Dirty Little Secrets. Kierney Scott
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Exclusive: The scandal that will rock the White House to its very core.
Ben McCoy is the Vice-Presidential candidate with the backing of the entire nation. His wife, Megan, is as close as she’ll ever be to living the American Dream – from inside the White House.
Until investigative reporter, James Emerson, comes looking for a story, determined to expose the ruthless ambition, power struggles and sex-scandals rife in Washington DC.
It seems that no matter how careful you are, secrets always leak out. And so now, Megan has a choice: she can do as many First Ladies have done before her, and stand by her man; or she can opt for full disclosure. On the edge of a scandal so sensational it will whip the press into a political frenzy, Megan, for the first time, holds all the cards.
They say all that glitters isn’t gold – but what happens when you realise everything you’ve ever dreamed of isn’t all you hoped it would be...?
Twice in a Lifetime
Dirty Little Secrets
Kierney Scott
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013
Copyright © Kierney Scott 2013
Kierney Scott asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2013 ISBN: 9781472074300
Version date: 2018-07-23
KIERNEY SCOTT
is originally from California, but moved to Scotland to enrol in the PhD programme in Educational Research at the University of Edinburgh. Four days after she arrived, she met her husband, who persuaded her it would be more fun to get married than to write a thesis. After the birth of her daughter she decided it was time to go back to school, but soon she discovered all she wanted to write was romance novels. She admitted her literary proclivities to her husband, who promptly bought her a laptop and told her to start writing her book.
When she is not writing, you will probably find her at a spinning class or baking (read eating) cupcakes. Her butter-cream icing is legendary, if only in her mind. If you want her recipe, or you just want to chat, you can contact her at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter at Kierney Scott @Kierney_S
Contents
Book List
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
About the Publisher
For Alistair because you never seem to mind that I can be a lot like hard work.
And for my Dad because you have taught me so much about integrity.
A special thanks to Shelby Alberts for answering all my legal questions. The accused of Placer County are lucky to have such a brilliant and tenacious person on their side.
Megan McCoy threw her briefcase down on the marble floor of her entryway and swore under her breath as the leather case opened and spilled files across the black and white tiles.
She scrunched her eyes together and pretended not to see the paper avalanche covering her entryway. “Screw it.” She was too tired and annoyed to deal with the mess now. She needed food and drink and lots of it.
She slid out of the torture devices kids these days were calling shoes and went in search of her husband. “Ben, where are you?” She made a beeline for the kitchen. “Why do I not smell roast beef?” she demanded of no one in particular. She opened the oven only to find it empty and cold. “For goodness sake.” That was her night ruined. Thursday was roast beef night; she adhered to a positively virtuous diet six days a week, but Thursdays were for red meat and carbohydrates.
From the living room she heard the whining strings of violins followed by the rich alto of Etta James. “Damn it.” Ben was listening to ‘At Last’ again, his break-up song, his life-is-not-worth-living-I-will-never-find-love song. And she had to deal with it without roast beef. The prospect of dinner was the only thing that had got her through her day in court. Beef and roast potatoes covered in artery-clogging gravy were all that had kept her from climbing into the witness box and punching the defendant in his tattooed throat.
She took a deep breath and fought