Finding
Jordie
By: H.J. Harley
Blurb
Jordie is a survivor, tough and
independent. She's had to be, since her husband was killed in Iraq. For the
last eight years, raising her daughter and owning a popular New York City bar
has kept Jordie plenty busy, leaving her no time for much of anything else.
Aside from her sassy yet squirrely best friend Rachel, Jordie's social life is
bare bones and her love life nonexistent. Truth be told she wouldn't change a
thing; she's never been happier.
Then she meets Nathan, and he changes everything with one crooked smile, triggering a chain of life-altering events for the two of them, filled with romance, chaos, and deadly peril. Neither of them could ever imagine their relationship would resurrect an unknown darkness from Jordie's past, lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Jordie has never needed to be stronger for all of them to make it out alive.
Sensuality Level: Sensual
I loved Jordie from the very beginning, her no-nonsense independent attitude and the witty banter she shares with her best friend Rachel. I always thought it'd be a blast to own a bar :) Add in that she also happens to be a mother of a 9 year old totally surprised me but with a little help from her sister in Jersey and a daughter that sometimes even resembles an adult in stature, you have one kick-ass heroine. A heroine that is totally fine with how things are... her own bar, her own apartment (buidling since she owns it) and her own rules. Until hottie Nathan enters the picture....
And enter the picture he did. I really think she fell for him from the very beginning when she was getting her but kicked by a dude 3 times her size. It was quite a nice change for Nathan to watch this little scrap of a female get knocked down and get right back up fighting. She didn't need anybody and she didn't know who he was which enabled them to form a great romance with ornery interaction which i loved, without all the pomp and circumstance at the beginning.
Unfortunately for the whole group, there is plenty of that 'pomp and circumstance', paparazzi and even a deadly darkness from Jordie's past to deal with and overcome. Our author does a tremendous job working these great characters through each sticky situation they find themselves in. With a great amount of suspense, much love, even more understanding and an unforgettable depth-developed bodyguard or two, this story turned into one of my favorites :)
I can't reveal anymore no matter how bad I want to tell you how it all ends. You just need to read it and I know you'll love it as much as I did !!!
Currently on the hunt for more HJ Harley books :) 5 stars for sure !!
Excerpt
“Fuck!” I blurted out as I reached my steps. Nathan was perched
there halfway up and, my Lord, he was looking fine.
“Is that a statement or a request?” He grinned mischievously at me, a grin that touched those amazing blue eyes.
Oh shit, he’s here … on my front porch. My heart slammed into my throat and I was pretty sure I had lost the ability to form a coherent sentence.
“Hi?” was all I could manage to say. What was he doing here at three A.M.?
“I wanted to make sure you made it home safely,” he said, as if answering my silent question.
“Nut. Job,” I mouthed slowly to him.
He laughed, unveiling that beautiful, perfect, white-toothed smile that made his eyes even
brighter. Then it happened. With that one smile, I surrendered to whatever
it was inside of me I was fighting. I could no longer worry about how this
story would end
when all I wanted to do was start it. I walked past him. “Want to come up for a beer or something?” I unlocked the door and waited for the impact of the rejection.
“Or something.”
I could hear the smirk in his tone.
“Is that a statement or a request?” Ugh, what are you doing? Is this flirting? I silently sighed. Rachel had never been more correct — it had been too long. “Lock the door behind you, please.” I started the two-flight journey to my apartment. We reached my door, and I took a deep breath while I unlocked it. We walked in and I tossed my crap on the table as usual. He closed the door, and I heard the click of the
lock.
“Is that a statement or a request?” He grinned mischievously at me, a grin that touched those amazing blue eyes.
Oh shit, he’s here … on my front porch. My heart slammed into my throat and I was pretty sure I had lost the ability to form a coherent sentence.
“Hi?” was all I could manage to say. What was he doing here at three A.M.?
“I wanted to make sure you made it home safely,” he said, as if answering my silent question.
“Nut. Job,” I mouthed slowly to him.
He laughed, unveiling that beautiful, perfect, white-toothed smile that made his eyes even
when all I wanted to do was start it. I walked past him. “Want to come up for a beer or something?” I unlocked the door and waited for the impact of the rejection.
“Or something.”
I could hear the smirk in his tone.
“Is that a statement or a request?” Ugh, what are you doing? Is this flirting? I silently sighed. Rachel had never been more correct — it had been too long. “Lock the door behind you, please.” I started the two-flight journey to my apartment. We reached my door, and I took a deep breath while I unlocked it. We walked in and I tossed my crap on the table as usual. He closed the door, and I heard the click of the
lock.
“Want some breakfast?” I asked him, walking past the large
sectional in my living room into the kitchen. Nathan followed but stopped in
the dining room and took a quick glance around my place as he leaned against
the wall. “Assuming I will be here for
breakfast?” he asked in a sultry voice full of humor.
Flushed, I popped my head out from behind the fridge door. “Smart ass, I meant now. I’m starving. Yes or no?”
“Sure.” He got dimples when he smiled.
“Can you make some coffee?” I pointed to the pantry closet door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into the pantry. “Pop Tarts? You eat Pop Tarts?” His muffled words became clearer as he walked out, holding coffee in one hand and a box of Pop Tarts in the other. He closed the door with his foot.
breakfast?” he asked in a sultry voice full of humor.
Flushed, I popped my head out from behind the fridge door. “Smart ass, I meant now. I’m starving. Yes or no?”
“Sure.” He got dimples when he smiled.
“Can you make some coffee?” I pointed to the pantry closet door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into the pantry. “Pop Tarts? You eat Pop Tarts?” His muffled words became clearer as he walked out, holding coffee in one hand and a box of Pop Tarts in the other. He closed the door with his foot.
“I enjoy a good Pop Tart.” I pouted, crinkling my eyebrows.
“Seriously? Strawberry? I thought you said you enjoyed a good Pop Tart.” He eyed me suspiciously.
“Shut up — it’s the sprinkles. They make me happy.” I quickly looked back down to the pan, trying not to stare at his amazing blue eyes.
“Seriously? Strawberry? I thought you said you enjoyed a good Pop Tart.” He eyed me suspiciously.
“Shut up — it’s the sprinkles. They make me happy.” I quickly looked back down to the pan, trying not to stare at his amazing blue eyes.
“Do you know what these are made of?” He sounded appalled, as if I
were eating a cockroach instead of an artificial pastry.
“No, please enlighten me.” I noticed my cheeks hurt because I had been smiling for the past five minutes.
“All right, sassy pants, I will.” He was attempting to be serious, but began to laugh while he poured water into the coffee maker.
“C’mon educate me, I need a good schooling, and have you ever made coffee before?” I playfully grabbed the coffee from his hands, swiftly dumped four scoops into the top of the machine, closed the lid, and pressed the start button.
“Impressive.” He hopped onto the counter holding the box of Pop Tarts again, watching me. “It’s a sugar coma is what it is. I can’t explain it. I just know anything that has a shelf life of fourteen years and is still edible after a nuclear winter can’t be good for you.” He held his head high and tightened his lips as if he was triumphant in convincing me.
I stared blankly at him, trying my damnedest not to laugh, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me as they tightened. We both burst out in laughter.
“Really? That’s all you got?” I snatched the box from his hands and put it back on the counter. “Like I said, it’s all about the sprinkles, so if there is in fact a nuclear winter, at least I’ll be happy.” I tossed him a loaf of bread.
“Can you make toast?”
“Can I make toast?” He hopped off the counter. “Of course I can make
toast.”
When I turned to look at him he was standing at the toaster with a confused look on his face.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
My mouth popped open wide in shock and he laughed.
“Gotcha.” He winked, pushing down the lever.
Oh my, no no no. I won’t survive this night if he keeps shit like that up.
“No, please enlighten me.” I noticed my cheeks hurt because I had been smiling for the past five minutes.
“All right, sassy pants, I will.” He was attempting to be serious, but began to laugh while he poured water into the coffee maker.
“C’mon educate me, I need a good schooling, and have you ever made coffee before?” I playfully grabbed the coffee from his hands, swiftly dumped four scoops into the top of the machine, closed the lid, and pressed the start button.
“Impressive.” He hopped onto the counter holding the box of Pop Tarts again, watching me. “It’s a sugar coma is what it is. I can’t explain it. I just know anything that has a shelf life of fourteen years and is still edible after a nuclear winter can’t be good for you.” He held his head high and tightened his lips as if he was triumphant in convincing me.
I stared blankly at him, trying my damnedest not to laugh, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me as they tightened. We both burst out in laughter.
“Really? That’s all you got?” I snatched the box from his hands and put it back on the counter. “Like I said, it’s all about the sprinkles, so if there is in fact a nuclear winter, at least I’ll be happy.” I tossed him a loaf of bread.
“Can you make toast?”
“Can I make toast?” He hopped off the counter. “Of course I can make
toast.”
When I turned to look at him he was standing at the toaster with a confused look on his face.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
My mouth popped open wide in shock and he laughed.
“Gotcha.” He winked, pushing down the lever.
Oh my, no no no. I won’t survive this night if he keeps shit like that up.
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About H.J.
HJ is just a Jersey girl surviving inthe good ol' South. She's a fan of sunglasses, good coffee, original stories, her pets and laughing with friends. Most importantly, she's loves being a mother to her beautiful daughter.
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