Fabricated, an all-new must read dark new adult romance from debut author M.T. Morgan is available now!
In a world where every detail is forged in lies and deceit, how do I know what’s real?
I signed a contract: One season on a reality show for loads of money. No more living paycheck to paycheck, financial freedom was finally mine. I would join the world of the elite, rub shoulders with the wealthy.
Old money and secret societies are what rule the world. Everything is at their fingertips but even their secrets have secrets. And somehow I got wrapped in their web of lies, left standing in the ruins of their action.
Everything I’ve ever known is fabricated. Except maybe him. I looked to him for salvation but he broke me more than anything else ever could.
It started with a contract. Now all I want is to make it out with my heart still intact.
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Excerpt“Mr. Lexington, your seat is this way.” I look up to see Branson, black cigar pants fitted tightly around his powerful thighs, a red tie the color of my dress—as in, spot on, not a shade off. His hair is combed back, eyes sparkling with darkness as he takes me in. He ignores the usher, choosing instead to aim a death glare at Dominic. “You’re in my spot.” “No, he is not.” I roll my eyes. The nerve of him. He smirks. “I wasn’t talking to him.” Before I can protest, he pulls me up, spinning me until I land on his lap. “Don’t make a scene, Darling. Trust me, the media is already having a field day with you.” Smug bastard is smiling. I can hear it in his voice. His lips ghost over my shoulder as his arms wrap around my waist. “Anyone told you how beautiful you look tonight?” “Yes.” It is too easy to want to melt into his arms, lay my head upon his shoulder, and just breathe for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Anyone who actually matters? Because as far as I’m concerned, I’m the only one allowed to compliment you. And you look even better than beautiful tonight.” “How so?” I cannot hide my curiosity, no matter how much I want to. I want to get up and demand him to leave, but truth is, I am out of my element here and his presence lessens my anxiety. “Because you look like mine.” Be still my heart. Do not—I repeat, do not—let the butterflies out of the cage.
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