From the author of The Personal Librarian , three Los Angeles women who’ve helped each other overcome heartbreak are reunited eight years later when their troublesome exes come back into the picture in this follow up to Victoria Christopher Murray’s bestselling novel The Ex Files . Sheridan, Kendall, and Asia first bonded when they met seven years ago at a church prayer support group and now, their friendship has blossomed into a strong sisterhood. They've helped each other through the tragedies of their breakups and together, they've celebrated their triumphs. But now, their exes are back, wreaking havoc on lives they've work so hard to rebuild. Sheridan has found love again after her ex-husband left her for a man. But old wounds are reopened when her ex-husband appears with his fiancée—a woman! And all of Sheridan's insecurities and doubts come rushing back. Kendall's former husband is now married to Kendall's sister, Sabrina. And though Kendall has refused to interact with either one in the last seven years, she's forced to reunite with Sabrina when their father is diagnosed with cancer. Asia has done her best to move away from her married boyfriend, a former star with the LA Lakers. But when they share a kiss, old desires are rekindled and Asia decides that it's time for her and Bobby Johnson to get back together again. With her trademark writing that “has the kind of momentum that prompts you to elbow disbelief aside and flip the pages in horrified enjoyment” ( The Washington Post ), Forever an Ex is Murray's best novel yet. Victoria Christopher Murray is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty novels, including Stand Your Ground , a Library Journal Best Book of the Year and NAACP Image Award Winner. Her novel, The Personal Librarian , which she cowrote with Marie Benedict was a Good Morning America Book Club pick. Visit her website at VictoriaChristopherMurray.com. Forever An Ex Chapter One Whoever said that a kiss was just a kiss had never kissed Bobby Johnson. He had kissed me again. Seven days ago. On Christmas. And, I’m telling you, I saw stars. Now, maybe it wasn’t that Bobby was all that great a kisser. Maybe it had more to do with him being the love of my life, at least until 2007 when he’d made the stupid mistake of breaking up with me and going back to his wife. That Christmas kiss had stayed in my heart and on my mind. When I was awake, I thought about it and every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed about it. Just like now. My body was trying to wake up, but I was floating in unconsciousness. You know, that place where your eyes are wide shut—you’re half awake, half asleep. I was holding on to the sleep part because I wanted to keep dreaming about that kiss. My lips were right up against Bobby’s and it was so deliciously good. So good that I started hearing bells—no, not bells, my ears were ringing. But then . . . the ringing kept on and on and on, messing up my dream flow. Dang! That was nothin’ but my cell phone, and I was pissed. Who would call somebody so early on New Year’s Day? Not that I knew the exact time, but if I hadn’t already eaten breakfast, then it was too early for somebody to be hitting me up. My first thought was to let my cell ring. But my eleven-year-old daughter, Angel, had spent the night with Monet, her best friend, so I had to answer . . . just in case. So right before the call went to my voice mail, I grabbed my cell from the nightstand. Without even opening my eyes, I mumbled, “This had better be good.” “What’s up, Asia?” My eyes popped right open. “Happy New Year!” I pushed myself up, tugging the sheet along to cover my nakedness. “Uh . . . good morning. Happy New Year to you, too, Bobby,” I said to my ex, my daughter’s daddy, the Adonis of my dreams. “I guess I woke you up.” “No.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to look decent, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like we were Face-­Timing or anything. “I’m glad you called.” “Yeah, I remembered that little superstition you had about a man calling your house first on New Year’s.” He remembered that? “So, I hope that I was the first.” “You are. And now I’ll be blessed for the whole year.” He chuckled. “That’s what I wish for you.” Then, a moment of silence. I needed something profound to say that would keep Bobby talking. But before I could come up with anything . . . a moan. And not just a regular moan . . . a loud, long, masculine moan that stretched through time and my bedroom . . . and went right through my cell phone, too. Dang! I thought, looking down at the body next to me. “Oh,” Bobby said. “You have company. I should’ve known. Last night being New Year’s Eve . . .” “No, I don’t,” I said as I kicked through the tangled sheets until I was free and away from Rocco. I had on not a stitch of clothing, but I didn’t care. I jumped out of my bed and jogged straight into the hallway. “That was . . .