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May 28, 2016

The Contract by Melanie Moreland

The Contract
The Contract
by Melanie Moreland

What do you do when the one person you hate the most becomes the one person you can’t live without?

A tyrant by day, a playboy by night. That is the reputation that precedes Richard VanRyan. He lives life the way he wants, no concern for the opinion of others. He cares for no one, is completely unrepentant, and he has no desire to change his ways.

Katharine Elliott works under Richard as his PA. She despises him and his questionable ethics, but endures all the garbage he sends her way, because she needs the job. Her end goal is far more important than the daily abuse and demands she tolerates from her nasty tyrant of a boss.

Until the day, he asks her for something she never expected. A new role with a personal contract — fiancée instead of PA.

What happens when two people who loathe each other, have to live together and act as though they are madly in love? Sparks. That’s what happens.

Can the power of love really change a person? Will they survive the contract?

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Content/Theme(s): Workplace, Office
Release Date: May 24, 2016
Enchanted Publications
Excerpt & More

Purchase link(s):  Amazon   iTunes   Kobo   B&N
She didn’t say a word during the tour. I showed her the guest rooms, the den, and the private gym located at the other end of the condo on the main level. Upstairs, she was decidedly nervous when I showed her the master bedroom.

I indicated the guest room across the hall. “That one has a private en suite. I assume you’d like that room.”

Her shoulders seemed to loosen. “You don’t, ah . . .”

“I don’t what?”

“You don’t expect me to sleep in your room,” she stated, sounding relieved.

I smirked at her uncertainty. “Miss Elliott, this is a business arrangement. Outside these walls, we will appear as a couple. We’ll hold hands, stay close, do whatever other couples do who are in love.” I waved my hand in the air. “In here, we are real. You have your space; I have mine. I won’t bother you. I expect nothing from you.” I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped. “You didn’t really think I’d want to sleep with you, did you?”

Her head snapped up, and she glared at me. “No more than I’d want to sleep with you, Mr. VanRyan.” Turning on her heel, she marched down the hall, her footsteps small thumps on the hardwood floor.

I followed her, still smirking. When we reached the living room, she whirled around, her eyes flashing.

“You asked me to do this, Mr. VanRyan. Not the other way around.”

“You agreed.”

She crossed her arms, anger pouring off her body. “I’m doing this, because at the moment, I have no other choice. Your decisions have directly affected my life, and I’m trying to keep up. I hate lying, and I’m not a good actress.”

“What are you saying?”

“If you’re not even going to attempt to be polite, or at least be a decent human being, this isn’t going to work. I can’t turn off my emotions that quickly.”

I pulled on my stubborn cowlick in vexation. “What do you want from me, Miss Elliott?”

“Could we not at least try to get along? Surely we can find something we have in common and engage in a conversation without your veiled insults and holier-than-thou attitude.”

A grin tugged at my lips. I was catching another glimpse of the backbone in Miss Elliott.

I tilted my head. “I apologize. I’ll try to do better. Is there anything else you want since we’re putting everything on the table?”

She hesitated, her fingers worrying the ugly shirt she wore.

“Spit it out.”

“You can’t, um, you can’t mess around while we’re doing . . . while we’re together.”

“Mess around?”

She looked everywhere but at me. “You can’t sleep with other women. I won’t be humiliated like that.”

“So what you’re saying is: I can’t fuck anyone?”

Her cheeks were so red I thought her head would explode; however, she straightened her shoulders and looked right at me. “Yes.”

This was too fun for me.

“Yes, I can fuck around?”


“No fucking,” I enunciated the last word.


“You expect me to remain celibate the whole time?” I asked, now incredulous.

“I will be, so I expect you to do the same.”

I snorted. “I doubt it’s anything new for you.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s it. You want to fuck someone? Go fuck yourself, VanRyan.”

I gaped at her retreating figure as she grabbed her coat and stormed to the door.

Like the idiot I was, I chased after her—for the second time.
Purchase link(s):  Amazon   iTunes   Kobo   B&N
Other titles by Melanie Moreland:
the Scars
the Fence
The Storm
Find Moreland at:
Twitter: @MorelandMelanie
Melanie Moreland Facebook page
Melanie Moreland Goodreads author page
Melanie Moreland Amazon author page
More Melanie Moreland on Cover Reveals

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