Text Me

Release date: 4 August 2014
Text MeCarter Coben is having some serious communication problems lately. First he mouthed off to a project manager at work and got fired, now his girlfriend’s dumped him and trashed his cell phone. About the only place he hasn’t got his wires crossed these days is at the anonymous texting app, Justchat.com. Carter thinks he might have found a real connection with “She Hearts Dogs,” but little does he know he’s already quite acquainted with this cunning canine-lover…

When Abigail Jeffries gets a random text message from a stranger saying he’s been dumped, she can’t help but answer it—and recommend he send his ex some flowers from her new shop. When she delivers the bouquet though, she finds out his ex was cheating on him with his best friend—the same best friend she’s impersonating via text! Abby feels guilty, but she can’t help responding. But what will happen when Carter finds out that Abby is not only the face behind the texts, but the reason he got fired at work and his mysterious mutt-loving pal on Justchat.com?

Will they ever manage to sort out their mixed signals, mistaken identities, and misunderstandings to find real love? This BUY NOWmadcap, modern-day You’ve Got Mail for the texting generation will delight romantic comedy fans.

by Shelley K. Wall

Contemporary
Sensuality Level: Behind Closed Doors

Author Bio:
Find Shelley K. Wall at http://shelleykwall.com, on Facebook, and on Twitter @skwallbooks.

 

An excerpt from Text Me:

Abby’s phone signaled a text message from the depths of her purse, lodged under the sales area. She reached behind the ornate filigreed wood of the counter and pulled the phone up to view the message.

She broke up, idiot. Tickets shit idea.

“What is it?” Caroline asked.

Abby shook her head. “Someone apparently has the wrong number.” She held up the screen for her to read.

“So, it’s a text message, not that Justchat app? Jesus, Abby, you need to cut back on the social media.”

“I know, I know. Yes, it’s a text message.”

Caroline squinted at the display. “Oh! Poor guy. He should have bought her flowers.”

Abby grinned. “Yeah, flowers from us. Wait! He still could.”

Caroline flipped a light switch near the door. “Do you even know who that is?”

“No, but judging by the area code, he’s local.” She held the phone up and tapped in a message.

Sorry. U should have bought flowers.

She hovered a finger over the send button, hesitant to deceive the poor guy.

Caroline pressed a finger over hers and the message was gone, sent over the airwaves to a poor schmuck that needed to make good with his girl.

Badeep deep.

Right. What was I thinking? Listened to u, so obviously I wasn’t. Guess I’m still a little chapped about the work thing.

Caroline peered over Abby’s shoulder then yanked the phone away and tapped in a response before handing it back.

Har Har. Still could. New flower shop on main by PD

Abby punched Caroline on the arm and grabbed her purse. “You’re shameless.” She dropped the phone into it and pushed Caroline toward the door. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow, and I really need a shower.”

Caroline pinched her nose. “You are a little ripe. Have you told your family about the store opening? Are they coming?”

“I sent them one of the flyers we mailed out. They know, but they don’t usually have time for these shindigs.”

Abby had managed to hide the disappointment all day, but if they stayed much longer, she was sure to break down. The pain in her leg from her encounter with Ruckus served to muffle the more intense pain in her ego. None of her family had called with well wishes. Not one out of the six. Her new business—her new world—meant nothing to them. They were probably all still mad at her for quitting.

Her purse beeped several times on the drive home, but she ignored it. She should stop pretending with this guy. It was cruel. Whoever he thought she was, she needed to set him straight when she got out of the car.

But there were three more messages. Reading through them, her stomach clenched.

First message:

What’s a PD?

Second message:

U have to go to games with me. She probably hated Astros. Should have seen it coming.

Third message:

The real pisser. I made reservs at 8 for Sotby’s. U know how hard to get? Screw her, I’m going. Wanna go?

Uh-oh. Now what? Abby wiped her thumb across the screen, as if to clear the message, or perhaps clarify it. Should she answer? He was going to expect someone to show up. It would be unconscionable not to set the poor guy straight. He’d sit there alone at that nice, expensive restaurant, the restaurant she’d never been to and probably never would because she couldn’t afford it. She had no boyfriend to buy her tickets and take her there.

She’d regret her next step … but she took it anyway.

PD = Police Department. Sure. Meet you there.

She had lost her mind.