• The first time Greta saw Ben, she knew he was the one. Knew it like fire knows tinder.

    She hadn’t planned to go to the party, but her college roommate, Amber, convinced her. Greta couldn’t believe how easy it was to get in. It seemed like they threw frat parties just so girls like her would come. But she was pretty now, and everything was different. No one knew anything about her ugly duckling past or all the darkness before.  It was a whole new world, a brand new start.

    Then she saw Blake and knew he was her destiny. But he saw Amber first. And he got…confused. Blake was her soul mate. She could tell. She knew all about soul mates.

    Too bad about her last one.

    BOYFRIEND GLASSES is the first book in a trilogy of dark psychological thrillers perfect for fans of THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY or GONE GIRL. Scroll down to read the first chapter.

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Chapter 1

TODAY, 7:52 PM

Some people say there’s no such thing as love at first sight. They’re wrong.

The first time I saw Blake … well, it was like his heart was a magnet and mine was molten nickel. I could feel the fire of it singe my skin as it left my body. I could see its hot cord twining orange out of my chest, melting its way directly toward his. When our hearts met, they fused. Mine wrapped around his, holding him forever.

I knew it was love because the first time I saw him, the very first time, Blake did something no one else had ever done before. Blake made me forget all about Johnny.

We were at a geeks/Greeks party at the Sigma Phi Upsilon house before I knew to call it SigUp. It was the first real party of many that night, the first party night of the year. We were drunk on freedom and electric with high expectations for our future. Walking in there with Amber like we belonged, like it was no big deal, like they threw parties just so girls like us would come? It made me feel wild and alive for the first time since Johnny. It was everything I hoped college would be. It was everything high school wasn’t.

Blake was … all Blake. There’s no other way to say it. There’s no other way to define all the little parts that add up to him being him—his confident smile, his body tall and statuesque, the absolute command he had of the whole room. Dark hair and tan skin and eyes like peridot: green and shimmering and endless. He was all Blake.

Every single girl in the room was looking at him. Every single one. Why wouldn’t they? He was perfect.

But Blake didn’t pay attention to any of them. He knew what he wanted, and he knew he would get it. And what he wanted was me. Right from the beginning. He could feel me there, in that room, feel our connection just like I could.

But he saw Amber first. And he got confused.

He walked right up to her like I wasn’t even there. He didn’t say a word, just held her eyes and took her hand and led her into a corner. Everyone stared as he took his fake black glasses off and put them on her and kissed her. They looked like the perfect couple. But we would have been better, so much better.

Amber wore those glasses all night, a trophy of his love. Her cornsilk eyelashes brushed against them, every flutter reminding her she was his choice. His.

I wanted to rip those glasses off her face, just to touch something he’d touched.

But I don’t want to anymore. I don’t have to. I’m wearing them right now.

And Amber is dead.