BLURB
Professor Brad Henry has the attention of every woman at Oakdale University. His salt and pepper hair accents his baby blue eyes, but the professor only has eyes for his student, Katie Coleman, who is half his age. The professor cannot help himself from giving Katie the teaching assistant position for his history class, even though she is wholly underqualified, in order to get guaranteed alone time with her. What the professor does not know is Katie is not the innocent girl he thinks she is, and she has a few tricks up her skirt.
EXCERPT:
The campus is full of people returning to the dorms to start a new semester. It’s my favorite time of year—when everything is fresh and new. Coming back to school means football games and parties, leaves changing colors, and hot apple cider. It’s meeting new teachers and making new friends. And, as a junior, I’m only four semesters away from graduating. The closer it gets, the more excited—and more apprehensive—I become.
Nothing can dim my smile as I carry my last box of belongings into the building I’ll be living in this year. Junior year also means living in one of the upperclassmen dorms, something it feels like I’ve been waiting forever for. The upperclassmen dorms have better parties, fewer rules, and bigger rooms. Living in the underclassmen dorms the past two years was like being crammed in a sardine can. Yes, I still only had one roommate, but there was only about two feet of space between our beds. Okay, maybe that’s a small exaggeration, but it wasn’t much more than that.
Even the common areas in those dorms were smaller. It’s the first thing I noticed when I walked into Clayton Hall. Instead of the small living space with barely enough room for one sofa and a chair, this one has two sofas and multiple comfortable-looking chairs spread around the room. There’s also a reading nook off to one side, with a chaise and three bookshelves stuffed full of all sorts of books.
The kitchen area is bigger too, with an oven on either end and dual sinks and refrigerators. It looks freshly updated, unlike the very dated kitchen in Myers Hall last year.
Just as I use my hip to shut the door to my door room, my phone pings with a text. I drop the box of my favorite books on the bed I’ve chosen as mine since my roommate isn’t here yet and pull my phone out of my pocket to see who could possibly be texting right now.The text isn’t from any of the friends I’m hoping to meet up with this week before classes start, or from my mom to see if I’ve managed to settle in yet. It’s just a simple welcome back from the university. My grin stretches across my face almost painfully as I hug the phone to my chest. I can’t wait to see what happens this year!
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