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Cover image of the book

My Paper Heart by Magan Vernon

My Paper Heart

On Paper Wings

A Paper Trail

SKU: B008PVQ0AK Category: Contemporary Tags: Magan Vernon, new adult, romantic comedy
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About the author:

Magan’s Minions (Reader Group): http://on.fb.me/1lVsZEo

What inspired you to write your book?

In 2009 there weren’t any books about college aged characters or someone who failed out of college, so since I couldn’t read it, I wrote my own.

Here is a short sample from the book:

Well we both didn’t think our first time together should be in the front seat of his car, but I really thought that I should make up my stupidness of the night to him.
“Libby, I don’t think we should be doing this out here.” Blaine stammered, trying his best to keep his attention away from me.
“Come on Blaine. We are out in the middle of nowhere and no one will have to find out.” I looked up at him, batting my eyelashes and pursing my lips.
“Well…if you insist…” He grinned.
I tried to lean back, but realized that I was caught. Okay I was actually, really caught and something was pulling on my hair.
“OW.” I screeched as I furiously started yanking my head back and forth.
“What the hell, Libby?” Blaine’s eyes widened as he lifted his arms in the air.
“I’m caught on something.” I stammered, finally stopping to inspect what I was caught on.
Blaine looked down and covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. “Honey, your hair is caught on my belt buckle.”
I looked down to see a big chunk of my hair wrapped around his bright green John Deere belt buckle.
“Ack!” I waved my arms in the air, like I was scratching at nothing. “Get it out, get it out!”
He laughed again, but this time he stifled it quicker. “Alright baby, calm down.” He put his hand on the top of my head. “Now you are going to have to lean back down, so I’m not ripping your hair out.”
I leaned my head back down on his lap as Blaine finagled with the belt buckle, trying to pull out the blonde strands without hurting me.
“Oh shit.” he mumbled.
“What?” I looked up, hoping not to see a huge clump of my hair in his hands.
“COP. COP. COP.” Blaine screamed as he stared into his rearview mirror.
I tried to lift my head up, but then he pushed it back down, hitting the exact spot I had hit on the floor at the bar on the steering wheel. “OW!” I screeched, ripping that last piece of my hair out of Blaine’s belt buckle.
“Aw baby I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of my head quickly and tried to straighten out his belt.

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    Ensie smoothed out the dog-eared corner of the blueprints for the dozenth time. She shifted her weight on the bench, feeling the warmth of the sun on the back of her neck. She was too poor to own a watch, but she resisted the temptation to duck out into the hallway again and check the sepia-faced clock mounted on the wall. It had been 10:20 on the spot when she’d checked it moments ago. That meant that, by now, twenty-five minutes at most had passed since she’d left Mister Upforth and the rest of his team. And Upforth had said Cooper—or was it Carper?—would meet her in fifteen minutes. But the drafting room might be hard to find, for a civilian who’d never seen the Aerial compound before. And there had been an awful lot of wood left in that cart for just one person to move quickly. Even someone so tall, with those big arms and broad shoulders…

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    Why, oh why, oh why do I speak?

    He smiled at her. His teeth were a little small and his gums were a little long, so when he smiled he looked like a kid, with a child’s whole-hearted good humor. “That makes, what, the third time we’ve done introductions?”

    “I’m sure, probably,” she laughed. She touched her fingertips to the desk and found herself leaning towards him. “My third time, at least. And somehow I’m still not sure what your name is! Carper? Cooper? Caper?”

    “Cooper Carper, actually.”

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    She tilted her head at him. ‘Technician?’ Who are you, Sir Tomas? “You can call me Ensie.”

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    She laid out the specifications for the grasshopper-like craft, discussing fuel projections, the airflow models they’d run, and the properties of the alloys they’d debated for the hollow, curved wings. Cooper’s head bobbed up and down, and he offered a succession of mmm’s and I see’s at appropriate times. As she heard herself talk, she fidgeted with the bottom edge of the desk and only allowed herself quick glances up at his face. It was hard to tell if he was following the run-down at all, which gave her a heavy feeling in her stomach.

    Burn me. Maybe Mister Upforth had a good reason for wanting that woman Skye to be the one to talk to me…

    “So,” he said at last, shifting his weight. She looked up at him. “What exactly do you need us for?”

    “Just wanted to, uh, forge a partnership with Upforth’s for a consultation on our ranine apparatus. That’s all.”

    Cooper nodded. His forehead was wrinkled with vigorous thought. Ensie folded her hands together and tried not to let her disappointment show. He had the look of someone at an absolute loss for the right thing to say. Please, please, don’t be stupid.

    “Honestly?” Cooper said.

    “Mmm-hmm?” she said, tucking one of her bangs back into her hairnet.

    For a long moment, he just looked at the plans. Then he shook his head and gave a heavy sigh. His hands reappeared from behind his back and he leaned down so quickly their foreheads almost brushed.

    “Mister Upforth’s going to kill me,” he said, “but I don’t think you need us at all. The ranine designs you already deploy don’t have any trouble getting a Bulwark Petronaut off the ground, do they? And a Bulwark ‘naut in full armor’s gotta be eighty percent of the weight of this Flicker; maybe even the same, if their suits are steel and this alloy of yours is as light as all that. And I can’t imagine your test pilots are bulked-up the way Bulwark grunts are. I mean, who flies your things?”

    “Knighted ‘nauts and expert techs, mostly,” Ensie said, her eyes widening. There was a whole new energy to him.

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    “Hang on,” she said.

    “Sure. Sorry. I know I don’t have the right terminology—”

    “Did you say, uh.”

    She pressed her lips together. Business! But there was no hope.

    “Did you say I’m ‘on the svelte side?’”

    Cooper’s looked down at her. His face went gray with horror.

    “I hope that word means what I think it means,” he whispered.

    She looked to the far wall. Cute? Petite? Is that what you meant? She longed to ask him that like a Parade squad nymph would say it, drifting towards him with an archly raised eyebrow and a lazy, kissable half-smile. But just playacting through the line in her head set a swarm of nervous giggles buzzing around in her throat, perilously close to her voice box, and it was all she could do to keep a lid on them.

    “You’re.” Was that my voice? The word was a mortifying squeak.

    Ensie swallowed and tried again. “You’re right that the aerodynamic profile of the Flicker sure beats an armored ‘naut,” she said, folding the corner of the blueprints back for the fourteenth time. “And weights are comparable. But the jumping action we’re thinking of is on a different scale.”

    “Ah, okay. Higher elevations.”

    “Yes, but more importantly, jumping’s the primary locomotion for the Flicker. A ‘naut can leap around from time to time, sure, but most of what they do is run. A totally different use of the coils and their, uh, built-in suspensions. Their legs.”

    “Whereas the Flicker does nothing but jump,” Cooper said, rubbing the back of his neck.

    “Jump, and glide, and jump, and glide. You see? That’s why we need to make sure the coil box we build can handle tons of impacts, and launch with tons of force; but not so much force that the pilot loses control. See? It’s tricky.”

    “It’s tricky,” he agreed. Cooper raised his hands. “To be honest, though, I’d trust you Aerials more to make it work right than I’d trust us.”

    “But, uh.” Was he really going to walk out of her life because he was too honest to land his company a contract? Keep him. Keep him here! a hungry voice blared out somewhere inside her.

    “You must have done something this size before,” she said, hurriedly.

    “Oh, sure. We’ve worked big carriage suspensions. A motorized dais that raised and lowered, too, and had a bunch of dancers leaping around on it for, uh, a play or something.”

    “See? So Upforth’s could lend experience with scale, while we figure out the whole ‘aloft’ part.”

    “Ensie. I just want to be sure we wouldn’t waste your time.”

    Ensie took a deep breath through her nose. “It would take a lot of time,” she said slowly. She curled her hands into little fists, rubbing her thumbs against her fingers as she looked up at him. No giggling. No giggling!

    “We’d have to meet, uh… quite a few times, probably.”

    Cooper looked down at her. His hands unlocked from behind his back and floated to his sides. “Quite a few times?” he said, quietly.

    “Oh, yeah. A big project like this could take hours and hours of collaboration.”

    He nodded. One of his large fingers pointed to the desk. “Here?”

    As he tapped the surface of the desk, Ensie thought of purposes for the wide flat surface that had never even crossed her mind before. She’d never wanted to get started on a collaboration so badly.

    “Or your workshop,” she said. “You know. Whichever sounds more productive.”

    “Either sounds good to me.”

    “Great.”

    “Great. Can I say—”

    “I just want to—”

    They both spoke up simultaneously, and leaned a little closer at the same time. It brought them many centimeters closer than either had meant independently. Ensie froze there. He was so close that her hairnet was almost brushing the center of his chest. She turned her face up to him and saw something very interesting in his eyes.

    “You first,” she whispered.

    Cooper took a long moment before speaking. “Can I just tell you that I’m looking forward to working with you?”

    “Likewise…” Ensie shifted her hand so their fingertips on the desk were touching. “Cooper.”

    He shifted his hand on top of hers. Warm pressure, skin-to-skin, flooded up her arm and into her chest. The contours of his rough palm were fascinating as she explored them through the fine hairs and delicate nerves of the back of her hand. Her vision went a little blurry as she dedicated all her brainpower to experiencing his touch against her skin.

    A massive noise clattered through the hallway just outside. Ensie recoiled before she recognized the sound of the tool cart for what it was. Cooper started too, raising his hand up and away. He flushed the color of an overripe apple and he refused to meet her eyes as the tech outside pushed the noisy cart from one workroom to the next.

    “I.” Ensie brushed the nonexistent dust off the blueprints again, trying to get her voice under control again. Cooper slowly put his hands behind his back.

    “That, uh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. That was unprofessional of me, and I’m sorry.”

    She looked up at him.

    “I shouldn’t have… I mean, I didn’t mean anything by, by touching you.”

    “You didn’t?”

    “Well, I… it’s not… There’s a time and a place, that’s all. Unprofessional,” he rambled, shaking his head.

    Ensie felt the grain of the desk beneath her hand. “I made you think unprofessional thoughts,” she murmured.

    Their eyes met.

    “It’ll never happen again,” he said, something low coloring his voice.

    Ensie raised one eyebrow in an unspoken ‘really?’ she would have been very proud of if she had been able to see herself.

    Sunlight flooded the room as their lips pressed together.

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