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New York Times Bestselling Author

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The Players Club Volume 1

Title: The Players Club Volume 1
Series: The Players Club Series #1
Release Date: January 15, 2018

also in this series:

Ollie and Poppy, day 2! They are both like, "who d

Ollie and Poppy, day 2! They are both like, "who dat?" hahahahaha 🤪

Poppy and Ollie are getting to know each other!

Poppy and Ollie are getting to know each other!

First morning with Poppy! She's loving on her new

First morning with Poppy! She's loving on her new toy! She and Ollie are still feeling each other out, but no fights so that's good! #minigoldendoodle #newpuppy #cutepuppy #puppy

Ollie is going to be a big brother! We're picking

Ollie is going to be a big brother! We're picking up Poppy tomorrow! Sooo excited!! #minigoldendoodle #newpuppy

Out now! We meet every week and I don't even know

Out now! We meet every week and I don't even know his name! Will you be able to guess all the secrets? #newrelease #jscooper #feelslikefalling #romancebook #bookstagram #romancereadersofinstagram

First time watercolor painting in months. Had a gr

First time watercolor painting in months. Had a great time in a Zoom painting session last night with my friend Thao!! We attempted our version of Monet's The Poppy Field near Argenteuil. It's so nice to have a hobby again. Going to attempt to practice every day.

Coming in just a few days...⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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We meet once or twice a week at a hotel in the bad part of town. It's not someplace I would normally go, but for him, I do. I don't know his name and he doesn't know mine. I don't know his age. I don't know where he lives. I don't know what he does for a job, and I don't care. Well, that's a little bit of a lie. I want to know. But if I know, then he has to know about me and that's something I can't afford to share. I can't tell him my name. I can't tell him where I live. I can't tell him what I do for a living, and I certainly can't tell him how much I love the roughness of his hands and the softness of his lips. He’s my dangerous mistake and no-one would ever call him a Prince Charming, but I don’t care. Once or twice a week, for a few hours a night, he’s mine and I’m his and that’s all that’s keeping me going right now.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I'm sure you're wondering, "If you don't know his name and you don't know where he comes from, how did you meet?" That's a story you won't quite believe. You see when I think about our first meeting, I can hardly believe it myself. It’s almost like I dreamed him into being. Though the way my thighs ache tells me that he’s not a dream.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
There are nights when I'm restless and I like to go down to the old train station on 10th street. It's a desolate place. Trains don't stop there anymore, but they still have two wooden benches facing the old tracks and one big weeping willow that sits to the left of the benches. I'll go down to the benches and I'll just sit there and look up at the sky and stare at the stars. There's not much artificial light there, so you can see the sky in all its beautiful glory. There’s something awe-inspiring about looking at the stars. It reminds you that there’s a whole huge galaxy out there, that we know nothing about. It reminds you that in relative terms, you and your problems are nothing. The stars provide me peace.

Was just looking through my phone and came across

Was just looking through my phone and came across these photos. I wonder what we would have been doing today if you were still alive. I sit here in this house surrounded by your stuff and it is still surreal. I can still clearly remember that final day. It plays over and over in my mind. I miss you, mum! 🥰

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