Meet the heroes of Crazy Loves Crazy Lies
September 12th is right around the corner, and I can’t wait!
Why? Because it is the day I finally launch the next book in my All’s Crazy in Love series. This series about eight brilliant, meddling and totally lovable women who call themselves the ‘Crazy Eights,’ is full of humor, angst, sexy and romance, tons and tons of romance.
And Crazy Loves Crazy Lies is no different. A love triangle, second chance romance set against the backdrop of a political campaign, this is a story unlike any I have written before. It has a ‘ripped from the headlines’ feeling, while remaining a timeless, enemies-to-lovers tale.
A Little of the Plot for Crazy Loves Crazy Lies
Meet Veronika, young cousin to Sofia, the hero of Crazy to Believe. Ronni has just landed a job as press liaison for rising star Jack Cooper, a millionaire who aspires to being the next governor of Illinois. The candidate is too good to be true until ace reporter Spencer Maddox begins uncovering Jack’s true self. What’s a girl to do?
Two powerful and very sexy men are pulling her in two opposing directions. Loyal to one, desiring the other, Ronni must decide if she is the journalist she wants to be, a woman in pursuit of the truth, or a loyal employee who wants her candidate elected.
And how can she choose when her heart and her head pull her in different directions?
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An Excerpt from Crazy Loves Crazy Lies
I had it all under control—until I got the voicemail.
I mean, it wasn’t every day that Spencer Maddox, Emmy Award-winning journalist, left a voice message in that polished, anchorman voice of his, asking to spend a week with my candidate. A week! The exposure was irresistible. The same butterflies that had kept me awake all last night fluttered in my stomach just recalling it. Not in a good way.
Normally I would be beside myself at the prospect of working beside Spencer Maddox. It was every journalist’s dream. The guy was charismatic as hell, smarter than anyone in the business and outrageously successful before age thirty-five. He was a legend, one I never dreamed I’d have the chance to meet again, although I’d hoped. But not like this. He wanted something, and I knew in my gut, what was good for Spencer Maddox would be bad for my boss, and that meant it would be dreadful for me.
Spending a week working with Spencer Maddox would be equivalent to a year at a leading journalism school, maybe more. I’d be watching cable’s leading anchorman and top investigative journalist in action. Unfortunately, he would dig into my candidate. He wasn’t interested in Jack because he was a rising star; he was interested in taking him down. That’s what he did. Spencer Maddox wouldn’t be asking for a full week on the story if he didn’t already have a lead on something big enough to be Emmy Award worthy.
And there was no way I would shake Spencer. The exposure would be irresistible to Jack, and since he swore he was squeaky clean, the candidate wouldn’t be afraid of the damage Spencer Maddox could do. But I was.
I couldn’t do battle at this level. Not even close. Not with our history.
I’d been press liaison for barely a month. Jack Cooper was at the top of his game, leaving his opposition in the dust, and why not? He was the better candidate on the issues, and he excelled in public. Jack kept policy information at his fingertips and was inexhaustible despite ridiculously long days and nights crisscrossing the state. He charmed little old ladies, won over tough blue-collar workers, and convinced minorities he was their man.
He was winning over the voters, despite remaining tight-lipped about his personal life. They responded to his serious demeanor, although I felt he could use a bit more humor. He impressed them with his business acumen and his outline for improving the lives of the people of Illinois.
His brilliant mind and compassion wowed me as well. It didn’t hurt that he was too handsome to be real, always impeccably dressed, with broad shoulders, long strides, and nary a hair out of place. Coop was confident to the point of arrogance, but charming all the same. He wanted to make the world a better place. He was my perfect Prince Charming. Of course, he had my vote.
My career was on the rise, and the compliments Jack threw my way fed my pitiful requirement for positive feedback and served as my only source of a social life. He dropped vague hints of staying with the team after the election, and I considered it a possibility instead of returning to my dream of reporting.
Spencer Maddox was going to ruin all of that.
The award-winning journalist should improve my career odds by exposing me to a week spent following a master in his native habitat. I mean, the man was a big deal. But sadly, he was one I was unskilled in handling, and he was hellbent on destroying my candidate and with him, my career. Up all night, I had yet to figure out how to stop this freight train.
Until I returned last night’s phone call, until I learned more, I was at a loss. It wouldn’t matter. I wouldn’t be able to rein Jack in. If I were in his shoes, I guess I would do the same, but as his advisor, my gut warned against walking into this. Wouldn’t matter. Jack would still say yes.
Of course, he would. And that was the problem.
It was barely seven when my cell phone jangled in my pocket. I knew it was Spencer Maddox. Not a lowly staff person but the man himself.
If he were the President of the United States, I couldn’t have been more nervous. My palms grew sweaty; my heart sped up. Spencer Maddox was calling me. Again. Spencer Maddox. The reason I chose a career in communications. A god among men was calling me. A man I loathed.
I let it ring as I moved past the volunteer putting a tally board on the south wall, ready to capture today’s activity., The local story that ran last night was flattering, and we expected it to generate donor magic today.
The phone quieted, only to jangle again moments later. Even by the standards of his fast-paced world, Spencer Maddox hadn’t given me time to return his call from ten o’clock last night. Did he expect me to call him before I went to bed? I guessed journalists worked around the clock if they wanted to keep hosting the top-rated news show in America.
I reached for the handset on the office phone to dial the number displayed on my cell. I wanted my cell free for texting Coop if I needed to. I was beginning negotiations and needed to keep my head. I needed to remember this man and I were adversaries no matter how much I revered his skill.
Not quite ready to deal with him, I planted my butt on the edge of the office chair in front of me, grabbed a pencil, and opened my portfolio. The second call stopped only to start again. The man was relentless and annoying. My foot started jiggling under the desk. When I almost lost my balance, I scooted back on the seat more firmly.
Okay, Ronni, you are about to match wits with a reporter known for his investigative reporting. He’ll be digging for something. Spencer Maddox is calling for a reason, and he won’t be honest about it. Prepare yourself to play cat and mouse.
The burden was on me to read between the lines. I’d stalled as long as I could, but he continued to call. Whatever he wanted, Spencer Maddox wanted it badly. I took a deep breath and punched the numbers too hard, snapping a fingernail. I’m sure he could hear the annoyance in my voice as I spoke. “Mr. Maddox? Veronika Gorelick returning your call.”
“I’ve left you a dozen messages, Ms. Gorelick,” a deep, gravelly voice I would recognize anywhere vibrated with matching irritation. He drew out my name as if he were taunting me. My pulse sped up. I barely had time to register the fact that I was actually speaking with Spencer Maddox after all these years. I was still star-struck, and I knew it. It was crucial Spencer Maddox not know that. I could only hope he’d forgotten me.
“It’s Ronni. You’ve only left one, and we both know it.” The lie settled me down surprisingly. “What can I do for you, Mr. Maddox?”
“No pleasantries? Fine. And it’s Spencer.”
“What can I do for you, Spencer?” I asked, rolling the name around in my mouth, liking the feel and sound of it, eager to say it again.
He hesitated long enough to make me wonder what he was going to say before he finally replied. “Like I said in my message, I want a week with your candidate. Full access.” Something about the way he uttered those last two words sounded sexual.
“Full access?” I screeched. So much for calm. Sitting up too fast, I almost lost my balance, dropped the phone with a thud, and kicked my shoe under the desk. As if he could see it all, Spencer Maddox laughed, a wicked snicker that sent electricity pulsing through my nerves. There was something about his laugh that made me forget for a moment who he was, who I was, confusing me. Oh my, oh my.
There was a long pause while I worked to recall what we were discussing. I couldn’t get past that laugh and its effect on me.
I remembered everything I had read, heard and knew about the man, about the trail of broken hearts forsaken wherever he worked, including mine. One laugh and my humiliation came flooding back. I knew Spencer was gorgeous, and now there was that rich, rumbling voice, that roguish laugh. I was certain Spencer Maddox knew exactly how to please a woman, and how to toy with one. My head forgot about the negotiations, already outmaneuvered. I was doomed.
“Full access,” he reminded me. It took me a second to recollect we had been discussing political news coverage.
I sat up straighter, pushing against the back of the chair, as if that would make me more professional. “You said nothing about that level of access in your voicemail. Why would you need that?” I regained my composure and finally behaved as a seasoned press liaison would. “And why would I be stupid enough to grant it?”
“Because I am offering your candidate a week of coverage on the number one cable news program in America. I know your man. We went to Brown together. We both know when you take this to him, he’ll jump at the chance for national exposure. His ego is too damn big to turn it down.”
“He doesn’t understand that you’re not here to flatter him. I do.”
“Coop’s not stupid,” Spencer replied, his tone implying that I was the fool for even suggesting it. “He knows the reporting I do. It will be hard-hitting, but it will be fair.”
I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Jack would never turn down a week with Spencer Maddox, and we both knew it. Spencer was right; his ego was too big. Jack Cooper believed nothing could touch him, doing as well as he was this close to election day, even if he had something to worry about. And the man was ambitious. A week of coverage on a show like Spencer Maddox’s would reach millions of people, businesspeople and voters. Coop would never pass up that opportunity. Pretending this was a negotiation any longer would only make me look ridiculous. I cut to the chase. “What is it you have on Jack Cooper, Mr. Maddox?”
“Spencer.” His voice was low, almost, but not quite a whisper. Definitely an invitation. Did the man do this intentionally, to keep me off balance, or was flirtation so inbred he couldn’t help himself?
I had to keep my wits about me. He was already winning the professional battle. If I allowed him to get under my skin personally as well, I’d never be able to work with this man. And I really wanted a chance to learn from him professionally.
First, I would stop calling him Spencer. I just couldn’t, not when I needed to play hardball. Even thinking of him that way conjured images of lingering smiles, smoldering looks, a gradual building of a relationship built on deep conversations about world events, a mutual love of news reporting, politics, sex, and each other. And rejection.
OMG, how did I get here so fast?
I shook my head and thought of Spencer Maddox as the man who wrote Pulitzer prize winning memoirs, won Emmys, the respected newsman sitting behind an anchor desk instead of the man flirting with me to get his way. If I wanted to be taken seriously as a journalist, as a political operative, by a man of his stature, an international superstar, a bestselling author, newsworthy in his own right and America’s number one anchorman, I had to behave like one myself, not like a love-struck groupie.
“What is the story, Mr. Maddox?” My voice was all business. “Because we both know you wouldn’t bother with the Illinois gubernatorial race unless you had something newsworthy on a national scale.”
“Rumors are swirling, Ms. Gorelick.” Ah, so he was being formal, too. It seemed we were both preparing for battle. The gloves were off. “And what is that old cliché? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
Damn those butterflies. They returned to my belly with a vengeance, wings fluttering wildly. I wasn’t sure if it was from Spencer’s threats or the unmistakable flirtation in his baritone when he said, ‘There’s fire.’ He was playing with me.
I was so far over my head I might as well be at the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft.
I needed to hold it together with this man of all people. I had seen Spencer Maddox go for the jugular, night after night, on national television. He could tear me to shreds in seconds if he wanted to. But so far, he was playing footsie, flirting.
“What exactly are you thinking?”
“Right now?” he joked.
“Spencer, be serious.”
“If I must, Veronika,” he said, caressing my name. “I’m expecting an in-depth series on Jack Cooper, the candidate and the man. We would discuss his past, his present, his finances, his love life, and all his policy positions. Of course, our team would dig for inconsistencies, flip-flops, and dirt in our reporting. We would look into his business, his charity, the works.”
“Would you just call me, Ronni. Is that everything?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my words.
“Well, I expect that somewhere we would find a chink in your white knight’s armor. A big one. And we would expose it.”
Of course, he would. A man of Spencer Maddox’s stature wouldn’t be asking for a week with Coop unless he already had something nasty on the candidate or was close to putting his mitts on it. But I couldn’t refuse.
“And that would be all?”
My job was to be one step ahead of the man, of the entire press. Yet as hard as I dug, so far, I’d found nothing to mar Jack Cooper’s unblemished image. He was perfect. In fact, I was admittedly a little in love with this man who was smart, handsome, rich, and driven, from wholesome farm-boy roots, now polished to perfection. Except for Jack Cooper’s secretive exterior, he was exactly the type of man I was looking for.
If there was nothing for the newsman to find, why was I so worried?
Maybe because Spencer Maddox was renowned for his interviewing style but was also quite the ladies’ man, dubbed the James Bond of Journalism. Killer newsman on screen, ladies’ man off. I’d just experienced him turn on a low-level flirtation with me during a five-minute phone call, and we had a history, such as it was, so I certainly believed the rumors. I’d also heard he was a spy for the CIA, using his journalism credentials as a cover.
I could envision him as a spy, a superstar, superman. I forgot the risk he posed, dazzled by his laughter and flirtatious ways. There was a long lull in the conversation. He wasn’t answering my direct question, leaving my mind time to wander. My nerves calmed, but I was back to focusing on Spencer Maddox the man, instead of the threat, while my pipedreams of a romance between us ran amok.
“You’re awfully quiet, Ronni.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t.” Smooth. The man was so smooth. “I didn’t think I needed to. I thought we understood one another. Let’s move on.”
I chided myself to get it together. Holding the phone closer to my ear, I chose my words carefully. “Mr. Maddox, the candidate is a very busy man, and I cannot presume that this series of interviews would be in his best interest.” My voice came out snappier than intended.
The line was quiet but only briefly, and then I heard that low snicker that rattled my nerves. I was no competition for Spencer Maddox, and he knew it.
“I can almost hear those wheels turning, Ronni. What will I tell my boss, you’re wondering? After all, this is Spencer Maddox asking for access. He has the number one news show in America. How can I turn down an opportunity like this? Why would he want to follow my candidate unless he’s up to something, right? So, what is he up to?”’
Weren’t those my exact thoughts? I wanted to wipe the smug grin off this man’s face, and I couldn’t even see it. “Oh, shut up,” I groaned instead.
“Let me make this easy for you,” he continued, triumph in his tone. “I believe Jack Cooper is hiding dark secrets, and I intend to uncover them and expose him. But we also know that much as you might want to, there is no way you are refusing my request. If you take it to Jack Cooper, he’ll think he can beat me, game the system. He’ll jump at the chance to put his accomplishments on full display. He’s not as cautious as you are.”
“He should be.” I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.
“Learning quickly, aren’t you? But your candidate insists there is nothing for me to find, right? So, he’ll get what he wants—exposure. And I’ll give you two advantages I wouldn’t give just anyone.”
“Why?” I was suspicious. Rightly so.
“Let’s just say I like you and leave it at that.” He liked me? Now I really was disbelieving. And ridiculously excited—a schoolgirl getting a note from the boy she was crushing on.
“You don’t even know me,” I blurted out without thinking.
Another long pause. “Don’t you want the deal? I think you do, Ronni. Take it or leave it.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Ronni, relax.” I could feel myself responding to his confidence and humor. The man was killing me.
“Those wheels are churning again. You have three weeks. Imagine what you might find in twenty-one whole days.” And then he laughed, a full-bodied, deep laugh. A laugh that made you want to laugh along with him. “I’ll give you full access to me if that helps.”’
My insides turned to jelly. The woman in me responded to his voice, his laugh, his confidence, and the innuendo. The press liaison in me recognized that he’d won, and he knew it.
“Full access to you, huh? And just what would that look like?”
The line was quiet. I could hear Spencer Maddox breathing. Had I left the brilliant man of words speechless?
“Looking forward to working with you, Ronni. I’ll send over the paperwork today.”
The phone went dead. Damn the man; he never even waited for my answer.
Some extraordinarily successful and impressive men surrounded me. I was playing in the big-time now.
Yesterday, I would have said Jack Cooper hung the moon. Now, I wondered if Spencer Maddox might hang the stars. And how was I lucky enough to travel in their exalted orbits?
Then reality smacked me between the eyes. I hung up the receiver and dug for my shoe. I wouldn’t travel in their circle. Instead, I would search for a new job after I got fired from this one.
Spencer Maddox was going to dance circles around me and then sink my candidate somehow, and I only had three weeks to stop it. I needed to get help fast. If I didn’t get Coop to open up to me further about his past, I wouldn’t know how to prep him. Without that information, Spencer Maddox would eat him alive.
I had no clue where Spencer Maddox was digging, and less than a month to find out. It was time to stop being swayed by their good looks and allure — time to concentrate on my job for five minutes.
Why did powerful men have to be so damn sexy and delicious while they held the ability to destroy my life?
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Ready to Read More?
Crazy Loves Crazy Lies is available for preorder on Amazon. Order your copy here.
Prefer a paperback? Watch this space for an update on availability later this year.
To start the All’s Crazy in Love series from the beginning, begin with Crazy to Wed, and meet all the Crazy Eights.