Release Blitz

[RELEASE PROMOTION] Legally Bound by Golden Angel

 

 





 

 



โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ














๐™๐™๐™š๐™ž๐™ง ๐™™๐™š๐™จ๐™ž๐™ง๐™š ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™ก, ๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™ฉ’๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™ž๐™–๐™กโ€ฆ


๐˜ˆ๐˜ง๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜‹๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ด, ๐˜๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฅ๐˜บ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜Š๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜บ. ๐˜š๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฅ๐˜บ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ. ๐˜‰๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ฃ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฑ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต: ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ข ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด. 


๐˜“๐˜ฆ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด’ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ต, ๐˜๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฅ๐˜บ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜Š๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด. ๐˜—๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜บ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ-๐˜ฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜จ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ณ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜Š๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ’๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ฃ ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ? 










โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ








 









โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ













Camille


Today was going to be terrible.

Her year had ended pretty well, and if she counted those early hours of the morning with Freddy, then it had started out pretty great, but everything had been pretty much downhill from there.

Yesterdayโ€™s visit with her mom had been fine too, actually. It was work that had frustrated her. Going through the Alexanderโ€™s prenup with a fine-tooth comb had given her a headache. Whoever had given the Alexanders the advice to sign it had been a total hack. More than one section was unclear.

Granted, things could go either way, but she wasnโ€™t sure it would go Mrs. Alexanderโ€™s way, even though she was likely the more deserving party.

Youโ€™re not supposed to be thinking that way. Mr. Alexander is your client, not her. Youโ€™re supposed to be saving him as much money as possibleโ€ฆ so that he can pay it all to Donaldson and some of it will come to you.

Right.

Sometimes, she felt like this job was sucking the soul right out of her body.

At least she had something to look forward to for the end of the day. Her reward to herself for getting through this afternoon was calling Freddy. During her lunch hour, sheโ€™d also sent in the application for membership to Stronghold and Marquis. In some small way, she was claiming some of herself back.

โ€œUgh, this is going to be such a waste of time.โ€ Nicholas Alexander III, all six feet of him, was slouched in one of the conference room chairs. At first glance, he was handsome enough. In his late forties, he still kept himself in shape. He had dark brown eyes and matching dark brown hair sprinkled with just a touch of salt. At second glance, it was impossible to miss the petulant set of his mouth and the arrogant unhappiness emanating from him like a bad smell.

Well, it was impossible for her to miss. She knew Rachel, the receptionist who had escorted him into the conference room, hadnโ€™t noticed his flaws. She had been all smiles and giggles as Mr. Alexander smirked and flirted with her.

Thankfully, he didnโ€™t try that with Camille.

โ€œDo you want me to call the meeting off?โ€ she asked. Mrs. Alexander was due any minute, along with her counsel from Addison, Oโ€™Shane, and Smith, and Alfred Johan. AOS, as they were known, had a reputation for representing women like Mrs. Alexander, who had ended up married to rich assholes who didnโ€™t want to pay their alimony.

They made a lot of money making those rich assholes pay out the ass.

Personally, Camille would like to see nothing more. Professionally, it was her job to thwart their intentions. According to him, she was supposed to keep him from having to pay anything at all, which was why they were going to court.

She was pretty sure heโ€™d hoped Mrs. Alexander wouldnโ€™t be able to find representation or that sheโ€™d decide it wasnโ€™t worth going to court and would just quietly go on her way. Camille had tried to explain to him that wasnโ€™t going to happen as soon as she knew who Mrs. Alexanderโ€™s representation was, but Mr. Alexander had dug in his heels, and now here they were.

Which meant trying her best, knowing if she succeeded, she was going to screw some poor woman out of money she was rightfully owed, or her own client, and therefore, her firm, were going to be unhappy with her. This morning, sheโ€™d figured out the reason the partners had passed Mr. Alexander off to her. They knew the chances of winning were fifty-fifty, and they didnโ€™t want him unhappy with any of them.

Worried it would ruin their golf game or something.

โ€œNo,โ€ Mr. Alexander said after a long minute, straightening in his seat and tugging his suit jacket down so he didnโ€™t look so rumpled. โ€œNo, Iโ€™m not going to let that bitch get her hands on any of my money. Not when sheโ€™s trying to fucking leave me.โ€

Camille really hoped Mrs. Alexander actually was a bitch. Then she wouldnโ€™t feel so bad about having to represent this asshole. She didnโ€™t bother to point out the reason his wife would get his money was because of the prenup heโ€™d signed.

There was a knock on the door before she could respond. It opened and Rachel smiled as she walked in. The knock had just been to give them a quick heads up that the other side had arrived.

โ€œRight this way. Ms. Sinclair and Mr. Alexander are waiting for you.โ€

To Rachelโ€™s credit, she didnโ€™t give Mr. Alexander one of her simpering smiles. She just stepped out of the way to let the people behind her walk in.

Halfway to getting to her feet, while Mr. Alexander rudely remained seated beside her, Camille froze when she saw who was walking through the door.


Freddy.







โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ













Read the FIRST CHAPTER today!





โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ

 

 

 

 

 


Jen-2

Golden Angel is a USA Today best-selling author and self-described bibliophile with a “kinky” bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn’t get them out, she’s pretty sure she’d go just a little crazy.

She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.

When she’s not writing, she can often be found on the couch reading, in front of her sewing machine making a new cosplay, hanging out with her friends, or wandering the Maryland Renaissance Fair.


84faf-website 481e5-facebook  1a806-instagram goodreads  ed575-newsletter

868e4-twitter bookbubTikTok-2 

 

 




โ™ฆ โ™ฆ โ™ฆ




 

 

 

 

TNS CONNECT WITH HTML

website gold facebook gold twitter gold instagram gold gold label_newsletter Pinterest gold youtube gold

MASTER LIST - JOIN OUR TEAM

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.