No More One More Time

<p>When is the perfect time to take up jogging to get in shape? Well it's definitely <em>not</em> on a whim out of the blue in the middle of August in Louisiana of all places when you're suffering from hot flashes mood swings and empty nest syndrome. What was I thinking?  Why did I do that? I should have just kept my fat ass home where the AC keeps it a comfy sixty-nine degrees. All my stuff is there. And fat rolls are coming back in style anyway… aren't they? If not they should be. I miss the Renaissance days when plus-size ladies were put upon pedestals and worshiped like the goddesses we are. What's that? I wasn't there? <em>So?</em></p><p>But no I just <em>had </em>to get in shape. I <em>had</em> to go jogging— and damn near got my ass flattened into a grease spot on the road by a spit-shined candy-apple-red Audi RS7 flying out of the neighbor's drive ass first. Smooth move Ex-Lax. And it's not even like I can claim I didn't know someone is living there again. I knew. The kids mentioned it before they took off for college. What I didn't know was it's Beau Barrineau the previous home owner's grandson — <strong>and my ex-boyfriend</strong>— that moved in.<br>That's <em>definitely </em>the last thing I need. Beau broke my heart when he left me behind the summer after graduation to pursue his dream of becoming a rock star. Yep he's the last person I want to see— but fine. Whatever. He won't be here long right? Not in Podunk Louisiana where they roll the sidewalks up at sundown.</p><p> </p><p>A hilarious fake engagement second chance rock star romance featuring a hot rock star and the only woman he ever loved. Watch as he does everything in his power to win her back. Failure is not an option.</p>