Madison O'Donnell whole-heartedly believes she's going to
die on her next birthday. She had her first stoke when
she was fifteen, which is around the same age her father
had his first one. Because of that, Madison is convinced
that she will continue to follow in her father's footsteps
and die when she turns twenty-eight, the same age her
father was when he died. With only fifteen days till the
frightful day, Madison has a lot of living to cram into
her life, including falling madly in love.
Tax accountant T. Laurence Hobbs cannot believe it when he
overhears his secretary make a date with a complete
stranger. A man who dialed the wrong number! He's
determined to save her from a man who could potentially be
a serial killer, even if it means making her fall in love
with him instead. Chasing after Madison is wrecking havoc
with T. Laurence's life plan though. She's not anything
like the woman he imagined would become Mrs. T. Laurence
Hobbs but she's perfect for him. Will fifteen days be
enough to convince her he's the man for her and she should
forget about dying and take a chance on happily ever
after?
Jennifer Skully's DROP DEAD GORGEOUS is a funny and
emotional romantic comedy with a touch of suspense to it.
Madison is a wonderful heroine who will keep you laughing
and glued to the pages. T. Laurence may not be your
typical hero with his balding head, but before you know
it, he'll have you falling in love with him. With office
drama that'll have you rethinking a career in accounting
and enough suspense to keep you on your toes, I guarantee
you'll be adding this book to your keeper shelf.
Certain that she will depart this world at the tender age
of twenty-eight, Madison O'Donnell is determined to
experience breathless, passionate love in the two weeks
left to her, no thanks to her stuffy boss, T. Laurence
Hobbs!
T. Laurence is the perfect tax accountant, a man who likes
his ducks in a row and his numbers in a column. But there
is no way he will sit by while the lovely Madison throws
herself at the absolute wrong man.
If the only way to save Madison from herself is to make
her fall madly in love with him, then it's up to T.
Laurence to make it happen. And as he turns his number-
crunching skills to capturing his sexy secretary, he's
beginning to think that there is more to life than death
and taxes!
Excerpt
MADISON O'DONNELL loved a lot of things. Chocolate
peanut butter cups and hot dogs with extra mustard. The
treasures she found on her once-a-month rounds of the
Saturday garage sales with her mother. A good mystery, a
great romance and erotic videos. She loved telling clients
she'd cut her boss into pieces and stuffed his body parts
into the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet. It made them
smile, and goodness knew people needed a smile when faced
with a tax consultation early in the morning. Madison
loved to make people smile. She loved her wavy titian
hair — the word red would simply never do. She loved her
three older brothers, her mother and her mother's sugar-n-
lemon pancakes.
Yes, Madison "loved," but she'd never been "in love," and
falling in love was something she absolutely had to do
before she turned twenty-eight. Which meant she had only
fifteen days left to achieve that nearly impossible goal
before it was too late.
But fall in love with whom? After pondering the question
the entire day, Madison still hadn't a clue.
T. Laurence Hobbs, her staid yet adorable boss, entered
her cube, and blew her musings to the winds. On the other
side of her cubicle, fingers tapped ditties on keyboards
and ten-key adding machines and the low rumble of voices
drifted through the six-foot partitions. The phone rang on
the desk in front of her. T. Larry — a nickname she loved
and he'd endured with long-suffering sighs over the seven
years he'd employed her — harrumphed when her hand went
automatically to the receiver. Choosing the phone over
him, Madison swung her chair, put her back to him and
answered with a chipper smile.
"Carpal, Tunnel and Syndrome. Mr. Hobbs's office." Spoken
fast and slurred, the client wouldn't understand the play
on words, which should have been Carp, Alta and Hobbs,
CPAs. T. Larry would know, though. His frown jabbed her
between the shoulder blades, and her smile widened. She
loved teasing him.
"Hey, beautiful, what are you doing?"
She didn't recognize the voice on the other end, but
hanging up on anyone calling her beautiful was
inconceivable. A nice voice, sexy, deep. The perfect voice
for phone sex lite. Who was it? She could have asked, but
relished figuring out his identity on her own.
Hoping for a clue, she said, "Just waiting for your call."
At her back, T. Larry puffed like a fire-breathing dragon.
"What are you wearing?"
Jim? He'd always wanted to know the color of her panties.
Though he'd never asked over the phone. Ooh.
"Something red and lacy."
T. Larry broke into a spasm of coughing, recovering before
she had to turn around and pound his back.
"You're driving me crazy, how was your day, did you think
of me?" was said as one purring sentence, as if her
mystery man had only one thought on his mind.
Not Jim, the voice was too tempting. Not Matthew, either,
since he'd broken it off at the beginning of May, over a
month ago. Unless he'd decided he'd made a mistake. She
was willing to forgive just to find out if she could have
fallen in love with him given more time. Hmm, what was the
best way to play this? "I can't say I did think of you
today."
"I'm wounded. Make it up to me by having dinner with me."
A touch of laughter laced the deep voice. Matthew, for
sure. He had a quirky sense of humor, a thick skin, and it
was just like him to forget he'd snapped her in two like a
twig.
It had taken her a whole day to get over it. Still, "Don't
you think we ought to talk about what happened first?"
T. Larry cleared his throat, then his arm slid into her
line of sight, the finger of his other hand tapping the
face of his watch. Five minutes to five, she was still on
his time.
Matthew went on. "Let's talk about it over champagne and
veal picatta."
Veal? She couldn't bear to think about those poor calves
stuck in pens and slaughtered like... Madison shoved T.
Larry's arm away. "I'd love to have dinner, but I've got
to catch the 5:20 train home, and my brother Patrick's
picking me up —"
"Your brother?"
" — and it's too late to tell him I won't be on it."
Besides, she shouldn't have dinner with her former beau at
all without first discussing that goodbye. "So call me
tonight, Matthew."
"Matthew?" A quizzical tone, probably raised eyebrows,
too. Oops, she'd put her foot in it. She was always doing
that. "My name's not Matthew. Is this Kim?"
With only fifteen days left until her birthday, she was
beyond the usual embarrassment. "I'm Madison."
He laughed, a lovely full laugh that must have come
straight from his belly. "I'm really sorry. I thought —"
"And I thought —"
"So what are you doing tonight?" A deep breath, a smile
still in his wonderful voice. "How about dinner?"
Madison laughed with him. "You don't even know me."
"You're Madison. I'm Richard."
"Nice to meet you, Richard, but I still can't have dinner
with you tonight."
"I know. Your brother's picking you up from the 5:20
train."
T. Larry knocked the back of her chair with his knee. She
waved a dismissive hand and plugged a finger in her ear.
"How about tomorrow?" Richard pushed.
Friday. She was free. He really did have an amazing voice.
Madison was never one to dismiss coincidence. Coincidence
was destiny patting you on the back. Especially with her
birthday bearing down like an avalanche. Twenty-eight.
What if she never knew what it was like to fall in love?
What if Richard was The One, her destiny?
"Okay, I'll have dinner with you tomorrow." She bit her
lip to keep the excitement from bubbling over. "But no
veal." Then she told him what she looked like so the man
of her dreams could recognize her across a crowded
restaurant.
GOOD GOD. Laurence adjusted his glasses. Madison O'Donnell
had just told a complete stranger the color and texture of
her underwear. With the whole office listening on the
other side of her cubicle walls. Then she'd made a date
with the man.
Unbelievable. Unimaginable. But then Madison always did
and said the unthinkable. She wasn't quite...normal.
Yet T. Laurence Hobbs found himself hopelessly fascinated.
Of course, he'd never act on it. She was his secretary,
and as such, she deserved better than office ogling or
unwanted advances. Besides, he was ten years her senior in
actual years and probably twenty in demeanor. No one had
ever called Laurence young at heart. Not even when he was
young. On the other hand, the term had been coined for
Madison. He couldn't hope to keep up with a woman like
her. She would exhaust an Olympiad.
She smiled sweetly then, replaced the receiver and turned
to him, all even white teeth and red lips. "That wasn't
Matthew."
"I gathered." He'd heard about Matthew, who'd dumped her
for a blonde with at least six inches on Madison's five-
foot-two and two additional letters in bra size. He'd seen
the woman, and Madison was mouthwatering in comparison.
He caught himself before he accidentally ogled and steamed
up his glasses or offended Madison.
She began shutting down her computer. Two minutes to five,
she always left on the dot, her train wouldn't wait. She
was ever conscientious about not keeping her brothers
waiting, a trait Laurence admired.
"His name is Richard," Madison said, flipping off the desk
lamp. "He mistook my voice for someone named Kim."
"I gathered that, too."
She stopped in mid-mouse stroke and settled her brilliant
green gaze on him. "Is that a note of displeasure? I'll
stay five minutes extra tomorrow night to make up for the
call."
She'd have time, too, since she was meeting Richard at six
o'clock in a nearby restaurant — Laurence had eavesdropped
on the entire call. It wasn't the five minutes that
bothered him. "What would your brothers say if they knew
you were having dinner with a man you've never met? Not to
mention your mother?"
"They'd say I was sensible for choosing a public place."
Madison always had an answer.
"They'd be appalled you didn't even ask his last name."
She tilted her head, giving his comment consideration. "I
suppose I should have asked. I could have Googled him."
Then she flashed a smile. "But a little mystery is much
more exciting."
"It's foolhardy."
She turned back to the computer. "Girls just want to have
fun, T. Larry."
He'd realized one month after hiring her that she'd never
call him Laurence like a normal person. He'd gotten over
it. He hadn't, however, gotten over her perky attitude
that never wore down. Someone had probably gotten the idea
for the Energizer Bunny Rabbit while observing Madison.
"You can't go out with strangers just because it's fun."
The thought of Madison alone at the mercy of some maniac
parched his throat.
The men she chose to date — which she was never shy to
talk about — were frightful. Fickle Matthew, interested-in-
only-one-thing Jim and a host of others with equally
unappealing qualities, none of whom were worthy of her
radiance. She needed someone stable, responsible, someone
older, with worldly experience. Fun should be the lowest
on the list of traits one looked for.
She pointed her mechanical pencil at him. "You need to
learn how to have fun. Maybe along the way, you'll even
find the future Mrs. Hobbs."
He was abruptly aware of thin cubicle walls. They didn't
dampen an iota of sound. No one, except Madison, left
Carp, Alta and Hobbs at five o'clock. There were always
audits to perform, tax forms to prepare and clients to
advise. That meant every one of his thirteen staff members
not at a client's — he hoped they were all creating
billable hours — could hear this suddenly delicate
conversation.
The inside office area was one large space separated into
smaller cubes by the cloth and pressboard dividers while
the manager and partner offices ringed the bull pen.
Laurence considered directing Madison into his office a
few short paces along the hall as around them collective
breaths held and ears tensed. Phone ringers went dead and
cell phone chatter ceased.
Dragging his secretary into his office at the end of the
workday was not an option. Madison's reputation was of the
utmost importance.
Laurence lowered his voice. "I know how to have fun. And
I'm doing quite well in my search for the future Mrs.
Hobbs, thank you very much."
Opening the bottom drawer of her desk, Madison hauled out
an immense purse, perched it on her lap and rummaged. "If
you're doing so well, why hasn't Alison called for two
weeks?"
"Alison didn't —" Why was he letting her get away with an
invasion of his private life? He didn't need to explain
that Alison was consistently tardy for dates by at least
half an hour. He wanted a wife who would teach his
children good manners. He'd dated semi-regularly, looking
for the right woman. He'd even had a few fairly serious
relationships, but for some reason, he hadn't been quite
ready for marriage to any of them. Maybe Madison was on to
something. He wasn't searching as earnestly as he should
be. There was always one more step in his career to take
or one trait he couldn't accept in a woman. But those
musings were for another time.
"We were talking about you and...Richard." The man should
shorten it to Dick. That would suit him better. "Meeting
someone like this is dangerous."
Hands still inside the purse, Madison cocked her head to
stare up at him. "It's not like I'm going to sleep with
him."
Thank God, he thought, until her next revelation. "I'm
going to marry him."
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