He was tall, red-headed, and at our first meeting at least, a virgin. He was, in fact, the perfect man.     That he was fictional hardly entered into it...   On the cusp of thirty, Emma Sheridan is desperately in need of a change. After a string of failed relationships, she can admit that no man has ever lived up to her idea of perfection: the Scottish fictional star of romantic fantasies the world over—James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.   Her ideal man might be ripped from the pages of a book, but Emma hopes that by making one life-altering decision she might be able to turn fiction into fact. After selling all her worldly possessions, Emma takes off for Scotland with nothing but her burgeoning travel blog to confide in.   But as she scours the country’s rolling green hills and crumbling castles, Emma discovers that in searching for her own Jamie Fraser, she just might find herself.

    Still, single mom and ice skating coach Chris Nelson is committed to keeping her sexy, scruffy, new “house husband” around. After all, she did break his arm…and his toe…and she can’t just turn him out into the cold…It seemed like luck when this gorgeous stranger first stopped to help Chris with her car, but suddenly her peaceful life turns topsy-turvy as tender, long-suffering Ken Callahan enlists the sympathies of her 7-year-old daughter and her meddlesome Aunt Edna. And even Chris can’t deny the excitement his magnetic blue-black eyes spark deep within her…But who is he?

    Throw in a gig as a phone sex operator, an unexpected hunk of a boyfriend, and a client's murder, and you have all the ingredients for the perfect chick lit romp. Even bloggers at Trashionista just had to read it: "A fabulous book.” Shy, funny, loveable Emily’s a pretty unlikely candidate for a phone sex operator. She’d die if she had to talk dirty face-to-face—especially to her hot cop boyfriend. She sure didn’t set out to do phone sex—she wanted to be a writer. But when her BFF framed her for plagiarism, she got in a tiny financial hole and saw this ad for “phone actresses”… Hey, it’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. No pantyhose or pantsuits, no regular hours, you’re your own boss, and lots of people to talk to. Guys, that is. But here’s the odd thing—lots of them want to talk about more than Emily’s imagined attributes; they start to think of her as the best friend they’ll never have to meet. Next thing you know, one of her customers gets killed. What’s a phone kitten to do? Solve the murder herself, of course! “Phone Kitten was a fun debut read with an interesting premise and some great characters – excellent chick lit.” -The Brazen Bookworm “Marika Christian's debut novel was one of the most fun reads I have had this year. Sweet Emily taking a job as a 'phone actress' has to be one of the funniest things ever.” -Just Jump A fun, refreshing treat for fans of Jennifer Crusie, Janet Evanovich, and Stephanie Bond, Phone Kitten is your ticket to hours of giggles—so long as you’re not looking for raunch. Because this is so not it! “When I first heard of this book I was intrigued; a phone-sex worker turned sleuth? Sounds like the perfect mix...a fabulous book. --Trashionista Excerpt: The girl who answered the phone sounded a lot like me. She was perky, upbeat, and wanted me to come in that night for an interview. The thought terrified me, but my only other option was Walmart. I heard Walmart locks employees in the store. I've often wondered what would happen if one of the employees were pregnant and went into labor while locked up. Would they let her out? Would her supervisor deliver the baby in housewares and slap a little smiley face sticker on the baby's bottom? Phone sex had to be better than twenty-four hour retail. The company name was Dimensions. Located in the back of an industrial park, it was a little scary. There was a gravel parking lot with a dozen cars and only one door with a camera to capture anyone who pressed the call button. I was buzzed in immediately. I wondered, Why does a phone sex place need this much security? I was met by Taylor, the bubbly girl I talked to on the phone. “Come on, I'll take you in the back and we can talk.” She wasn't what I pictured. Taylor was a tattooed Goth chick, with every piercing imaginable. Taylor isn't what most people envisioned when it came to “bubbly.” Once we were in her office, she quickly closed the door. “Look, we talk dirty here. The language is sexually explicit. You have to say it all. Tits, cock, and fuck. Can you do that?” “Yes.” There, I said it. I said I could do it. I hoped I really could. She whipped out a headset, plugged it in, and said, “I want you to listen to a call.