Perfectly You by Robin Daniels
Ivy Nixon is the student body Vice President at Franklin High School. Each year, the school holds a date auction to raise funds for the senior class graduation party, and this year, Ivy’s in charge. Planning the event is a huge task and Ivy is determined to prove she can get the job done right. Unfortunately, she’s still one participant short and her deadline is looming. Andy Walker, her cute but socially reclusive art class table mate, is her last resort. He may not be popular, but he’s funny, talented, and full of surprises. With a makeover and some major social marketing, Ivy is sure he could fetch a decent price at the auction. Andy reluctantly agrees to help, but the more time Ivy spends with him, the more her feelings shift from professional to romantic in nature. To top it off, she’s done her marketing so well, that other girls are starting to notice Andy too. Come auction time, will Ivy be able to let him go to the highest bidder? Or will she find a way to keep him for herself… Content Description: This is a stand-alone YA contemporary romance with companion novels set at the same high school. It contains minor language, innuendo, and crude humor, some steamy kissing, a party scene where underage drinking is taking place, and a brief but tasteful conversation about sex. The author has attempted to write characters who make good choices in questionable situations, in effort to keep the content appropriate for teens. This book contains no sex, written or implied, and no explicit language. Recommended for ages 14 and up.
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"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." I lunged forward in an exaggerated show of gratitude and threw my arms around his waist, embracing him tightly. He flinched and tensed up for a moment. I'd caught him off guard. Eventually he relaxed and put one arm around me, awkwardly patting my back in some semblance of a hug. For a moment, I forgot what I was doing and leaned into him. Wow, he smelled unbelievably good. Like soap and dryer sheets and something a little sharper that I couldn't identify. I needed to ask him what cologne he wore, because it was incredible. I could smell him all day. Not to mention that his chest was a lot firmer than one would guess, since he hides it under baggy button-down shirts all the time. Andy cleared his throat and I pulled away. He looked embarrassed again. He really needed to get over that, and I was going to help him, starting right now. "Sorry." I grinned. "You smell amazing. Your cologne is yummy enough to eat. I could sit here and sniff you for the rest of the class." He choked on his spit and quickly put his fist over his mouth to stifle his laughter. "Please don't." He was trying to sound horrified, but his face gave him away. He appreciated the compliment. "Ok." I threw my hands up in surrender. "But fair warning...if I'm having a bad day, I may lean over and smell your neck to induce a calming effect. When that happens, don't punch me." Andy shook his head, bewildered by the turn our conversation had taken. "I'll try not to punch you, if you decide to randomly press your face against my neck." "When you say it like that, I sound like a psycho stalker." "Psycho and stalker are your words, not mine. But, if the shoe fits..." He trailed off, and I smacked him on the arm. "Ouch!" Andy rubbed the place I'd just hit. "I'm only kidding. I don't think you're a psycho stalker. I've never seen any indication that you're a stalker. You're more likely a plain old psycho." He was grinning nice and big now, and I couldn't help but grin back.
About the Author
Robin Daniels is a wife, mother of five and avid consumer of books. She loves reading SO much that she was actually grounded from it as a twelve year old. No Joking! Her mom caught her reading when she was supposed to be cleaning, which was a common occurrence. At that point mom took the books and instructed her to go watch TV or play outside like a normal kid. Robin is a sucker for home design shows and magazines, watches way too much Netflix and has a very codependent relationship with with a certain diet soda who’s brand shall not be named. (Though anyone with a similar problem could probably guess which one.)
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