Bing Bang BOOM!

They say the first snowfall, or a kiss shared at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, is filled with magical powers, but I think the bang of fireworks in July is where it’s really at.
But that could be because while those fireworks are banging away throughout the month, the sophisticated Tom O’Reilly is finally banging me.
I’ll get to that soon. First, I should probably start at the beginning.
My best friend Sabrina Malone met Austin Walsh, a powerful New York City attorney, while we were in Vegas last year. They had this I hate you chemistry with all the sexy banter of a romance novel that led them to Austin’s room where my bestie gave him headsies before sneaking out without goodbysies. Long story short, Austin’s mom discovered Sabrina’s crafty talents at a fair in New Jersey and hired her to do more than decorate Austin’s office and home.
Tom O’Reilly is Austin’s best friend and partner at Gentile, O’Reilly, and Walsh, the law firm they opened not long after graduating from law school.
I first met Tom in the spring when Sabrina gave me a tour of her new workplace in the heart of New York City. Yes, my bestie is living her best life, but enough about her.
This is my story. Focus.
I was born and raised in a working-class neighborhood in New Jersey.
Now, don’t say it. I’ve heard it all before—people from New Jersey are obnoxiously loud—because if you didn’t grow up in my state, you missed out and now you’re jealous because us Jersey girls are self-sufficient, passionate, opinionated beach worshipers as evidenced by my year-round tan. And yes, it’s cold and snows here in the winter. What? You got something you want to say? No? I didn’t think so!
I’ve finally found what makes me happy, my calling in life, if you will. Being an influencer on social media for books is fulfilling and fun and all the things a job should be. Please, I get to read, review, and promote books. It’s not like my overpriced degree in marketing from The University of Delaware was going to get me a better gig. Trust me, I tried.
Now, I’m going to go out on a limb here…you know I’m not talking about classic fiction, autobiographies, or historical textbooks, right? I’m not the Princeton University New Jersey type. I like my literature with sex like any self-respecting Jersey Girl on the Turnpike does.
And it’s that word that started this whole thing.
Literature. Well, sort of.
You see, I came up with a play on a sexy word merged with literature and I use it as my brand. I use the word…a lot. Now, that’s not the issue. The problem is some crazy-ass author got it in her head that she owns the fucking term and every form of it.
Insane, right?
So nuts, I bet you think she sent me a message on social media or a little email whining to me about how this is her word and not mine, right?
Well, you’d be wrong.
This level-five-nutter is suing me!
Like legally.
In the New York court system.
Over a word.
And I get it. This is a cut or be cut industry—social media and using it for marketing—but you don’t see me cutting off the pigtails—my trademark hairstyle—of every little girl I see sporting them, now, do you?
Okay, there might have been one time a little brat commented about my age and the hairstyle, and I may have tugged on one of hers when her babysitter wasn’t looking, but that’s neither here nor there.