NOW A NETFLIX ORIGINAL FILM! When a soldier with a troubled past and a struggling songwriter agree to get married for the military benefits, neither expects much after saying “I do.” What happens when a marriage of convenience is anything but? Cassie Salazar and Luke Morrow couldn’t be more different. Sharp-witted Cassie works nights at a bar in Austin to make ends meet while pursuing her dream of becoming a singer/songwriter. Luke is an Army trainee, about to ship out for duty, who finds comfort in the unswerving discipline of service. But a chance encounter at Cassie’s bar changes the course of both their lives, and within forty-eight hours this unlikely pair finds themselves husband and wife. How did that happen? Cassie is drowning in medical bills after being diagnosed with diabetes. When she runs into her old friend Frankie, now enlisted in the Army, she proposes a deal: she’ll marry him in exchange for better medical insurance and they can split the increased paycheck that comes with having a “family.” When Frankie declines, his attractive but frustratingly intense friend Luke volunteers to marry Cassie instead. What she doesn’t know is that he has desperate reasons of his own to get married. In this unforgettable love story, Cassie and Luke must set aside their differences to make it look like a real marriage...unless, somewhere along the way, it becomes one... "When I laughed at loud at Tess Wakefield's wit on page three of PURPLE HEARTS, I knew this was a book I would love. With complex and compassionately drawn characters facing all-too-real problems, Wakefield has created a uniquely affecting love story about two people so deeply human you'd almost swear you know them." -- Bethany Chase, bestselling author of THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY "Wonderfully true and surprising, with modern, complex and fascinating characters." -- Sarah Pekkanen, internationally bestselling author of THE PERFECT NEIGHBORS Best Books of the Month ― Liz & Lisa "I found myself not wanting this novel to end. I would definitely recommend this novel to readers who enjoy Nicholas Sparks, Jojo Moyes, and other contemporary romance novels." ― The Blonde Bookworm "A good, romantic take on some very modern challenges!" ― A Bookish Affair "Rec it? Yes! Even though I am desperate for an epilogue, I still would recommend this to anyone who loves their brooding military hero, especially one who has worked so hard to redeem himself." ― The Book Hookup "If you're looking for a book that will tug on your heartstrings and one that is filled with an unlikely romance which will have you swooning, definitely check out PURPLE HEARTS this summer. It would be the perfect read for a lazy summer day or a relaxing day at the beach." ― Confessions of a Book Addict "PURPLE HEARTS is every bit real and tangible. It's a story you can't walk away from, yet you're breaking into pieces the deeper you read. My only objection is that I wanted more. More of Cassie, more of Luke. More of their lives intertwined together. It's a slow burn, a sizzle, a spark, a big gush of wind threatening to blow you away." ― G Reads When not producing fiction for young readers, Tess Wakefield works in Golden Valley, Minnesota as a copywriter, an amateur comedian, and a caretaker for several thriving plants. Purple Hearts is her first novel for adults. Purple Hearts Cassie Today, August 2, at 5:34 p.m. on the South Congress Bridge, also known as the South Congress parking lot, I accepted my true form. The windows of the Subaru were down, Queen’s Greatest Hits was at full blast, and this was it, I was no longer a woman shackled to a cubicle, I was a bandleader, scream-singing with Freddie Mercury. The cars ahead were braking. I followed suit, holding out my hand to make sure the box on my front seat didn’t slide. Inside was a picture of my mom and me at Disneyland when I was five, a coffee mug with David Bowie’s face emblazoned on it, and three stale granola bars I found buried under some old depositions. My personal effects. A half hour ago, my boss, Beth, had called me into her office. She’d reached over and taken my hand, the slime of her lime-scented lotion rubbing my palm, and fired me. I’d looked down at my thighs sticking out of my boxy navy dress, my cheap ballet flats, and felt this odd buoyancy. It was the feeling I got every single day at five, walking through the parking lot, but magnified ten times. Like at some point, I’d hear the clap of a director’s slate and everything in Beth’s office would get brighter under studio lights and someone would yell, “Okay, that’s a wrap on paralegal! Nice work, Cassie.” And that was today. I had walked off the set to start my real life, hopefully one that involved not just car singing. Despite the fact that Beth’s drawn-out, fake-sympathetic “I wish I didn’t have to do this” speech had made me late for my second—now only—job, I had already realized being laid off from Jimenez, Gustafson, and Moriarty