’ll do whatever it takes to close this case...even corrupt an innocent like Ivy...
Jameson - Six months deep undercover and I’ve almost forgotten I’m a cop. To take down this drug ring, I need an informant...one I can force to give me what I need. Someone like Ivy, a good girl from a bad family who needs to keep her brother out of jail. She’s meant to be just an asset. Disposable. But when I’m around her…I’m not thinking like a cop.
I’m not thinking at all.
Ivy – I don’t have a choice. It’s work with a cop or see my brother behind bars. But Jameson’s more criminal than cop, more bad than good. The second we meet, there’s a chemistry between us that we can’t fight. I keep telling myself he’s the enemy but I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my body. We’re both in too deep...but falling for each other could be fatal.
This is a full-length novel with a bonus chapter of another book by Alexx Andria. AGAINST THE WALL is based upon an original short story by USA TODAY bestselling author Alexx Andria, BAD BOY WITH A BADGE. No cliff-hangers! Warning: you might just find your new obsession!
This scene is important because I like to show my characters struggling with everyday challenges that we all do.
Even when I put my characters into impossible situations or highly improbable, I always make sure to put that pinch of realism in there to keep things grounded.
I like writing about ordinary people, people like you and me, living in their world as they always have, making choices (not always good ones) and living with those choices.
Ivy works at a crappy diner where she's not appreciated and harassed daily by the patrons. This is a challenge facing many women just trying to make ends meet.
I guess this is my homage to those hard-working women who do what needs to be done, even if it's in less-than-healthy environments.
Book Excerpt
Against The Wall
The funny thing about your world slowly crumbling apart is that life still goes on. For everyone else. Including the people who expect you to clock in for your shift at the crappy diner where you work. “You’re late, princess,” barked Marg, my manager. She lived to mock me but I let it slide because I knew that I needed this job, no matter how much it ate into my soul. “You’re on toilet detail today.” “Fabulous,” I muttered, grabbing the plunger to remedy whatever nightmare a customer had left behind. Marg smirked as I bit my tongue and pushed open the bathroom door. Thankfully, I wasn’t squeamish. Or if I had been, this job would’ve beat it out of me. I made short, efficient work of fixing the toilet, wiped everything down, washed my hands (like, a thousand times) and then returned to the floor where Marg was flirting with Jose in the kitchen, leaving me and Roxy to wait the tables. The diner was a run-down ‘50s era themed craphole and our costume was a short, pink mini-skirt and an even tighter pink top that was tied in the front. It was degrading, ridiculous, and offensive. And yet…we were told often enough that we were lucky to have the job. The worst part…Marg was right. Times were tough. Jobs were hard to come by for people without much education and paltry experience out in the work field. I won’t lie, college hadn’t been my goal, so I hadn’t pinned my hopes on landing a good one. But my dream of becoming a dancer had never fully died. Classical, jazz, tap, even swing…I loved it all. The beauty of movement filled my soul with light. But it didn’t pay the bills. Reality was ugly when the electricity was turned off for nonpayment. So I continued to work at Mamie’s Diner.
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