Evie Mitchell eBook Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook NSFW Cover Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)

Resolution Revolution (EBOOK)

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Warning: This book contains hardwood. So get thee a lumberjack and settle in, cause this new year romance is about to start off with a bang!

Have you ever had a meme made of your name? I have. Every single day. It's what people think about before they even meet me. "Oh, she's such a Karen." Charming.
In part, that's why I keep to myself, hiding behind my microphone as the voice of The Wicked Women Podcast. Only this year my producer wants to get me out of the studio and trying new things.
So we make a set of new year resolutions, which includes me being forced out into the world.
I hate the world. The world sucks.
Or at least it did before I met Will. I find I quite like the world when it involves the owner of our local lumber company.
And I'm discovering a new interest in hardwoods.

Who thought a zip-lining corporate bonding experience would turn into finding the love of my life? Not me, that's for sure.
Karen is witty, intelligent, and utterly perfect.
I want her. Badly.
Only problem? She's way out of my league, and I'm just waiting for her to realise that.

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"Hey, all you Pretty Pollys out there, welcome to the first episode of the Wicked Women podcast for the new year. I'm Karen Q, and I'm here with my co-host—"

"Mistress H."

"—to discuss all things feminist, feminine, and fine as fuck!"

I hit the play button on the sound desk, nodding in time to the intro music. On the other end of the screen, my co-host, Hannah Sharp, tilted her head to the side, her lips moving as she counted down to the end of the tune. Unlike me, in my sloppy PJs and bed-hair, Hannah looked as neat as a pin, her white pantsuit perfectly pressed, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders in perfectly positioned beach curls.

It's nice that some things in life are predictable.

"Mistress H, tell me, how were your holidays? Did you conquer the dreaded Christmas family dinner?"

Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "No. Despite all efforts to be civil, dinner disintegrated into a melee of words between my father, his new girlfriend, and my aunt."

I winced. "Ouch. Was it entertaining, at least?"

"For the first two hours, then the cops arrived. After that, it was just me attempting to bail my aunt out of jail and dealing with paperwork for the next six hours."

I hit the sad sound button. "That sounds like the worst Christmas you've had since the one where someone ate your dessert."

"It was. At least this time, I got pudding."

We chatted about our holidays, filling our listeners in on what was happening in our lives before cutting to a commercial break. 

"And we're back," I said into the microphone, repositioning my earphones. "It's time to introduce our guest for this week. She's our producer, a mom-to-be, a kickass boss lady, and one of the best friends I've ever had. Let's give it up for Christine!"

I hit the button to add cheers, grinning as I unmuted the screen.

"Chrissy-boo, how are you?" I asked, blowing her air kisses.

"Fat, fun, and fine as fuck." She laughed, holding her hand up to the screen for a high-five. I pretended to air-smack her palm, laughing at Hannah's eye roll.

"May I remind you that you're pregnant?" Hannah asked with a flick of her hair. "Fat is not a descriptor I'd use for the beauty of your body right now."

"Mistress, I love you, but you are dead wrong." Christine leaned back, patting her eight-month-pregnant belly. "I am so done with being pregnant. It feels as if my ankles are about to explode. If I don't get some foot massages up in here, I'm worried I may never walk again."

"I'd just like to remind you of something you said at the start of this single mom journey. What was it? Oh, that's right." I grinned, making my voice wispy and overly high-pitched. "Pregnancy is a gift, and I can't wait to experience it all. And best of all, I don't have to share it with anyone else."

Chrissy groaned. "I hate that you remember that."

"Babe, I remember everything."

We all cackled before Hannah sobered, lifting her clipboard to check the run schedule.

"Chrissy, your email was incredibly cryptic. All it says is that you want to talk to us about resolutions."

"Uh-huh." She leaned forward, grinning into the computer screen. "I've decided it's time to shake up this little podcast. You ladies have had enough of being safe at home hiding behind your microphones. I've decided it's time to get you out from behind the desk and into the big bad world."

I blinked. "Huh?"

Hannah, always more articulate than me, clarified, "What are you asking us to do?"

Christine rubbed her hands together. "I've signed you both up for a few new year's resolutions." 



"You can't do that!"

"This is a horrible idea!"

"I hate people!"

"You know Karen hates people."

She made a quiet motion with her hands. "Look, I get it. It's a big scary world filled with people you might hate. But ladies, you're Wicked Women. And Wicked Women don't settle. They don't stay at home when there are challenges to be slain. They get out there and take names. And that's what I want you to do."

She clicked her screen, sharing it with us. "I asked the listeners over the holidays to send us their bucket lists. From that, I've pulled the things that are in the local area. Over the next few months, we're going to tick them off one by one."

I could feel my eyebrows disappearing into my hairline. "I'm sorry, does that say zip-lining?"

"What exactly is a Brazilian cleanse?" Hannah asked, frowning at the screen.

"Patience ladies, let me explain." Christine leaned into her microphone, dropping her voice an octave. "You'll thank me later."

I doubt it.

"I've signed you both up for things that I think you need. Mistress, you need more self-care, more vulnerability, more emotion, and more lightness in your life."

Hannah's lips pressed together, a frown creasing her forehead. "Do I?"

"Yes." Christine gave a firm nod. "You do. That's why we've signed you up for different types of relaxation and emotional connection classes."

"But… meat load therapy? What is that? Is that an actual activity or a cooking class?"

"Oh, it looks amazing!" Christine enthused. "It's a new spa therapy that involves wrapping yourself in fur while a piece of steak is placed over your face. You then listen to the sounds of the forest while meditating. Apparently, it's very primal."

There was a beat of silence.

"Let me get this straight. Mistress H is becoming a shish kebab while I try my luck at being a daredevil?" I asked, staring at the list of feats I apparently needed to achieve. "Chrissy, this reads like a list of ways to die. I mean, skydiving? Fuck. No."

She grinned. "I thought you'd say that, that's why I've already pre-purchased everything. All you need to do is turn up."

Stunned silence met her declaration.

I coughed, my voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat that?"

"All you need to do is turn up. All the details are in your emails right now."

Hannah and I stared at each other via the computer screen. 

"Mistress H, any thoughts?" I asked.

Hannah closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. "I don't like surprises."

"Psh." Chrissy waved a dismissive hand. "Surprises are awesome."

"And," Hannah continued. "I don't like being touched. This sounds like something you want, Christine. Not Karen or I."

Again, Christine dismissed her. "You'll enjoy it if you give it a chance."

Hannah sucked in a breath, her face turning into what I liked to call her don't fuck with me expression.

Sock it to her, Hannah!

"Christine," she began, her voice ice cold. "As you would be aware, consent is not something limited to sexual activity. It crosses all lines. In this instance, while you've offered something that sounds wonderful, you didn't seek consent to undertake this kind of decision. It's one thing to surprise someone. It's quite another to not accept that they don't wish to do it."

There was a moment of silence from Chrissy.

I leaned forward, whispering into the microphone, "Hard burn from Mistress H. Let's see how Chrissy retaliates."

Christine slowly shook her head. "So, you're saying I've overstepped?"


Chrissy's eyes narrowed on Hannah. "Ex-cuse me?"

"You made a decision—"

"You told me you were up for an adventure!"

"I thought you meant one activity! One! And something that wouldn't involve touching!"

The discussion disintegrated from there. I slowly turned down their mics, allowing their bickering to become a background to my voice-over.

"And that, dearest listener, is the reason we don't surprise Mistress H. Ever. We'll be back, right after these messages from our sponsors."

I hit the play button, switching us all off record. I'd clean up our sound before uploading it to the various platforms.

 "Guys," I called, trying to get their attention. "Ladies!"

They fell silent, their two-dimensional faces mutinous on the computer screen.

"What if we just give it a go?" I asked. "I mean, I could try—" I checked the list, swallowing against the bad taste in my mouth. "Zip-lining. And I could take one of the massages. Maybe between the both of us, we could just work out what we want to do."

Hannah exhaled, that familiar ice settling across her features—impenetrable and protective, safely hiding away her true thoughts.

"That will be fine."

"Except for the meat load therapy," Chrissy said, waggling a finger at the screen. "That one is non-transferable."

"Fine, I shall be decked out in meat while listening to jungle sounds. Are you satisfied?"

Chrissy, well used to Hannah's still protectionist voice, laughed. "Yep."

"And Chrissy, next time you have a great idea like this, what will you do?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'll ask first. Even if I think it's for your own good."

"Thank you."

The prerecorded ads ended, and I leaned back into the microphone. "Alright, so it's settled. We're off to zip-lining and meat therapy. Listeners, wish us luck 'cause Mistress H and I are pretty sure we're about to die."

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