Title: My Fake Canadian Wife
Author: M. Hollis
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: January 7, 2019
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 25600
Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, lesbian, student, waitress, photographer, holidays, immigrant, Brazil, Canada, fake marriage
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Synopsis
When Dora receives a letter from the immigration service in Canada saying she will be deported soon, as her visa is expiring, a friend suggests she marry a woman. Since she doesn’t currently have a girlfriend, faking a relationship might be her only option since she can’t muster the desire to return to school for advanced photograph studies.Abby is a reserved librarian who seems enthusiastic about helping with the marriage plan. As the two girls get to know each other through dates in snowy Toronto and meeting Abby’s family for Christmas, Dora starts to wonder how much of this relationship they are faking and how much is real.
Excerpt
My Fake Canadian Wife
M. Hollis © 2019
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
My hands shook around the letter, the
words blurring before my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. Almost
two years living in Toronto, without any complications, and now I received
notice I was going to be deported. Thrown out of the place I was learning to
love as my own. And honestly? I was to blame for missing the expiration date on
my student visa.
Now, I had to race against time to
legalize my immigrant status, or I’d have to go back to Brazil. To a home I
barely thought about anymore.
I sat on the couch, letting the letter
fall to my lap. I was screwed. Completely screwed.
My roommate, Julie, came out of her
room, stopping in her tracks to give me a curious glance. “Geez, you look like
someone died,” she said. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
When I didn’t say anything, Julie gave
up and walked to the kitchen. I heard mugs being moved around and cupboards
opening and closing. A few seconds later, she came back, a small frown creasing
her forehead.
Julie was a cute tomcat bisexual girl
who was into indie movies, the ones with barely any dialogue, where one watched
people live through a vintage faded screen. Some of them were actually nice, if
one was in the right mood to understand its meaning behind the many layers of
subtext.
Technically, the apartment we shared
belonged to her. She was the rich kid of a famous Canadian producer, and her
mother was a well-known director in the Toronto film community, so her family
paid for most of her expenses. Or, well, now our living conditions. I couldn’t
really complain since I had a bedroom to myself, a cozy living room, and a
kitchen large enough for more than two people to move around comfortably.
What more could a girl like me ask for
in life?
Right, citizenship.
“Okay, please tell me no one actually
died,” Julie said, her bangs falling in front of her dark eyes.
I shook my head, finally coming back to
myself and jumped from the couch. “I need to go to work.”
“Well, you can still get there in time.”
And then Julie was back to her morning coffee rituals.
I had a life to take care of. This
situation wasn’t going to fix itself if I sat around, missed work, and stared
at this letter all day. I moved quickly, shoved the letter into my backpack
before grabbing my keys and my bike helmet.
“Have a good day!” Julie said from the
kitchen as I opened the door. “And be careful with the traffic.”
I rolled my eyes at her worry. Julie had
been struck by a car last year when she was biking around the city, and now she
believed bicycles were monsters from hell, instead of realizing drivers can be
the real assholes. She even tried to get rid of my red beauty, but I obviously
didn’t let her touch my baby.
“Don’t worry! You have a good day too,”
I said as I closed the door behind me.
Racing down the stairs, I almost tripped
over someone. I took a step back, cursing to myself when I caught a glimpse of
dark blonde hair. It was our neighbor from downstairs, Carol.
“Hi, Dora,” Carol said with a sly smile.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.”
She played with her hair in a
flirtatious way, leaning closer. I tried to get past her, but she was quicker
and trapped me against the wall.
So maybe I had slept with our super-hot
neighbor when I had just moved in and desperately needed to get laid. I still
regretted the decision. Not that the sex was bad, but Carol didn’t seem to get
the message that casual sex with her wasn’t something I was going to make a
habit of.
I pushed past her to gain a little
breathing space. “You know how it is. Super busy with work and life.”
Carol’s mouth formed a little pout. “If
you ever have free time, you know where to find me. I’m right under you.” She
winked at me and waved before saying, “Bye, bye,” and walked the last steps to
her floor, swaying her hips suggestively.
I blinked a few times, trying to bring
myself back to reality. Work. I needed to get to work. I ran the last steps,
opened the garage door, grabbed my bike, and left the building.
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