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Misconception
It was a recipe for disaster. They were not at all alike. He wore ripped jeans, had a Celtic tattoo, and sported a man bun. She was the fashionably attired CEO of Women’s Walk.
They coveted the same property, a dilapidated house on Linden Road—appropriately named Misconception. He wanted to restore it; she wanted to tear it down.
Confusion reigns when he thinks she is a hooker, and she thinks he paints walls for a living. His demands about her tight clothing and her swearing resonate; however, she shows him that no man will dictate to her.
This artist paints her portrait, and she finally sees life for what it can be.
This straightforward romantic slice of life story will make you believe in fairy tales again.
They coveted the same property, a dilapidated house on Linden Road—appropriately named Misconception. He wanted to restore it; she wanted to tear it down.
Confusion reigns when he thinks she is a hooker, and she thinks he paints walls for a living. His demands about her tight clothing and her swearing resonate; however, she shows him that no man will dictate to her.
This artist paints her portrait, and she finally sees life for what it can be.
This straightforward romantic slice of life story will make you believe in fairy tales again.
248 pages, Kindle Edition
Published September 19, 2016
4 people want to read
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Blurb:
It was a recipe for disaster. They were not at all alike. He wore ripped jeans, had a Celtic tattoo, and sported a man bun. She was the fashionably attired CEO of Women’s Walk.
They coveted the same property, a dilapidated house on Linden Road—appropriately named Misconception. He wanted to restore it; she wanted to tear it down.
Confusion reigns when he thinks she is a hooker, and she thinks he paints walls for a living. His demands about her tight clothing and her swearing resonate; however, she shows him that no man will dictate to her.
This artist paints her portrait, and she finally sees life for what it can be.
Blurb:
It was a recipe for disaster. They were not at all alike. He wore ripped jeans, had a Celtic tattoo, and sported a man bun. She was the fashionably attired CEO of Women’s Walk.
They coveted the same property, a dilapidated house on Linden Road—appropriately named Misconception. He wanted to restore it; she wanted to tear it down.
Confusion reigns when he thinks she is a hooker, and she thinks he paints walls for a living. His demands about her tight clothing and her swearing resonate; however, she shows him that no man will dictate to her.
This artist paints her portrait, and she finally sees life for what it can be.
Displaying 1 of 1 review