Page 22 of Sweeter

“What a time to be alive.”

The End

Acknowledgements

Huge thanks to Tessa Bailey and Alexa Riley for bringing me onto the Read Me Romance Podcast and giving me a chance to write Sweeter. The sugar baby/tech bro romance was an idea I’d had in the pipeline for a little while, but which I never imagined could be such a fun, punchy little novella.

Massive thanks to Sarahjess, an amazing friend and artist who made the only necklace I wear (proof on the ‘Gram) and whose ceramics continually blow my mind. Thanks for allowing me to essentially carjack your identity to make the character of Marley and for helping me understand the finer points of kiln firing. Big ups to Kole and Jessica Cale who helped with the editing and proofing of the novella and for being such cool individuals in general. Kisses for my Willsperation, a smart guy who’s bored of everything, until he isn’t. May you never get your knighthood (fuck the monarchy) but may you always, always be happy and loved.

About Eve Dangerfield

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels since she first started swiping her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own tales about complex women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Eve lives in Melbourne and when she's not writing, she can usually be found jugging a beer, her phone and an argument about how hot chips are shit. Sign up for her cheerfully bonkers newsletter Living Dangerfieldy atwww.evedangerfield.com

Eve Dangerfield hath various social media accounts

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Eve Dangerfield hath written other books

So Wild: Silver Daughters Ink Book One

So Steady: Silver Daughters Ink Book Two

Act Your Age

Degrees of Control

Locked Box

Captivated (co-authored with Tessa Bailey)

Taunt

Open Hearts

Something Borrowed

Something Else

Dysfunctional

Paying For It

Sweetest

by Eve Dangerfield

Chapter 1

Marley

I peek out from behind the chiffon curtain and study the crowd. They look good.Too good. I’m used to sweat patches and cowboy boots at my exhibitions. Exposed bra straps. Children tugging at their mom’s hands, pleading for ice cream while their forebearers examine my earrings with the utmost skepticism.

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