I immediately know what this means. They have news. And after two months, there is only one type of news they can possibly give us. They found the bodies.
Henry jumps off me and goes for his pants on the floor, retrieving his phone. “Hello?”
I hold my breath as he turns away. I can see every muscle in his back, ass, and thighs tense up.
Oh no. Oh no. I jump to my feet and pull on my shorts and discarded T-shirt. I then walk around him to see his face. It’s an expression I’ve never quite seen, like he’s been kicked in the watermelons.
“You’re sure,” Henry mutters and then listens some more. “You’re fucking sure.” Henry slowly walks over to the bed and sits down. “Okay. I’ll be right over.” He ends the call and stares at the wall.
“What is it? What happened?” I ask.
“They’re alive. They’re fucking alive,” he mutters. “All of them.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Keep turning pages for details about Digging A Hole, Book #3 of the Ohellno Series, how to get FREE signed bookmarks, and the Author’s Note about this book.
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www.mimijean.net/diggingahole.html
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Hi Everyone!
Okay, so a teeny, tiny cliffy there, but two things! One, we know that Elle and Henry are now in it together no matter what happens with his father. Two, the “what happens” strongly ties into Book #3, Digging A Hole (Get it? Snort! He’s an a-hole, and she’s digging him? Or digging his grave? Both? We’ll just have to wait and see!) But be sure to sign up for my newsletters so you know what’s coming! (Plus, I give away an obscene amount of goodies, so there’s always that, too.)
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He’s the meanest boss ever.
She’s the sweet shy intern.
They’re about to wreck each other crazy.
My name is Sydney Lucas. I am smart, deathly shy, and one hundred percent determined to make my own way in the world. Which is why I jumped at the chance to intern for Mr. Nick Brooks despite his reputation. After ten failed interviews at other companies, he was the only one offering. Plus, everyone says he knows his stuff, and surely a man as stunningly handsome as him can’t be “the devil incarnate,” right? Wrong.
Oh…that man. That freakin’ man has got to go! I’ve been on the job one week, and he’s insulted my mother, wardrobe shamed me, and managed to make me cry. Twice. Underneath that stone-cold, beautiful face is the evilest human being ever.
But I’m not going to quit. Oh no. For once in my life, I’ve got to make a stand. Only, every time I open my mouth, I can’t quite seem to muster the courage. Perhaps my revenge needs to come in another form: destroying him quietly.
Because I’ve got a secret. I’m not really just an intern, and Sydney Lucas isn’t my real name.
FOR EXTRAS, BUY LINKS, and MORE, GO TO:
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OKAY! So moving on…
How to get a FREE signed OH, HENRY bookmark.
Step #1: HURRY! (Bookmarks and fridge magnets are on a 1st come basis. When I’m out, I’m out!)
Step #2: Email your shipping address to
[email protected] Step #3: If you LOVED the book and posted a REVIEW, please do mention it! I’ll include an extra goodie (generally a magnet) as a thank you.
Next is one of my favorite parts about doing these notes: Explaining what the book is all about! Think you figured it out?
Let’s see!
This time there are two underlying themes, inspired by the stuff going on in my real life.
First, my son and I were talking about bullies the other day. Being that he’s about to go into middle school, it’s not an unusual topic. Now, the schools don’t ever want to be seen as advocating fighting. I also don’t feel like that’s the way to go, considering they’re all children. But I also had to recognize and be honest with my son about one important fact: If you don’t stand up, bullies just keep coming back for more. Power is like a drug to them. Sadly, I also had to explain that the bullies don’t end once you leave school. They’re everywhere and come in all ages and genders. So learning to stand your ground, with appropriate force, is part of learning how to deal with people in the real world. Someone hits you in the face, you have a right to defend yourself. If someone is always threatening you, you have the right to do something about it. Simple, right?
Not always. Sometimes there are no easy solutions—a bully boss in a job you need, a bully teacher in a class you have to pass, a family member you love, but who is not always nice. Sometimes there’s no easy walking away or a clear path. (And dealing with conflict is not easy for everyone.) But the alternative, doing nothing, will only leave you feeling helpless, and that is not an option either.
Anyway, as you saw, Henry and Elle did not have a clear plan B when it came to dealing with Henry’s overbearing dad, but they realized if they didn’t stand up, then his father would just keep going, making Henry quit football, making Henry work for him, and pushing a wedding with Candice.
So what next? After Henry believes his father died, Henry tries to put the pain behind him. But now that good old dad is back, they are going to have to face that dragon. Only this time, they’ll face him together. There just is no other option, even if they lose, and I think that was the point. We don’t always know if we’ll win, but if we don’t fight, for damn sure we’ll lose. Gotta at least try.
The second theme of the book is about love and how sometimes loving someone just isn’t enough. I look at the divorce rate in the US and then I look at my parents, who are about to celebrate fifty years of marriage. (Congrats, guys!! Love you!!) I have to wonder what’s made them so different? I mean, it’s not like all those people who get divorced went into it without love. That’s silly. Of course they loved each other. But then, something happens and it falls apart. So for the couples who make it through all the fights, money troubles, power struggles, illnesses, teenaged kids, aging, jealousy, and whatever else life throws at us adults, I have to wonder if it really comes down to commitment and believing that this other person is maybe just a tiny bit better than you. Maybe you have to put your partner on a pedestal? (Not too high, but high enough.)
No, I don’t mean it in a self-deprecating way. I mean maybe the trick is seeing that there are these parts of your partner that are incredible and superior to your own traits, which makes you lucky to have them. Because, if you’re like me, you tend to think a little too highly of yourself sometimes and wish that everyone could be perfect like you. (So me! Ha-ha.) And then reality sets in, and I see the truth about myself. I’m a rock star at some things, really. But not everything. And it’s those little parts of my husband that are so much better than me that remind me that I’m not really “the shit,” and he’s worth committing to.
Okay, anyway, the point is that maybe you can love someone with all your heart, but it might not be enough. Maybe you really have to be willing to see your imperfections in order to see their perfections. That’s really what happened with Elle and Henry, they finally caught a real glimpse of themselves, and then they were able to see each other. Obviously, Elle really had a superwoman superiority complex because of her IQ, and it took looking in the mirror for her to realize she wasn’t all that. Then she had to come to terms with the reality of her true strengths, including when and where she could really make a difference. Henry, too, had to face the fact that he couldn’t do it all. He needed help.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my mental detour and the philosophical bullcrap that goes through my mind when I’m writing these stories!
Until we mind meld again, read long and prosper!
With Love,
Mimi
PLAYLIST
Listen to the soundtrack for this book on SPOTIFY or grab the songs from here!
PLAYLIST on SPOTIFY:
w
ww.mimijean.net/oh-henry-spotify-music-list.html
“Hey DJ” CNCO
“Filthy/Gorgeous” Scissor Sisters
“We Will Rock You” The Rockers
“Straight Outta Cold Beer” Blake Shelton
“Adventure Of A Lifetime” Coldplay
“Tonight (Best You Ever Had)” John Legend
“La Cucaracha” Los Paisanos
“Sleeping With A Friend” Neon Trees
“Higher (Feat. Maty Noyes)” Lemaitre
“Classic (feat. Powers)” The Knocks
“Wish I Knew You” The Revivalists
“MoneyGrabber” Fitz and the Tantrums
“Getaway” Saint Motel
“Genghis Khan” Miike Snow
“Wish I Knew You” The Revivalists
“Take It or Leave It” Cage The Elephant
“Move” Saint Motel
“Talk Too Much” Coin
“Happy Pills” Weathers
“High And Low” Empire of the Sun
“Ancient Mars” The Zolas
“The Judge” twenty one pilots
“How You Like Me Now (Original)” The Heavy
“Amerika” Young the Giant
“These Days” Dr. Dog
“Nice Try” I Am Arrows
“Cake By The Ocean” DNCE
“Suit And Jacket” Judah & the Lion
“Sweet Talk” Saint Motel
“Benny Goodman” Saint Motel
“You Do It Well” Saint Motel
“Spark” Fitz and the Tantrums
“Brazil” Declan McKenna
“Anna Sun” Walk The Moon
“Cielito Lindo” Ana Gabriel
“Sun” Two Door Cinema Club
“Stand By Your Man” by Tammy Wynette
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A big OH THANK YOU! to the team who continually steps up to tackle my stories: Kylie, Dalitza, Ally, and Naughty Nana. Thank you for the feedback and encouragement all these years!
And, as always, my gratitude goes out to the wonderful professionals who help turn my stories into touchdowns: Latoya, Pauline, Su, and Paul.
AND FINALLY, you guessed it…my dudes! Thank you for the coffee, sandwiches, and chocolate fuel. Book #28! Woohoo!
Thank you!
Mimi
EXCERPT OF SMART TASS
He’s the hot college quarterback all the girls want.
She’s the smart girl he loves to pick on.
And now that they’re all grown up, things are about to get geekin’ ugly…
My name is Tass. I’m smart, I’m driven, and I am determined not to let prankster Hunter Johnson continue raining on my parade. When we were little, he’d pull my hair and call me names. When we were teenagers, he’d throw food and tease me for being a flat-chested virgin.
But now that we’ve ended up at the same college, he’s out of his hot head if he thinks he can keep messing with my life. It’s like he’s fixated on me or something. Well, guess what, Mr. Amazefootball? I’m not that geeky little girl anymore and you do not screw with a smart woman.
So what’s my plan?
It’s definitely wild, and he’s about to find out…
www.mimijean.net/smartass.html
CHAPTER ONE (Smart Tass)
“Jesus, Hunter. You’re a bigger piece of shit than I thought,” I snap, standing in the middle of the library at Austin U, with the star quarterback kneeling in front of me, his beefy arms wrapped around my legs.
What is he even asking for? Because he hasn’t said and I don’t know.
“I’m not leaving until you say yes, Tass,” he mumbles with his head pressed into my kneecaps. Okay, really his mouth is wedged between my thighs—not cool!—so I just pretend we’re engaging in kneecap contact.
“Come on, Tassie. It’s just one little yes, and I’m gone.” His sky-blue eyes gaze up at me with the sincerity of a blow-up doll while the student body chuckles and snaps off pictures.
Wonderful. Let’s make a historical record of this mortifying moment.
“Get off me, Hunt! I have to get to class.”
He tightens his iron grip, biting down on a shit-eating grin. “Not until you say yeeees,” he sings.
I have no clue what he wants, but God, I loathe jocks. I hate the way they laugh at each other’s douche-bag jokes. I hate how they strut around like they’re God’s gift to the universe herself. I hate their obsessions with cheap beer, pickup trucks, and blonde girls in short skirts.
And I especially hate this guy, Hunter Johnson. Aka Hunt. Also referred to by himself and his followers as “The Hunt,” “The Man,” “Mr. Amazefootball,” and my own creation, “Dickhead.” Okay. Mine isn’t so original, but neither is the dipshit hugging my knees for no other reason than after all these years, he still hopes he’ll get a rise out of me. But I wouldn’t queef in Hunt’s general direction to save his life. Not that I’ve ever queefed. Or had sex. Or…anything. But, hey, I have my “better than you” scoreboard. Hunt – 1. Tassie – 562.
And just why is my score so high? This game has been going on for as long as I can remember, starting in preschool all the way through high school. Hunter and I were neighbors. Technically, we still are since our parents continue living next door to each other back home.
Lucky me. But imagine my delight when I learned that Hunter and I would be going to the same university.
Both on full scholarships.
Unbelievable. I worked my entire life for straight As. I made sacrifices—mostly to my social life and girlish figure since studying didn’t leave room for much else. Hunt, on the other hand, just threw around a ball while wearing tight pants and humping his way through the cheerleading squad.
Fed up with his little game, I reach down and grab a fistful of Hunter’s dark brown hair that skirts his annoyingly strong jawline. His hair is longer than he used to wear it back in high school, and it’s surprisingly soft, too. I can make nice earmuffs out of it after I scalp him.
“Ow! Hey,” he squawks, but goes right back to locking up my legs the second I release his silky hair.
“All right,” I say through clenched teeth. “What do you want, Hunt?”
“Say yes. That’s all. Please, Tass?” His callused fingers press into my bare calves underneath my floral, knee-length skirt. Strangely, his hands feel satisfyingly rough.
What? No. You are not enjoying this.
Hunter’s thumbs make tiny circles behind my knees, almost like he’s heard my thoughts and agrees with them: “Yeah, giiiiirl! You know it.”
A silent cringe tears through me.
“Dammit, Hunter,” I say, doing a wiggle-step, trying to keep my balance. I’d prefer not to fall over and show the world my Hello Kitty Friday underwear beneath my skirt. “Get off!”
“Would love to.” He laughs, wiggling his dark eyebrows. “My place or yours?”
“Har, har, asshole,” I say.
“Ouch. Such words, little Tassie.” He chuckles and his breath tickles my inner thighs. It feels oddly intimate, and I don’t like it one little bit. “Now, you really have to say yes.”
“Yes to what? Use your words, tiny man.” Tiny refers to his brain, not his body. In the size department, he’s a tall, lean, mean football machine. A complete waste of a nice male body.
“I need your help.” He makes a pouty face that quickly turns into—
“Nooo. Don’t you do it! I’m so not in the mood. Don’t you dare use the—”
“Paweeez, Tassie…” His blue eyes are super big and the tip of his pink tongue darts out the side of his mouth.
Oh God. Not the puppy face. I refrain from cracking a smile. He first used it on me when we were five to wheedle a graham cracker. Over the years, he’s used it to convince me to do things like lie to his parents—“Yes, Hunt was with me, studying”—or to tutor him with algebra when he was failing. I never understood why I helped him because the guy made my life a living hell. It’s totally the puppy face. Case in point, it stil
l gives me the uncontrollable urge to laugh. It’s just that stupid.
“Hunter, I swear you’re the biggest…” Trying not to smile, I notice a few of his football buddies doubled over, cracking their shit up behind a row of books.
My smile vanishes like a wisp of steam over morning coffee—fair trade, French roast—in case you’re wondering what I’m imagining dumping over his head at this very moment.
“You bastard,” I curse under my breath. “This is some sort of dare, and you’re still living in high school. Well, here’s a blast from the past!” I manage a small jab-kick just above his knee, which creates enough space for me to land a real kick into his rib and—ouch! My foot!—rock-hard abs.
“Tass.” He laughs, releasing me and rolling on his side. “Come on…”
There is no justice in this world. Not for women like me who reject this form of juvenile henpecking, just like I reject push-up bras, oppressive dictatorships, and football—okay, basically any sport that pays its athletes millions of dollars while people go hungry. Intelligence is the only currency that matters.
And Hunter Johnson is dumbass broke!
Okay, right about now you’re probably asking yourself if I’m one of those nerdy girls who had a crush on the quarterback back in high school and got her heart decimated every time she saw him walking down the hall, because he didn’t actually see her.
Oh hell no.
My father is a software engineer who’s created six different algorithms to track global-warming patterns, my mother is an award-winning bioengineer working on a cure for cancer—I want to be her someday—and my brother is a tech CEO and millionaire at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. Don’t even get me started on my aunts, uncles, and cousins—all doctors or scientists. With my 3.99 GPA and full scholarship to a university that is not Harvard, Yale, or Princeton, I’m the black sheep of the Summerset clan. But for better or worse, that’s my family, and I love them. Even if their standards are incredibly high. Either way, there is zero, and I mean zero interest in sports or men of sports on my part.