Welcome to our third week of celebrations for the fabulous
In today's post, we're going to take a look at the Spencer Cohen series, as well as Blood And Milk. Nic is also going to share how she started writing. Plus, all the way at the bottom, we will have another chance to win one of her books.
First up, Spencer Cohen 1
Spencer Cohen is the guy who gets answers to relationship questions. Playing the role of the new lover, his job is to make his client’s ex realise one of two things: he doesn’t want to break up or he really does. Either way, his client gets answers.
The ex would either apologize and beg, or turn and walk. But in the end, Spencer’s client won. If he wanted his ex back and got him, it was great. If the guy walked away, then as hard it was for the client, he knew it was over. Regardless of the outcome, Spencer’s work was done.
Andrew Landon’s ex left him without so much as an explanation. But his sister can’t stand to see him miserable, so, much to Andrew’s dismay, they hire Spencer to be Andrew’s new boyfriend to get the ex back.
For Spencer, it is never personal. Merely a business transaction. No emotions, no strings, no complications.
Even a blind man could see how this would end.
Then I realised his piano was just sitting there, all neglected and unplayed, and I really wanted to hear what he could do. “Would you play me something on your piano?”
Andrew’s eyes shot to mine, wide and shocked, as though I’d just asked him to have sex with me. “Um…”
“You don’t have to,” I said, giving him an out.
“Are you sure?”
I scoffed. “Of course I’m sure.” Actually, there wasn’t much else I was sure about. But hearing him play the piano was a definite yes.
“What will I play?”
“First thing you think of.”
He blinked a couple of times, still so unsure, and walked over to the piano. He sat down slowly and put his fingers to the keys. And without another word, he took a deep breath and started to play.
Such a sweet song, with patient, perfectly timed finesse. I’d never heard anything like it.
I didn’t know what the song was called, who wrote it, composed it, nothing. But it stole my breath. It wasn’t just the music. It was the man who made angels sing from his piano. He stole my breath, how his hands moved, how he closed his eyes and got lost in the music, how he coerced the sounds from the piano with his whole body. And when his hands fell to his lap and the last note hung in the air, I couldn’t find the words.
Andrew glanced at me, before he looked back at the piano and he exhaled through puffed out cheeks.
I swallowed down the emotions, the butterflies that swarmed my chest. He was waiting for me to respond, so I told him the God’s honest truth. The best I could manage was a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
He gave me a coy, embarrassed smile. “Don’t you mean heard?”
“Isn’t that what I said?” I asked, confused. My heart was still pounding, an erratic metronome. I was sure I said heard.
Andrew shook his head and smiled down at his hands. “Better than ‘Hallelujah’ by Jeff Buckley?”
I laughed off my embarrassment at my own reaction to him. “Andrew, that was incredible. What song was it?”
“Just something I wrote.”
I scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You wrote that?”
“Just something I wrote.” I mimicked his voice. “No, a grocery list is just something you write, that—that”—I waved my hand at his piano,—“was, my God, Andrew, that was so… incredible.” There just wasn’t another word for it.
The smile he gave me was pure relief and maybe a dash of pride. “Thank you.”
I had to stop myself from walking over and touching him. From putting my hands to his face and kissing him. From taking his hand and leading him upstairs to bed. I wanted to. Fuck, how I wanted to.
And I knew then that I was in over my head.
Somewhere, somehow, I’d let myself cross the line. And I hadn’t just merely stepped over it. Oh no. I’d crossed that line like Usain freakin’ Bolt. And instead of putting a stop to it, instead of stepping back and doing my actual job, my stupid heart went and spoke before my stupid brain.
“Play it again.”
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Second in the series, Spencer Cohen 2
Finally going from fake-boyfriends to the real thing, Spencer Cohen and Andrew Landon are trying to take things slow. They know what they have could be something special and despite the flammable sexual tension, they don’t want to crash and burn.
Spencer is learning to open up, sharing the secrets of his past with Andrew. Afraid to put his heart on the line, yet seemingly unable to stop it, Spencer knows he’s falling in love with him. Andrew is petrified of leaping in blindly, yet it seems the slower they go, the faster they fall.
As they navigate their new relationship, Spencer worries Andrew will freak out when he takes on a new client. But it’s not a normal case and Spencer soon realises things are not what they seem. When things take a downward turn and they work together to help the client, Spencer and Andrew need to decide if they’re ready for the next step.
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Thirdly, Spencer Cohen 3
Learning to be in a committed relationship has been easy for Spencer. In fact, too easy. Andrew has fit into his life seamlessly. Spencer’s let go of his insecurities and hang-ups, and he and Andrew are enjoying where things are headed.
For the first time in years, Spencer’s life is unbelievably perfect. Andrew overthinks everything. So when Spencer gets a phone call from Australia, he’s certain Spencer will push him away.
But instead of driving them apart, maybe it will solidify what they already have. Maybe Spencer will depend on Andrew more than ever. Maybe the Spencer Cohen story will come full circle, and maybe, just maybe, Spencer will have the happily ever after he never thought possible.
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And the final book, Yanni's Story