May the biggest liar win. Or die trying!
Personal trainer for the ever popular, Lose it! reality show, Jillie Maxwell is up for the most important award of her career. And she’s competing against the biggest b-eye-itch she’s ever met. Fortunately for her, she has the sexiest man alive in her corner. Problem is, each and every one of them has a dirty little secret that could tank a career.
For the contestants, the race is on to lose the most weight and win everything. For the staff of the popular weight loss show, the clock is ticking to the culmination of their lies and the possibility of losing it all.
Will the Biggest Poser win? Or will the lies just grow and grow until they sink the whole show? Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens, it’s gonna be an entertaining ride!
4.5 Stars Single Titles: “The Biggest turned out to be an amazing story. Little things keep going wrong in the competition and all evidence seems to point one way but as the story unfolds, the fabric of all the lies starts to come unraveled. Who is The Biggest Poser? Read this delightfully fun, sexy story to find out. You will not be disappointed in The Biggest Poser by Sam Cheever.” Debby Guyette, Single Titles
Brandt stood in the massive entryway looking around in bemused awe as people surrounded them and whisked their bags away with quiet efficiency. He’d had his doubts about taking the job when it had been offered to him, but everything he’d seen since arriving at the airport had cemented in his mind that he’d made the right decision.
“Watch out for that small bag, you cow! I’ve got thousands of dollars of cosmetics in that thing!”
The young woman carrying the makeup bag had already taken several direct hits from the heavy artillery known as Deva Banks and looked ready to cry.
The woman’s name definitely suited.
Brandt’s gaze swung to the dark haired woman standing next to him. “Lighten up, Deva. She’s just trying to do her job.”
The young woman, who had introduced herself as Anne, smiled gratefully in his direction.
Banks snorted. “If nobody tells them when they screw up, how will they learn?”
Brandt looked away. Deva Banks might have been a kick ass instructor, but she had to be the meanest bitch he’d ever met.
“Oh God!” She moaned in his general direction. “I hope they aren’t planning on putting us on one of the upper floors in this rat-hole. I absolutely despise heights.” Her beautiful bright green gaze slid to the matching curved staircases rising from either side of the entryway toward the three floors above.
“Then I’m sure they’ll place you on a lower level.” Brandt watched the abused young woman with the makeup bag whisper something to the young man helping her carry Deva’s bags and they turned toward the staircase on the right.
Brandt and Deva followed Anne up the stairs to the second level and kept going. The abused young woman sent a smug look over her shoulder as they passed three and headed for four. Brandt caught her eye and grinned.
Apparently Deva Banks would be quivering in terror on the fourth floor for the duration of her stay. You should never piss off the people who made things work.
“Welcome to the Lose it! Ranch!”
Brandt slid his gaze toward the other stairway and he sucked in a breath.
He’d been about half in love with her for three years, ever since she joined the cast of the show and stole the hearts of every person with an extra pound of weight to lose, while terrifying them into peeing their pants.
She walked toward them wearing a welcoming smile, her spectacular gray-brown eyes sparkling with pleasure.
The woman standing behind him blew out an irritated breath. “Oh good, you must be the makeup person? I’ll need you in my room in an hour. We need to go over my makeup. I’m very particular about how my face is done.”
Brandt frowned as the petite black woman skidded to a stop, the small hand she’d been about to offer them drooping with uncertainty. Of all the abuse he’d witnessed by the dark-haired witch, her part in removing the shine from Jillie Maxwell’s pretty almond-shaped eyes was more than he could take.
He stepped forward and grabbed the drooping hand, holding it between both of his. “Ms. Maxwell, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been a fan for years.”
Jillie threw one last hesitant look toward the Deva and then favored him with a smile that made the ligaments in his knees melt. “The pleasure is totally mine, Mr. Parkerson. I’ve been following your work since that article in Food Guru last year. It was a very impressive piece.”
Brandt shook his head. “I just happened to fix the right dish that night. It was pure luck. But if it helped me get this job, I’m really glad the reviewer liked sea bass stewed with apples and onions.”
Deva Banks, apparently annoyed to be ignored for more than thirty seconds, cleared her throat and stuck her hand between them. “I’m sure you know who I am, Jillie, so I won’t introduce myself. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you.” She flipped a perfectly manicured hand in the air. “I only notice people who are important to me. You know what I mean?” She smiled and patted Jillie on the forearm. “Nothing personal. You’ve done a decent enough job carrying this dog of a show so far. I’m sure you’re pleased to be able to step aside now and let me take over.” Her wide mouth, perfectly coated in deep red lipstick that reminded Brandt of a red delicious apple, spread in a mean grin. “And not a moment too soon, eh?”
Even her laugh sounded mean.
Jillie stood, blinking for a beat, her soft pink lips opened slightly in shock. Once she got over the astonishment of being so publicly and unexpectedly insulted, she shook her head, her short cap of black hair dancing with the movement. “Not at all, Ms. Banks. I assure you your presence on the set will only highlight my strengths. I welcome the competition.” Her smile widened as Brandt coughed to hide a laugh. “Now I’ve been told that you both have rooms on the fourth floor. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you where you’ll be living this season.”
Brandt couldn’t help throwing Deva Banks a grin as they started up the wide staircase. The woman was just about purple with rage, and she nearly broke off a stiletto heel stomping after Jillie.
Brandt turned his focus to more pleasant things, like the heart-shaped derriere of the world’s favorite fitness instructor bouncing up the stairs in front of him. His high opinion of her was only strengthened by the realization that she appeared more than capable of holding her own against the hag from Hollywood.
The season was going to be fun and promising. And he couldn’t wait to get started.
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USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.
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