Random
8 primary works
Book 1
A New York Times and USA Today bestseller!
I never intended to pick up a naked hitchhiker wearing nothing but a guitar. A guitar. Really. I don't collect guys like that (don't ask what kind of guys I do collect), but when you spot a blonde, tanned, sculpted man with a gorgeous smile and his thumb poking up and practically begging you to stop - you stop.
And I definitely never thought I'd be staring into the bright blue eyes of Trevor Connor, the lead singer for Random Acts of Crazy, an indie rock star I followed like the slobbering fileshare fangirl I am. How he came to be nude and lost six hundred miles from home is quite the tale, but how we fell in love is even more unreal.
Because someone like Trevor Connor, headed to Harvard Law next year, isn't supposed to want someone like me, a rural Ohio chick majoring in Boredom at Convenience Store University who is all curves and frizzy blonde hair and manners so unpolished they have sharp edges that make you bleed.
But he did.
When his best friend, Joe Ross, the bass player for Random Acts of Crazy and a man who makes Calvin Klein models look like Shrek, drove eleven hours through the night to rescue him, though, it got real complicated. It's one thing to like two different guys and be torn.
What do you do, though, when maybe - just maybe - you don't have to choose?
* * * * * *
Random Acts of Crazy is a standalone, full-length novel (300+ pages, 85,000 words) featuring Darla Jo(sephine) Jennings, the 22-year-old niece of Josie Mendham from the Her Two Billionaires series. It has, like many New Adult novels, an exploration of sexuality for the three main characters, doesn't shy away from mature content, and Darla has a sailor's mouth.
I never intended to pick up a naked hitchhiker wearing nothing but a guitar. A guitar. Really. I don't collect guys like that (don't ask what kind of guys I do collect), but when you spot a blonde, tanned, sculpted man with a gorgeous smile and his thumb poking up and practically begging you to stop - you stop.
And I definitely never thought I'd be staring into the bright blue eyes of Trevor Connor, the lead singer for Random Acts of Crazy, an indie rock star I followed like the slobbering fileshare fangirl I am. How he came to be nude and lost six hundred miles from home is quite the tale, but how we fell in love is even more unreal.
Because someone like Trevor Connor, headed to Harvard Law next year, isn't supposed to want someone like me, a rural Ohio chick majoring in Boredom at Convenience Store University who is all curves and frizzy blonde hair and manners so unpolished they have sharp edges that make you bleed.
But he did.
When his best friend, Joe Ross, the bass player for Random Acts of Crazy and a man who makes Calvin Klein models look like Shrek, drove eleven hours through the night to rescue him, though, it got real complicated. It's one thing to like two different guys and be torn.
What do you do, though, when maybe - just maybe - you don't have to choose?
* * * * * *
Random Acts of Crazy is a standalone, full-length novel (300+ pages, 85,000 words) featuring Darla Jo(sephine) Jennings, the 22-year-old niece of Josie Mendham from the Her Two Billionaires series. It has, like many New Adult novels, an exploration of sexuality for the three main characters, doesn't shy away from mature content, and Darla has a sailor's mouth.
Book 2
Giving up is hard...but giving in is even harder.
When did my life become a demented episode from The Mindy Project?
Moving to Boston to begin grad school meant I was supposed to start a new life -- not dig through a past I thought I'd left behind four years ago. But when I saw the poster for Random Acts of Crazy, all I could think about was the drummer, Sam Hinton, the boy I'd loved in high school and who disappeared with my heart.
Who knew I'd become the living version of Magic Mike?
Seeing Amy Smithson at my gig and watching her win a kiss from my bandmate, Liam, was a gut punch. Four years ago we squared off in a high school debate that had higher stakes than we ever imagined, and here I was...wanting what I'd walked away from. Are there too many secrets between us to allow her to trust me again?
And can I trust myself?
* * * * * *
The second book in the Random series after the wildly successful New York Times and USA Today bestseller Random Acts of Crazy, Random Acts of Trust is a New Adult romantic comedy that explores the love between one man, one woman, and ends with one Happily Ever After (and no cliffhangers or chickens!). Fate took their lives by storm four years ago and put an unbreachable gulf between Sam and Amy. This 87,000 word/346 page book asks: Can time really heal all wounds...or are some scars too deep?
When did my life become a demented episode from The Mindy Project?
Moving to Boston to begin grad school meant I was supposed to start a new life -- not dig through a past I thought I'd left behind four years ago. But when I saw the poster for Random Acts of Crazy, all I could think about was the drummer, Sam Hinton, the boy I'd loved in high school and who disappeared with my heart.
Who knew I'd become the living version of Magic Mike?
Seeing Amy Smithson at my gig and watching her win a kiss from my bandmate, Liam, was a gut punch. Four years ago we squared off in a high school debate that had higher stakes than we ever imagined, and here I was...wanting what I'd walked away from. Are there too many secrets between us to allow her to trust me again?
And can I trust myself?
* * * * * *
The second book in the Random series after the wildly successful New York Times and USA Today bestseller Random Acts of Crazy, Random Acts of Trust is a New Adult romantic comedy that explores the love between one man, one woman, and ends with one Happily Ever After (and no cliffhangers or chickens!). Fate took their lives by storm four years ago and put an unbreachable gulf between Sam and Amy. This 87,000 word/346 page book asks: Can time really heal all wounds...or are some scars too deep?
Book 3
You ever really think that you'll win the lottery? Meet Mr. Right? How about two Mr. Rights?
Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want (except for that lottery part...), and I don't like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that's when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama's diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw.
(What? It happens…)
Boring old average me got everything I wanted already, moving from small-town Ohio to big-city Boston to follow my heart. So when the fancy invitation offering me a pile of money to come with the band, Random Acts of Crazy, to perform on an island resort and be their manager arrived, I thought it was a cosmic joke. Enough money to help my mama get what she needed, five days in sunny paradise, and a shot at greatness for the band? Unreal. One big shoe was waiting to drop. On my head.
Just like no one really ever finds a naked man wearing only a guitar standing by the side of the road hitchhiking and ends up falling in love with him and his friend and moving halfway across the country for true love, no one gets an invitation to come to what turns out to be a resort where people make what me and Joe and Trevor do together look like a chaste peck on the cheek. But...
Well.
I guess these things do happen.
To me.
Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want (except for that lottery part...), and I don't like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that's when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama's diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw.
(What? It happens…)
Boring old average me got everything I wanted already, moving from small-town Ohio to big-city Boston to follow my heart. So when the fancy invitation offering me a pile of money to come with the band, Random Acts of Crazy, to perform on an island resort and be their manager arrived, I thought it was a cosmic joke. Enough money to help my mama get what she needed, five days in sunny paradise, and a shot at greatness for the band? Unreal. One big shoe was waiting to drop. On my head.
Just like no one really ever finds a naked man wearing only a guitar standing by the side of the road hitchhiking and ends up falling in love with him and his friend and moving halfway across the country for true love, no one gets an invitation to come to what turns out to be a resort where people make what me and Joe and Trevor do together look like a chaste peck on the cheek. But...
Well.
I guess these things do happen.
To me.
Book 4
She dressed professionally, wearing a plum-colored fuzzy v-neck sweater that contoured to the swell of a rack I remembered so well, legs encased in a slim pencil skirt that embellished those creamy hips I could imagine naked with a flicker of memory, lips painted fire-engine red and that maniac-inducing fifties pin-up girl look that I'd dismissed as silly when the girls in college wore it - but that made her smoking hot.
Down, boy.
God damn Charlotte, my ex-girlfriend, had to be here, of all places. At a bachelorette party where I was a stripper, dressed in a cop uniform with pants that suddenly got way too tight.
And she had to be so fine.
"Ooooh, honey, you're one big officer," said a sultry voice behind me as I watched Charlotte in the other room, chatting with the bride.
A hand stroked my hip and hesitated before sliding a bit lower, filling a palm with my ass. "Arrest me, Officer. I've been a bad, bad girl."
With one look at the source of the voice, my night went from Oh, man to Oh, no.
That voice? That hand?
That was my mother.
* * * * * *
Random Acts of Hope is the fourth book in the romantic comedy Random series, and features guitar player Liam McCarthy from the band, Random Acts of Crazy. Five years ago, Liam and his girlfriend, Charlotte Greyson, were deeply in love. When a betrayal eviscerates them both, each clings to their separate truths as an anchor to navigate the perfect storm.
But when the biggest ego in the band reconnects with the only woman who stole his heart, sparks fly in this sequel that asks whether you can believe in the impossible without sacrificing every ideal you hold - in order to find a love bigger than you ever imagined.
Down, boy.
God damn Charlotte, my ex-girlfriend, had to be here, of all places. At a bachelorette party where I was a stripper, dressed in a cop uniform with pants that suddenly got way too tight.
And she had to be so fine.
"Ooooh, honey, you're one big officer," said a sultry voice behind me as I watched Charlotte in the other room, chatting with the bride.
A hand stroked my hip and hesitated before sliding a bit lower, filling a palm with my ass. "Arrest me, Officer. I've been a bad, bad girl."
With one look at the source of the voice, my night went from Oh, man to Oh, no.
That voice? That hand?
That was my mother.
* * * * * *
Random Acts of Hope is the fourth book in the romantic comedy Random series, and features guitar player Liam McCarthy from the band, Random Acts of Crazy. Five years ago, Liam and his girlfriend, Charlotte Greyson, were deeply in love. When a betrayal eviscerates them both, each clings to their separate truths as an anchor to navigate the perfect storm.
But when the biggest ego in the band reconnects with the only woman who stole his heart, sparks fly in this sequel that asks whether you can believe in the impossible without sacrificing every ideal you hold - in order to find a love bigger than you ever imagined.
Book 5
An old rivalry threatens Sam's long-planned proposal to Amy when a case of mistaken identity makes fists fly. Can a moonlit serenade on a rooftop make up for old mistakes as their future hangs in the balance?
This is a 68-page short story set in the Random series after Random Acts of Hope and before Random Acts of Love, features all of the main characters from the first four Random books (except for Mavis the Chicken. Sorry.)
This is a 68-page short story set in the Random series after Random Acts of Hope and before Random Acts of Love, features all of the main characters from the first four Random books (except for Mavis the Chicken. Sorry.)
Book 6
The last ever-loving thing I ever thought I'd become is a hypocrite.
A big, fat one.
Joe doesn't even want me to meet his parents. Trevor's fine with it, but only if they keep thinking I'm his girlfriend. And only his girlfriend. He doesn't want that pesky little thing called truth to get in the way.
Both of them are my boyfriends. Both.
So then my mama goes and gets engaged - the woman rediscovered her hoohaw! - and I have to head back home to meet my new stepdaddy and attend her wedding.
And she wants me to bring my boyfriend with me.
Um...which one?
This is where the hypocrisy thing comes in, because I've never told her what's really going on with me and my boyfriends.
Funny how making that word plural ends with a hiss.
The easiest thing to do is to tell the truth, right? That's what I've been telling Trevor and Joe for more than a year and a half, and now that the tables are turned on me, what do I do?
Break up with them and run back home.
I never dreamed they'd follow me from Boston back to my trailer park in Ohio.
And claim me for their own.
* * *
Random Acts of Love is the sixth book in the series that started with Random Acts of Crazy, the New York Times bestselling book that introduced readers to Darla, Trevor and Joe. When Darla has to face her own demons (and hypocrisy) by going back home, she learns that love means admitting who you really are to everyone - including yourself.
A big, fat one.
Joe doesn't even want me to meet his parents. Trevor's fine with it, but only if they keep thinking I'm his girlfriend. And only his girlfriend. He doesn't want that pesky little thing called truth to get in the way.
Both of them are my boyfriends. Both.
So then my mama goes and gets engaged - the woman rediscovered her hoohaw! - and I have to head back home to meet my new stepdaddy and attend her wedding.
And she wants me to bring my boyfriend with me.
Um...which one?
This is where the hypocrisy thing comes in, because I've never told her what's really going on with me and my boyfriends.
Funny how making that word plural ends with a hiss.
The easiest thing to do is to tell the truth, right? That's what I've been telling Trevor and Joe for more than a year and a half, and now that the tables are turned on me, what do I do?
Break up with them and run back home.
I never dreamed they'd follow me from Boston back to my trailer park in Ohio.
And claim me for their own.
* * *
Random Acts of Love is the sixth book in the series that started with Random Acts of Crazy, the New York Times bestselling book that introduced readers to Darla, Trevor and Joe. When Darla has to face her own demons (and hypocrisy) by going back home, she learns that love means admitting who you really are to everyone - including yourself.
Book 7
A STANDALONE TO HELP YOU START THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING RANDOM SERIES:
I guzzled another flute of Champagne and froze, the liquid in my throat, waiting to be swallowed.
Tyler was here.
We’d met a few times before, in passing. He was the substitute bass player for the band; I was the lead guitar player’s girlfriend’s best friend. In that weird sort of social circle thing where Venn diagrams get laid over different groups, Tyler and I were bound to be in the crossover once in a while.
He looked so hot. Short brown hair. A few days of beard. Bright green eyes that were more guarded than a Russian mobster’s. He was sleeved, the colorful tattoos a tapestry, but every time I met him I couldn’t quite see them. We only saw each other in dark concert halls, or tonight, under the stars.
He gave Sam a rare smile and a hearty handshake, forearm muscles bulging. I wondered what it would be like to have those hands on me. My fingers tracing those tats. Listening to him tell me the story of his body while he forgave mine.
Forgave it for failing me.
I shook my head fast to banish the thoughts that drew me into places so dark they became black holes of the soul. The gravity of trauma had a way of sucking all the good into it, and tonight I wasn’t going to let that happen. The opposite, in fact.
Tonight I was going to sleep with Tyler.
He didn’t know it yet, but that was okay. He would. Soon.
* * *
Random on Tour: Los Angeles is the 7th book in the New York Times bestselling Random series, the ongoing story of the up-and-coming rock band, Random Acts of Crazy. When the band’s bass player, Joe Ross, gets injured in an unfortunate sex act that gains nationwide coverage, it’s tatted-up Tyler (aka “Frown”) to the rescue for their first big concert.
There’s only one problem: the morning of his flight to L.A. he wakes up to find someone’s stolen all his money, his bass, his ID, and his pride. When he shows up at Maggie’s doorstep to ask her to drive him from their hometown of St. Louis all the way to L.A., these two damaged people learn quickly that being independent doesn’t always mean being free…
Warning: This book deals with the very difficult topic of sexual assault and rape, and I’ve taken great care to address this with the sensitivity and respect it deserves.
None of the scenes in the book contain sexual violence, though the characters do tell their stories of past sexual violence. None of those descriptions is graphic or gratuitous. This book is about hope and healing, but the characters do have past trauma that they discuss.
I guzzled another flute of Champagne and froze, the liquid in my throat, waiting to be swallowed.
Tyler was here.
We’d met a few times before, in passing. He was the substitute bass player for the band; I was the lead guitar player’s girlfriend’s best friend. In that weird sort of social circle thing where Venn diagrams get laid over different groups, Tyler and I were bound to be in the crossover once in a while.
He looked so hot. Short brown hair. A few days of beard. Bright green eyes that were more guarded than a Russian mobster’s. He was sleeved, the colorful tattoos a tapestry, but every time I met him I couldn’t quite see them. We only saw each other in dark concert halls, or tonight, under the stars.
He gave Sam a rare smile and a hearty handshake, forearm muscles bulging. I wondered what it would be like to have those hands on me. My fingers tracing those tats. Listening to him tell me the story of his body while he forgave mine.
Forgave it for failing me.
I shook my head fast to banish the thoughts that drew me into places so dark they became black holes of the soul. The gravity of trauma had a way of sucking all the good into it, and tonight I wasn’t going to let that happen. The opposite, in fact.
Tonight I was going to sleep with Tyler.
He didn’t know it yet, but that was okay. He would. Soon.
* * *
Random on Tour: Los Angeles is the 7th book in the New York Times bestselling Random series, the ongoing story of the up-and-coming rock band, Random Acts of Crazy. When the band’s bass player, Joe Ross, gets injured in an unfortunate sex act that gains nationwide coverage, it’s tatted-up Tyler (aka “Frown”) to the rescue for their first big concert.
There’s only one problem: the morning of his flight to L.A. he wakes up to find someone’s stolen all his money, his bass, his ID, and his pride. When he shows up at Maggie’s doorstep to ask her to drive him from their hometown of St. Louis all the way to L.A., these two damaged people learn quickly that being independent doesn’t always mean being free…
Warning: This book deals with the very difficult topic of sexual assault and rape, and I’ve taken great care to address this with the sensitivity and respect it deserves.
None of the scenes in the book contain sexual violence, though the characters do tell their stories of past sexual violence. None of those descriptions is graphic or gratuitous. This book is about hope and healing, but the characters do have past trauma that they discuss.
Book 8
It all started with a game of Truth or Dare…
It’s bad enough I got arrested for prostitution on Christmas Eve. Alleged prostitution, mind you. I didn’t do it. Of course I didn’t. The cops say I offered up a certain sex act for a $5 gasoline gift card, but honey?
My sex acts are worth way, way more.
So when I tried to explain what happened to the person who came and bailed me out of jail, she wasn’t exactly impressed.
Because it was my boyfriend’s mother.
Now, I got two boyfriends, so Murphy’s Law said it had to be the mother I hate the most. And she hates me right back. Even more now that I lost her son.
That’s right. Where in the hell are Joe and Trevor? It’s Christmas Eve, and I keep getting pictures on social media showing Joe and Trevor all oiled up in g-strings that look like candy canes, dancing with a bunch of well-coiffed older women.
I, on the other hand, am wearing Santa pants, flip flops, and smell like jail cell pee.
That game of Truth or Dare turns out to be way more dangerous than anyone expected.
And our savior? It ain’t the baby Jesus. Not the three wise men. No little drummer boy. Not even the donkey that carried the Virgin Mary on its back while she howled for an epidural.
Nope. Can you guess?
That’s right.
Mavis the Chicken.
Can she help us out of this clustercluck?
* * *
Merry Random Christmas is the eighth book in the New York Times bestselling Random series. Join the gang on Christmas Eve as Darla is unfairly arrested, Trevor and Joe are forced to become strippers, and candy canes appear in places where sugar is a bad, bad idea in this crazy, rollicking romp.
It’s bad enough I got arrested for prostitution on Christmas Eve. Alleged prostitution, mind you. I didn’t do it. Of course I didn’t. The cops say I offered up a certain sex act for a $5 gasoline gift card, but honey?
My sex acts are worth way, way more.
So when I tried to explain what happened to the person who came and bailed me out of jail, she wasn’t exactly impressed.
Because it was my boyfriend’s mother.
Now, I got two boyfriends, so Murphy’s Law said it had to be the mother I hate the most. And she hates me right back. Even more now that I lost her son.
That’s right. Where in the hell are Joe and Trevor? It’s Christmas Eve, and I keep getting pictures on social media showing Joe and Trevor all oiled up in g-strings that look like candy canes, dancing with a bunch of well-coiffed older women.
I, on the other hand, am wearing Santa pants, flip flops, and smell like jail cell pee.
That game of Truth or Dare turns out to be way more dangerous than anyone expected.
And our savior? It ain’t the baby Jesus. Not the three wise men. No little drummer boy. Not even the donkey that carried the Virgin Mary on its back while she howled for an epidural.
Nope. Can you guess?
That’s right.
Mavis the Chicken.
Can she help us out of this clustercluck?
* * *
Merry Random Christmas is the eighth book in the New York Times bestselling Random series. Join the gang on Christmas Eve as Darla is unfairly arrested, Trevor and Joe are forced to become strippers, and candy canes appear in places where sugar is a bad, bad idea in this crazy, rollicking romp.