Worth Any Cost
Gaming the System, Book 6
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You are cordially invited to the wedding of the decade.
Adam Drake and Emilia Kimberly Strong have chosen a date to solidify their love in the bonds of matrimony.
Join them on their exotic destination wedding. Visit with their friends and loved ones. But hold the champagne toast. Fate has a few last tests for our couple on their way to the altar.
Natural 20 or natural disaster?
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Connected Books: Gaming the System
What the Critics Say
“I LOVED this novel. It was everything I hoped for when I stepped back into the world of Adam and Mia. You must read these novels as they have a little bit of everything you need. They have humour, romance, heartache, witty and fun characters, and so much more. Impatiently awaiting the next installment “ ~ My Timeout Book Blog
“Worth any Cost is what true love is all about. We have been part of Mia and Adam’s for so long, and we get the wedding we have all waited for…Adam and Mia together just make sense. They leave you wanting more to their story, and not wanting the book to end.” ~ Book Haven Book Blog
“I don’t think the book could have been any more perfect. It has all the geeky references long time fans of the series come to expect and love. It wouldn’t be a Brenna Aubrey book if it didn’t tug at the heart strings a little…Adam and Mia are perfect for each other and this book cements that.” ~ Book Lovers United
“I am so honored to have had the opportunity to follow these two through all their tough times and their amazing love for each other.” ~ Once Upon a Romance Blog
Read an Excerpt
Adam was due to return home tonight. He’d only been gone three nights and four days. Not as long as some trips, but still. It never failed that we’d fall into a routine of normalcy, and just as quickly, he’d have to pick up and go away. Sometimes to the East Coast, but more often, lately, up to Silicon Valley. The pluses were that it was a short flight and still in the same time zone as me.
Of course, he’d squish two weeks’ worth of work into that four-day stay in Northern California. He ran from meeting to meeting to facility tour to yet another meeting. And if he did catch a meal that wasn’t filled with power lunch meetings or dinner networking, I was in class or lab or study group. We hardly found a moment to Skype or call, apart from the group emails to our wedding planner.
But as I’d told April, we always found a way to stay connected, in spite of how crazy things got.
So this week, we rocked it with text messages.
In some ways, it was like the old days, when we’d first met over chat on Dragon Epoch. I’d send him a text…sometimes about any old random thing. And he might respond immediately, or he might respond hours later.
A normal conversation that would take minutes at home over morning coffee or a wee spot of pillow talk could span a day or more.
Me: I’ve been thinking about pet names. When we’re married, we should have pet names for each other.
Him: What? Really? Like Honey Boo?
Me: Not that one.
And his mobile phone, the instrument with which he conducted business constantly, the device that often distracted him in my presence, became the very vehicle he’d use across the miles to flirt with and tease me.
The irony was not lost on me.
Him: Wifey? Little woman?
Me: Only if you want me to remove your man parts. Painfully.
Him: Ouch. Okay… Your Majesty? Love Bug? Sweet Bumps?
Me: Sweet Bumps? For real?
Him: Okay, maybe not. But they -are- sweet. Your bumps, I mean.
Me: Definitely not Sweet Bumps.
To accept this man into my life, to love this man, was to take him in with his flaws and foibles as well as those qualities that made him the closest match to perfect for me. So, with no other choice, I turned my enemy—his phone—into my ally.
I sent him a headless shot of those very sweet bumps he’d been extolling.
He reprimanded me, as he usually did, whenever I sent him a naughty photo.
“Security lapses, blah blah. Not safe. Blah blah.”
My fiancé was a computer nerd. I’d take the risks because if I wasn’t safe sending him dirty pictures, who was safe?
His answer—predictably—was no one.
He got back to the subject at hand a few hours later when I was in class.
Him: How about I call you Goddess?
Me: Getting warmer.
Him: What will you call me? I suggest Iron Man. I would answer to Iron Man.
Him: Or RoboCock.
My mouth was full of tea when that text chimed on my phone, hours later, during my study time. I almost sprayed the full contents of my mouth all over my phone screen and my open textbook.
Typical Adam. He’d probably sent that in the middle of some boring think tank meeting.
Me: Dude, No way am I calling you that.
Him: L No?
Me: Nope…that one, you’ve got to earn.
Him: That’s what our honeymoon is for.