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bookinformationTL AmazonGRSWAuthor: Wendy Owens
Title: The Luckiest

This book may be unsuitable for people under 17 years of age due to its use of sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and/or violence.

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Once upon a time Mackenzie Phillips thought she’d found her happily ever after. She had married her high school sweetheart and had started her perfect family. But one tragic night Mac’s perfect life was ripped away from her, leaving her beautiful fairy tale existence in ruins.

When everything worth living for is suddenly taken from you, how do you keep going? People told her how lucky she was just to be alive after that night, but she didn’t agree.

Years passed with Mac living in a fog, until another unfortunate turn of events placed her world on its head once again. Now, still carrying the tender wounds of her past, this widow has to face the realities of life again.

Broken and truly alone, she must find work. In walks her new employer, Dean Johnson, a guy who is just broken enough himself, that she thinks he might actually be able to understand her. But Mac soon discovers that that bond with Dean may instead force her to face demons she isn’t yet ready to deal with.

**Contains mature material including language and sex.


I glance in, but the box is dark inside all of the tissue paper. My hands retrieve the first item. “Buckeyes!” I exclaim.

“I can see why she’s your best friend.” Dean leans on one elbow, watching me explore the contents one by one.

I reach in, continuing to pull out items—a black hair scarf with cherries, a pair of earrings from one of my favorite local jewelry designers in Cincinnati, Abbi Glines’s newest steamy romance. My cheeks go hot as Dean sees the cover, lifting his eyebrows.

“Well, I think that’s it,” I say, lifting the box, the sound of something shifting inside catching my attention. “Oh, there’s something else.” I reach in, and as I do, I can feel Dean’s eyes locked on me. I feel something long and cool slip into my hand. Locking my fingers around it, I let the box fall away. Instantly, I see Dean straighten up, a half-cocked grin on his face.

Much to my horror, I look down to see a pink rubber penis-shaped device in my hand. I freeze, but my cheeks are on fire. All I can think about is the different ways I am going to torture Monica before I kill her.

“I can explain,” I begin. I’ll tell him she’s crazy—like actually certifiable.

He’s still grinning at me as he gives me a slight nod. He closes the gap between us even more.

“You know, I can help with that,” he offers, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s serious, or perhaps maybe I’m wishing.

“You think I’m that easy?” I hit the ball squarely back to him. I consider licking my lips, but worry that may be over the top. I’m looking directly at him, and damn, he’s incredible.

“A guy can hope.” He pauses, playfully lifting an eyebrow. “Can’t he?” I grin. In fact, I can’t do anything but grin. He moves closer, and I glance down, realizing I’m still holding the device. My breath hitches, but he still moves closer. He’s facing me, never moving those gorgeous blue eyes away from me. He slides his arm around my waist, and as he presses himself against me, I’m sure I can feel an erection. This surprises me, and my hand releases the dildo, which falls to the floor with a thud.

“What’s wrong? Can’t contain your excitement around me?” he whispers, his breath warm on my neck, just below my ear. My mouth is watering, my heartbeat quickens, and my head is now spinning. I pull back, the distance giving me a slight bit of clarity. The idea of this kind of pleasure is tempting. The bulge in his jeans tells me he is interested.

In an attempt to casually conceal the pink rubber shaft, I use the toe of my platform sandals to kick it under a nearby chair. Dean cocks a brow, his face shifts, and he laughs softly.

“What?” I shrug innocently.

“Did you just kick a dick under a chair?” He’s still laughing.

“Watch it, or I might make a habit of it.”

“Ouch,” he hisses, then winces, grabbing himself as if he were imagining the attack.

My eyes dart past his shoulder, where Storm is coming up the stairs. She has on her headphones, staring at the face of her phone. I nod my head at Dean, indicating we’re no longer alone. I shift, moving to walk past him. He grabs my hip, pulling me into his grasp.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promises. He takes my hand and leads me past Storm and out of the bus without a word. I wonder if she can tell what had been transpiring from the look on my face.

As we move around the side of the bus, I feel his hand shift to the small of my back. It’s like he knows all the places to touch me to drive me absolutely insane.


Why did you decide to become a writer?
I first started writing when I was in third or fourth grade. There was a poetry competition at school that I entered and won. From there I wrote my first novel when I was 14. It was complete and total crap, but I thought it was brilliant at the time. Later in high school I got interested in art as well. As an adult I always wanted to write, but
never thought I could make a living out of it. I was determined to do something creative so I began making art and selling it at art shows all over the country and online. That lasted for about 6 years, but the traveling became too hard with three kids. That was when my husband saw an article about the indie publishing world. In 2011 he
urged me to try my hand at my dream. I did and I have never looked back.

Who/what are your writing inspirations?
For my romance I write about what is happening in my life or the people around me. For my fantasy and sci/fi I am often inspired by film and television. Browncoats forever!

What are your favorite genres to read?
I love me some YA Fantasy or paranormal. Dystopians are always good too.

Favorite writing food / snack?
PB M&Ms although lately I’ve been trying to be good so cookie dough quest bars have been filling the need.

What do you hope readers take away most from your writing?
Hope. In all I write I try to convey hope in one way or another.

Who’s the favorite character of yours that you’ve written and why?
MacKenzie Phillips from The Luckiest. She reminds me a lot of myself. I found myself reliant on a man and his opinions of me for my success. I stepped out of that relationship and forged my own path in life. It was hard as hell, but in my marriage I am now a stronger partner for it. Mac is a lot like that.

What is your writing style? Outliner/Planner or Seat of the Pantser?
I am an odd mix. I do an over arc, a couple sentence summary of each chapter, and then I let the characters go nuts. I will change things, add chapters wherever I think they need to go, and I am even willing to change my outline completely in the story calls for it.

If someone wanted to become a writer, what tips would you give to them?
The first thing is read a lot because it will help you become a better writer. The second is just write. Even if it’s in a journal, write every single day.

Have you ever purchased something from a late-night infomercial? If so, what?
Insanity workout DVDs. My husband and I actually did them and it was a great investment.

If you could collaborate with any other author(living, dead, or
undead) who would that be and why?

JK Rowling. I think she could school me on world building.

If you weren’t a writer, what would you do?
I’d be a painter.

Coke, Pepsi, or?
I would have said Diet Coke but I have been off of it for 2 weeks. I still want it though.

What’s one thing people should know and/or don’t know about you? I am
a big time nerd. I love the sci fi channel. My favorite movies are the
new Star Trek films, and my idea of the perfect vacation is comic con.

Is there a character that has the most “You” in them? Or the opposite of you?
MacKenzie Phillips, besides her love of ice cream she has my streak of determination.

If we lived in a Fahrenheit 451 culture, which book would you want to memorize?
The Bible, I would never want to forget the messages of forgiveness and love.