What Books Are Similar To You Started It?

To the world, I’m just Macey Carter. Mason’s little sister. Samantha’s best friend. The girl who somehow landed her dream job as lead designer at Seams & Touch. But inside? I’m someone else entirely. Someone who aches to be broken down and put back together by a man who knows exactly how to use me. Someone who craves submission so badly, it’s like a sickness. My ex never understood. David was too soft, too careful. He wanted to hold hands and make promises, while I wanted to kneel and beg. When he left me, I didn’t fight it. Two years later, I’m twenty-four, single, untouched, and suffocating under the weight of everything I can’t admit out loud. And then there’s Damien Blackwell. My boss’s older brother. Ten years older, sharper, and rougher, with a reputation that makes people whisper when he walks by. I shouldn’t want him. But I do. God, I do. He’s the finest thing I’ve ever seen. I know because I’ve seen all of him—one reckless afternoon when I walked into his office and caught him taking a woman apart on his desk. She looked like she wanted to disappear, like she hated every second of it. And I hated her. Because I would have begged for more. Damien promised his sister he’d stay away from me. He told himself I was too young, too close, and too dangerous. For a while, he believed it. But that ended the night he caught me touching myself in my office, late after hours, knowing he was watching. That’s when everything changed.

No fling! No way! Not now, not ever! Mackenzie Swanson is not having a fling with Wyatt Carlyle! And she has told him so… time and time again. But that's fine with Wyatt. She's not his type anyway. He's a ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am’ kind of guy who believes in true lust, and she's a former virgin who believes in true love. Not a match! Nope! Not suited at all. But after their one seductive night together, Wyatt is strangely hooked. He's prepared to follow this gorgeous virgin anywhere and everywhere. He can't keep his hands off sexy Mackenzie and he can't keep out of her oh-so-tempting bed. So, he's going to prove that what she thinks isn't happening is actually the most passionate fling of his life.

Before I could shove my wife, Cheryl Craig, into the ocean, I turned myself in. The security guard frowned. "What? Are you saying that you're going to kill someone on this cruise?" I nodded. "It's 5:05 p.m. right now. In 20 minutes, I'll push my wife off this cruise ship. You need to arrest me, now." He stared at me like I had lost my mind. "You've got to be kidding! I've never seen anyone confess before the crime." He waved me off and started to walk away, so I had no choice but to start smashing things in the lobby. Only when the cuffs snapped around my wrists did I finally breathe again. In my last life, Cheryl was pushed off this very ship and fell into the ocean. Before I could even finish arranging her funeral, the police came for me. The ship's security footage clearly showed me pushing her overboard, but at that exact time, I was in a room with my father. There was no way I could've done it. I asked my father to testify for me, but he said I had already been planning to kill Cheryl for the insurance money because my company was falling apart. In the end, I was sentenced to death for murder. Even as I faced execution, I still couldn't understand it. I didn't do it, so why did everyone insist that I had? When I opened my eyes again, I was back to before Cheryl fell into the ocean.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

When my dad died, my husband was at the airport—picking up another girl. She looked like me. Only difference? He actually loved her. I was just the stand-in. Three years of marriage? It cost me my dad... and every last shred of self-respect. But at least I finally saw him for who he was. I left the country in a soaked dress. That's when it hit him—what it really meant to lose. "Emily, I was wrong!" "Daniel Wilson, it's too late." Stand-ins don't get love. They get a new beginning.