Change Of Plans (New Adult BBW Romance)
Read Change Of Plans (New Adult BBW Romance) Online
Authors: Adriana Hunter
Change Of
Plans
A BBW New Adult Romance
By Adriana Hunter
Copyright © 2015, Adriana Hunter
All Rights Reserved.
Published by Tangled Press
http://www.AdrianaHunter.com
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This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s
imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including
events, areas, locations and situations is entirely coincidental.
Table
of Contents
As Callie stepped off the bus and onto
the sidewalk of Madison Avenue, she realized that for the first time in over
seven years, she was dreading going to work.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at
the steel and glass skyscraper that stretched into the air like a javelin,
piercing the bright blue sky that was only faintly dotted with clouds. A chilly
winter breeze tugged at her hair, nipping at her nose while it teased her
nostrils with the scent of kebabs wafting from a nearby food cart. The smells
and sounds of people swirled around her, and she felt like she was standing in
a storm of fragrance and body odor and chatter and electronic beeps and
whistles.
Such was daily life in the Big Apple, and
normally she would be charging straight through the throng, heading for the
double doors of 41 Madison, skyrocketing up to her office on the 36th floor.
She would sit at her desk, read through the emails and query letters and
manuscripts that had already been cherry picked by her assistant, and make her
clients and publishers happy by striking some amazing publishing deals. Those
deals were what she lived for, what got her to spring out of bed every morning
and hit the pavement with a bounce in her stiletto-clad step.
But this morning, as she pushed through
the double doors of her building and headed for the elevator, the click of her
stilettos against the white tile floor were dull, and her shoulders slumped as
she boarded the elevator with a sigh. The sight of the Hudson River winding in
the distance, clearly visible through the panes of the glass elevator, did
absolutely nothing to distract her from the fact that for the past through
weeks, she hadn’t found a single gem worthy of an offer in the slush pile that
was on her desk.
Sure, she had some good deals on the
table, and there were a couple of authors she was working through revisions
with in preparation for the submission stage, but it had been some time since
she’d come across a story she’d fallen in love with, and it was really dragging
her down. Her thirst for spicy romances was what drove her, and what made her
the best romance and erotica agent Bright Star Media Group had ever hired. She
had a knack for finding the best and the brightest jewels, and always beat out
the other agents in the amount of deals she struck with publishers every year.
Damn right you do
, a voice in her head said as
the elevator dinged, signaling her floor. And there’s no reason to let this
minor slump get you down in the dumps.
That’s right
, she realized, and she squared her
shoulders as she stepped off the elevator and onto the 36th floor. Rather than
a hallway, she was greeted by an open floor plan that was dominated by
cubicles. In every one of those cubicles an agent or assistant sat at a desk,
reviewing query letters, marking up manuscripts and responding to emails. The
air buzzed with activity as copies were made, contracts were printed, and
agents chattered busily on the phone with authors, editors and marketing directors.
It was another busy day at Bright Star
Media Group. And she’d be damned if she was going to do anything less than
embrace the frenzied energy wholeheartedly and kick some serious literary butt.
Head held high, she made her way over to
her office, stopping briefly to nod or greet fellow coworkers, and to grab a
cup of coffee from the company kitchen. As one of the top agents, she was lucky
enough to have her own office, a spacious room with glass walls that offered an
amazing view of Madison Square Park. Settling herself in her cushy tan leather
chair behind her white oak computer desk, she booted up her computer and
prepared herself to slog through the daily grind that was her email inbox.
Not the daily grind
, she reminded herself firmly.
A treasure trove of opportunities. The next bestselling romance could be
lurking somewhere in these cyber-depths!
“Good morning, Callie!” Lucinda Brown,
her assistant, breezed in, carrying a brown paper bag that Callie knew from
experience contained an egg and cheese croissant and a fruit bowl – her
usual breakfast. “Was hoping to have this hear waiting for you, but looks
like you got here first!” She set the paper bag down on Callie’s desk with a
smile, showing off her dimples. Her bright red hair and sparkling green eyes
were the polar opposite of Callie’s chestnut curls and dark blue irises, but Callie
didn’t resent Lucinda for her fresh-faced beauty; the young woman had a way of
lifting Callie’s spirits no matter what was going on.
“Thank you.” Callie smiled back as she
dug the croissant out of the bag. She took a bite, letting the combination of
cheesy egg and buttery pastry permeate her taste buds, and closed her eyes in
bliss. “Mmm. You’re a godsend.”
Lucinda laughed. “You’re too easy,” she
teased, and then gestured toward the computer screen. “Just wait until you
check out some of the query letters I’ve filtered out for you. I have a feeling
you’re going to find something pretty juicy to sink your teeth into today!”
“Oh really?” Callie’s eyes lit up as she
swiveled around to face her computer, her sandwich already forgotten on her
desk. Nine times out of ten, if Lucinda said something was juicy, it usually
was. She was going to make a fine literary agent someday. “Which one is it?”
“I’m not telling.” Lucinda winked, then
turned and sauntered out of the room. “If you want to know, you’re just going
to have to find it yourself!” she called over her shoulder.
“Brat,” Callie muttered with a grin.
Rolling up the sleeves of her white silk blouse, she delved into her emails,
determined to find this amazing query letter before lunch.
Chapter
Two
“Do you like that?” Logan asked,
his husky voice rough as he whispered in her ear. He gave her earlobe a tug
with his teeth as he spanked her again, the crack of his palm reverberating
throughout the bedroom.
“Yes!” Amanda cried, her legs trembling
so hard she thought her knees might collapse. She didn’t dare let them though,
and instead stayed right where she was, bent over the bed with her elbows
resting on the edge of the mattress, her feet planted firmly on the floor, legs
spread apart as she offered her bare ass up to her lover. “More!”
His palm came down on her left cheek
again, and then her right, picking up the pace with quick, sharp slaps as he
alternated between her cheeks. Amanda gasped as shocks of pleasure/pain
traveled through her body, and she felt a trickle of moisture slide down her
inner thigh. She was so wet, so ready…
“Your ass is as red as a cherry,” he
growled, sliding his hand against her stinging flesh. “And just as ripe.” He
slipped a finger inside her pussy, and she groaned, pressing her ass more
firmly against him. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart.”
“Yes.” She let out a shuddering moan as
he rubbed his bare cock between her ass cheeks, sliding the silken shaft
against her wet folds. “Please.”
“Please what? He pressed his palm down
between her shoulder blades, forcing her to lie flat against the mattress so
her ass would rise higher into the air. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Please,” she gasped. “Fuck me. Hard.”
He gripped her hips, his fingers digging
into her soft flesh as the firelight danced across their bodies. “Your wish is
my command.”
END OF SAMPLE
Callie jerked back, a gasp of her own
escaping her lips.
End of sample? So soon?
There was no possible way.
She had to read more! Checking her watch, she cursed at the realization that it
was already ten minutes past lunchtime. That was cutting it pretty close if she
hoped to get a full manuscript back in time before the day was over, but she
pulled up the author’s email in her Outlook and hurriedly typed out an email to
him anyway.
Dear B. Strong,
Thank you very much for your query
letter. I read the partial you sent me and am very pleased with what I’ve found
so far. I would like to request your full MS for review, with a one-month
exclusive so that I can decide whether or not I am the best person to offer you
representation. Please send it over at your earliest convenience.
Best,
Callie Richardson
Literary Agent
Bright Star Media Group
She hit ‘send’, then let out a slow
breath and leaned back in her chair. It was doubtful she would get the full
manuscript by end of today; writers often hesitated when agents asked for an
exclusive as it prohibited them from sending the manuscript to other agents until
the agent either sent them a rejection letter or the time period had expired.
B. Strong would likely want some time to think before he responded, and it was
entirely possible another agent had already asked for an exclusive. But she
wasn’t too worried about being beaten out by another agent; she was one of the
best, and she would be very surprised if this author chose another agent over
her.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that
she’d missed lunch, and she groaned, grabbing her purse as she hurried out of
her office. She was going to have to run across the street for some Chinese
takeout, she thought as she made a mad dash for the elevator, instead of going
to Whole Foods like she usually did, or she was going to be late for her
meeting with Random House. She had back-to-back meetings all afternoon so there
was no way she was going to be able to squeeze in lunch later.
Oh well
, she thought as she hopped into the
elevator. At least she’d be able to distract herself with work until she got an
answer back on that manuscript.
* *
*
“That sounds perfect,” Callie said,
throwing a million-watt smile at the editor sitting across the table. She was
sitting in the conference room along with Rachel Adams, one of her
up-and-coming romance authors, and they’d just finished negotiating a
million-dollar deal with St. Martin’s Press for her series of western romances
which had done amazingly well with the small publisher they’d signed a contract
with over a year ago. “Unless you have any objections, Rachel?”
“Of course not!” The forty-year-old woman
shook her head, her short blonde curls bouncing against her rounded cheeks. She
pushed her silver-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, her grey eyes
sparkling with excitement, and then gave an embarrassed cough at her outburst.
“I believe everything is in order,” she finished conservatively.
“Excellent.” The editor smiled, pushing
the contract toward them. “Let’s sign.”
They wrapped up the deal with a few
signatures and handshakes, and soon Callie was exiting the conference room with
a bounce in her step and a sparkle in her own eye. “You did great in there,”
she told Rachel, squeezing the woman’s shoulder as she ushered her out of the
room. “You’re going to be a very rich woman soon.”
“Oh I know!” Rachel clapped her hands
excitedly as Callie escorted her to the elevator. When they reached the
elevator doors, she whirled around and threw her arms around Callie. “Thank you
so much for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Smiling, Callie returned the hug with a
quick squeeze, then stepped back. “You’re very welcome. Now off with you! I’m
sure your husband is waiting anxiously to take you out to that celebratory
dinner.”
As the elevator doors slid shut in front
of a beaming Rachel, some of Callie’s enthusiasm faded. Sighing wistfully, she
went back to her office to collect her own things, then left the office for the
day. She had plenty of cause to celebrate herself; that million dollar deal
meant a nice chunk of cash in her own wallet, and was the third one of that sum
she’d made so far this year. But though she could call up any number of her
girlfriends to go out and celebrate, not to mention Lucinda, it wasn’t really
what she wanted. She wanted to run into a man’s waiting arms, to be lifted in
the air and spun around and kissed senseless like the heroes did to their
heroines in those old black-and-white movies her mother used to watch. She
wanted to be whisked away to a fancy restaurant and a fancier boudoir, to be
made passionate love to, to be told how proud she made someone, and how
wonderful she was.
In other words, she wanted to be loved.
Shaking her head, she tucked her red
scarf a little more snuggly beneath the collar of her winter coat, and ducked
her head against the chilly January breeze as she made for the subway. After
the last string of bad dates she had, she wasn’t anywhere near ready to jump
back on the dating horse again. If it weren’t for the fact that she was a
literary agent who was passionate about romance, she would have given up on
finding love long ago, but she knew it was out there.
After all, she’d once experienced it
herself; so fierce and pure and bright, that she knew it had to be real. She
had to find it again, someday. But just not today. Today she would go home,
brew herself some ginger tea and biscuits, and snuggle up on her couch with a
blanket and one of her favorite romances. The thought warmed her as she boarded
the subway, and kept a small smile lingering on her lips during the ride home.
Just as she emerged from the underground
tunnels two blocks from her apartment, her phone chimed, alerting her to an
important email. Looking down at the screen, her heart jumped as she looked at
the name of the sender, B. Strong. The subject line read, Full MS, as
requested.
Dear Ms. Richardson,
Thank you very much for responding so
promptly to my query letter. I am delighted that you enjoyed the partial I sent
you. I have done some extensive research and have concluded that you are the
best literary agent to get this book published, so you may have an exclusive
for as long as you need to make your decision, as I only have eyes for you.
Please find the full manuscript attached. I sincerely hope it exceeds your
expectations, and trust that at the very least you’ll find it stimulating.
Sincerely yours,
B. Strong.
Stimulating? Well that was one way of
putting it. Her panties were damp again just from reading this email, which
sounded a hell of a lot more like a love letter than a manuscript submission.
There was no doubt in her mind at this point that the writer was a man, which
made the story all the more intriguing to her as she had so few submissions
from male writers, and none that she’d ever entertained representing before.
But this man’s writing was dark, passionate and utterly erotic, and some of
that clearly bled into the email he’d written. Likely it was just a tactic to
keep her hooked and get her to delve back into his MS… and damned if it wasn’t
working.
Clutching her phone in her hand, she
hurried up the two blocks to her apartment. She knew what she was going to be
reading tonight, and it sure as hell wasn’t the copy of Taken by the Sheikh
that was sitting by her bedside table.
