Alexa Rayne

“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. When I stood up there, in front of all those cameras, it was like when they say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. I saw all the years ahead— and not one of them mattered worth a damn. Because I didn’t have you there with me. I love you, Olivia. I don’t need a kingdom—if you’re beside me, I already have the whole world.”
― Emma Chase, Royally Screwed

“Our job isn't to protect them from their own dumb choices; it's to teach them to make better ones. Teach them how not to be a screw-up in a screwed up world.”
― Emma Chase, Getting Schooled

“Steven’s words slush together as he gets to his feet. “Crossing this one off the bucket list.” Then he
unbuckles his belt and grabs the waist of his pants—yanking the suckers down to his ankles—tighty
whities and all.
Every guy in the car holds up his hands to try to block the spectacle. We groan and complain. “My
eyes! They burn!”
“Put the boa constrictor back in his cage, man.”
“This is not the ass I planned on seeing tonight.”
Our protests fall on deaf ears. Steven is a man on a mission. Wordlessly, he squats and shoves his lilywhite
ass out the window—mooning the gaggle of grannies in the car next to us.
I bet you thought this kind of stuff only happened in movies.
He grins while his ass blows in the wind for a good ninety seconds, ensuring optimal viewage. Then
he pulls his slacks up, turns around, and leans out the window, laughing. “Enjoying the full moon, ladies?”
Wow. Steven usually isn’t the type to visually assault the elderly.
Without warning, his crazy cackling is cut off. He’s silent for a beat, then I hear him choke out a single
strangled word.
“Grandma?”
Then he’s diving back into the limo, his face grayish, dazed, and totally sober. He stares at the floor.
“No way that just happened.”
Matthew and I look at each other hopefully, then we scramble to the window. Sure enough, in the
driver’s seat of that big old Town Car is none other than Loretta P. Reinhart. Mom to George; Grandma to
Steven.
What are the fucking odds, huh?
....
Matthew and I wave and smile and in fourth-grader-like, singsong harmony call out, “Hi, Mrs.
Reinhart.”
She shakes one wrinkled fist in our direction. Then her poofy-haired companion in the backseat flips
us the bird. I’m pretty sure it’s the funniest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
The two of us collapse back into our seats, laughing hysterically.”
― Emma Chase, Tied

“It's scary, I know. Giving someone that kind of power over you – accepting that your happiness will forever hinge on theirs. But it's worth it.”
― Emma Chase, Appealed