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It’s true. I’m not what most people would call “pretty” and, well, high school was rough. Fast forward ten years and life is good…
Until a bunch of jerks think it’s hilarious to put the “butterface” (AKA me) on a wedding Kiss Cam with the hottest guy ever—and that old humiliation hits hard.
I recognize him immediately. The hottest cop in Waterbury and totally out of my league.
But then he kisses me.
And we totally forget the room, the crowd, everything.
Then he tells everyone we’ve been dating for months.
Soon everything starts to feel too real, from adorable fights over “necessary” tools to fix my broken porch to surviving a free-for-all dinner with his six siblings to picking up where our last kiss left off.
But there’s something he’s not telling me about why he’s really hanging around, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with my mob-connected brothers.
Because this is not a make-over story, and Cinderella is only a fairy tale…
272 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 10, 2018









“She wasn’t waiting for Prince Charming, and no fairy godmother was going to give her a makeover. She was who she was, and that was Miss Right Now and Not Miss Forever. She’d better remember that, or there was nothing but trouble ahead for her.”
“He kissed her like a man who believed that if he did it right, she’d forget that anyone had ever called her awful names or made her feel like she wasn’t everything a man could want.”
Because this is not a makeover story, and Cinderella is only a fairy tale…


Butterface. Why? Because her body was okay, “but her face?” Not so much.
“What, do you think people believe this is some lame romantic comedy where the hot guy falls for the ugly chick? Newsflash, I don’t wear glasses, so there’s no taking them off and then suddenly I’m a total babe and believably your girlfriend.”
She did a little shimmy dance move, threw her arms in the air, and turned to face her brothers and Ford at the table with a smile that lit up her whole face.
Maybe there was some asshole out there who could look at her and not return her grin. Ford was a dickhead, but he couldn’t stop the end of his lips from curling upward.
He kissed her like a man who believed that if he did it right, she’d forget that anyone had ever called her awful names or made her feel like she wasn’t everything a man could want.
“You’re gonna break me, Ford Hartigan,” she said, her voice ragged and her back still to him.
“I won’t. Trust me.” And he meant it.
“I wish you saw the woman I see when I look at you.”