Calendar Girl

Mia Saunders needs money. A lot of money. She has one year to pay off the loan shark who has threatened her father's life and is coming after his unpaid gambling debts. One million dollars to be exact. Her mission is simple - serve as a high-priced escort for her aunt's Los Angeles-based company and pay monthly against the debt. Spend a month with a rich man whom she doesn't have to sleep with if she doesn't want to? Easy money. Unlucky in love with a spirit that never gives up, this curvy motorcycle-riding vixen plans to get in, make her money, and get out.

A muse. Me. The motorcycle riding, ass-kicking, concert t-shirt wearing chick from Las Vegas, is a world-renowned French artist's muse. For a month.

A fiancée. I'm going to Chicago to pretend to be some Italian Stallion's future wife. Why a massive hunk, boxer, and rich restaurateur needs a fake bride is beyond me. Then again, I'm not paid to know why. I'm paid $100,000 to be his escort, or in this case, the woman he's supposedly "going" to marry.

In April, she poses as girlfriend to philandering Mason Murphy, a professional baseball player who needs a better image, only to find he's not at all what she expected. May finds Mia turning up the heat with Samoan model and fire-dancer Tai Niko as she participates in a swimsuit campaign designed to prove that beauty really does comes in all sizes. Mia rounds out June as the arm candy for Warren Shipley, a member of the wealthy one percenters. Although she's pretending to be a gold-digger, Warren turns out to have a heart of gold.

Baseball, beer, and a hot boy. Nothing can beat that. Until I meet Mason "Mace" Murphy the next "it" pitcher for the Boston Red Sox and my client. He's immature, arrogant, sexy as sin, and the last man that's going to get into my panties. He's not used to hearing the word no from women, so I'm going to spell it out for him.

I headed to the island of Oahu, Hawaii, to meet with cutting-edge swimsuit fashion designer Angel D'Amico, to serve as head model for the "Beauty Comes in All Sizes" swimsuit campaign. The designer wanted to show the world that beauty is not just a size two. My curves got me into this gig, and the moment I laid eyes on my modeling "partner" I'd never been happier with my buxom form.

Looks as though my hot streak ended when Warren Shipley, one of the nation's wealthiest men, hired me to play arm-candy to save face with the other one-percenters he did business with. At least that's what I thought when I arrived in Washington, DC, until I was met by old man Shipley's debonair and insanely handsome son. The Senator from California, Aaron Shipley. Youngest senator in the history of politics, single, beyond rich, and the face of every political magazine around the US.

In July, she serves as the seductress in a music video to platinum selling hip hop artist Anton Santiago. Still dealing with the trauma from June, our girl opens her heart and finds that taking risks in life and love could give her all that she ever needed and more. In August, Mia heads to Texas to put on her acting hat and pretend to be the long lost sister of oil tycoon and big business man Maxwell Cunningham. The job should have been a snap, only secrets are revealed from her past that change everything she knew to be true.

The second half to this year-long journey has taken me to Magic City...Miami. I've been hired by the nation's top hip-hop artist, Anton Santiago. His name is as sexy as he is, and it rolls off the tongue the same way his muscled form rolls to his music. He goes by the name Latin Lov-ah, and boy does he work that title from his rock-hard body, Latin hip-hop fusion dance moves, to the way he beds his women.

Pretending. I've always been good at pretending. Being someone else is easy, and that ability has served me well these last seven months. This time, I've been hired to be the long lost sister of oil tycoon, and down to earth cowboy, Maxwell Cunningham. Recently, Maxwell's father passed away and in his last Will and Testament he dropped a bomb no one saw coming. One of the richest men in the world, left forty-nine percent of his company to a sister my client never knew he had. A woman named Mia Saunders.

My life felt like a fast ride on a too short highway. Coming home should be roses and rainbows, but nothing that comes out of the desert blooms free. I was most certainly not free. I'd missed my payment to Blaine, owed the last client a hundred grand I didn't have, and my father was on his deathbed. To make matters worse, Wes was missing in action. As in, no one had seen or heard from him in three weeks. Devastation didn't begin to explain where my mental state was at.

In October, Mia starts her new life working on a celebrity daytime television show where she runs a regular segment about living beautiful. Her guy deals with the aftermath of captivity, and together they find a way to fight through the storms. Next, Mia travels to the Big Apple to tape a program about being thankful. All of her dreams are coming true...except for one. Finally, in December, our girl finds herself in the winter wonderland of Aspen, Colorado to film a segment on local artists under rather unique circumstances.

The land of the stars was beckoning and I answered its call. Now that I was free, well, as free as anyone could be, I decided to pursue something for me. To grab life by the horns and ride that sucker until I found my place within it. That decision brought me back home to Malibu, California, where I awaited the beginning of this next phase in my journey.

Life, Love, Laughter. Three things I never expected to experience in the month of giving thanks, but that is just what I received. Wes had survived Hell on Earth, and was back where he was meant to be...in my arms and my bed. For good. There would be no breaking us apart after the trauma we experienced up to this point. My new job with Century Production sent me to the big apple to interview celebrities for a special segment on being thankful. What is a girl to do when she has an entire host of celebrity friends from her past year of travels?

I had no idea what to expect when the producers of Dr. Hoffman sent me to the pristine white mountains of Aspen, Colorado. As the town of Aspen is known for being a winter haven for uber-rich Americans, I knew this desert cactus was going to be way out of her element. The ace up my sleeve however, was a high-class movie-making surfer whose family owned a cabin in those snowy hills. With him by my side, I'd make the most out of the experience.