Advertising Media Volume 183
FEATURESPOTLIGHT
This Week in Advertising …
The Ad Man:Jason Reagert His New Campaign:Wedding bands—for the man who needs to get the ring on her finger… fast!
Maddox Communications has recently hired New York’s golden boy, Jason Reagert. Rumours are flying that Maddox Communications may be going head-to-head with their chief rival, Golden Gate Promotions. The last thing Maddox needs is a scandal plaguing the pursuit, but it seems self-made, suave Jason Reagert is in quite the situation. Surely by now everyone has seen the notorious photo of one Miss Lauren Presley sporting quite the prominent baby bump. Seeing as how the mommy-to-be has just accepted the marriage proposal of Mr Reagert … one can only assume she’s marrying her baby’s daddy.
Dear Reader,
Receiving an invitation to participate in a continuity series is such a thrill and honor for me! I especially enjoy the opportunity to work with other authors to build an exciting new story world—in this case, the world for KINGS OF THE BOARDROOM. In Bossman’s Baby Scandal, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the driven men and women at Maddox Communications, an ad agency in scenic San Francisco.
Ambitious ad exec Jason Reagert expects a fresh start on the West Coast, a chance to make his mark outside his wealthy family’s influence. But all too soon his ties back east tighten when he learns his ex-lover, Lauren Presley, is carrying his baby!
I hope you enjoy the glitz, glamour and high-powered dealings in KINGS OF THE BOARDROOM. I love to hear feedback from readers, so please feel free to contact me via my website, www.catherinemann.com, or write to me at PO Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.
Happy reading!
Catherine
Advertising Media Volume 184
FEATURESPOTLIGHT
This Week in Advertising …
The VP:Flynn Maddox His New Campaign:Cribs & Cradles—for the man who has it all … except the baby!
Scandal is threatening Maddox Communications yet again and this time Vice President Flynn Maddox is the target. According to sources, Mr Maddox is now living with his ex-wife—who apparently was never his “ex” at all. Rumor has it that Mrs Renee Maddox relocated from Los Angeles to the house she and Mr Maddox shared seven years ago. But what’s even more interesting is that she recently tried to gain access to her husband’s sample at a sperm bank. So … what exactly is going on between husband and “ex-wife”?
Dear Reader,
Who hasn’t spent time rehashing a conversation or event after the fact and come up with a much wittier response or better ending? Wouldn’t it be great if life had a “do over” button?
I recently heard country song lyrics that talked about how a rock and a hard place can make a diamond. I am a firm believer that everything in life—even the bad stuff—happens for a reason, and we have lessons to learn from the events. Once we’ve learned those lessons we are often stronger and better equipped to deal with the next stumbling block in our path.
Executive’s Pregnancy Ultimatum gave me the opportunity to grant Flynn and Renee Maddox a second chance at love when Renee’s longing for a baby brings her “ex” husband back into the picture. This story also afforded me the opportunity to revisit San Francisco, one of the most romantic cities in the US.
I hope you enjoy the trip as much as I did.
Happy reading,
Emilie Rose
BOSSMAN’S BABY
SCANDAL
BY
CATHERINE MANN
AND
EXECUTIVE’S
PREGNANCY
ULTIMATUM
BY
EMILIE ROSE
www.millsandboon.co.uk
BOSSMAN’S BABY
SCANDAL
BY
CATHERINE MANN
I’m truly blessed to work with an AMAZING group of writing industry professionals! Hugs and thanks to the fabulously talented Emilie Rose, Maya Banks, Michelle Celmer, Jennifer Lewis and Leanne Banks. Ladies, it’s been a delight and an honor to collaborate with you on this project. Abundant appreciation to my brilliant editor, Diana Ventimiglia, and my savvy agent, Barbara Collins Rosenberg. And my unending gratitude to the whole publishing team for bringing my books to life!
RITA ®Award winner CATHERINE MANNresides on a sunny Florida beach with her military flyboy husband and their four children. Although after nine moves in twenty years, she hasn’t given away her winter gear! With over a million books in print in fifteen countries, she has also celebrated five RITA ®Award finals, three Maggie Award of Excellence finals and a Booksellers’ Best win. A former theater school director and university teacher, she graduated with a master’s degree in theater from UNC-Greensboro and a bachelor’s degree in fine arts from the College of Charleston. Catherine enjoys hearing from readers and chatting on her message board—thanks to the wonders of the wireless internet that allow her to cyber-network with her laptop by the water! To learn more about her work, visit her website, www.CatherineMann.com, or reach her by snail mail at PO Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.
New York City, four months ago
Lauren Presley wondered how a man could be so deeply inside her and yet totally distant at the same time. But no doubt about it, the sated, half-dressed man tangled up with her on her sofa at work had emotionally left the building.
She would boot the rest of him out of her deserted office as soon as she could breathe again.
The butter-soft leather of her turquoise couch stuck to the backs of her legs through her thigh-high stockings, sweat still slicking her body from their frenetically passionate—and surprise—hookup. At least her fledgling graphic-arts business was closed for the day, the workplace empty.
Everything seemed out of sorts, disconnected like a Salvador Dali painting. She couldn’t blame Jason for regretting their impulsive act, since she was pretty much freaking out, too, over how fast her panties had landed on the floor, her dress up around her waist while she’d torn at his belt buckle and zipper. Jason Reagert was a business colleague, one half of a working alliance they may very well have wrecked. She needed to get through this awkward post-sex moment ASAP with her pride intact.
A low drone filled the quiet of the empty office. Lauren tensed. “Your pants are vibrating.”
Jason arched back and raised a dark eyebrow, his close-cropped hair mussed on top from her fingers. “Pardon?”
She clapped her hand on his warm hip—beside his BlackBerry. “Seriously. It’s buzzing.”
“Damn.” He disentangled himself, cool air brushing her bared legs. Jason swung his feet to the floor, his Testoni loafers thunking against the scarred wood as he sat and unclipped the handheld. “Helluva bad timing.”
Avoiding his eyes, she slid upright and adjusted her silky black wrap dress, putting it in place again. Her panties would have to wait. She kicked the scrap of ebony satin under the sofa. “Your pillow talk leaves something to be desired.”
“Sorry.” His zipper closing rasped, overloud in the late-night silence. “It’s my reminder alarm.”
“Alarm for what?” She stared nervously at the white brick walls, the easel in the corner, the artwork on lit screens.
“My flight to California.”
Right.
He was leaving.
Lauren stood, smoothing her dress and looking for her favorite Manolo leopard pumps that she wouldn’t be able to wear again without thinking of this stupid, impetuous night.
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