Author: Jas T. Ward
Title: A Little Pill Called Love
Genre: Women’s Fiction
Release Date: July 11, 2020
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: BookSmith Design
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/37BtGKs
All other links: books2read.com/littlepill
A quirky character in her own colorful world. A man who struggles to see beyond black and white. With heartbreak and healing, A Little Pill Called Love is just the prescription for a little laughter, twists to heal, and a love that demands to be heard.
Rylie Marshall has blue, green, yellow, and a mixture of pills that made her “normal.” But her idea of normal and what her mother or society wanted her to be never seemed to match up.
She lives day-by-day in a fantasy land within her own troubled head and books. Reading was her escape whenever even her head denied her such a haven. So, how was she to know that one day, sitting on the beach, a book would show her the one thing she didn’t have, but might change her life…
Mike Newport had white, yellow, and striped pills that made him capable of being one of the most cut-throat corporate marketing advisers his clients could have. Not even a life-changing tragedy could slow him down.
His days and most nights were spent with his head buried in flow charts, graphs, and spreadsheets. Busy was the best way–the heart could easily be ignored as it was dying inside his chest.
The last thing he needed was a vacation, but how was he to know that a carefree girl, playing in the waves and talking to the birds might give him the one thing he had been avoiding…
From bestselling author Jas T. Ward comes a touching, quirky, fun, and gritty read—A Little Pill Called Love, rebranded, edited, and published by Hot Tree Publishing.
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/37BtGKs
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/38xxU7k
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2Pi8nYr
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2V3EpLd
I read about this. You know, when the good-looking guy looks at a girl and there’s a funny feeling in the tummy? It happens in all the books—didn’t matter if it’s a serious romance or one of those erotica books my mother didn’t let me read but I did anyway—and I thought it silly before too. How would butterflies get in anyone’s stomach to even know what they what they felt like? But for the first time, I understood—a fluttering like tiny wings kissing you on the inside. Note to self—it was a real thing. My tummy was getting inside kisses when I looked into Mike’s eyes as he held the shell of the gross, raw oyster in his fingers. Not taking the time to look at his fingers before now, I saw they were long and slender. His nails were perfect; I wondered if he did manicures and stuff. That made me wonder about his toes and the thought made me giggle at the image of executive Mike sitting in a salon getting a mani-pedi—bet he’d be on a phone or even a laptop when he was supposed to be relaxing. The image teased a burst of laughter preparing to escape, but then he said those words and no way could a girl make a sound after “take a chance.” Okay, so he probably meant taking a chance with the oyster, but it could mean so many other things. Blinking, I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but I also didn’t want to appear to be stupid either. Swallowing, I leaned forward enough to slurp the oyster and I couldn’t help it. I spit it right back out. “Oh, it’s gross. So gross!” I waved a hand in front of my face to fan it and heard Mike laughing. I blushed so much I felt as if I would catch on fire as my ever present flee and run instinct reared up, until I once again became fascinated by his laughter. It was the different one again—like he didn’t laugh at me like he found me weird or strange. I felt he did because he thought me funny and smart, or so I hoped. I smiled and wiped my mouth with the cloth napkin and pointed to the oyster as it landed on my saucer. “Who ever thought to open up a shell and go, oh, let’s put this booger-looking thing in our mouth and see what it tastes like?” Mike gave up trying to eat the other oyster he picked up as his hand braced on his forehead in laughter. “I have never thought to research it. But you do have a point.” He smiled and slurped the oyster back like it was not the grossest thing in the world and let out a sigh I guessed came from pleasure. Oh wow, please let him make that sound after every single one of those nasty things. “I’m going to assume we need to order you something else.” He lifted his hand and the waitress came over as he glanced at me. “What do you want, Rylie? Just say it and it’s yours.” You… Naked…. For once, if not the first time ever, my brain actually stopped words from coming out of my mouth and boy, did I get happy about that. I sputtered as the waitress handed me a menu and tried to focus on what it listed, trying not to be distracted by more moans of oyster joy coming from across the table from me. Focus, Rylie, focus. I looked at the menu to see what food might not dribble all over my boobs if I had as much trouble eating as figuring out what to eat. “Uh, can I have the grilled shrimp with the parmesan potatoes?” The waitress nodded as I handed her the menu back. I rested my chin on my upraised hand as I watched Mike eat those oysters, almost wishing I’d ordered another platter of them, even if they were gross, just to watch and hear him eat them. He must have become aware I watched because he set the last half-shell down and smiled. “Anyone told you how incredible your eyes are, Rylie? Especially when they’re staring at a man as he makes a fool of himself with shellfish?” I blushed again and then covered my face with both of my hands. “No. But you are the first guy I’ve ever watched eating sea boogers.”
Welcome to my worlds, take a seat, get to know me and the characters and I assure you… You’ll be glad you did.” ~Jas T Ward
Born and raised in Texas, Ward is a mixed bag of creativity spinning tales of paranormal, urban fantasy and even dark romance and horror; wrapped within a love story. She’s been dared to write a few contemporary romances but even those reads have characters that are real and twisted by their creator.
Mother of three diverse and independent bold children, Ward prides herself for being the “Queen Niche’ Bitch” which is a handy way of saying she sucks writing to market.
But her readers don’t seem to mind.