Aaron Adams Facebook ad: “Addictive Romance Novels, Read Right Now”

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At Isolde’s wedding, her husband Tucker’s best friend, Sloane, suggested they play a game. She tied a ribbon around Isolde and gave it a hard yank. A ribbon marked “$5,000” was knotted onto her. Isolde’s wedding dress slipped, nearly exposing her. “I’m putting up five grand to buy off her stubbornness,” Sloane announced. “For insisting on marrying Tucker.” Tucker just laughed and sent the money. Sloane threw the transfer confirmation up on the big screen. Isolde’s hands clenched as a wave of guests surged toward her. She opened her mouth to refuse. “Sloane’s just livening things up,” Tucker murmured in her ear. “Don’t make it weird.” Isolde froze. Once, Sloane had stuffed balloons under her shirt to fake a pregnancy, tricking Isolde into listening for a “heartbeat” with a stethoscope. Then she’d popped the balloon right next to her ear. The blast had left Isolde with temporary hearing loss. Tucker had said it was hilarious. The night of their engagement party, Sloane had deliberately abandoned a drunk Isolde on the curb outside a bar. Tucker had said that was hilarious, too. In Tucker’s eyes, everything Sloane did was just for fun. The guests started competing to tie ribbons to the hem of her gown. One of them held up a ribbon and shouted. “I’ll do thirty grand! For her having the nerve to marry an asshole like you!” “If you send that money, the wedding is off.” Isolde’s voice was ice as she looked at Tucker. Tucker frowned. “Everyone’s just having fun, sweetheart. Don’t start.” Sloane chimed in from the side. “Yeah. This is getting boring.” A second later, a phone notification chimed. A thirty-thousand-dollar transfer flashed across the giant screen. The room erupted. And just like that, Isolde didn’t want to argue anymore. Sloane was right. All of this, from beginning to end, was painfully boring. … “The game begins now!” The moment Sloane made the announcement, the crowd rushed forward. Isolde lunged for the emcee’s microphone. “Don’t touch me! The wedding is off.” But the mic was dead. She looked up at Tucker. He’d already signaled the sound tech to cut her mic. He offered a placating smile, then took two steps back to stand beside Sloane. Hands grabbed at her wedding dress, tying ribbon after ribbon onto the delicate fabric. That sharp ringing started in her ears again. Yesterday, Sloane had tricked her family and friends into traveling to some remote spot on Long Island with no cell service, all under the guise of a “pre-wedding surprise.” Now, there wasn’t a single person here who could help her. All because Sloane thought it would be more dramatic this way. *Rip.* In the chaos, someone wasn’t just tying ribbons. They were yanking at her dress. Isolde snapped back to reality and stumbled backward, shouting at the crowd, “Stop! The wedding is off! I’m calling the police!” The room fell quiet for a split second. The person who had been pulling at her dress froze. Sloane immediately laughed, smoothing it over. “The bride’s just joking! Whoever’s challenge was just accepted, come collect your prize from the groom.” She looped an arm around Tucker’s neck, half-hanging off him as she waved at the crowd. Tucker was smiling, his eyes full of silent approval. The guest hesitated, but still stepped forward. The moment the transfer confirmation chimed, the crowd surged at Isolde again. Very quickly, she had nowhere left to retreat. Her voice was drowned out by the shouting. Too many hands were on her. The layers of her dress began to disappear. “Tucker!” She wrapped her arms around herself, her voice raw with desperation. Through the mob, Tucker saw the shredded scraps of the gown scattered across the floor, and the smile finally left his face. “That’s enough.” But the crowd didn’t stop right away. “I said, *enough*.” This time, they slowly backed away. Most of the crinoline under Isolde’s dress had been torn to pieces. Someone laughed under thei......

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