Coming February 1st
…is my new six-book series: Lizzy Finds the One. The first three books will be released this first half of 2025, beginning with Book 1: The One Who Can’t Commit (Release Date: February 1, 2025), followed by Book 2: The One Who’s Too Perfect (Release Date: March 2, 2025), and then with Book 3: The One Who Talks Nonstop (Release Date: April 2, 2025).
Lizzy lives by one rule: hurt them before they hurt you. With a sharp tongue, a flair for chaos, and a trail of failed relationships, she’s mastered the art of self-preservation. But when her meddling turns her into an accidental matchmaker—and brings her face-to-face with the one man immune to her games—her perfectly crafted defenses start to crumble. Can Lizzy recognize “the one” before she ruins her own shot at happiness?
In Book 1, The One Who Can’t Commit, we meet down-in-the-dumps Lizzy who uses her position as Events Coordinator at Pinnacle Sports Management to impose a bit of suffering on others. She thinks she’s succeeded when she pairs her ex with his recent ex-girlfriend at a company event.
Sneak Peek
My walkie vibrated relentlessly in my hand. I pressed the button to talk, my tone sharp enough to slice through the chaos.
“Lizzy. Bring the backup projector online now,” I barked, moving toward the AV setup. “And someone please figure out what’s burning before I have to pull the fire alarm and really give these people something to talk about.”
I took another whiff of the ominous smell, and sighed. This event was supposed to showcase my planning prowess and prove I was ready for the next big promotion. Instead, it was shaping up to be a lesson in how not to plan a corporate event.
But hey, if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was handling disasters. Or at least looking like I could until the next fire started.
I finally arrived backstage and it felt like entering a different universe. The area was a dimly lit, blissfully quieter, dust-scented world where the chaos of the ballroom was temporarily muffled. For one fleeting moment, I imagined this was my escape hatch, my fortress of solitude.
Then I rounded the corner, and there they were.
Carter—let’s call him “The One Who Can’t Commit”—was locked in what I can only describe as a contortionist-grade embrace with Lucy, my firecracker of an admin assistant.
He works fast, I thought. I’d just seen him leaning against the bar ten minutes ago.
Her giggle echoed softly in the darkness as his hands clung to her hips. My brain short-circuited for a good three seconds processing the vertical impossibility of their position.
Even though I did have firsthand knowledge of Carter’s… let’s say, abilities, it still was quite a sight to see it from the third person point-of-view.
But the real cherry on this disaster sundae? They were parked right in front of the equipment rack. The one holding the AV cables I desperately needed. Naturally. Out of all the places the cables could be, they just had to be stashed behind my infuriatingly attractive ex and our annoyingly bendy coworker.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice sliced through the moment, and they froze, wide-eyed and guilty, like deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
I squared my shoulders and stomped forward, because this night clearly wasn’t done testing my patience. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice saccharine-sweet with a dash of passive-aggressive spice.
Carter’s mouth froze mid-smirk, morphing into the universal Oh-no-I’ve-been-caught expression. Lucy, meanwhile, tugged at her skirt like it might somehow pull her dignity back into place and refused to meet my gaze.
He shifted as if to step aside and give me access to the equipment rack, only to realize that moving would literally expose their situation. She giggled, her face flushing the exact shade of an overcooked lobster, equal parts embarrassment and awkwardness.
The thick cloud of her perfume was something cloyingly sweet, like artificial vanilla and bad decisions. As I leaned in close to Lucy to reach for the AV equipment rack, the scent clung to the back of my throat, making my eyes water as I leaned past them to grab the cables.
“Really? Now?” I snapped, throwing my hands (and cables) in the air like I was officiating the world’s worst penalty. “Of all times and places, this is what you pick?”
Carter opened his mouth, probably to stammer out some excuse about how they were just talking.
But I wasn’t sticking around for the grand finale. I spun on my heel and marched off, my heels clicking in time with the angry thumping of my pulse.
Because of course, even my work event had to double as a live-action reminder of my train-wreck love life. Somewhere in the universe, Cupid was probably laughing his chubby little wings off at my expense.
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