Pippa Jay: I've Trent Lancaster and Carrie Hanson from Worst Week Ever. So here's my question. If you were a Sci Fi character, who would you be?
Trent: Captain Kirk from Star Trek. The early years before he started putting on weight.
Pippa Jay: Not terribly unique. So tell me why?
Trent: Because people don't challenge his every command. Also he doesn't have slacker workers and if he did, he could just toss them out into deep space so they can go on to where no man has ever gone before-- by themselves.
Carrie: Or maybe he could just leave them on a planet like Ceti Alpha V.
Trent: I'm not sending them on a vacation.
Carrie: No it's a barely habitable planet Kirk marooned Khan upon.
Trent: Or I could just shoot them with my laser gun.
Trent: Phaser/Laser who cares? As long as they go away.
Pippa Jay: And you, Carrie. Hopefully, you have a better answer?
Carrie: Probably not. To be honest all I do is work, commute, and sleep. But I did see a movie once a really long time ago I liked. Does the Lord of Ring count as Sci Fi?
Pippa Jay: No that's fantasy.
Carrie: Then I'm in trouble.
Trent: I found you one. She's beautiful, intellectual, brave and gets to marry the handsomest man in the universe. Her name is Princess Leia.
Pippa Jay: Seriously? First Star Trek and now Star Wars?
Carrie: I can relate really well to a character in a SCI FI Romance I read.
Pippa Jay: Perfect, what is it?
Carrie: It's called Phoenix Rises from the SkyRyders Series.
Pippa Jay: Hold on, never heard of it. Neither has Amazon.
Carrie: That's because it hasn't been published. However, Liza O'Connor does have it with a publisher for consideration right now.
Pippa Jay: What's it about?
Carrie: It's set in the future after a nuclear war destroys our remaining oil supplies and alters the wind currents of our world. It's about a debutante turned street girl turned scavenger who is finally recruited in to military Corp, called the SkyRyders. Normally, they don't allow scavengers into the Corp, but despite her brief occupation, she scores high on the ethics test, and hands down she is the finest flier that anyone has ever seen. Which is weird since she taught herself to fly only a month before.
Pippa Jay: How is that possible?
Carrie: Turns out a lot of what the Corp teaches their riders to be impossible is wrong. Since no one ever taught her what couldn't be done, she constantly pushed the envelope.
Pippa Jay: Tell me about the romance side?
Carrie: She falls in love with the man who recruited her. He's her colonel.
Trent: *smiles* Falls in love with her boss? Sounds like an excellent book!
Carrie: Only he thinks he's too old for her.
Trent: The hell he does!
Carrie:*grips Trent's hand* Not you...the colonel. He's in his forties and she's twenty one.
Trent: Oh. Yeah, he's too old. However, a six year difference in age isn't too much. In fact, after you take in consideration that guys are reluctant to grow up, we're probably the same age.
Carrie: *chuckles* I have no objection to your age.
Trent: *breathes out in relief*
*Carrie's phone rings*
Carrie: *Sorry, I have to take this. Hello? *grimaces* Okay. *hangs up and faces Pippa Jay*
Liza told me not to talk about the SkyRyder series before it finds a publisher. She says I'll jinx it.
Pippa Jay: Wel,l tell Liza when she is ready to talk about it, she's welcomed back. But right now let's find out more about this crazy book.
Worst Week Ever
by Liza O'Connor
New Adult, Humor, Contemporary
What do you get when you put a hardworking, can-do middle-class young woman together with a egoistical, outrageous, billionaire boss, then throw in the worst week of disasters imaginable?
Book 1 of the 3 book series A Long Road to Love.
Worst Week Ever.
Trent Lancaster spends one month without his Executive Assistant, or as his drivers refers to Carrie: 'Trent's brain, left hand, and right hand'. He's had a miserable month without her at his side and to ensure it never happens again, he intends to marry his brilliant beauty. Only given all the times he's threatened to fire her, he's not sure she even likes him. However, the future of his company and his happiness depend upon him succeeding, so Trent begins a slow one week seduction that happens to coincide with Carrie's Worst Week Ever when everything that can go wrong does so in hilarious form.
(Hilarious to the reader--Carrie is not having much fun this week.)
The door burst open and Trent strode in, followed by a man dressed in a black suit, carrying a tray of food. “Good, you’re finally awake. Saves me from having to throw cold water on you.”
Trent sat on her bed as he pointed to the desk. “Put her breakfast there.”
“On the one of a kind, heirloom desk, which has been in your family since 1845?” his butler asked.
“No!” Carrie yelled over him. “Let’s put it on the bed stand.” She pushed the Tiffany lamp further back to make room.
“Thank you, miss,” the butler said as he placed the silver tray on the stand and then stepped back. “Will there be anything else?”
“No,” her grumpy boss snapped. The moment the butler stepped into the hall, Trent slammed the door closed and glared at Carrie. “Do not countermand my orders to the staff. They’re impossible enough already.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure they say the same about you.” The tantalizing aroma of her food caught her attention. Unable to resist, she peeked beneath the silver lid.
Trent sat a foot away from her on the bed and sniffed at her plate. “I told the cook she’d be fired if you didn’t eat it.”
“If you actually said that, you should go downstairs and apologize. You appear to have a wonderful cook and should value her.”
He shrugged. “She’s okay. Not as good as the last one though.”
Unwrapping her fork from a swaddling of fine linen, Carrie dug into the egg-white omelet. Her eyes rolled in ecstasy. “God, this is fabulous!”
“Really?” He moved closer and stole her fork so he could try some.
She expected him to smile at first taste. Instead, he became annoyed. “Come on! Your taste buds can’t be that jaded.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s very good. Far better than the crap she feeds me.”
Carrie shook her head and swiped the fork. If the cook prepared Trent mediocre meals, she understood why. During her first six months at Lancaster Chairs, Trent had threatened her with unemployment on a daily basis and she’d hated it. She nearly grew to hate him, would have, except his remarks always lacked sincerity, as if he’d learned them rote.
Once she’d consumed a quarter of the omelet, she offered him the fork. He smiled and shook his head. “You finish it. The cook will serve me my gruel later. Probably spit in it for good measure.”
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.
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