Meet the Gods of the Fifth Floor. They work hard. They play hard. They f#ck harder.
Think Madmen meets Suits.
They have history. They have a connection. They have unfinished business.
Money. Power. And as many women as I can shake my d*ck at.
Apparently I’m living the American dream.
In reality, I’m trapped in my worst nightmare.
And I can’t seem to wake up.
The ghosts of my past haunt my future.
The money. The hook-ups. The ad agency. The friends.
I’d give it all up in a heartbeat, for the one thing I want, but don’t have.
I’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get where I am.
I should be proud of my achievements.
Instead, my success is marred by guilt.
It weighs heavy on my mind day and night.
My future is apparently bright.
Yet I can’t seem to shake the ghosts of my past.
Each day I remind myself what I have, and try to forget what I’ve lost.
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I couldn’t tell if the shit between us, the extremely weighty baggage, was piling higher or dissolving, but either way, I felt a distinct shift take place in that moment. Looking into Melissa’s eyes I was sure she felt it too. Life is made up of moments. Some meaningful, some not. Some pivotal, some inconsequential. Some memorable, some forgettable. Some joyful, some regrettable. I took a facsimile of this one in my mind. I knew I’d be referring back to it often. It was meaningful, pivotal, memorable and joyful. It was a new beginning after an old end.
I was the first to break the spell, though not with words. With the hand that had been circling Mel’s palm, I gently raised her chin, still staring directly into her eyes, before looking down slightly at the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as it became more erratic. Her gaze didn’t waver, and as I raised my eyes again to meet hers, they were there waiting for me. I wanted to smile, to do something to acknowledge the moment, but my features wouldn’t play ball. All I could do was stare, naked desire ablaze in my eyes.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead to hers, my breathing now mirroring hers in rapid stuttering jolts, each one tearing through my lungs like I’d run a marathon. I waited for her to say or do something. To encourage me or warn me off. She kept deadly still. Again the onus was on me, to make a move. I hesitated again, knowing we were headed for the point of no return, if we hadn’t already passed it. I knew that if we crossed this line, there was no going back. I waited a beat more, buying myself time to back out. To think reasonably and rationally about what I was doing, and act accordingly.
Screw that. The moment was there and then gone, and I knew that forward was the only direction we’d be moving, even if it felt far riskier than going backwards. I tilted my head slightly, angling my lips towards hers before lightly grazing hers with mine. Christ. I knew there and then that I should stop, that this wasn’t going to end well. I mean, who was I kidding, it had already ended badly for us in the past, why would this time be any different?
MV ELLIS knows what it’s like to fall head over heels in love with a badass musician. She followed her heart halfway around the world to be with one. She moved from London to Sydney after a steamy holiday romance with a sexy bass player in sultry Brazil.
Twelve years, two children and a dog later, and she’s still smitten. All this with a guy she sat next to on a bus for 36 hours! She has toured internationally as a “WAG,” and her experiences inspire her writing.
Ellis’s love of romance began when she was 11 years old, after a summer spent secretly reading her auntie’s books. She’s been a sucker for an alpha hero and strong heroine ever since.
An avid reader, Ellis always knew she’d write a book of her own one day. She was right about that. Following a career spanning advertising, marketing, and social media, she finally wrote her debut novel, Catching London in 2017.