About the Book
Doppelbanger by Heather M. Orgeron Doppelbanger; A person who bangs someone solely because they look similar to another person
Published on May 3, 2018
Cover Designer: Jersey Girl, Juliana Cabrera
they want to bang.
At thirty-five, Gina Bourque is still playing the field. If he’s single, in his early twenties with dark hair
and brooding eyes, there’s a damn good chance you’ll find him in her little black book.
Jeffrey Ryan never imagined that at nearly forty he’d find himself widowed and a single dad. But
here he is—stumbling through this thing called life with two impressionable daughters watching his
When Gina and Jeffrey meet while cruising the Caribbean, sparks fly and not in a good way. He’s too
old. Too blond. Too stiff. Yet she’s still drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She’s too vulgar. Too
sassy. Too wild. But she ignites something inside of him he can’t ignore.
We all know what happens when you play with fire. . . someone’s bound to get burned.
Doppelbanger; A person who bangs someone solely because they look similar to another person
“How’d I know you were gonna take me to a strip club?” She shrugs her creamy white shoulders. “Must be finally figuring out how awesome I am.”
Tink grabs my arm, pulling me toward the door to the Hustler Club.
“Come on, stiffy. Let’s go see some titty-tons.”
After paying our covers and the additional fees for VIP, I follow Gina inside. The first thing I notice is how much nicer this place is than any strip club I’ve ever been to with the guys. Not that I’ve been to very many. Just for a couple of my buddies’ bachelor parties.
It’s not really my thing.
Or, it wasn’t.
While I enjoy a nice pair of tits as much as the next guy, it was always a little uncomfortable knowing Jess was back home stressing over the fact that I was there.
Not that I could blame her.
I certainly wouldn’t have been okay if she were the one out watching men take off their clothes.
“I can do that.” Tink points to the stripper that we just saw dancing on the stage downstairs when we walked in who is now spinning around the top of the stripper pole which extends all the way up to the ceiling on the second floor.
“Why does that not surprise me?” I lean in close and still have to shout to be heard over the loud music.
“I was never a stripper, Jeffrey.” She drags me over to the railing for a closer look. “It looked like fun, so I took lessons.”
“You have too much time on your hands.”
About the author