First Chapter of Just Swipe Right by Allie York
The first Chapter of Just Swipe Right may contain affiliate/referral links. It is a way for this site to earn advertising fees by advertising or linking to certain products and/or services.
Get ready for the 425 Madison Series with the first chapter of Just Swipe Right by Allie York. This is the second book in the first season of three seasons and 21 books from multiple authors and a wide variety tropes. This dating app romance will have you falling in love!
Chapter One: Eliza
Piper snaps her fingers in my face, “Hello?” I realize I’ve been staring at the creepy mural on the wall for a little longer than appropriate, “Are you listening?” The look Piper’s giving me makes it clear she knows that I’m not listening. Piper rolls her eyes and shoves her phone in my face, “It’s not creepy like it used to be. I swear.” Her promise falls on deaf ears. There is no way in hell that I would ever sign up for a dating site. Piper swipes her thumb across the screen and flips the phone around. A moderately attractive man smiles back at me, but I can’t see his eyes for the reflective aviator glasses.
“Joe looks very nice. Pass.” I smile and take a long sip of my sweet tea. Upbeat Mariachi band music plays all around us making everyone in Del Santo Taco have to yell across tables. The walls are a hodge-podge of the bright, festive murals. Its cheesy, but they have the best homemade salsa in town.
“You don’t say pass, you say swipe left.” Piper demonstrates on her phone then reaches for mine. I narrow my eyes and grab for it, but it’s too late, “How long has it been?” Her bright green eyes twinkle in her mischievous way and I reach for the phone again.
“Not long enough to get on one of those desperate, attention seeking sites.” I grumble, making another grab for my phone.
“How long?” Piper is using her phones to rapidly text on my phone. The pink and teal unicorn case can be seen in flashes as she adjusts her fingers for maximum typing speed. When I don’t answer, she pulls out the big guns, “Eliza Cassandra Donovan, you tell me right now how long it’s been since you had sex, or I swear I’ll announce it to all of Del Santo Taco to hear.” My older sister sets her jaw to challenge me. She’s ten months older and makes sure everyone knows.
“Nine months.” I give up and watch her type something else into my phone, “But that is what vibrators are for, right?” It’s been so long, even my vibrator has given up on me. I really need to stop for batteries.
“Please stop that shit.” Piper points the camera on my phone at me and grins, “Smile.” Without missing a beat, I flip her off and make my face look as bored as humanly possible. My sister shrugs and types some more. I watch her bite her lip while she types, concentrating on the task at hand. We look exactly alike. Straight dark hair, green eyes, and a true Irish complexion complete with freckles. In the light swinging lazily above us, Piper’s hair looks almost red, but we are both dark brunettes.
“Please stop.” I beg, dipping a chip in the guacamole on the side of her plate. Instead of giving in to my weak plea, she moves over to my side of the booth and scoots me over with her hip.
“Okay. This is your profile.” On the screen in front of me is the photo of myself flipping off the camera. Under it is my age (twenty-four), sexual preference (straight), and my height (five feet-three). “Now, this is your matches based on the questions I answered for you even though this is kind of your job.” She points at the two colliding hearts in the corner, “I left the sex questions blank, because ew.”
“What app is this?” I don’t know why I’m asking because I’m deleting it the second she gives me the phone back.
“Match Me.” Piper says it as if I would know, “So, men can’t send dick pix, or any pix on here, so that’s a huge plus. If you swipe right on someone, and they swiped right on you, it lets you talk to them on here.” Piper touches the chat bubble in the bottom right corner. My messages are empty of course.
“You’re older than me and also single. Why am I the one being tortured?” I demand. If anyone needs to find a man, it’s Piper. She’d preferably find one who can put up with all her meddling. She picks up her phone and shows me her profile. It has at least ten pictures of her and her chat bubble has the number six floating above it. I assume she’s talking to six guys. All of her pictures look fun and free. Piper in a tank top by a huge bear statue, Piper in her bikini at the beach, Piper having drinks at a night club. She’s smiling in every picture.
“Look, I talk to people, you don’t.” Piper pats my head and moves back over to her side of the booth, “I’m only trying to help. If you go out a few times and hate it, delete the profile and go back to your precious vibrator. Now swipe some.” I do as I’m told. I don’t care about actually meeting someone, so if the guy in the picture doesn’t look like a total douche, I swipe right. If he’s shirtless in front of a gym mirror, they get a left swipe. I go through about six pictures then toss my phone on the brightly painted table next to my empty plate.
“There, I swiped.” I say indignantly. My phone lights up and buzzes twice next to me. A wicked smile moves across Piper’s red lips. I have to check it out, of course, so I open the Match Me app. The message icon has a number one hovering over it. I tap it once and the message screen opens. The top half is a man shoving half a waffle into his mouth. He’s not bad looking and his name is Chris.
“Is he hot?” Piper has migrated over next to me again. I flip through the rest of Chris’s pictures. He’s kind of thin and nerdy, but not unattractive. Three of the pictures are of him with a cat, but I can’t decide if that’s hot, or weird. Oh my gosh! Why do I care at all? Piper’s already gotten into my psyche with this online dating crap. Under the pictures is the profile portion of the app. It’s literally a laundry list of pros and cons.
–Chris, 32
– Teacher
– Movie buff
– 6’2”
– Looking for my partner in crime of the white-collar variety.
I smile at the last line and keep scrolling to see the message he sent me. “Hey, how’s Monday treating you?” I start to answer but pause. What the hell am I getting myself into? My sister elbows me lightly and I type a response. What’s the worst that can happen? If he’s creepy, or we don’t click, I never have to see him. I can just delete him and move on. Maybe I’m being too cynical and need to give Chris the teacher a shot.
‘Just Swipe Right’ by Allie York
“See, it wasn’t hard.” Piper shrugs innocently and I can’t help but groan. Why do I let her talk me into this crap?
“I guess we’ll see.” I throw my phone in my purse and shove her out of the booth, “You’re paying, and I need to go back to work.” Piper throws some cash on the table, grabs one last sip of her drink and runs after me.
“El!” Piper grabs my shirt and jerks me to a stop, “Give it a shot. You never know.” Piper and I are the same height, so I can glare straight at her, “A week, give it a week. Who knows, you could write a book on it or something. See ya at home!” My sister winks at me and kisses my cheek.
“Bye.” I wave her off to her sleek black car, not bothering to correct her on my actual occupation. I do not write books. I write an advice column for a magazine. Piper backs out and peels out of the parking lot, leaving me standing behind my truck. My phone buzzes a few times in my bag, but I ignore it to get in the truck. I’ll give it a try for a month, but I refuse to obsess over getting messages from guys. I finally climb in and drive back to my office in the city, wondering why Piper and I drive so far out once a week just for good guacamole. With traffic, the time driving is almost twice the time eating.
It takes me five minutes at my desk to break my promise to myself. I turn on the computer and instantly have my phone out to see what Chris responded with. All my collectable pug figurines stare at me, judging me, but I ignore them. I don’t have time for their stares, so I spin my chair around. I have three other messages on Match Me as well. One from Josh, and two from Neal. I start with Chris. My response was a pretty basic ‘I’m having a great day. How’re you.’
‘After a rough start to the morning, I drank two cups of coffee and it still sucks. Tell me about you. What are you looking for on here?’ I stare at the words for a while, completely unsure of an answer. When I can’t come up with an answer outside of ‘my sister made me’ I just go on to the next message, leaving Chris hanging for a while longer. Josh has a slightly longer list of traits to examine.
-Josh, 39
-IT technician, no I won’t fix your computer
-I love hiking and camping
-my dog is cooler than yours
-6’2” since women always ask
-if your picture is a duck face, swipe left.
I go through the pictures on his profile and judge them carefully. One is in the woods and one is at the gym. The last one is at a bar. I do go to the gym twice a week, but the bar and the woods aren’t really my scene. I read his message anyway.
‘Your profile pic has a story and I want to hear it.’ Now this I really can respond with, ‘My sister made me put this profile up because her goal in life is to torture me endlessly.’ I type it out and hit send. If I’m going to do this for a while, I can at least have a little fun. Without waiting for a response, I go on to my next message. Neal is a little younger and has a cute baby face. His pictures have him with a head set on and a video game on in the background, him at the beach and him with a dog. The dog selfies seem less weird than cat pictures. Maybe it’s just me. His list of facts is longer than the rest.
-Neal, 28
-Retail manager
-avid gamer
-dog lover, I’m only here to pet your dog
-looking for the love of my life
-married once, no kids
-not here for a hook up
-if you can name all the Pokémon Go teams, we should talk
-looking for a DragonCon date
I only play MarioKart with my little brother, I’m definitely not looking for the love of my life on an app, have never hooked up, and never played Pokémon Go. Hell, I don’t know what DragonCon is, but I look at Neal’s message anyway.
‘You don’t look happy to be here, but you’re beautiful anyway.’ I have to give the guy points for the compliment. All women like being called beautiful, no matter how much they fight it. I thank him for the compliment and realize I need to do actual work instead of talking to strangers on an app. I know if I hear the buzzing, I’ll compulsively have to answer the messages, so I turn off my app notifications and put the phone on the desk, turning back to look at the row of judgmental stares on my shelf. I’m starting to think bringing in all the inanimate pugs were a bad idea.
The Progressive is a small independent magazine that focuses on the issues and lifestyle of young professionals in the area. I applied for the position of assistant editor right out of college, but they passed on me for someone with less education. Luckily the magazine gods decided that I should write an article instead. So, for over a year, I’ve been running the Letters to Liza article. Something about using my real name seemed like an invasion of my privacy, so went with a nickname. I get about a hundred emails a day from hipsters looking for professional or personal advice. I pick six per week to answer and run in my column and one per day for my social media accounts. My business Facebook page and Twitter have thousands of followers who either love me or hate me. None of them are indifferent. Fortunately, I have thick skin and know better than to feed into any people who think I should ‘go die’ or ‘kill yourself you self-righteous bitch’. The internet is a scary place.
For the next hour I sit in my office overlooking the tiny courtyard and watch people bustle around down below me while I sort through twenty-five or so emails.
Everybody has problems. It’s human nature to get ourselves into stupid situations because we have our flaws. Some people should need a license to get into relationships. Those are the people who write me. In a hook up culture, a culture like the dating app I just got my self into, people either sink or swim. Sometimes the letters I get are the victims of the ones who have bad judgement. Like this person.
Dear Liza,
I’ve been dating my boyfriend for a year now, but we’ve been friends since high school. After years of watching him date other girls, he finally admitted he was in love with me. (yay) We moved in together last month. It was great to have him in my apartment at first, but then things took a bad turn. He used to always text me, tell me I’m beautiful, and talk to me about his day. Since he moved in, he doesn’t do these things. He says since we live together, he doesn’t need to text me during the day. A few nights ago, he stayed at his job late, and had to be in early so got a hotel nearby. When I bring up my issues, he dismisses them and calls me paranoid. Surely, I’m not crazy and he is taking advantage of my trust, right?
Signed,
Moved into Midtown
It’s clear to me and probably the readers that this poor girl was used for her place in Midtown. I put that email aside and mark it as ‘to-answer’ for later.
Dear Liza,
I know men never write you, but I need your help. I’m in love with three women. I have a girlfriend of six months who is amazing. I’m in love with her, it’s simple. She’s pretty, and smart, and my parents love her. The sex is okay. I’m in love with my ex-girlfriend as well. She’s gorgeous, but dull. I’m not being mean, just honest. I know I’m smarter than she is, and I never feel challenged by her, but the sex is amazing, and she’s always been up for anything. Lastly, I am still madly in love with my ex-wife. She’s the mother of my children, the one who got away, and the one I can’t live with. We fought constantly, but the make-up sex was explosive. For the last six months, I have been faithful despite attempts by both my exes to get back with me. Please help, Liza! By the way, I’m sure you are sexy as hell, and if you ever need a nice dinner out, I’m your man.
-Hopelessly in love, again.
I put Mr. Hopeless in my ‘to-answer’ pile as well. I learned quickly that there was no way to answer all of the questions I get, and I should never try. I have to pick the ones that are particularly shitty, or dramatic, or are a public interest story. Even when I narrow it down by those standards, I always have to randomly pick out about a third of those. I get a lot of hate mail solely based on my selection process. I never read it. They don’t hate Eliza Donovan, they hate my alter ego, Liza. My image as Liza is much more exciting than my real life, so it’s almost like I’m an actress as well as a journalist. Love me or hate me, my job is the best and I get to be as judgmental as I want when I’m Liza.
I spend the next hour sorting through emails and looking longingly at my purse where my phone is hiding. I know I’m against online dating, but something about what Piper said got me a little excited. Surprisingly, its not the sex. Maybe using the online dating experience for writing wouldn’t be so bad. I’m not really optimistic about meeting a man, but maybe something other than Letters to Liza could come from this. A book about the adventures in dating in a digital world would be fun. Once I picked five very controversial letters, I allow myself a break and get my phone from my purse out in record time. The Match Me app has taken over the notifications at the top of the screen. I don’t really care who swiped right on me, I just want to read those messages. I have four. Before I tap the message icon, I decide to find more matches instead. As soon as the pictures appear, I scan through and scan the profiles. I automatically swipe right on any man in a suit or who doesn’t look like a creeper. Some of the men I decide to swipe right are tech-loving nerds, and some are blue-collar hotties. I want to give myself a full spectrum to potential men. Once I swipe about twenty guys, I decide to check my messages. Josh, Neal, and Chris all messaged me again. Neal asks if he scared me off, Josh asks what I do for a living, and Chris tells me he’s going to be away from his phone but would love to hear from me after work. I sit back with my pen and notebook, making columns on the page to take notes. I need to keep the men I chat with straight, for research purposes. Even if I never get around to a book, online dating could help me with my column. While I’m taking notes, another message comes through from a man I just swiped right.
-Stuart, 32
-CEO
-avid biker and gym goer
-I love brunettes
-6’2” since all the women ask
-I’m looking for a wife, so not interested in mind games.
I scroll down to the message Stuart sent and smile instantly. It’s cheesy, but the inner romantic I keep locked away loves it. A professional brunette with a sarcastic streak. I think I’m in love already.
About Just Swipe Right
Eliza: My life is perfect. I have a luxurious apartment and my dream job. I also have a sister willing to sign me up for a dating app against my better judgment. I promise her one week before the app is deleted forever. All it takes is one week before I’m matched with two amazing men and my perfect life becomes a perfect disaster.
Murphy: I needed a drastic change and I got it. My move from the middle of nowhere to the city lands me in a classy part of town with an upscale job. All I need is a personal life to match. So, I join the masses and download an app.A match with the woman of my dreams has me considering a future. The only problem is that I’m not the only one wanting to make her mine.
After all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love!
About the 425 Madison Series
Welcome to 425 Madison Ave the perfect place to fall in love. Nine delicious romances set in fast-paced & sexy NYC just waiting for you to read.
This season will feature some new authors as well as some of season one’s favs. Back for season two is Allie York, Leigh Lennon, MK Moore, Aubree Valentine, Lauren Helms, and Katy Ames. Plus a warm welcome to KC Enders, and Marcie Shumway! Not only do we have a sexy mix of new and returning authors, prepare for pages packed with new romances, characters, and tropes all from the same well-loved high-rise apartment building in NYC.
Not only do we have a sexy mix of new and returning authors, prepare for pages packed with new romances, characters, and tropes all from the same well-loved high-rise apartment building in NYC.
Make sure to follow the 425 Madison Avenue Facebook page for more on release dates, cover reveals and author spotlights. For exclusive excerpts, giveaways, and news subscribe to our 425 Madison newsletter!
About Allie York
Allie is a mom and dog groomer by day. At night she is posted at her laptop writing or reading in a cozy corner. She has a soft spot for gooey romance, over-creamed coffee, and anything cute and furry.
