I’m a walking contradiction.
School principal who liberally drops the F bomb.
Fiercely independent yet willing to auction myself off for charity.
Serial monogamist who’s down for a no-strings one-night stand.

Except now I’ve gone from one-working-ovary to co-parent in the time it took a stick to turn blue.

F. Bomb.

Ian Donovan may be a richer-than-hell venture capitalist, but he’s no Prince Charming ready to sweep me off my feet. Good thing I don’t need him. I’ve been doing fine on my own for forty years, and I’m not about to start changing that now.

Ultrasounds, swollen feet, midnight cravings? Bring. It. On.

But why is it when you finally swear off men, you meet one who’s too sexy—and determined we can make it work?

F. Bomb.