He's a flawed perfectionist...
I can read women better than any blueprint. I understand their thoughts and feelings, their secret desires and insecurities, and I know how to get rid of them once I get off.
But all bets are off when Tiel Desai slams into my life. She redefines what it means to be friends, and she makes it sound like the filthiest thing I've ever heard.
I can't read the gorgeous conservatory-trained violinist, but she's the only one keeping me from shattering by small degrees, and I can't let her go.
She's wildly independent...
My past--and New Jersey--are far behind me, and now my life is blissfully full of music: playing, teaching, and lecturing, and scouring Boston's underground scene with an annoyingly beautiful, troubled, tattooed architect.
I'm defenseless against his rooftop kisses, our nearly naked dance parties, the snuggletimes that turn into sexytimes, and his deep, demanding voice.
I have Sam Walsh stuck in my head like a song on repeat, and I'm happy pretending history won't catch up with me.
The one thing they have in common is a rock-solid disregard for the rules.
They find more in each other than they ever realized they were missing, but they might have to fall apart before they can come together.
It's the wrongs that make the rights come to life.
Kate Canterbary doesn't have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean--Pacific or Atlantic--is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people--be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane--ever since. Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn't writing sexy architects, she's scheduling her days around the region's best food trucks.