Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgment
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Reeling in Love
ISBN # 978-1-78651-144-7
©Copyright Gloria Herrmann 2017
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2017
Edited by Jamie D. Rose
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2017 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.
Single in Seattle
REELING IN LOVE
Gloria Herrmann
Book one in the Single in Seattle series
Finding the perfect cup of coffee in Seattle is easy. Finding a guy, not so much—unless that guy finds you…in the most unexpected way.
Snap. Click. Snap. Molly steers clear of anything that doesn’t have her behind the lens of her trusty camera. That is her passion, her love and her life. Being an award-winning photographer who creates countless book covers for authors all over the world has its perks—half-naked men, for starters. Always looking but never touching—mixing business with pleasure is a big no-no in her line of work. Molly never could picture herself having a happily ever after like the romance novels where her cover shots are featured.
There are plenty of fish in the sea, but what happens when you get clobbered by one—literally? Molly finds herself being the catch of the day in Seattle’s Pike Place Fish Market.
After meeting Owen, a sexy fisherman with stormy-gray eyes, everything changes. Not ready to take the plunge and dive into this romance, Molly finds herself barely keeping above water as she swims in a sea of new emotions and wild love. She isn’t so sure she is cut out for this relationship, but Owen sets out to prove that fate has him Reeling in Love.
Will Owen and Molly sail off into the sunset or will Molly be the one that got away, only to stay…Single in Seattle?
Dedication
Friends are the family we get to choose for ourselves.
I want to thank Wendy Porter for being my sister from another mister—for sticking with me when others couldn’t. This woman truly gets me and has helped to keep me sane through every book I have written since we became besties. She understands why I wanted to write this story and why it was so important for me to showcase the good, the bad, and the not so pretty sides of friendship. I know that, no matter what, she will always be right there with me, probably laughing at me but also taking part in my shenanigans. I love ya, Wendy, my sexy and crazy Scottish friend for life.
I have had many friends cross my path and appreciate every experience that came with those friendships. They all shaped my concept for this story in some way or another.
I need to thank my mom, Connie Terpening, for being my best friend and knowing and keeping all the secrets of my heart. She taught me many things, like how to be trustworthy, kind and how to be a good friend. My mom also showed me how to love hard, to fight and to survive this crazy thing called life. Sometimes thank you is just not enough for lessons like that. I love you, Mom.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
The New York Times: The New York Times Company
USA Today: Gannett Satellite Information Network LLC
Louis Vuitton: Louis Vuitton Malletier Corporation
Betty Crocker: General Mills Marketing Inc.
Seattle Seahawks: Football Northwest LLC
Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company Corporation
Weekend at Bernie’s: 20th Century Fox
Hallmark: Hallmark Licensing LLC
Sea-Tac Airport: Port of Seattle
Twilight: Summit Entertainment
Chanel: Chanel, Inc.
Grecian Corner: Grecian Corner Seattle
Diet Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Mr. Clean: The Proctor and Gamble Company Corporation
Home Sweet Home: Sir Henry Bishop and John Howard Payne
Seattle Mariners: The Baseball Club of Seattle LLLP
Tarzan: Edgar Rice Burroughs Inc.
Jungle Love: Lonnie Turner and Greg Douglass
Seattle Supersonics: The Professional Basketball Club LLC
Oompa Loompa: Warner Brothers Entertainment Inc.
Chapter One
“I think we got it,” Molly said confidently to the almost naked man standing in the corner, wearing nothing but a stark white towel draped across his tan waist.
“You sure?”
Molly nodded as she scrutinized her work. “Yeah, the lighting was brilliant. I don’t think we could have done any better.”
“If you say so. You’re the expert with that thing.” The model pointed at the large camera Molly cradled in her hands, the screen displaying the digital shots from the day of working with him.
Molly loved her job as a professional photographer. Her friends were insanely jealous. What woman wouldn’t be? She spent her days in her studio behind the lens of her trusty camera, capturing sexy images of some of the most gorgeous men from all over the world. Either she was paid to travel to them or they flew to Seattle to have her work her magic. Authors in the romance industry adored her photos. Her attention to detail had won her awards over the years, but what she loved the most was bringing the characters from books alive. Sure, it didn’t hurt to look at well-defined muscles and sculpted abs that begged to be touched and to know what was hidden beneath the scrap of cloth that usually covered these men, but that wasn’t how the business worked. Her friends would argue it was just because Molly didn’t throw herself at these scantily clad men that she was missing out on these valuable opportunities.
If they only knew how nervous most of these men were, their fragile egos stripped down for her. It took Molly the first half of the shoot to calm them, easing them out of their shells, getting them just to loosen up enough for the right shot. It was more like babysitting rather than staring at a buffet, despit
e what her best friends thought. Not all the models lacked self-confidence, however. There were some who would stroll in, look directly into the camera and own it. But, for the most part, a lot of the guys were unsure and needed coaxing. Molly often felt more like a counselor than the world-famous photographer that she was.
Today, the Seattle sun was shielded behind soft, white clouds, filtering its rays into her studio that overlooked the Puget Sound. Her tall, glass windows provided the most stunning views of the shimmering water and the bustling city. Molly had worked hard for this view. It hadn’t come easy or cheap—or without her busting her ass to make her name known in the photography industry. She had the scars—mostly emotional, but scars, nonetheless—to prove the struggles she’d endured, climbing to the top. Now she was one of the most sought-after photographers. Models from all over the globe wanted her to shoot them. New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors and publishers almost begged for her to shoot their covers. They wanted the best and…well, Molly was. Her skills proved that she had something special and everyone knew it.
Not bothering to sit down at her desk—bending over, instead—to focus on the images she was uploading to her laptop to edit, she almost forgot to say goodbye to the model she had just worked with. It wasn’t until he was standing close to her, now fully dressed, that she realized he was still in her studio. Having him near her like that shifted the atmosphere in the room. His dominating presence was invading her space, creating nervous waves in her stomach. She inhaled his expensive aftershave, looked up from her screen and smiled.
Molly managed to say, “Great shoot today. Thanks again.”
Remember to breathe, Molly.
“Yeah, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” The man paused, running his fingers along his day-old beard, the perfect blend of refined and unkempt sexy. His voice was silky and oozed well-practiced enticement. Molly watched him stand still, contemplating his next move. She was tempted to grab her camera and snap another shot. The light was hitting him just right and his pose was thoughtful and natural. This man was gorgeous.
He turned his mesmerizing gaze toward her and asked, “Do you want to grab a drink?”
Molly swallowed. It wasn’t the first time she had been asked out by a model after a shoot. Sometimes it was the result of having bonded over their frail vulnerabilities. Sometimes they figured she was as good a lay as any while they were in town—another stamp in their romantic passport, so to speak. Molly wasn’t so sure about this one. He wasn’t overly emotional or guarded about his body, nor did he seem to really desire her. So, what is he after? She watched him scan the large studio. There was her answer. This type of square footage didn’t come cheap and he knew that.
“You know, maybe another time. I’m really excited to get this edited.” Molly pointed at her sleek silver laptop, delivering a fake smile in hopes it would put him off.
He nodded and thanked her again as he saw himself out. The nerve. Molly rolled her eyes and released the air she had been holding in her lungs. While she was in mid sigh, her cell phone chirped.
“Hello,” she answered, a little more gruffly than she’d intended.
“Wow, so what’s with the ‘tude, lady? Bad day?”
It was one of her best friends, Tiffany.
“Just got done working with a model.”
“Well, then why do you sound all cranky? Was he awful? So good-looking that you couldn’t handle it?” Tiffany teased, causing Molly to laugh and her mood to lighten.
“You know the type. He wanted to go out for drinks—”
Tiffany cut her off quickly. “And you said, yes, right? Because if you didn’t, you honestly need to have your head examined.”
“I’d have to say he was more interested in my real estate than me.” Molly frowned.
“Like real estate, as in the prime location between your legs? You know, it’s all about location, location, location, baby.”
“I wish.” Molly huffed in frustration. “No, more like the prime location of my studio.”
“That sucks.”
“Tell me about it. He was gorgeous and he smelled divine. He was totally your type—tall, dark and devilishly handsome.”
She heard Tiffany’s disappointment through the phone. “Really? Oh, I just don’t know how you do it, Molly. I have to give it to you. I would simply come undone working with those gorgeous men and not taking advantage of them every chance I got.”
Tiffany always acted like she was some aggressive sex kitten, but they knew the truth. She was actually quite timid, which was a huge reason why she was single. All three of them were single and not dating anyone special. It didn’t usually work that they were unattached all at the same time, but they were now. Their other best friend, Mackenzie, was the mother hen of the group. Well, more like the bossy one—completely overbearing, but with an absolute heart of gold. She, too, teased Molly about her line of work, but Mackenzie loved being a teacher, as it helped fill her maternal void. They had biological clocks that had gone haywire over the last couple of years, but everyone had warned them as they entered the dirty thirties that baby fever would hit soon after, and it had for Tiffany and Mackenzie. Every time they passed a stroller, neither could resist the temptation of peering in to catch a glimpse of some infant swaddled in fuzzy pink or blue blankets. Molly? She had her moments. They were brief and passed quickly when she heard the wail of a newborn or the shrill sound of a tantrum from a toddler. That didn’t tempt her to want to rent out her womb for nine months.
She looked at her spotless, chic studio. Her smile went deep into her soul, masking the want for a baby. Her space sparkled and gleamed with the afternoon Seattle sunlight, illuminating sleek lines and utterly contemporary taste.
If she were being completely honest with herself, yes, she did indeed want a child, eventually. But Molly also realized she was missing a very important part of the equation—a man. She didn’t want just a sperm donor, though she and her friends had discussed that over far too much wine and Chinese food one night, considering it as a last resort. That had left them laughing for hours. No, Molly wanted the real deal. They all did. They wanted a man—a sexy, successful and simply wonderful man. Is that really asking for too much?
Being single, especially in Seattle, came with its challenges. Molly thought the enormous Emerald City should be plentiful with eligible bachelors, but Molly assumed that, as with any place, being single was a mixture of bad luck and an overly detailed list of the personality traits she wanted in a boyfriend. As time passed, her list had grown a lot shorter. She’d crossed off quite a few of her must-haves and was looking to review her available options. Now she figured it was mainly the bad luck that was keeping her single. Molly had been unattached the longest out of her friends, who were more like her sisters. Tiffany had been on a dating spree recently, but Mackenzie and Molly had known that none of the guys were Mr. Right for their friend. Mackenzie also had a pretty extensive list of requirements for her ideal mate, and she was even more stubborn than Molly when it came to sacrificing the qualities she was willing to live with, so she dated very little.
“Well, since you didn’t want drinks with that sexy model, how about meeting up with us?” Tiffany asked.
Molly smiled. Yes, a drink with her best pals she could do. “That sounds lovely, actually.” She could use some cheering up. The best cure for her bruised ego was some quality time with her besties.
“Great. I’ll pick up Mac and we’ll swing by the studio and grab ya. Sound good?”
“Perfect. I have some edits I want to go through, so just buzz when you guys get here.”
Molly said goodbye and hung up. She stared at the monitor in front of her, the images of the model in various poses looking back her.
* * * *
Lost in her work tweaking the images with an array of filters, Molly was so engrossed that she almost didn’t hear the loud buzzing that echoed off the large studio walls. She got up quickly from her desk and jogged to the massive do
uble doors to let her friends in.
“Jeesh, what were you doing? I have been ringing that dang buzzer for, like, forever,” Tiffany complained as she slipped past Molly into the studio. Mackenzie frowned and hugged Molly.
“We’ve only been standing outside the door for a minute,” Mackenzie assured her.
Tiffany walked over to one of the large windows facing the Puget Sound. The sun was setting, casting a tangerine hue over the haze of the city. “God, do you ever get tired of this magnificent view?”
Molly shook her head as she joined her, staring out at the glittery lights in the surrounding buildings that seemed to stretch up toward the sky. “Nope.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Tiffany laughed as she faced Molly. Her dark hair was loose on her thin shoulders. Tiffany’s large eyes were a soulful brown and she had the best cheekbones. Tiffany was gorgeous in a unique and completely unexpected way. Molly’s brain acted as a camera, capturing shots of her friend’s delicate features as the sunset cast a shadowy light on her face. Tiffany sensed what Molly was doing and threw her a pouty look.
Mackenzie stood next them. The willowy blonde towered over Molly, making her feel short and stubby. Mackenzie had the figure of a teenager, slim and athletic. Her sun-kissed hair was cut in a sleek bob, framing the sharp angles of her face. She was another beautiful woman. Molly couldn’t help but snap mental pictures of Mackenzie, too. She searched Molly curiously with soft mocha eyes. They all had brown eyes in varied shades of the common color, but resembling their different tastes in coffee. Tiffany had the espresso, dark and bold. Mackenzie was more of an iced mocha with an extra shot. Molly’s resembled the instant crap coffee variety that no one really liked. Molly hated her eyes. They were plain. Her friends had tried to convince her otherwise, but they both had spectacular depth and richness in theirs. Molly thought hers looked like a muddy puddle after a typical downpour in Seattle—watery, with a sad, muted tone. Nothing special.
Reeling in Love Page 1
