Spotlight & Giveaway: LEASE ON LOVE by Falon Ballard

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Falon Ballard to HJ!

Hi Falon and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, LEASE ON LOVE!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Lease on Love is about a woman who confuses a roommate finding app for a dating app and winds up moving in with a total stranger because the real estate is too good to pass up. Lease on Love is REALLY about overcoming trauma and the importance of found family and how love can bring two completely different people together and help their healing.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

I plug the final numbers into my Get That Promotion, Bitch
spreadsheet. Even though I’ve done enough mental calculations to
know the end result will be positive, I still hold my breath, crossing my
fingers as I hit enter.
“This could be it. The chance to finally pay off those damn student
loans and live comfortably.” There’s no one else actually in my office,
but as usual, I hold a one-sided conversation with the air plant sitting
on my desk, housed in a concrete planter dipped in bright pink paint.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

I wrote Lease on Love in the early months of the pandemic as a way to escape (mentally) to one of my favorite cities in the world. It was inspired by a tweet and a line from Sex and the City: “In New York, you’re always looking for a job, an apartment, or a boyfriend.” I used writing Lease on Love as an excuse to live out all of my florist fantasies! I bought lots of flowers throughout the course of writing and had a lot of fun learning how to arrange and design!
 

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

Sadie is the main character in Lease on Love. She is fierce and funny and sarcastic and stubborn and a little bit damaged. I don’t think anything surprised me about writing her, but what I love most about her is how strong she is. Jack is Sadie’s love interest and roommate. He’s kind and nerdy and introverted and a lotta bit damaged. Jack and Sadie are basically opposites, and yet they complement each other perfectly.
 

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

I would have the characters read through part of Sadie’s first tour of the brownstone. Jack and Sadie have only just met, but their personalities are on clear display and their dynamic in this scene would need to be spot on.

Jack meets me in the kitchen, him on one side of the peninsula, me
on the other. “So what do you think?”

What do I think? I think my fairy godmother just dropped the solu-
tion to all my problems in my lap. With my savings and this ridicu-
lously low rent, I’ll have plenty of time to look for a new job. Maybe
even one I actually like. “I think it’s fucking perfect and you’re probably
making a huge mistake letting me come live in your perfect house, but
I don’t care because I love it so much and also that’s on you for match-
ing with me.” I take a deep breath, knowing I can’t get into this ar-
rangement without telling Jack the whole truth. “But I have to be
honest about something. I just got laid off from my job. I do have some
savings and I’m like a seriously, ridiculously hard worker. For real, my
job was my life. And I promise I will find something soon and I know
it’s a lot to ask, but if you take this chance, I swear I’ll be not the worst
roommate.” I clasp my hands together as if in prayer. Which they
might as well be.
He slides a lease agreement across the counter. “Sounds like you
could use a bit of a break.”

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

I hope Lease on Love makes people laugh and get those warm squishy feelings, first and foremost. And I hope they walk away realizing the importance of therapy and that childhood trauma doesn’t ever really fully go away. But I hope the main takeaway is the combined power of love, friendship, and really good real estate.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I am currently editing my second rom-com, which doesn’t have a title at the moment, but is about two high school sweethearts who break up when they separate for college only to find themselves competing for a job twelve years later. I’m also drafting a potential book three but I don’t think I can talk about that yet!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A Print copy of LEASE ON LOVE by Falon Ballard

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Excerpt from LEASE ON LOVE:

I plug the final numbers into my Get That Promotion, Bitch spreadsheet. Even though I’ve done enough mental calculations to know the end result will be positive, I still hold my breath, crossing my fingers as I hit enter.
“This could be it. The chance to finally pay off those damn student loans and live comfortably.” There’s no one else actually in my office, but as usual, I hold a one-sided conversation with the air plant sitting on my desk, housed in a concrete planter dipped in bright pink paint. Neither the plant nor its neon home is finance-firm approved, but it’s the only spark of joy in my tiny office.
When I finally force myself to look at the computer screen, my suspicions are confirmed. There it is, beaming through thousands of harmful blue-light rays: A complete budget. A budget based on the salary increase I’m about to earn. A budget allowing me to pay rent on my Kips Bay apartment while also paying off my student loans. In other words, shining down on me in my cramped office in this towering skyscraper is the Holy Grail of millennial life: a chance to be debt-free. I just barely manage to hold back a shriek of joy.
Now all that’s left is to actually secure said promotion.
I will get this promotion. And I will walk into that meeting with confidence.
Once I get a little reinforcement. Pushing my chair back and standing, I grab my phone, tapping on the screen and pulling up FaceTime. Our group chat is preset, so I hit call, checking my makeup as I wait for my best friends, Gemma and Harley, to pick up.
Other than a tiny zit brewing under the would-be-pasty-were-it-not-for-bronzer skin of my forehead, my face looks flawless. I touch up my matte pale pink lip anyway and fluff out my light brown but highlighted-within-an-inch-of-its-life hair.
Gemma answers first. “Okay, I’ve got ten minutes until my room is flooded with twelve-year-olds and their post-lunch sweaty hormones. Hit me.”
“First, did not need that visual. Second, where’s Harley? I only have time to do this once.”
“I’m here, I’m here.” Harley’s face pops on my screen, and judging by her slightly breathless greeting, she had to duck out of her own office before answering my call. “Are we waiting for Nick?”
“Like he’d step away from his desk for a pep talk.” Gemma snorts. “Sadie, stop touching your face.”
I glare at her but also heed her advice. “First things first, appearance check.” I hold the phone as far away from my body as I can, turning slowly from one side to the other, like I’m a ballerina in a music box. Or a chicken on a spit. I learned very early on what a perfect appearance could do for a woman, and I work hard to maintain mine. Confidence in my above-average looks often helps mask the self-doubt in my brain.
“You look fine.” Gemma’s not even looking at me, currently scribbling something on her whiteboard instead of bothering to glance my way.
Harley jumps in before I can snap at her. “You look perfect as always, Sadie. You got this.”
I push my shoulders back, my non-phone hand clenched in a tight fist, resting on my hip. “I am a strong warrior goddess.”
“You are a strong warrior goddess.” They both chant along with me, Harley mustering much more enthusiasm than Gemma.
The outward confidence seeps inward, drowning out my pesky negative inner thoughts. “I am going to get that promotion and show these motherfuckers who’s boss.”
“Yeah, I’m not saying that in the middle of my classroom when a kid could walk in any minute. But yes.” Gemma plops down at her desk and shoves a chip in her mouth. The loud crunching travels through the phone, making my shoulders tense up.
I drop the mask for a brief second. “Guys.”
“Sadie, seriously. You’ve got this. You’ve earned that promotion three times over, and it’s going to be yours.” Harley flashes me a calm smile and a thumbs-up. “You look beautiful, but more important, you know your shit, inside and out.” Harley rarely swears, so she must really mean it, and her words give me a much-needed boost.
Gemma moves the phone closer to her face, so her eyes dominate my screen. “You got this in the bag, bitch.” She lowers her voice on her term of endearment, then anxiously checks to make sure no little ears heard her utter a grown-up word, though lord knows her middle schoolers have heard way worse. And probably said way worse.
“Text us as soon as it’s official.” Harley gives me a through-the-screen high five.
“You’re so buying drinks this weekend.” Gemma shoots me a finger gun.
“Love you guys.” I blow both a kiss and hang up after their chorus of “I love you too.”
Badass-bitch mask firmly in place and bolstered by my friends’ confidence in me, I resume my superhero pose, this time tilting my head up and thrusting my chest out for the full effect, both hands firmly planted on my waist. I’ve never been more thankful to have zero windows in my office.
After sixty seconds of power posing, I peek in the mirror I keep hidden in my desk drawer. I adjust my gray pin-striped pencil skirt and fluff the sleeves of my white silk shirt. “You got this,” I tell my reflection before stuffing the mirror back in its hiding space. “I got this,” I repeat to my air plant. After one last deep breath, I put on my work face—one slight step up from resting bitch face. A face that says, I know what I’m doing but I’m also totally approachable! A woman-at-work-in-finance face.
My phone dings with a text as I pull open my office door.
Nick: Show those motherfuckers who’s boss, baby!
Oh, I plan to.
I full-on strut down the hallway of the high-rise building, making my way toward the conference room.
I am an accounting badass. I make spreadsheets my bitch. I’m going to kick this promotion’s ass.
The mantra runs on repeat through my mind as I stride through the open conference room door. Most of the team is already here, lounging in high-backed rolly chairs around a long glass-topped table.
I slip into a seat next to my best work friend, Veronica. Other than Veronica and myself, there’s only one other woman in the room, my supervisor and mentor, Margo. She hired me right out of college and has guided me through the ranks of the financial analyst world ever since. I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. Shit. My stomach goes for a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl.
Why won’t she look at me? Margo always acknowledges me, even if it’s with a simple head nod. This can’t be good. Holy fuck.
Any confidence built up by my friends slips right out of me.
No. I’m not going to do that. There could be plenty of reasons Margo doesn’t want to look at me. She probably doesn’t want to show favoritism. Or spoil the big reveal. I’ve got this promotion in the bag. I’ve been working my ass off—I’m talking unpaid overtime, weekends, and holidays—for the past six years, and it’s finally about to pay off.
The thought of not living paycheck to paycheck, something I’ll be able to do for the first time in my life with the raise accompanying my new job title, almost brings me to tears. But I sure as fuck am not going to blow this promotion by crying in the middle of the conference room.
So I paste on my easygoing-girl smile and clasp my hands together on the table.
The men in the room, a.k.a. the majority of the room, straighten up in their seats when we see our senior partner walking down the hallway. Bill Stevens reminds me of my grandfather, and I know how lucky I am to work with a manager who actually gives a shit about his employees and hasn’t ever once hit on me. Just the fact that I think of it as working with him and not for him puts him leagues ahead of every other boss I’ve ever had, and I’ve been working since I was fourteen. Bill is joined by a guy in his midthirties whom I’ve never seen before, dressed in an expensive tailored suit and a Yale School of Management tie. Gag.
Veronica pinches my elbow, but I don’t turn her way, my eyes glued to Bill as he takes his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for the newcomer to fill the seat on his right.
“Thank you all for coming.” Bill takes a minute to look around the room. “I know you’re all anxious for the big announcement, and I promise to not keep you in suspense. But before I make anything official, I want to say a few words about one of our rising stars, Ms. Sadie Green.”
Veronica pinches my elbow again, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Margo’s lips pursed tightly together, like she’s trying to contain her glee. Or keep from vomiting. One or the other.
“Sadie has been with the company for more than six years now, and I know I’m not the only one who has noticed how often she goes above and beyond the call of duty.” Bill makes direct eye contact with me, a warm smile on his face. “And while she has succeeded in all of her previous endeavors, it’s now time for her to manage her biggest project yet . . .”
I take in a long breath and just for a second close my eyes, hearing my new title before it actually comes out of Bill’s mouth.
“. . . training our brand-new senior financial analyst, Chad Thompson.”
The room goes silent and my stomach bottoms out like I’m in a free-falling elevator. Which, frankly, would be preferable to sitting in this very room at this very moment. My hands clench the armrests of my chair like I might actually be plummeting.
Nobody speaks for at least a minute. It’s like we’re in an episode of Saved by the Bell and Zack Morris has called for a time-out. My chest aches because I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing altogether.
“Who the fuck is Chad Thompson?” The words come blurting out of my mouth in a rush of air before I have time to fully comprehend what I’m saying. All I know is this has to be some kind of sick joke.
Bill stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “Chad is my future son-in-law. He just graduated from Yale with his MBA, and I think he’s going to be a terrific asset to the company. With your help and guidance, I have no doubt he’ll be a great leader.”
My mouth drops open, my brain struggling to process the words coming out of Bill’s stupid, stupid mouth. “With my help and guidance?” My voice is low and rumbly, one octave above full-blown Exorcist. “You seriously want me to train the man who’s straight-up stealing my job?”
Veronica tugs on my elbow, surreptitiously trying to calm me down, but I am having absolutely none of that.
“Sadie. You’re a very hard worker and a smart girl, but you aren’t ready for senior-level responsibility.” Bill’s voice drips with condescension and I mentally take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about him.
“But some guy who hasn’t stepped foot in the building until today is? His major qualification being that he fucks your daughter?”
The room inhales a collective gasp. Veronica rolls her chair away from me, as if no longer willing to claim association.
My cheeks burn and oh my god I said that out loud.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

I plug the final numbers into my Get That Promotion, Bitch spreadsheet. Even though I’ve done enough mental calculations to know the end result will be positive, I still hold my breath, crossing my fingers as I hit enter.
“This could be it. The chance to finally pay off those damn student loans and live comfortably.” There’s no one else actually in my office, but as usual, I hold a one-sided conversation with the air plant sitting on my desk, housed in a concrete planter dipped in bright pink paint. Neither the plant nor its neon home is finance-firm approved, but it’s the only spark of joy in my tiny office.
When I finally force myself to look at the computer screen, my suspicions are confirmed. There it is, beaming through thousands of harmful blue-light rays: A complete budget. A budget based on the salary increase I’m about to earn. A budget allowing me to pay rent on my Kips Bay apartment while also paying off my student loans. In other words, shining down on me in my cramped office in this towering skyscraper is the Holy Grail of millennial life: a chance to be debt-free. I just barely manage to hold back a shriek of joy.
Now all that’s left is to actually secure said promotion.
I will get this promotion. And I will walk into that meeting with confidence.
Once I get a little reinforcement. Pushing my chair back and standing, I grab my phone, tapping on the screen and pulling up FaceTime. Our group chat is preset, so I hit call, checking my makeup as I wait for my best friends, Gemma and Harley, to pick up.
Other than a tiny zit brewing under the would-be-pasty-were-it-not-for-bronzer skin of my forehead, my face looks flawless. I touch up my matte pale pink lip anyway and fluff out my light brown but highlighted-within-an-inch-of-its-life hair.
Gemma answers first. “Okay, I’ve got ten minutes until my room is flooded with twelve-year-olds and their post-lunch sweaty hormones. Hit me.”
“First, did not need that visual. Second, where’s Harley? I only have time to do this once.”
“I’m here, I’m here.” Harley’s face pops on my screen, and judging by her slightly breathless greeting, she had to duck out of her own office before answering my call. “Are we waiting for Nick?”
“Like he’d step away from his desk for a pep talk.” Gemma snorts. “Sadie, stop touching your face.”
I glare at her but also heed her advice. “First things first, appearance check.” I hold the phone as far away from my body as I can, turning slowly from one side to the other, like I’m a ballerina in a music box. Or a chicken on a spit. I learned very early on what a perfect appearance could do for a woman, and I work hard to maintain mine. Confidence in my above-average looks often helps mask the self-doubt in my brain.
“You look fine.” Gemma’s not even looking at me, currently scribbling something on her whiteboard instead of bothering to glance my way.
Harley jumps in before I can snap at her. “You look perfect as always, Sadie. You got this.”
I push my shoulders back, my non-phone hand clenched in a tight fist, resting on my hip. “I am a strong warrior goddess.”
“You are a strong warrior goddess.” They both chant along with me, Harley mustering much more enthusiasm than Gemma.
The outward confidence seeps inward, drowning out my pesky negative inner thoughts. “I am going to get that promotion and show these motherfuckers who’s boss.”
“Yeah, I’m not saying that in the middle of my classroom when a kid could walk in any minute. But yes.” Gemma plops down at her desk and shoves a chip in her mouth. The loud crunching travels through the phone, making my shoulders tense up.
I drop the mask for a brief second. “Guys.”
“Sadie, seriously. You’ve got this. You’ve earned that promotion three times over, and it’s going to be yours.” Harley flashes me a calm smile and a thumbs-up. “You look beautiful, but more important, you know your shit, inside and out.” Harley rarely swears, so she must really mean it, and her words give me a much-needed boost.
Gemma moves the phone closer to her face, so her eyes dominate my screen. “You got this in the bag, bitch.” She lowers her voice on her term of endearment, then anxiously checks to make sure no little ears heard her utter a grown-up word, though lord knows her middle schoolers have heard way worse. And probably said way worse.
“Text us as soon as it’s official.” Harley gives me a through-the-screen high five.
“You’re so buying drinks this weekend.” Gemma shoots me a finger gun.
“Love you guys.” I blow both a kiss and hang up after their chorus of “I love you too.”
Badass-bitch mask firmly in place and bolstered by my friends’ confidence in me, I resume my superhero pose, this time tilting my head up and thrusting my chest out for the full effect, both hands firmly planted on my waist. I’ve never been more thankful to have zero windows in my office.
After sixty seconds of power posing, I peek in the mirror I keep hidden in my desk drawer. I adjust my gray pin-striped pencil skirt and fluff the sleeves of my white silk shirt. “You got this,” I tell my reflection before stuffing the mirror back in its hiding space. “I got this,” I repeat to my air plant. After one last deep breath, I put on my work face—one slight step up from resting bitch face. A face that says, I know what I’m doing but I’m also totally approachable! A woman-at-work-in-finance face.
My phone dings with a text as I pull open my office door.
Nick: Show those motherfuckers who’s boss, baby!
Oh, I plan to.
I full-on strut down the hallway of the high-rise building, making my way toward the conference room.
I am an accounting badass. I make spreadsheets my bitch. I’m going to kick this promotion’s ass.
The mantra runs on repeat through my mind as I stride through the open conference room door. Most of the team is already here, lounging in high-backed rolly chairs around a long glass-topped table.
I slip into a seat next to my best work friend, Veronica. Other than Veronica and myself, there’s only one other woman in the room, my supervisor and mentor, Margo. She hired me right out of college and has guided me through the ranks of the financial analyst world ever since. I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. Shit. My stomach goes for a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl.
Why won’t she look at me? Margo always acknowledges me, even if it’s with a simple head nod. This can’t be good. Holy fuck.
Any confidence built up by my friends slips right out of me.
No. I’m not going to do that. There could be plenty of reasons Margo doesn’t want to look at me. She probably doesn’t want to show favoritism. Or spoil the big reveal. I’ve got this promotion in the bag. I’ve been working my ass off—I’m talking unpaid overtime, weekends, and holidays—for the past six years, and it’s finally about to pay off.
The thought of not living paycheck to paycheck, something I’ll be able to do for the first time in my life with the raise accompanying my new job title, almost brings me to tears. But I sure as fuck am not going to blow this promotion by crying in the middle of the conference room.
So I paste on my easygoing-girl smile and clasp my hands together on the table.
The men in the room, a.k.a. the majority of the room, straighten up in their seats when we see our senior partner walking down the hallway. Bill Stevens reminds me of my grandfather, and I know how lucky I am to work with a manager who actually gives a shit about his employees and hasn’t ever once hit on me. Just the fact that I think of it as working with him and not for him puts him leagues ahead of every other boss I’ve ever had, and I’ve been working since I was fourteen. Bill is joined by a guy in his midthirties whom I’ve never seen before, dressed in an expensive tailored suit and a Yale School of Management tie. Gag.
Veronica pinches my elbow, but I don’t turn her way, my eyes glued to Bill as he takes his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for the newcomer to fill the seat on his right.
“Thank you all for coming.” Bill takes a minute to look around the room. “I know you’re all anxious for the big announcement, and I promise to not keep you in suspense. But before I make anything official, I want to say a few words about one of our rising stars, Ms. Sadie Green.”
Veronica pinches my elbow again, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Margo’s lips pursed tightly together, like she’s trying to contain her glee. Or keep from vomiting. One or the other.
“Sadie has been with the company for more than six years now, and I know I’m not the only one who has noticed how often she goes above and beyond the call of duty.” Bill makes direct eye contact with me, a warm smile on his face. “And while she has succeeded in all of her previous endeavors, it’s now time for her to manage her biggest project yet . . .”
I take in a long breath and just for a second close my eyes, hearing my new title before it actually comes out of Bill’s mouth.
“. . . training our brand-new senior financial analyst, Chad Thompson.”
The room goes silent and my stomach bottoms out like I’m in a free-falling elevator. Which, frankly, would be preferable to sitting in this very room at this very moment. My hands clench the armrests of my chair like I might actually be plummeting.
Nobody speaks for at least a minute. It’s like we’re in an episode of Saved by the Bell and Zack Morris has called for a time-out. My chest aches because I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing altogether.
“Who the fuck is Chad Thompson?” The words come blurting out of my mouth in a rush of air before I have time to fully comprehend what I’m saying. All I know is this has to be some kind of sick joke.
Bill stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “Chad is my future son-in-law. He just graduated from Yale with his MBA, and I think he’s going to be a terrific asset to the company. With your help and guidance, I have no doubt he’ll be a great leader.”
My mouth drops open, my brain struggling to process the words coming out of Bill’s stupid, stupid mouth. “With my help and guidance?” My voice is low and rumbly, one octave above full-blown Exorcist. “You seriously want me to train the man who’s straight-up stealing my job?”
Veronica tugs on my elbow, surreptitiously trying to calm me down, but I am having absolutely none of that.
“Sadie. You’re a very hard worker and a smart girl, but you aren’t ready for senior-level responsibility.” Bill’s voice drips with condescension and I mentally take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about him.
“But some guy who hasn’t stepped foot in the building until today is? His major qualification being that he fucks your daughter?”
The room inhales a collective gasp. Veronica rolls her chair away from me, as if no longer willing to claim association.
My cheeks burn and oh my god I said that out loud.

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Meet the Author:

Falon Ballard loves to write about love! She also has an undying affection for exclamation points and isn’t ashamed to admit it! When she’s not writing fictional love stories, she’s helping real-life couples celebrate, working as a wedding planner in Southern California. She has a deep obsession appreciation for the Marvel Cinematic Universe, is a Disneyland devotee, and is a reality TV aficionado. If she’s not busy wrangling her seven-year-old, you can probably find her drinking wine and posting a pic on Instagram while simultaneously snarking on Twitter, because multitasking!
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