California Dreamer Series
by Dakota Madison
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 1, 2016 & April 8, 2016
(NOT SO) GOOD IN A ROOM, a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison, is a modern reimagining of Cyrano de Bergerac.
Awkward screenwriter Nellie Berg is great with words, as long as she can write them down. She’s written over thirty action scripts, but has been unable to sell a single one to Hollywood. Instead of working the room, every time Nellie tries to pitch her scripts to producers she becomes overcome with anxiety and completely blanks out.
When Nellie meets another aspiring screenwriter, Roscoe Rhodes, at Pitchfestapalooza they form an unlikely friendship. Roscoe is everything Nellie is not: outgoing, witty, charming…and good in a room. Roscoe suggests that Nellie hire his cousin, Chris, an unemployed actor to pitch her scripts to producers.
Things get complicated when Nellie falls for Chris and she seeks Roscoe’s help to seal the deal. Roscoe realizes he actually has feelings for Nellie. And Hollywood falls in love with the hot the new pretend screenwriter, who has never even read an entire script let alone written one.
I look down at my black patent leather shoes, white tights, black and white polka dot skirt. Then I glance around me. Everyone else is wearing dress jeans and button-down shirts with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Somehow I must have missed the screenwriters’ attire memo.
So in addition to being a bundle of nerves I look completely and totally out of place. Isn’t that just great for my self-esteem?
“You know this producer only makes action films,” Roscoe says.
I don’t even try to hide my scowl. “I know that.”
He points to another line directly across the lobby from us. “The line for romantic comedy is over there.”
“So?” I glare at him.
“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable over there?”
“You mean somewhere where there isn’t a misogynistic jerk standing in front of me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve written a script for an action movie?”
As I shake my head defiantly I wonder why I’m even talking to this asshole.
“Then what are you doing in this line?” His condescending tone is really starting to piss me off.
“I’ve written scripts for thirty action movies.” Choke on that you prick.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who would be interested in writing action scripts.”
“And why is that? Because I’m female? Have you bought into the sexist notion that women can’t write action scripts?”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. As much as I’d like him to crawl into a hole somewhere he stares right back at me.
“Maybe it’s the pink polka dot purse you’re holding. That just screams action film. Or the outfit you’re wearing. If Shirley Temple and Dorothy Gale had a love child she would dress like you. Except you look more like a Munchkin with your little round face and tiny body.”
I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. This guy just says whatever he thinks, doesn’t he. “You know that’s really insulting.”
“Munchkin,” he repeats.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say, Munch. You look like one of the dolls from the cabbage patch. I just want to put you on a shelf.”
“I consider that a micro-aggression.”
“Boo-hoo. What are you going to do? Call the PC police because I hurt your feelings?”
“You’re kind of a jerk.”
“Everyone says I’m charming.”
This guy is definitely no prince. “I guess everyone is wrong.”
So in addition to being a bundle of nerves I look completely and totally out of place. Isn’t that just great for my self-esteem?
“You know this producer only makes action films,” Roscoe says.
I don’t even try to hide my scowl. “I know that.”
He points to another line directly across the lobby from us. “The line for romantic comedy is over there.”
“So?” I glare at him.
“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable over there?”
“You mean somewhere where there isn’t a misogynistic jerk standing in front of me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve written a script for an action movie?”
As I shake my head defiantly I wonder why I’m even talking to this asshole.
“Then what are you doing in this line?” His condescending tone is really starting to piss me off.
“I’ve written scripts for thirty action movies.” Choke on that you prick.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who would be interested in writing action scripts.”
“And why is that? Because I’m female? Have you bought into the sexist notion that women can’t write action scripts?”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. As much as I’d like him to crawl into a hole somewhere he stares right back at me.
“Maybe it’s the pink polka dot purse you’re holding. That just screams action film. Or the outfit you’re wearing. If Shirley Temple and Dorothy Gale had a love child she would dress like you. Except you look more like a Munchkin with your little round face and tiny body.”
I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. This guy just says whatever he thinks, doesn’t he. “You know that’s really insulting.”
“Munchkin,” he repeats.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say, Munch. You look like one of the dolls from the cabbage patch. I just want to put you on a shelf.”
“I consider that a micro-aggression.”
“Boo-hoo. What are you going to do? Call the PC police because I hurt your feelings?”
“You’re kind of a jerk.”
“Everyone says I’m charming.”
This guy is definitely no prince. “I guess everyone is wrong.”
After being at the center of a sex scandal that made national headlines a former nanny tries to rebuild her life by becoming a personal assistant to a reclusive writer.
What happens after your 15-minutes of fame are over?
Find out in SO FAR AWAY, a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison.
Maddie Malone is the nanny who made national headlines. She’s the temptress who broke up the marriage of two of Hollywood’s most beloved movie stars. She’s the girl everyone in America loves to hate.
Now two months after the Nannygate sex scandal Maddie is desperate to rebuild her life.
She accepts a position as a personal assistant to the reclusive writer, Jackson Drake. He’s fired every one of the assistants his manager has sent him within the first few days of employment, but Maddie is determined to do whatever is takes to make her new job work.
Maddie is able to follow every one of Jackson’s eccentric rules to the letter. That is until Emerson Drake shows up for Spring Break. He’s Jackson’s son from an affair he had with Bahamian creative writing student when he taught at UCLA. He’s the son who Jackson has somehow managed to keep hidden from his fans for all these years.
Maddie finds Emerson incredibly attractive…and Jackson has forbidden Maddie to date him.
“That's her.”
If I had a dollar for every time I heard those two words in the last three months I'd be wealthy and not so desperate to find a job.
Even though I'm wearing a baseball cap and dark sunglasses I'm still recognizable. Somehow the paparazzi always manage to find me. Today is no exception. They snap photos of me as I dash into the corner market.
I selected Gino’s, a small neighborhood grocery store, because I thought it would be safe. Or at least safer than some place like Trader Jay's Whole Foods Organic Gluten Free Market where the paparazzi expect to see celebrities.
Not that I’m famous…more like infamous. I’m the Naughty Nanny. That’s the moniker I was given by the press following Nannygate.
“That's her.” A young blond girl elbows her friend and points in my direction. The two whisper and snicker as they gawk at me.
People aren't subtle when they stare. And they often say rude things about me, right to my face. I've even had a woman spit on me. Obviously she was a big fan of America’s Sweetheart, Annabelle Miller.
I had only worked for movie stars, Daniel Robinson and Annabelle Miller aka Dannabelle, for a few months before all hell broke loose.
Annabelle accused me of screwing her husband and immediately filed for divorce.
When two of the hottest celebrities in Hollywood split up it’s big news, especially when there’s another woman involved.
And I just happened to be the other woman.
I do my best to remember the few items I had intended to pick up at the market.
Tomatoes, pasta, mushrooms…I can’t remember the fourth item.
It’s difficult to keep my mind on my grocery list while every other customer in the place gapes at me.
Olive oil. I snap my fingers. That’s the final item on the list.
The older woman at the cash register doesn’t seem to recognize me. I consider that a small miracle. She just asks me for my twenty bucks then bags my items.
When I step out of the store there are still several photographers waiting to snap shots of me.
How many people are able to completely ruin their lives by the time they’re 26 years old? I’ve certainly done an excellent job of it.
I wave to the guys snapping my photo and then give them the finger. I’ve got nothing to lose. Everyone in the English-speaking world already hates me.
Of course no one knows the real story, and oddly enough no one seems to care. The scandal took on a life of its own and I became the target of hatred and scorn.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard those two words in the last three months I'd be wealthy and not so desperate to find a job.
Even though I'm wearing a baseball cap and dark sunglasses I'm still recognizable. Somehow the paparazzi always manage to find me. Today is no exception. They snap photos of me as I dash into the corner market.
I selected Gino’s, a small neighborhood grocery store, because I thought it would be safe. Or at least safer than some place like Trader Jay's Whole Foods Organic Gluten Free Market where the paparazzi expect to see celebrities.
Not that I’m famous…more like infamous. I’m the Naughty Nanny. That’s the moniker I was given by the press following Nannygate.
“That's her.” A young blond girl elbows her friend and points in my direction. The two whisper and snicker as they gawk at me.
People aren't subtle when they stare. And they often say rude things about me, right to my face. I've even had a woman spit on me. Obviously she was a big fan of America’s Sweetheart, Annabelle Miller.
I had only worked for movie stars, Daniel Robinson and Annabelle Miller aka Dannabelle, for a few months before all hell broke loose.
Annabelle accused me of screwing her husband and immediately filed for divorce.
When two of the hottest celebrities in Hollywood split up it’s big news, especially when there’s another woman involved.
And I just happened to be the other woman.
I do my best to remember the few items I had intended to pick up at the market.
Tomatoes, pasta, mushrooms…I can’t remember the fourth item.
It’s difficult to keep my mind on my grocery list while every other customer in the place gapes at me.
Olive oil. I snap my fingers. That’s the final item on the list.
The older woman at the cash register doesn’t seem to recognize me. I consider that a small miracle. She just asks me for my twenty bucks then bags my items.
When I step out of the store there are still several photographers waiting to snap shots of me.
How many people are able to completely ruin their lives by the time they’re 26 years old? I’ve certainly done an excellent job of it.
I wave to the guys snapping my photo and then give them the finger. I’ve got nothing to lose. Everyone in the English-speaking world already hates me.
Of course no one knows the real story, and oddly enough no one seems to care. The scandal took on a life of its own and I became the target of hatred and scorn.
USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.
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