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Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Handyman Special Worth Fixing Book 2

Life left her in the dirt—kicked her while she was down—she’s just plain broken.

But there’s someone around—the one she least expects—he’s a handyman. His methods might seem odd, but he knows what he’s doing. He’s pretty good at mending things that are broken and he already knows she’s worth fixing—even if she doesn’t.

In the second installment of Handyman Special: Worth Fixing, follow five more women who think they’re beyond repair and their handymen that will stop at nothing—including spanking them—to put their tender hearts back together again.


"Go away!" 

"Jenna, get  down here  and open the  damn door!" I  reached  beside  me,  clasped  the  first  thing  I  touched  and  tossed  it  at  him.  He  jumped  and swore. My Snoopy alarm  clock smashed at  his  feet. 

"Drew,  I  love  you,  but  take  a  freaking  hint!"  I  slammed  my  window  shut  and  skulked back under my covers, ignoring the  heavy smell  of  sheets  badly in need of  washing. The  clatter  of  shattering  glass  made  me  groan.  It  was  inevitable,  and  I'd  been  rather  naive to  think  otherwise.  

Drew,  my  saintly  best  friend,  who  had  been  nothing  but  patient  and supportive  this  entire  time,  had  finally  lost  it.  For  a  moment,  I  grumpily  thought  about  the  fact that  I'd  have  to  call  someone  to  fix  the  door,  and  my  savings  had  dwindled  drastically  since  I'd realized  Charles  was  gone  for  good.  At  least  I  couldn't  be  fired;  working  freelance  had  its advantages. 

Drew  stormed  into  my  room,  scooped  me  out  of  my  warm  but  smelly  bed,  and  dumped me,  fully  clothed,  (yes,  pyjamas  are  still  considered  clothing  to  me)  in  the  shower.  He  turned  it on,  and I screamed a  moment  before  the  water warmed.

"Jenna,  I've  had it! It's  been six months!" I  was  sputtering,  crying  and  shouting  in  an  undignified,  sailorish  sort  of  way,  when  his words  sank  in.  Six  months?  Really?  I  had  been  living  in  this  hell  for  six  months?  And  what  was the  ex  doing?  Bonking  a  twenty-two  year  old  until  her  teeth  rattled.  Nu  uh,  I  was  having  none  of it.  Pity  party  over!  I  was  about  to  tell  Drew  just  that,  when  he  spoke  again.  Like  a  dog,  my  ears seemed  to  perk  up.  

His  voice  was  sharp  and  stern,  and  it  gave  me  that  weird,  hot  and  weak fluttery  feeling  below  my  waist.  I  couldn't  have  spoken  even  if  I'd  wanted  to;  my  blood  had  been rerouted to lower places. 

"Jenna,  you've  got  an  hour  to  pull  yourself  together.  I  am  going  to  the  hardware  store  to get  a  new  damn  door."  His  eyes  narrowed,  and  he  put  his  hands  on  his  hips.  

"If  you  aren't  up, dressed  and  doing  something  productive  by  the  time  I  get  back,  you'll  be  one  sorry  lady."  His brows  rose  at  my  questioning  look.  He  pointed  at  my  bedroom  door.  

"You  and  I  will  be  heading into  that  bedroom,  and  you'll  be  over  my  knee!  I  promise  to  set  fire  to  that  butt  of  yours  and  give you  something,  other  than  that  worthless  imbecile,  to  cry  about!"  He  cranked  off  the  faucets  and wrapped  me  in  a  towel.  Water  dripped  from  my  bangs,  into  my  eyes  and  onto  the  tip  of  my  nose. My cotton PJs  clung to me,  and I shivered involuntarily. 

"Don't  test  me  on  this,  Jenna.  I  am  in  no  mood  to  let  you  self-destruct  anymore."  He turned  and  stormed  out  of  the  house.  My  head  was  still  cocked  to  the  side,  digesting  his  words, when  I  heard  the  side  door  slam  shut  and  the  rest  of  the  glass  tinkle  to  the  floor.  What  had  just happened?  A  spasm  of  something  deep  and  needy  clenched  inside  of  me.  I  had  seen  a  new  side of  Drew  –  one  I liked very much.


Blushing Books 

Barnes & Noble

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