#CATFISHED (The Empire Series Book 1)

by Nicole Hite

  #Catfished

  Nicole Hite

  Contents

  Copyright

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  1. "What glass ceiling?"

  2. "The name's 007, and I have a license to type."

  3. "Friend request sent. Now what?"

  4. "Rebel Without a Cause makes his move."

  5. "What's Wong with this situation?"

  6. "Baited"

  7. "Lethal injection...Ariel style."

  8. "The Inquisition"

  9. "I shouldn't be taking your advice...should I?"

  10. "Excuse me while I hyperventilate."

  11. "To whom it may concern."

  Sneak Peek at #Lucky

  About the Author

  About the Author

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Nicole Hite does not own the rights to any music, or movies.

  Created with Vellum

  Editing by

  TCB EDITING SERVICES

  Cover design and art:

  Copyright © 2016 by Kathryn H. Lee

  Photography by:

  Shauna Kruse

  Cover Model:

  Matthew Hosea

  #CATFISHED© 2015 by Nicole Hite

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  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  * * *

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language, which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

  * * *

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2016 Nicole Hite

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  Created with Vellum

  To those fighting a battle of epic proportions.

  * * *

  "However bad life may seem,

  there is always something you

  can do, and succeed at. While

  there's life, there is hope.

  -Stephen Hawking

  * * *

  Fight On

  Acknowledgments

  Big thanks to TCB Editing Services for rocking out and making my edits happen in a pinch. Sometimes I don't realize how demanding and greedy I am lol. You guys are two thumbs up awesome! #RockOut

  * * *

  Shauna Kruse - You are one special lady. You have such a brilliant heart inside and out. Photographs aside, you are a spectacular human being. I am in constant awe. It's people like you in the world that make the shitty times bearable. #BeautifulSoul

  * * *

  Matthew Hosea - Every once in a while there comes along a creature that is so magical, it puts unicorns to shame (and I love fucking unicorns so that's saying a lot). Although you are going to make my covers beautiful with that wicked mug of yours, you truly are an exceptional human being. Your genuine and kind heart shine through daily. No cupcakes in this book! #MERICA

  * * *

  LOTS of hugs and kisses to my Nighthawk. I don't know what fates brought us together, but I will be forever grateful. You are an amazing woman. Sometimes I don't even think you realize it either. You're super mom, super wife and super PA all wrapped up into a bundle of joy.

  I know without a shadow of doubt that I can come to you morning, noon and night and you will be there for me. Love you! #Nighthawk&Dragon4EVA

  * * *

  These crazy bitches I call Bish #1, #2, and #3. SEPTEMBER 2016, ST.LOUIS OR BUST! Y'all know how much I love you...nuff said :) #BishesBCray

  * * *

  Hubs - To say these last couple of months has been a whirlwind would be a GIANT understatement. Words will never be enough to let you know how much I love and appreciate you. #FightOn #Warrior

  1

  "What glass ceiling?"

  "Sam get in here," Ariel shouted from the kitchen island. Ariel dug her elbow into the granite as she perched her chin in her palm. She allowed her long, brunette braid to sweep across the keyboard as she pushed her oversized glasses onto the bridge of her nose. Her petite fingers skidded across the keys as she continued to read the news feed on her online account.

  A slew of comments on one particular picture immediately grabbed her attention.

  "Yummy!" one girl stated

  "Oh, don't tease me, baby," another chimed in.

  "Can I lick that from head to toe?" added a feisty woman.

  "Seriously," Ariel complained into the computer screen with raised eyebrow. "You have got to be kidding me."

  "What? Did you say something, Ariel?" her roommate, Sam, echoed from across the apartment. She was still in her jammies, brushing her teeth, trying desperately not to get her wisps of blonde hair in the bubbles.

  "Really, Sam? Ever heard of a bra? I can see your nips from all the way over here," Ariel gave her a joking smile.

  "First off, I'm home. If I want to wear a gorilla costume singing, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I will. Besides, who gives a flying fuck?"

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ariel rolled her eyes as she focused her attention toward the screen.

  "So what did Dark and Dangerous do today? Anything good I should drool over?" Sam giggled as she removed the bubbly toothbrush from her mouth.

  Watching the suds drip down Sam's ample breasts, just barely missing her blonde hairs, Ariel sat back in her chair and looked at her screen, perplexed.

  "Let's see. Today, he posted a picture of his abs, which B.T.W., are completely photo shopped. I mean honestly, there is no way in hell he has an eight pack. Do these girls really think NOVA is this...this...," she pointed to the profile picture of an incredibly attractive gentleman.

  "...Hunk? Sex God? The Devil himself?" Sam mumbled as she spit the residual paste into the kitchen sink. "You got to admit, Ariel, he is sexy as hell. He got your attention, didn't he?"

  "That's not the point," she all but screamed, as she brushed her long brown braid off her shoulder.

  "So, what is the point?"

  "The point is he is putting out a false facade to lure these poor girls. Clearly this is not him. It's crystal as day. I mean look," Ariel pointed to a few pictures. "Today he has a tattoo on his right arm, yesterday it wasn't there. And look at that jaw line, it's completely different from this picture," she pulled out a stack of printed documents.

  "Wait - you printed his pictures?" Sam looked at her with bugged eyes.

  "Sam, let's focus here," Ariel tried to get the conversation back on track.

  "Right," Sam looked on unconvinced.

  "Just listen to this, ‘Dean, you are so sexy, how are you not take
n?’ ‘Why be tied down when I have you in my life, sweetheart?’ ‘Oh, Dean, you are too sweet,’" Ariel turned in her chair to face Sam at the sink.

  With sarcasm dripping from her plump lips, she mocked the conversation as she gave Sam

  an annoying glare.

  "Have none of these women ever heard of a Catfish before? Watch, next week's headline will read, "Women Lured in by Dashing Man Only To Be Slain for Their Stupidity."

  Sam flicked her toothbrush at Ariel sending water to splash in Ariel's direction.

  "That's the journalist in you, sweetie. You are always searching for the monster scoop. Maybe he is who he says he is. You never know these days."

  "Sam, seriously? Look, Bertha here is a body builder and three-time world heavy weight champ. She enjoys lifting heavy objects, including her men. Alas, Dean flirts with her and all these women like they're Cindy Crawford. I don't get it."

  "How did you even get involved with Casanova anyway?" Sam leaned on the counter to match Ariel's stare at the monitor.

  "His name was a topic of conversation in one of my romance novel groups. I had to investigate...obviously. All of the girls are gaga over him and I had to see what the fuss was all about."

  "But could you blame them? Look at that picture," reaching over, Sam scrolled through the photos on his profile.

  "Sweet mother, girl. You've told me stories, but damn. This guy is gorgeous with that short hair, tattoos, and those adorable dimples. I'd chat that dude up too. Who the hell cares if he's real of not!"

  "Can we stay focused here? This reeks catfish, and these women are like putty in his hands; it's sad."

  "I think you have more pressing issues then smut-stalking some guy."

  "Like what?" Ariel asked as she flicked the pen cap on her teeth, refusing to remove her eyes from the screen.

  "Oh I don't know, perhaps getting to work on time?" Sam chuckled as she made her way to her bedroom.

  "Shit, Sam! Don't leave without me! Vivienne will have my head if I'm late again."

  "So why the hell would I want to wait for you then, if you're just going to make me late?" Sam stated as she emerged from her room fully dressed.

  "Give me ten minutes and I'll be good to go," Ariel jumped up from the barstool.

  Ariel and Sam had gotten really lucky getting their apartment as college graduates. Both girls were barely twenty-one when they were hired at Empire Magazine.

  After working with their college newspaper, The Trinity Gazette, it was finally time for the big time.

  Ariel was destined to work in journalism. To say she loved her job would be a huge understatement. She was obsessed with her job. Ever since she was a kid she wanted to be a journalist. She wanted to be the inquisitive sleuth catching all the stories with her notepad in hand. As a kid, she would interview the neighbors when any activity happened around the neighborhood. Her biggest scoop was when Ms. Anderson's cat got stuck in a tree for three days. She was terrified and, naturally, Ariel was beyond thrilled to have something exciting to write about.

  When the opportunity to work at Empire Magazine arose, she all but jumped to snag the interview. Yes, some may call her overly jealous, but she liked to think of herself as astutely accurate. Her months, weeks, and days, were always planned to a tee. O.C.D? Probably. She, just like most looking to succeed, stayed organized and busy. It was shear luck that Sam got a job there as well. Sam was a people person by nature. Sure, she was a great fashion editor, but it was likely her personality that landed her the opportunity of a lifetime.

  It was nice that Ariel had a friend to accompany her on her journey. She was a shy girl; some would even call her a nerd. With her wide-framed glasses, frumpy clothes and braided hair, Ariel truly believed Sam only befriended her as a science experiment or to recruit her for Extreme Makeover. Sam was naturally beautiful, and it seemed bizarre she wanted to hang out with Ariel, however the more they hung out, the more she realized they had a lot in common. Opposites do attract, she supposed.

  Ariel and Sam met at Trinity College in Boise, Idaho while taking Biology 101. Sam was hyperventilating about dissecting a frog when Ariel stepped in to assist her. For a blonde, she was exceptionally bright. Even though Ariel didn't want to touch the dead frog, she knew the ins and outs like the back of her hand.

  In exchange for her newfound friendship, Sam helped with Ariel's social skills. She gave her a makeover, did her hair, and even set up an appointment to get contacts. It was only in the confines of their lair that Ariel would still sport her braid and glasses.

  She was surprised, and grateful for Sam's generosity, and sweet nature; its true, you can never choose a book by its cover. Ever since that first day in Bio, they had been inseparable.

  Sam knew Ariel better than she knew herself sometimes, which petrified her, to say the least.

  Post graduation, Sam and Ariel decided to move in together. Enjoying the sun in their faces and the wind in their hair, they trekked six hundred odd miles to San Francisco, CA. Why San Fran you ask? Well that's simple; two words – Empire Magazine. Ariel stalked their website for months before they landed internships in their advertising department. Even as an intern, Ariel was writing provocative pieces and sending them to the editorial gods above. Empire was nothing, if not the magazine to work for. Their stellar reputation in the fashion industry was well known around the world. Their covers were always painted with the biggest celebrities, highest fashion, and best of all, clever editorial pieces. They were the crème-de la-crème, and they were lucky enough to work for them.

  Evidently her incessant stalking paid off when she got a call from Vivienne Harper about a year ago. Before she hired her, she asked her to write a spotlight piece on "25 Ways to Make Your Partner Sing in Bed." It wasn't exactly covering the Ebola epidemic in Africa, but it was a foot in the door.

  Thanks to Sam's makeover, she had snagged the job and conveniently pimped her friend's skills; at the same time landing Sam the editor of

  Hair & Makeup, while Ariel was assigned to Sex & Relationships.

  Ariel wasn't exactly an expert on Sex & Relationships, but by-God, she was a researcher, which allowed her to fudge her way through a few pieces here and there. Ariel was no prude though. She had been with a couple men before. She wouldn't call herself a whore by any stretch of the imagination, however, she had seen her fair share of odd traits. Everything from Missionary Masons to Bondage Bandits, her checklist was fully stocked and loaded.

  After sending over her first piece to Vivienne Harper, she and Viv hit it off swimmingly. Viv loved her featured piece and the quirky diversity she brought to the table. She had to admit, she was so jazzed to land this job she didn't care that it would be managing the Sex & Relationship column.

  The day Ariel landed the job at Empire, Sam surprised her with an apartment full of balloons and cake. Granted, they were the discarded balloons no one wanted like, "Happy Christening" and "Feliz Navidad," but it was hilarious, given their relationship.

  Clearly they were celebrating Fernando's birthday, as well, by the colorful icing draping the chocolate sides.

  God love Fernando and your inability to pick up your cake. Perhaps it was a scorned lover, or family member, betrayed by your trust and confidence, but I thank whoever for their failure to retrieve your deliciously, sweet treat.

  Ariel ran around her room slightly agitated with the way Dark and Dangerous had posted a picture of his "abs". The amount of comments were unreal. Her inability to comprehend what would drive women to throw themselves at a complete stranger, floored her. For all they knew, this man could be fifty years old with a potbelly and a receding hairline.

  Nearly tripping over the pile of laundry cluttering her bedroom floor, she snatched a towel from the ground, and bolted for the bathroom. After a record shower, she ran a simple comb through her tangled hair, threw on a sundress and sandals, and grabbed her messenger bag from her desk. Almost causing a catastrophe, she caught a cup of pens before they plummeted to the ground.


  Ariel had always been a proactive employee. She liked working overtime. It gave her a sense of accomplishment knowing she had a list, and was checking things off one at a time.

  Her boss, Vivienne Harper, didn't seem to mind, but she always wanted her to get out and enjoy life. In her words, "How are you ever going to write realistic stories if you have no valid information to back it up?" she was right, but then again, her only committed relationship these days was her job. And her career always came first.

  2

  "The name's 007, and I have a license to type."

  "You know, Ariel, one of these days you're going to land a story that has nothing to do with the Karma Sutra, nipple clamps, and orgies. For someone so inexperienced, it shocks me you are in charge of the sex column," Sam said as she grabbed her brief case.

  Rushing into the kitchen, she brushed the hair off her sundress, "Who says I'm inexperienced?"

  Cocking her hip to the side and giving Ariel a raised eyebrow, "Seriously? I've seen you bring home maybe one guy since we moved into this apartment, and that was six months ago!"

  Filling up her travel mug with coffee, Ariel grabbed her messenger bag and lifted the strap over her head allowing it to rest perfectly between her breasts. "I get laid, maybe not as much as you think I should, but I get laid."

  "When was the last time you got laid?" Sam asked as she opened the front door, shooing Ariel out of the apartment.

  Looking back at Sam with a disgusted look on her cherub face, "For fuck sakes, Sam, I get laid..."