M. Allison Good

Before upending their lives, most folks require some sort of threshold moment to occur. Then epiphany follows, and yada yada, off they go. Well, call me a simple gal, because I didn’t need any of that. All it took for me was a hangover and a slight wardrobe malfunction.

Actually, there’d been too many hangovers lately. Or dirty mornings, as I’d come to call them.

So there I was, making my way into the cubicle farm that one dirty morning. On the heels of yet another bad breakup, with a head full of tumbleweed, and a heart full of thistles & thorns, I looked down to realize I was wearing mismatched shoes. And that was it. I was done.

I traded in my cubicle walls for a cruise ship, set sail for Europe, and spent the next few years completely and utterly rudderless.

From Bath to Bali

From Key West to Croatia

From Memphis to Montenegro

On and on it went…

Searching, seeking, skinny dipping, soaking in vodka, and figuratively slip punching my way through a series of selfish men.  Some may call it self-discovery, but I call it all a beautiful shambles.

Dream job (photographer) ✔️

Dream home (L.A.) ✔️

Dream man (musician) ✔️

Yep, life is suddenly coming up aces for Allie Trask. Ever since she relocated to L.A. from N.C. it seems she can’t lose.

Until the day she arrives home to find seven raven-haired strangers in her living room. They won’t give their real names, her boyfriend—usually a force to reckon with, won’t make eye contact, and Allie’s arm hair won’t lie flat. All in all, something just ain’t right.

Worse than that, she soon discovers. Strange, the strangers may be, but human they are not, and their true intention is to eliminate her beloved.

Stepping way out of her comfort zone, and using the only weapons available to her on short notice— sex, drugs, rock & roll, taser guns, and stripper poles, she must go after the seven sinful creatures one by one, and prove that behind her sweet southern charms, it is she who is the true force to reckon with.