Hate Notes by Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward
November 6, 2018
Amazon | Audible
I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Holy crap do I love a good Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward book! This dynamic duo create magic together!
When I first read the synopsis for Hate Notes, I knew this was going to be book that I would be able to just devour! It has a very intriguing premise of the heroine finding a ‘blue note’ in a wedding dress at a resale shop that just automatically pulled me in.
I absolutely fell in love with Charlotte, our heroine. She’s spunky and quirky and just full of life. Honestly? I want to be her when I grow up. She is a persona to inspire to. There is not one negative trait about her. She take everything thrown at her and turns lemons into lemonade. She doesn’t let anything stop her from continuing to push forward.
I thought it might take a while to warm up to our hero, Reed, but really didn’t. I think having his voice helped with that so that you see him being hot and cold with Charlotte from his point-of-view. I think the character is written to come off pretty harsh when reading the scenes between him and Charlotte but I couldn’t help but to keep rooting for him.
This book took ripped a lot of emotions out of me. I would be laughing hysterically in one chapter, biting my nails in anxiety in the next followed by being on the edge of tears.
Overall – this is an amazing read. I highly recommend you one clicking and giving it a chance. Even if you have never read these authors before – you will not be disappointed!
Grabbing my laptop, I searched my history and called up the last website I’d visited.
Eastwood Properties is one of the largest independent brokerage firms in the world. We connect the most prestigious and exclusive properties with qualified buyers, assuring the utmost privacy for both parties. Whether you’re in the market for a lux-ury New York City penthouse with a view of the park, a waterfront Hampton estate, or an enchanting chateau escape in the mountains, or you’re ready for your own pri-vate island, Eastwood is where your dreams begin.
There was a link to search properties, so I typed in the name of the place the woman had mentioned in the voice mail: Millennium Tower. Sure enough, the penthouse popped up for sale. For only twelve million dollars, I could own an apartment on Columbus Ave-nue with sweeping views of Central Park. Let me write you a check.
After drooling through a video and two dozen photos, I clicked on the button to make an appointment to view the property. An application popped up, the top of which read: For the privacy and safety of our sellers, all prospective buyers are required to complete an application to view properties. Only buyers that meet our stringent prequalification criteria will be contacted.
I snorted. Great prequalification criteria you have there, Eastwood. I wasn’t sure I had enough money to take the train uptown to get to that swanky place, much less buy it. God knows what I’d written that had qualified me.
I closed the website and was just about to shut my laptop and go back to bed again when I decided to take one more peek at Mr. Romantic on Facebook.
God, he was gorgeous.
What if . . .
No good ever came out of ideas formulated while drunk.
But . . .
That face . . .
And that note.
So romantic. So beautiful.
Plus . . . I’d never seen the inside of a twelve-million-dollar penthouse.
I really shouldn’t.
Then again . . . I’d spent the last two years doing everything I should do. And where had that gotten me?
Right here. It’d gotten me right damn here—hungover and unemployed, sitting in this crappy apartment. Maybe it was time I did the things I shouldn’t be doing for a change. I picked up my phone and let my finger hover over the “Call Back” button for a while.
No one would ever know. It could be fun—getting all dressed up and playing the part of a rich Upper West Sider while satisfying my curiosity about the man. What harm was there?
None that I could think of. Still, you know what they say about curiosity . . .
I pressed “Call Back.”
“Hi. This is Charlotte Darling calling to confirm an appointment with Reed Eastwood . . .”