Spotlight & Giveaway: Trivialized Pursuit by Mia Heintzelman

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Mia Heintzelman to HJ!

Hi Mia and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Trivialized Pursuit!

To start off, can you please tell us a little bit about this book?:

A logic and numbers game store owner and her best friend’s commitment-phobe player brother join forces for trivia nights and test the limits of their “friendship.” Between her “one shot at love” list, a Vegas Dirty Thirty party, and refocusing their views of love away from their parents’, a fun-loving, banter-filled, friends to lovers romance takes shape.
 

Please share your favorite lines or quote(s) from this book:

“A little competition, and he will be yours in no time.”
“Nothing can unsexify the language of love.”
“All I know is, I don’t want to feel this just once.”
“This is my love language. I figured acts of service or words of affirmation, but now I’m one thousand percent sure I’m physical touch. Murph’s touch.”
“All my lists and relationship books, they’ve made a mockery of me.”
“Love comes in as many shapes and forms as do the ways people show it.”
“Aw shucks, sparky, you’re going to make me blush.”

What inspired this book?

Again, I’m a board game junkie. For Trivialized Pursuit, the loud, raucous game nights I hosted have been relocated to bar trivia nights. So, there’s the heavy dose of fun, geeky, cornball humor drenched in banter. It’s the “com” of rom-coms.

But this book is also an ode to my parents, who I love so much. Not the sex part because…no! LOL The choose love and grow with each other part, though? That’s all them. They’ve been the HEA example my entire life.

How did you ‘get to know’ your main characters? Did they ever surprise you?

Okay, so we met Roxanne Sloane, Harper’s sister, in Monopolove. She’s logic and numbers, reason, order, and above all, lists with boxes that require checking. It’s no wonder she loves trivia because there are definitive answers to satisfy her question-happy brain. But love doesn’t come with correct answers on the back of the card. As far as she’s concerned, with a father on his fourth marriage and Mom who she believes never moved on, she’s got one shot at happily ever after, and the odds aren’t great. But she’s willing to use that shot on Murph, her best friend’s commitment-phobe older brother? Talk about Risky.

What she doesn’t know, though, is Murph is grappling with his own preconceived notions of love, marriage, and settling, based on what he witnessed of his parents’ marriage. What surprised me is how much I was rooting for them despite having plotted their love story LOL. It’s a slow burn, angsty, strangely tearful, runaway friends to lovers romance that makes pitstops at every emotion along the way.

What was your favorite scene to write?

Hands down, the (unfortunately fictional) Game Face, Vegas trivia bar scene. It’s the promise of the premise with two scoops of fun lingo and games plus an innuendo cherry on top!

SCENE

“Trivia,” he announces with a far-too-excited fist pump.
“Say. No. More.”

I am amped. I halfway expected we’d be those button-pushing slot hoarders, hogging machines, too afraid to get up and let someone else win after we’ve fed all our money to the machine. My head is right with him on this one, though. Drinks, trivia, my new boo beside me whispering sweet nothings and correct answers.
That’s my idea of a good time.
But then he holds up a hand and twists his wrist to check the time before he cocks his head to me. “Thousand-dollar jackpot.”
We both nod, totally in sync.
I shower quickly and we both change clothes. We’re out the room with our game faces in place looking like a pair of badass fanny-pack-wearing tourists ready to see what Vegas is bringing to the trivia table.
Downstairs, the casino is in full swing.
The glitz and glam atmosphere is alive. Loud, pinging slot machines, servers in little more than swimwear, and pit bosses with their eyes on all of it. I’m talking wall-to-wall swarms of table games and people begging to give away their money in the name of horrible odds.
“This way, sparky.”
Murph takes my hand as we step off the elevator to the right and weave through the crowd to the far back. Up ahead, I spot a board-game-themed bar that makes me feel right at home. Giant stacked classics. Monopoly, Clue, Sorry!, Scrabble, and my sweet spot in dusky blue with golden lines, Trivial Pursuit.
“I’m in heaven.”

Murph squeezes my hand, smiling.

Immediately, I note the hanging question marks and jumbo game pieces strung from the ceiling. Enlarged and framed game cards line the back wall. There are brightly colored Trivial Pursuit wedges and pie hubs. My game- loving mind is blown as I take in the full panoramic view of humongous game board murals.
I feel like I’m back at Love & Games but on steroids.
“Do you like it?” Murph asks, snapping me out of my revelry.
“What kind of question is that? Do you know me at all? Heck yes I like it. I love it.” I’m grinning from ear to ear as I whip out my phone and take pictures of everything that draws my eyes. “If we have time, I’ve got to bring Harper and Nadia back to this place.”
A few seconds tick by as I snap a load of shots. But then Murph’s words in the room come barreling back to me.
The word on the street is…
Jolting around to face him, I see the recognition on his face.
He shrugs, his blue eyes sparkling with affection. “I may have searched for anything board game related before you got here. I was hopeful you’d let me tag along, but I wasn’t sure you’d want me around.”
Here you go. Just take my heart. All of it.
Where has this version of Murph been hiding all my life? These past few weeks, he’s gone way out of his way to prove how much he cares. He’s sweet and thoughtful, and I don’t have a doubt in the world he’s it for me.
Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I tip up onto my toes to kiss him.
“I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this, or if you feel the same way, but I’m falling hard and fast for you, Murphy Theodore Sikes.”
He says nothing because I don’t give him the chance. Right here against the blue-spoked wheel wall of the game that brought us together, I kiss him with my entire body. Electric pulses rev through me, my heart knocks against my chest, and an entire bar full of trivia heads whistle and cheer us on.
I cringe when I hear someone call out, “It’s the Monopoly Queen’s sister.” Like, really loud.
“All is fair in love and board games, ladies and gentle- men,” the blue-haired quizmaster says, leaning into the mic as she curls her fingers into a heart shape.
“Heck, yeah. Vegas!” someone screams, which sends the rest of the bar off the fanatical edge.
There’re hoots and hollers and even a little impromptu beatboxing on the mic as we slink hand-in-hand into a pair of seats at a table in the middle of the room. The quizmaster throws her hands in the air, telling us to wave ’em like we just don’t care.
She raps the old McDonald’s commercial jingle Mom and I used to sing about Big Macs and Filet-o-Fishes.
Because this is “Vegas, baby, yeah,” I take my cue from her, getting to my feet to help her out.
And then the entire crowd joins in. “At McDonald’s.”
Game Face is literally the liveliest bar I’ve ever been to and I’m certain it has ruined me for all bars going forward. I need more handholding in game-board-themed bars with beatboxing trivia night fast-food rap collabs in my life.
I tell Murph as much, but he’s still staring at me with stars in his eyes and an ear-to-ear smile on his gorgeous face that makes my heart flutter.
“What?” I ask, settling back on the chair.
He scoots it so close to him our thighs touch and he puts his arm around my shoulders. “After that performance, I’m a hundred percent certain I’ll be beating them off with a stick.”
We laugh as he hugs me into his chest, pressing his lips to my hair.
“Welcome to the lovely couple who just joined us. Special shout-out to the badass woman in the pink jumper who knows addictive commercial jingles and raps with oomph.”
Don’t even get me started with Golden Girls or Fresh Prince…
The quizmaster jabs her finger in the air toward me, so I do my obligatory wave to the crowd to the tune of more applause.
“All right, all right, all right. Now that we have everyone hyped up, let’s get down to some Trivial Pursuit. I’m Raine, your badass quizmaster from the boogie down Bronx. Alicia is walking around with your controllers for your virtual game markers, and don’t forget DJ Jazzy Geoffrey coming straight at you from Sussex holding down the Ketel Ones and Dos Equis at the bar. Remember, no lip, just tip. Let’s go.”
She hits a button, and I might be dreaming, but a wall- length screen with digital Trivial Pursuit board descends from the ceiling.
Hello, beautiful…
There are no words to describe the glory in knowing if it was on the ground, I could literally walk on a Trivial Pursuit board.
It takes me a good minute to calm my nerves, but then we get our little handheld clicker and it’s on. Team Sparky Sikes (yellow) against the best Vegas offers.
Right off the bat. We. Are. On. FIRE!
We get the pink entertainment and brown literature wedges easily getting no questions wrong—Forrest Gump’s best friend’s name and Jane Austen’s second book about making hasty judgments…
Come on. You’re going to have to try harder than that to take us down.
Also, it’s worth mentioning my normal two-cocktail rule is out the window. I’m at least three in. Or is it five now?
Lost count, but oh well. Either way, it’s still our turn.
Murph hits the roll button, and our virtual die does its little spinning tumble, landing on a six. He knocks sports out of the way, so we move back to the orange cheese wedge.
“How many seconds must a cowboy stay aboard a rodeo bronc?”
Immediately, people squirm, praying we get this wrong, so they have time to steal.
I lower my chin, tilting my ear to Murph, figuring he’s got this one. But he gnaws his bottom lip. “I’m about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure it’s six seconds.” He nods, pleased with his answer, but I’m not feeling it.
Not that I’m the expert on rodeo, but for some reason, it feels like he’s low-balling it.
For a beat, I drum my fingers on the table, racking my brain for any rodeo movies I’ve seen. There’s Urban Cowboy, classic. Dallas Buyers Club with scarily skinny Matthew McConaughey. Ooh, The Longest Ride with sexy Scott Eastwood. What was that Luke Wilson movie? No, Luke Perry from that old school 90210?
“Time is running out. We’re going to need to hear your answer,” quizmaster Raine says.
“Eight seconds. It’s eight seconds,” I whisper-yell, cupping Murph’s ear, reverting to childhood.
I suspect I’m right, too, because a collective groan sounds from the next table.
He surveys me with the direst expression like this is life or death and not just our reputation in front of people we’ll likely never see again. “Are you sure?”
“Ten seconds,” Raine calls out.

“Absolutely.”

I think that’s the end, but then he drags his tongue into the corner of his mouth. “Willing to make a wager on that? Say, if you’re right, we stay and play. I’m right, we go up to the room right now and you stop torturing me.”
My body prickles with awareness at the gruff tone of his voice.
Holy sexpot.
“Five seconds,” Raine counts down.
I don’t have time to overanalyze what I’m doing to torture him, and by the knitted brows making their first appearance of the night while I’m horny and hyped up on brainpower, I know I’m going to want to torture him some more.
“You’re on,” I say to Murph, then call out, “Eight seconds,” without taking my eyes off him.
We get the orange wedge, but now I can’t get my mind off tortured Murph. Deliciously sexy, tormented Murph, who I decide I do want to do many bad, bad things to me on that king-size bed. And then there’s the wager.
Why did I have to be right?
My take is he’s doing it on purpose, but as Murph slouches in his seat, letting his knees hang open, my gaze catches on the tented denim of his jeans. And stays there because I’m a saucy little trivia minx.
I’m determined to get the last three wedges, collect my bragging rights, and then—if torture is code for what I think it’s code for—I will be in my birthday suit in Murph’s bed two days before my birthday.
Note to self: Calm down and play the game.
Whipping the clicker from Murph’s hand, I roll the die and move our marker three spaces, landing on blue, geography. It’s not for a wedge, but I’ve got to get this show on the road before I get arrested for public indecency when I rip off Murph’s clothes and straddle him right here.
“What’s the largest Japanese island?”

Oh, quizmaster Raine. Inwardly, I’m puffing out my chest. I only know this answer because I have an obsessive tendency to study Trivial Pursuit cards. Because my libido is raging against my incessantly throbbing machine, I don’t even consult Murph before I answer.
“Honshu.”
The next two rolls, I answer like a common knowledge Jedi, whipping around the virtual board. Murph and I aren’t even a team anymore. This is the Rox, newly crowned Trivial Pursuit Queen, show—this woman has royally pressing matters to tend to.
“Hydronium,” I call out for the green science and nature wedge.
Everyone else in the bar gets the picture. Drinks are flowing and all chairs are turned to face me. I don’t even care it’s likely no fun for anyone else. I’m horny, we’re in Vegas, and I’m a hundred percent sure by the I want you so bad expression on Murph’s face right now we won’t even wait until we’re properly in the room before we rip at each other’s clothes.
Let’s go. Mama needs a new pair of sexy lace panties for Murph to bite off with his teeth.
Two more wedges.

Geography and history.

Not my strongest subjects, but that’s what studying cards is for.

A few more rolls and correct answers earn me more applause. Then finally, I land on yellow. History. Admittedly, I’ve only got an eighty-twenty shot of getting this right, but history has nothing on a woman in—
“We might have a record for fastest trivia domination here, folks,” Raine says, pulling the next card. But then she blows out her cheeks and slowly releases a breath. “Whoa… Let’s see what this amazing lady does with this one.”
Well, that’s not a response I’m used to hearing.
“How old is the world’s oldest sex toy?”
I dart my eyes over to Murph as the corner of his mouth hitches up and his brows dip obscenely. My stomach muscles are clenched far too tight to be embarrassed now.
“Thirty thousand years,” I say straight-faced with my head held high.
Damn right I get the wedge, and the crowd chants, “Trivial Pursuit Queen, Trivial Pursuit Queen.”
But after that question, with the images flooding my head, there is no way in hell I’m staying a second longer.
Forget the thousand bucks. I stand, grab Murph’s hand, and before anyone can ask me what’s happening or why I’m walking out on the game when I’m one wedge away from a grand and serious bragging rights—that won’t produce a mind-blowing orgasm, mind you—I announce, “It has been a pleasure, but my birthday is two days away and I don’t want to wait that long to get laid.”
Murph’s open mouth is priceless.
And maddeningly sexy.

What was the most difficult scene to write?

Usually, it’s the first scene with all the work required to break into a new story. For Trivialized Pursuit, though, the scene with Murph and his family at the restaurant table, coming to terms with his parents growing older. It was so significant to his view on love, his willingness to explore the difference between settling and settling down. Also, as a person super close to my parents, it felt emotional and personal.

SCENE
I rub my hand over my face again and look back at the restaurant entrance. Mom and Dad are five minutes early is on time people. I can’t think about my stomach with all the worst-case scenarios gnawing at me.
“Have you talked to Mom this morning?”
“Yeah, she said they’re slow moving today…” Nadia trails off. She doesn’t lift her gaze from the menu long enough to notice the way my posture slumps, the slight tension draining from my body. “I think I’m going to go with the shrimp tacos and the blueberry lemonade mimosa.”
With that all worked out, she sets the menu on the table and stares out at the water, but I sense the strained silence.
“Any idea what this brunch is about?” I ask.
When she meets my gaze again, she heaves a sigh.
Every twist of her expression tells me she knows what I’m
doing. “Can you not give them a hard time today?” She says them, but we both know it’s not Mom and me who butt heads.
“Yeah.” A humorless laugh huffs out of me as I scratch my chin. “Yeah, I’m the one giving them a hard time. Sure. That’s it.”
Vivian and Allen Sikes are snowbirds who usually spend the warm months in New York and the cold season here. Both retirees—a senior editor for a publishing house and a cardiologist, respectively. They’re upstanding community members and empty nesters with two successful adult children, the white-picket-fenced house, and a feisty golden doodle.
When it comes down to it, Mom is unassuming and pries too much, but I know it’s because she cares. Dad is stoic and quiet, harsh when he speaks. Further reason we rarely do.
To the outside world, they are this picture-perfect couple who proved they can have it all. They mastered their careers, then had children later in life, and came through it happily married for almost forty years. People look at them like some example to follow. I’ve seen them my whole life from the inside. To me, their loveless marriage is the one thing I don’t want.
“You’re such an ass sometimes,” Nadia says.
Because I really don’t want to get into this right now, I change the subject. “How’s everything with Love & Games since the news broke?”
Her shoulders sag and she lets her head fall back with a sigh. “Serious? Now you’re trying to act like you’re so concerned?”
I don’t validate her comments with an answer. She knows damn well how I feel about her and the Sloane sisters.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and tosses me a smirk. “Harper’s all freaked out about this auditor coming tomorrow. She’s doing these elaborate window displays and reorganizing our entire inventory like this person’s going to give us demerits for being messy and not alphabetizing the board games.”
“So, other than that, the three of you are okay?”
Nadia dips her chin and pins me with a pointed stare. Her lips twitch as she bites back a laugh.
“All three of us are doing fine…” She trails off, laughing at my expense. “If you want to know how Rox is doing, why don’t you just ask? Or call her yourself? You act so ridiculous about her.” She flicks her eyes skyward.
I stare at the city sprawled out beyond the bay.
“Fine. How is she? Has the backlash from the interview taken a toll on her?” Heat creeps into my cheeks. Inwardly, I’m wincing that my sister can read me so easily.
When I turn back to Nadia, movement over her shoulder snags my attention, pulling like a loose thread.
It’s Dad’s jutting chin and slightly curved broad shoulders that pierces through the crowd first. He’s aloof and unsmiling as usual, but the way his heavy brow wrinkles draws my attention to his labored trudge.
He looks right past me to Nadia, and that’s when I catch sight of Mom. Her prominent cheekbones climb up to her sparkly blue eyes at the sight of us. She’s got on her favorite royal-blue track suit with sneakers and her thin gray hair is curled today, but I can’t pull my attention away from the oxygen tank as she struggles to drag it behind her.
A war between fear, fury, and numbing sadness wages inside me.
Has it been that long since I last saw them? When did she become so fragile and small?
My throat tightens around thoughts of the unthinkable. Of all those worst-case scenarios that ran through my mind, this wasn’t one of them. Somehow, I keep forgetting that while I’m getting older every year, so are they.
Obviously, I know death is an inevitable part of life we all must grow to accept, but the thought of losing them always seemed so far off.
Fuck.
Agonizing fear splinters through me as a wave of icy pan- ic washes over me. An urge to protect them, preserve them somehow. I scramble to my feet, taking wide, hurried strides until I’m in front of them.
“Oh, now, don’t you dare give me that face, Teddy,” Mom chastises me, using her pet name for me. After my middle name, Theodore. “I’m fine. I’m just not as fast as I used to be, and my lungs need a little help. Don’t get old.” She chuckles.
I force a smile and carefully wrap my arms around her, hating how much I wish I could freeze time. My pulse picks up as I chew the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. My heart feels like someone is wringing all the life from it.
“Murphy,” Dad finally acknowledges me as I hook Mom’s arm on to mine, guiding her to the table. “It’s good to see you, son.”
My throat constricts as my eyes latch on to him.
I’m hardwired to meet his words with animosity. The sight of him has never failed to bring all the anger I’ve been harboring toward him to the surface. Somehow, my focus always zeros in on him ever one step ahead of Mom. Never holding hands. They don’t have fun or kiss. Their lives are as separate as the beds they sleep in.
In the back of my mind, the days he left her in that hospital bed to fend for herself while she fought off pneumonia and hypoxia with strangers taking care of her, he’d showed exactly how much she meant to him. What Mom and Dad shared had never been a marriage, and I couldn’t let go of the idea it was a business arrangement in which he never held up his end of the bargain.
If that was what marriage was, I didn’t want any part of it.
It made me ache for my childhood when I’d been bliss-
fully ignorant about marriage. When other parents who hugged and kissed and showed affection made my stomach turn. Before I ever considered divorce might have been a better option.
But today, my heart keeps arguing none of that matters now. When it comes down to it, it’s the only thing that matters.

Would you say this book showcases your writing style or is it a departure for you?

Trivialized Pursuit is definitely a showcase of my writing style. With its upbeat, flirty banter and sneaky emotions weaved in between fun tropes, games, and real life issues, this book is true to my style.

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

Through life’s hang-ups and experiences, love is a choice. Choose it with your whole heart, and be willing to be playful and have fun.

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

I’m writing the second book in my new Fortemani Family series and promoting my Love & Games series. The good news: I’ve got lots of books to write. The great news: I’ve got lots of books and audiobooks coming, starting this year through 2025!

Love & Games Series – All is fair in love and board games.
July 6, 2023 – Trivialized Pursuit
October 12, 2023 – Clued in Christmas

Terms & Conditions Series – Love & Law
Fall 2023 – The Friendship Contract Audiobook
Fall 2023 – Book Two

All Mixed Up Series
2023 – Mixed Signals (available now), Mixed Match (available now), and Mixed Emotions Audiobooks

Through the Grapevine Series – Love, roots, and wine.

Spring 2024 – Book One
Summer 2024 – Book Two
Fall/Winter 2024 – Book Three
Spring 2025 – Book Four

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Winner will receive one eBook copy of TRIVIALIZED PURSUIT and one additional Tule Publishing eBook of the winners choice!

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Excerpt from Trivialized Pursuit:

CHAPTER ONE
ROX
Q: Derived from a French word meaning “to block” or “to obstruct,” what word’s first recorded use was by Michael de Montaigne?
A: Embarrassment
“Shoulders back, chin high, smile, and don’t throw up,” I tell myself as I scoot my chair closer to my freshly Lysoled dining table and flatten my hands on the cool glass surface.
I inhale a deep breath, then smooth the lines of my sensible sleeveless pink blouse. It’s a conservative, not-too-low-cut, bright solid that, according to my “TV Interview Prep” checklist, meets the recommendation for high-definition television.
It’s a visual medium, and I’m supposed to want viewers to focus on me, and not my busy clothes.
“This is all part of the plan. It’s going to be like any other interview.”
Breathe.
This is just a video chat with a new friend. On a nationally syndicated news program. With tens of thousands of viewers waiting for me to screw up.
“Why did I agree to do this stupid interview?”
A little voice in the back of my head reminds me this is about the store, not me.
I’m here to keep Love & Games’ name in the news. Literally. Three months ago, my sister, her best friend Nadia, and I saved our business. Now we just need to remain socially relevant. And keep growing at an exponential rate. Spread the word. Keep our faces out there.
But if in the process I happen to catch the eye of some well-rounded, devastatingly handsome stranger who loves his family and is open to genuine commitment and intimacy…
I peek over at my Book of Lists and turn to my checklist of the day, where “find an amazing eligible bachelor” did not make the bullet-point cut.
Again, this is about the business.
My heart rate kicks up as nervous energy zips through my veins. A groan claws its way from my throat, and I suck in several deep breaths to stop myself from checking my watch for the umpteenth time. Instead, I open my laptop and double-check my makeup, then my teeth for signs of egg and spinach omelet bits before digging my hands in my hair to zhuzh up my curls.
“It’s only five minutes,” I tell myself.
A notification jolts from the side of the screen, both startling and reminding me to log on to the video call the studio set up.
“I’m going,” I mutter. A quick glance at my checklist with all its boxes filled does little to relieve my anxiety. My fingers tremble as I type in the meeting ID and passcode. I check my selfie light one more time, making sure my laptop is positioned to show only the brightly colored business on top. Not the polka-dot pajama party on the bottom. Because that would be counterproductive.
One viral video is enough.
Then I peel the black electrical tape from my webcam.
As soon as I click Submit, a little circle spins, further winding me up, when my screen splits in two.
You’ve got this.
“One of the game shop owners involved in that now-famous Monopoly kiss-gone-viral is with us today via satellite,” news reporter Jennifer Ling says.
I have no clue whether they’ve patched me in yet or if I’m live, so I smile awkwardly.
“Earlier this month, Channel 5 Action News brought you face-to-face with the blissful couple who confessed their love with the world watching. This week, we bring you the co-owner of Love & Games, and the mastermind behind the romantic-comedy-inspired stunt that saved a small, women-owned business.”
She continues to detail the events of the video, beginning with my sister’s boyfriend Declan’s live post, asking Harper to meet him thirty minutes before the city Monopoly tournament if she returned his feelings. The screen cuts to a clip of the movie Never Been Kissed. It’s my favorite scene of Drew Barrymore standing on the pitcher’s mound, waiting to be kissed for the first time.
Jennifer Ling chuckles good-naturedly as the movie clip ends and the video of Harper and Declan kissing appears on the screen.
“Roxanne Sloane is the sister of Harper Sloane, the woman people have affectionately named the Monopoly Queen, seen here showing up for the man she calls the love of her life.” The raven-haired news reporter flashes her megawatt smile straight ahead. Behind her, there’s a huge monitor with her face beaming on one-half of the screen.
On the other half?
Me.
With a glob of Vaseline glazed over my teeth to hold my shaky smile in place—advice from the helpful Monopoly Queen herself.
You never know who’ll be watching. Or who you’ll meet… Harper had purred earlier on the phone, baiting me. The operative silent words being that I’m never going to meet a guy if I don’t go somewhere and do something new. Even if this pointless interview benefits the store.
Just smile and be yourself.
So easy.
Which normally it is. I’m good at putting my best foot forward in the public eye. But this is my dining room table, and knowing Jennifer Ling, the won’t-be-scooped reporter known for exposing tax scams and pest-infested eateries, she’s probably gunning for something a little less rodent and a lot more reality TV. I’m both dreading and dying to know what her angle is going to be with me.
Restless, I tug the hem of my blouse and cheese into the camera.
“Welcome, Roxanne Sloane. It’s great to have you with us.”
Jennifer clears her throat, and her blunt-cut bob dusts her slender olive shoulders as she draws them back. Not even a peek at the paper stacked in front of her before she narrows her gaze, sucks in a breath, and plasters on her serious journalist face.
“Thank you for having me.”
I shift in my chair, bracing myself for one of her classic curveballs. After the media storm attached to anything Love & Games, I became the famously single sister of the Monopoly Queen. Lucky me. The world knows I’m a workaholic who can’t get a man. At least Ling won’t be able to stump me with any Are there any wedding bells in the near future questions like she did with Harper and Declan. They met in January. It’s the end of June. Like, what’s the rush down the aisle?
“Tell me, Rox… May I call you Rox?” She chuckles.
Okay, she’s just buttering you up. Stay on your toes.
I nod like a grade-A newbie. “Yeah, yes,” I stammer. “That’s fine.”
Ling pauses for what seems like forever, and I make the mistake of looking at myself on the screen. The fresh honey highlights I got last week for this occasion aren’t warm and beachy like I imagined. Mixed in with my shoulder-length dark brown hair, the stark selfie light casts a putrid green, almost chartreuse glow. Decidedly not my best look. Add in the new Bliss & Makeup Co. pink stain currently chapping my lips and the mink lashes Nadia swore would make my eyes pop, and I’m a flaming hot YouTube makeover mess.
Literally, given that I forgot to put on deodorant.
I sit up taller, resolved to focus on the reporter instead of nitpicking my image.
“So, tell me, Rox. How does it feel to know the video you orchestrated has fifty-six million views?” Her voice is measured and choppy in that newsy way reporters use to make things sound super dire and important.
And it works.
But at least she’s going with the viral video route. This isn’t going to be so bad.
The last I checked, the number of views was at some crazy inconceivable number, but fifty-six million? Holy flaming shit did that video work.
“Wow,” I say, but I feel heat rushing up from my neck to my cheeks as my mouth falls open. I’m still shaking my head, my hand pressed to my chest as I twist to angle my good side to the camera. “Actually, I haven’t looked at it in a while. I didn’t know, but that number is wild.”
Yeah, this isn’t bad.
“Wild is right, Rox. What does attention like that do for a small business? Tell us what inspired the video.” She tips her chin up to look at me over the bridge of her pin-straight nose and clasps her hands.
I’m just glad we’re veering into talk about Love & Games.
“Ms. Ling—”
“Call me Jennifer, please.” Her smile teeters on genuine and I feel myself softening.
For the next few minutes, we go over everything step by step, beginning with the BusinessFunder account I set up to crowd-source funds to save Love & Games. All it took was the perfect rom-com movie groveling scene brought to life. The people liked, subscribed, and clicked in droves. The rest is viral history.
“Love sells, and we were hoping some of it would also sell games,” I say.
Jennifer Ling clasps her hands. “That was some quick thinking.”
“Risky, but thankfully it worked.”
“Speaking of love and games…” She attempts to segue into Monopoly and my dating life, and I quickly redirect to the merits of Trivial Pursuit, my favorite board game, thinking about how well this interview is going.
Well, if this is the worst of it, then I’m good.
Soon, the conversation volleys at an easy rhythm for a bit until she brings us full circle.
“Do the numbers translate to sales?”
“Thankfully.” I laugh.
But she continues to probe until I outline all the things a viral number of views affords a small business: increased traffic, an undeniable spike in sales, local celebrity—for Harper and Declan. Our BusinessFunder crowd-sourcing account is still getting donations. Not to mention we’re receiving invites to snazzy parties, fan gifts, and brand spokesperson requests. “Interviews like this one,” I quip, even if I am still unclear why our story is assigned to an investigative reporter…
“Other than the messages from guys offering to be my sugar daddy”—I cringe, recalling some of the creepy DMs—“the publicity has been freaking great.” So much so that, after more than a year, I’m finally feeling at ease with the trajectory and solvency of our business.
Enough to shift—at least a fraction—of my focus and attention.
Find love.
My immediate thought goes to Dad. It took him four marriages and there’s still no guarantee he’s found true love. Actual love. I don’t want to go through multiple marriages to get it right. I’m willing to take time, figure out what the heck I want the first time. Especially if the history of Sloane women giving up after a single setback is any indicator.
I’ve got one shot. I’m not throwing it away on just anyone.
“It must be a lot to handle.”
Jennifer’s voice jolts me back to reality, and I smile.
“Definitely. It’s been a whirlwind, but it’s a welcome one. We’re so grateful to our growing community,” I say, beaming. My nerves have eased up on me. My shoulders are relaxed. The early afternoon sun streaming through my blinds has neutralized the selfie light, and dare I say it, I’m actually looking hot on camera.
Hot enough to—hopefully—steal some unsuspecting, but well-adjusted, emotionally mature, settled viewer’s eye.
“Yes…” Jennifer trails off and tucks a bone-straight onyx strand behind her ear, focusing on the papers in front of her for a sec.
But then she lifts her gaze to me again, and there’s amusement stewing in her espresso eyes.
“Speaking of your BusinessFunder donations, I’m sure that you’ve already used most of the funds as listed on the public account toward your lease, utilities, accounts payable, fixed assets, and inventory.”
Something passes over her face I can’t quite place.
Where is she going with this?
“Absolutely.” I swallow, nodding slowly. “Because the donations received are taxable income, we’ve offset all but our recurring expenses.”
When she takes a long pause again, my mind spirals.
Jennifer Ling is a self-proclaimed scam-buster. I’ve seen more than a few of her of tax exposés… Shit! That’s what this is. She’s reviewed our tax returns and found an error. She’s probably teamed up with some auditor friend and this is it. Jennifer Ling is going to publicly crucify me and Love & Games. We’re going down.
A shudder washes over me. My heart knocks around in my chest. Panic flares in my gut. All the air in my lungs lodges in my throat, and there’s a strong chance I might faint.
“As you know, I’m the chief reporter for Channel 5’s Top Tax Scams.” My pulse thunders. Here it comes. “I hate to be the one to inform you about this, but during my preparation for the interview it’s come to my attention that a shadow account has mirrored your BusinessFunder account.”
Wait, what?
“What?” My eyebrows trench and I feel my entire face twist in confusion.
“Your account is listed under Love & Games Store with your University Avenue address. However, I’ve discovered an account with the name Love & Games Shop on University Lane,” she clarifies. “There is no business filed with the Secretary of State under the latter. Nor is there a street with that suffix.”
And there it is.
The curveball.
All the air in my body plumes out of me. My shoulders sag at my sides as I shake my head. What the actual fuck?
Behind her, the giant television plays a live news feed. The screen isn’t halved with the two of us anymore. For a few seconds, it’s just my face taking up the whole screen. There I am. Looking feverish with my mouth wide open. Eyes overbright, a flush of red-hot shock swarms over my skin.
Of course they freeze-frame me looking deranged.
Mother… No, no, no, no. Harper and Nadia are watching this, probably freaking out, too.
I open my mouth and try to speak. I really do, but nothing comes out except for an ear-piercing squeak.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you all of this.” Jennifer Ling dips her chin solemnly.
When I’m finally able to string words together, I eke out, “So, someone is trying to steal our donations?” I have this niggling need to wrap my head around this new information overwhelming me.
On cue, Jennifer Ling nods sympathetically, her thin lips pressed tight. Her expression is heartfelt and solemn, but I can almost see her writing her Pulitzer acceptance speech.
“There is a silver lining, though, Rox.” Seriously? “After some digging, I’ve found a way to stop the bleeding.” Have you now? She nods like she’s reading my mind. “Immediately after I discovered this unthinkable situation, I reported it to the IRS and the Federal Trade Commission. An investigation is underway as we speak.”
A mirthless laugh pushes past my lips.
It’s a strange feeling of pained relief. There’s an ongoing investigation which will surely prove those thieves wrong, but what about the donations we haven’t transferred yet?
“What’s going to happen to the funds that were rightfully donated to us?”
Quick to respond, she squints and nods. “Absolutely. Great question. Unfortunately, the funds in both accounts are frozen until the investigation is complete, but we have every hope all capital raised will be returned to Love & Games Store.”
I fold my arm over my chest and prop the elbow of the other on it, massaging my temple. That’s the silver lining?
Naturally, Jennifer sniffs through my thoughts.
“As a courtesy, Channel 5 Action News has arranged for JWC Business Solutions to complete an audit at no expense to Love & Games.”
An audit?
God, why did I let down my guard? This is Jennifer Ling. Of course she’s got something up her ridiculously expensive sleeveless blouse. It’s not enough she’s broadcasted to the world that we’ve not only been duped, but donations stolen, assets frozen by the freaking FTC. And now we’re being audited? Audited?
What if I’m missing a receipt or my math is off?
No. No, no, no, no, no.
Every white-collar crime drama I’ve ever seen reels across my mind. Hyperaggressive, tough-talking suits drilling us for paper-filing blunders or typos. What if I entered the wrong filing status?
The shell-shocked image of me flashes across the screen again as Jennifer Ling wraps up my world-shattering segment. I thank her for having me and sign off. Not just disconnect. I shut the whole dang laptop down and close it. For a moment, I deflate against my chair, still in a state of shock.
This was not the plan.
I’m officially freaked the freak out.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Trivia (n.) 1) little-known facts. 2) a quiz game that has Roxanne Sloane questioning everything.

Roxanne Sloane’s life runs on checklists. As co-owner of a game store fresh off the brink of closing, she’s focused on spreadsheets, market research, and keeping Love & Games in the public eye. When Rox agrees to a televised interview, she doesn’t expect to learn the store’s crowd-funding account was compromised or that the news station has arranged a complimentary audit. She definitely doesn’t expect comfort from her co-owner’s player brother.

Murphy Sikes is many things—a handsome doctor, an overprotective brother, and a serial dater. Beyond casual hookups, he can’t separate settling from settling down. So, when he visits the store and finds Rox with a smooth-talking auditor, Murph’s confused—his inconvenient attraction for his sister’s friend is joined by a not-at-all-brotherly tenderness. It’s definitely not jealousy when he invites her to trivia night…

With each battle of wits, their undeniable chemistry weakens their willpower to remain platonic. But Murph’s unconvinced he’ll check all her boxes, and Rox questions if he’ll ever settle down. Can they overcome their trivial hang-ups and finally win at love?

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Meet the Author:

Mia Heintzelman is a polka-dot-wearing, horror movie lover, who always has a book and a to-do list in her purse. When she isn’t busy writing fictional happily-ever-afters, she is likely reading, or playing board games and eating sweets with her husband and two children. She writes fun, unforgettable, more than just laughs romcoms about strong women and men with enough heart to fall for them.
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