I accidentally grabbed the wrong drink at the coffee shop. On the upside, the hot guy it belonged to chased me down to kindly swap with me. On the down side, the reason I grabbed the wrong drink in the first place is because the hot guy had just caught me checking out his ass…sets.

In my defense, his rear view is rather magnificent.

In true, humiliating form, I word-vomited a bunch of horrible nonsense. Including an unnecessary explanation of the trauma I’d evaded thanks to his chasing me down. Nothing could ruin my lactose-intolerant day faster than my one true nemesis: dairy.

I did not expect him to ask me out on a date after that.

I also didn’t expect the date to go well since my tendency to truth-vomit is high, and not everyone finds that quality endearing.

But apparently he does. Because he asks me out again.
And again.

Sidney Butterson (yes, it’s a weird last name) ticks all my boxes.
He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s employed and he’s ridiculously hot.
There’s one catch.

We’re both single parents. With teens.

And if our kids don’t like each other?
Well, we’re doomed.

Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.

Excerpt: Where It Begins

“Vi, if we don’t leave in five minutes you’ll have to walk to school!” I call down the narrow hallway.

Violet, my teen daughter, steps out of the bathroom with red eyes, shoulders slumped with defeat.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I can’t get my right contact lens in to save my life.” She looks down at the finger crooked in a come-hither motion and squints. “Shitballs, I think I might have dropped it.” She flails her free hand in the air. “Great! Just great! Like I’m ever going to find it now.”

As a single mom of a teenage girl, I know that one tiny mishap has the potential to ruin an entire day. “Why don’t you just wear your glasses? They make your eyes pop.”

Violet sigh-groans. “Because I have a Mathletes competition this afternoon, and my plan is to not wear my glasses and also to open the top two buttons on my shirt.” She motions to her chest. “So I can throw the other team off with a boob distraction. The combination temporarily fools them into believing I’m unable to math. Also, John Kirkwood always calls me four eyes when I wear my glasses and he’s in two of my classes, so I would prefer to avoid the irritation today.”

“If he’s teasing you, it means he likes you,” I point out.

“If we were in middle school, that might ring true, but John is a jerk and a jock. He’s a jork. And the only thing he likes about me are these.” She pats her right boob.

Violet looks very much like me and not her dad. Which is good because her dad was a one-night stand that turned into the most beautiful surprise I didn’t know I needed in my life. Raising Violet on my own hasn’t always been easy, but my parents are supportive and I’m lucky to have a stable, well-paying job.

“He’s just jealous that you’re a smart, independent young woman who’s going places.”

“It’s more likely he’s just a jork who makes fun of people because he has a finger penis.”

“A finger penis?”

“Yeah.” She holds up her index finger. “A penis that’s more like a finger. That’s the rumor, anyway.”

“Men are fragile creatures with easily bruised egos,” I muse as I inspect Violet’s crooked finger. “Your contact lens is still on your finger. Want me to help you put it in?”

She sighs, but nods. “Can you? I wish I could be successful at putting them in over fifty percent of the time. If I didn’t have this Mathlete competition and it wasn’t our first time against this team, I would wear the glasses. But the last time we played a new team, I wore contacts and hinted at some cleavage, and two of their team members broke out in hives and another had to breathe into a paper bag.”

“Is it fair to use your boobs as a distraction tactic?” I motion her back into the bathroom.

Violet sits on the closed toilet and tips her head back. “Is it fair that girls represent less than ten percent of the Mathletes in our county? Also, I shouldn’t have to wear shapeless, burlap-sack style clothes because I’m gifted in the chest department.”

I clean her contact lens, tell her to look at the ceiling and pop it in. She blinks a few times and gives me the thumbs up. I’d like to be the mom who says don’t use your lady assets for evil, but honestly, she has a point.

Violet has the same math brain I do, and as an accountant working in a firm dominated by men, I can honestly say having boobs is as much of an asset as it is an ass ache.

Violet hugs and thanks me, then rushes to her room to grab her backpack while I return to the kitchen and pour coffee into my travel mug. I pluck my purse from the counter and meet Violet at the front door.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there this afternoon,” I say as I climb into the SUV.

Violet buckles herself in and tucks her wavy hair behind her ear. “It’s not a big deal and listening to people solve math equations isn’t exactly riveting for most people.”

“Maybe not for everyone, but you know I’d be there if I could.”