stomach turning. Finally, in the last cupboard, I find a can of chicken and stars soup and some crackers my mom brought me when I had the flu last year. Looking at the expiration dates on both, I know I will be testing fate if I eat them, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Dumping the soup into a bowl, I place it in the microwave, setting the timer for three minutes, then open the package of crackers. Taking a small bite out of one, I sigh in relief when it’s not as hard and stale as it should be.
Needing something to wash the dry cracker down, I open the fridge and dig all the way to the back behind the dozens of takeout food containers I’ve collected and pull out the bottle of moscato my sisters brought over a few weeks ago. I don’t normally drink alone, but tonight seems like the kind of night when someone—a loser—such as myself would drink by herself. Twisting the cork out of the top, I dump the almost full bottle into one of my giant plastic tumblers and take a huge gulp, feeling it cool my dry throat on the way down, then burn my empty stomach. Shoving another cracker into my mouth, I chew and swallow while I grab my bowl of soup from the microwave, practically burning my hands off as I put it down on the counter. With one more large gulp of wine, I find the tray my mom also brought over when I was sick, put everything on it, and carry it over to the couch. The moment I sit, Muffin hops up next to me.
“Happy birthday to me,” I mutter, picking up a handful of crackers and dumping them into my soup.
“Ruff.”
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