Excerpt for Flip the Beat by , available in its entirety at Smashwords


Molly Ivers thought she found Prince Charming, but without a devilishly sexy accent, and six months ago she gave into their undeniable attraction. But the swarm of ever-present groupies was so not part of the fairy tale. As much as it hurt her heart, she shut out rocker Evan Castle.

Now, on the verge of finishing her graduate degree and moving to Paris—she even hires a French life coach—Molly begins to realize Evan, who hasn't given up on her, might be the man of her dreams after all.


Roxanne D. Howard

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.


Copyright © 2018 Haley Cavanagh

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-948029-29-2

E-book formatting by Maureen Cutajar

For Tonya, Amanda and Mindy, who would always let me play Cinderella.


A special thanks to my dear friend, Brandy Dixon for her invaluable beta reading and keen eye.

To the management at Boroughs Publishing, thank you for giving this fun story a home.

I’m especially grateful for Ann Curtis, who as always has a gift for chiseling the shape from the roughly hewn wood.

To my editor, it was a pleasure working with you on this. Thank you for all your insight and waving your magic red wand like a pixie over the manuscript.



Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven



Six months ago

Molly sucked in a breath as the man trailed hot, openmouthed kisses along the length of her neck. He pressed her against the sofa, his hand supporting the small of her back. His hard length nudged the apex of her thighs. She spread her legs, and his cock pressed against her. He’d moved in last week and had come from his apartment downstairs a half hour ago—what had he asked for again? But one thing had led to another, and she was now in her bra and panties.

“This is crazy. I barely know you,” she whispered.

He lifted his muscular chest off her. Strands of dark blond hair fell into his striking face. He had a smooth, angular jawline, a perfect nose, and full, sensual lips. He hovered naked above her, his clothes discarded on the floor. His hazel eyes met hers with concern.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it when I kissed you. You’re so beautiful, Molly.” He traced his finger down her cheek. “I can stop if you want. But you need to tell me now.”

Molly blinked. She knew she should end it. She didn’t make hasty, irrational decisions, and this one would be a doozy. But since she’d met him the other day, her body came alive each time she passed him in the hallway. No one affected her like Evan, and she wanted him. Bad. If it was going to happen, she needed to give in to it. She slid her arms around his shoulders and hooked her ankle around the back of his calf. “No, I don’t want you to stop. I just… I need to tell you something.”

He took her hand and kissed the top of it reassuringly. “Okay.”

“Evan.” She pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, “I’m a virgin.”

Chapter One

Present day

“Ivers, you’re on.”

Professor Sullivan’s pleasant English accent pulled Molly from her reverie. She’d tried not to dwell on her breakup with Sean last night. She made her way through the auditorium aisle and kept her eyes glued to the podium. As she passed Professor Sullivan, who headed her thesis committee, she once again regretted all the times she should’ve made a move. Time had passed, though; he had a girlfriend, and Molly was due to get her master’s in anthropology, with a minor in art history, and move to Paris. Sixty-two days, four hours, and thirty-nine minutes, but who’s counting?

She could easily stay in Detroit and use her degree in a cushy job downtown. But she’d much prefer to dig new roots and work as an intern in the research department of the Musée d’Orsay. Her French wasn’t perfect but passable enough. The internship was a two-month stint in Paris—unpaid, but the opportunity of a lifetime. If Molly decided to come back to Detroit after it was over, her apartment and job were secured.

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