About The Book
Is life better when you’re beautiful?
Jane Johnson has tried every beauty tip and trick known to woman, but none of them have ever made men notice her.
Finally, something is working. She barely recognizes herself in the mirror. Is it her new haircut? Two years of yoga class? Her new eyebrow tweeze? Or is it all that nasty wheat grass juice her sister insisted she drink finally working some kind of magic? Whatever it is, something is transforming Jane from plain to downright beautiful.
For the first time in her life, men are noticing her.
Jane is getting so much attention from men she doesn’t know what to do with it.
Before her inexplicable transformation, she couldn’t get a date to save her life. Now she has a date every night of the week. Gorgeous eligible men are throwing themselves at her. They’re even fighting over her. Actual fist fights to win her affection.
It all seems too good to be true.
The only question on Jane’s mind is whether or not her newfound beauty is going to last or if it’s some cruel trick of fate that will fade away as quickly as it appeared.
Because everybody knows, when something seems too good to be true, it probably is.
***If I Were Beautiful is a saucy romance with a mystical twist that will leave you breathless to find out what happens next. This is book one of a three book series. Book two will release April 2017, Book three, July 2017 (or sooner).
Devon Hartford is a dude who writes romantic comedies because he likes to laugh as much as he likes to love.
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I had just gone insane.
Or had a stroke.
Or maybe I was still asleep.
Whatever it was, there was no rational explanation for what I saw in the mirror.
Not pudgy little me with bad hair.
Some supermodel I didn’t recognize.
I blinked several times.
But I still saw the supermodel.
I was hallucinating.
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed them until I saw stars. Then I opened them.
Still seeing a supermodel.
Long flowing blonde hair, a bit messy and bedish, but it was silky and shiny gold and looked good enough for a photo on a box of hair dye.
A finely shaped face with high cheekbones, trim nose, wide full mouth and lush lips. Her lashes were naturally thick. When she smiled, she had perfectly straight white teeth.
The supermodel was taller than my five foot nothing. If I had to guess, I’d say she was almost 5’9” with long and slender arms and legs and an hourglass figure.
Then it hit me. I was looking through a window at another person. It was the only thing that made sense.
So I stuck my head slowly out my bathroom door to see if the blonde supermodel was standing on the other side of the wall, looking at me through a window. Super Blonde matched my movements exactly and, surprise surprise, she wasn’t standing behind the wall in my hallway.
Back in front of the mirror, I scratched my head for a moment and Super Blonde did too.
Wait, wait, wait.
I wasn’t wearing my glasses. I was just imagining all this. The brain can be like that. Wishful thinking and that sort of thing. Probably left over hallucination from my crazy five day flu.
I walked into my bedroom and found my glasses on the nightstand where I always left them before bed. I put them on.
I couldn’t see!
My glasses really hurt my eyes.
I yanked them off and looked at them. Were these my glasses? They seemed like it. Was it an old pair? Maybe that was it. I put them on again. My entire bedroom squiggled and vibrated and had this magnified quality that made me nauseous. I took them off and searched through my desk for a different pair. Put those on. Same thing. They hurt my eyes too. I went back in the bathroom with my glasses and put them on in front of the mirror. Same result. They hurt my eyes and blurred everything, so I set them on the counter.
Had someone given me LASIK while I was asleep?
I’d think about that later because one thing remained the same, whether I had my glasses on or off.
I was the blonde supermodel in the mirror.