{"id":251584,"date":"2026-07-13T01:21:29","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:21:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/all-the-frogs-in-manhattan-carrie-aarons\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T01:21:29","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:21:29","slug":"all-the-frogs-in-manhattan-carrie-aarons","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/all-the-frogs-in-manhattan-carrie-aarons\/","title":{"rendered":"All The Frogs In Manhattan – Carrie Aarons"},"content":{"rendered":"
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That may sound stupid or romanticized, but it was my wish and it was how I wanted my life to be. \u201cI know all of that. I just \u2026 need some time.\u201d I was too wrapped up in the panic and jealousy seizing my heart. \u201cAll right, let me know if I can help with anything.<\/p>\n

Just text me if you want to go for a drink later or something. I love you.\u201d Sam hugged me, but she knew I needed space. She was a good friend. Unlike me right now. After she walked off in the other direction, I aimlessly walked through the park. Sunlight filtered through the trees, and children laughed or ran from their doting parents. A couple with two golden retrievers lay in the grass while they took turns flinging a Frisbee for the dogs to catch.<\/p>\n

Life went on, even as my heart was aching. I thought about the other side of the park. Central Park at night, when creeps and drug dealers invaded. My mother would send me articles through email every week about the most recent bust or rape in the park, warning me never to come here after dusk. My mother was a walking ball of worry; constantly posting on Facebook about things that caused cancer or how women over thirty could no longer conceive due to the atmosphere.<\/p>\n

It was because of her that I was having an anxiety breakdown on this gorgeous summer day. I loved the woman, and all she\u2019d done for me, but I was a nutcase when it came to things I couldn\u2019t control. And I blamed her. Wouldn\u2019t it just be easier if you were handed a slip of paper in grade school that listed the person\u2019s name and physical attributes of who you were supposed to be with.<\/p>\n

Why did life make it so hard to find him?<\/p>\n

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author\u2019s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.<\/p>\n

Editing done by Proofing Style. Cover designed by Okay Creations. 1kitap1.com\/en To all of the jerks who broke our hearts and gave us hilarious material, this one is for you. 1kitap1.com\/en I Author\u2019s Note know that some of the New York City events in this novel won\u2019t be factually correct, or fall on the historically accurate date in which they typically fall on. For the purposes of this story, I needed to change the timing on certain happenings or occasions.<\/p>\n

I hope that doesn\u2019t detract from your reading and following Gemma and Oliver\u2019s journey. And if it does, I\u2019ll buy you an ice cream. 1kitap1.com\/en D Chapter One GEMMA id you know that it takes three times the effort to wear high heels on any given day? I do. I’ve calculated it down to a science. And there are three factors as to why these goddamn death contraptions make us the weaker sex by simply sliding a toe into them.<\/p>\n

First of all, you must navigate in high heels. I swear, they design cities with footwear land mines installed purely to torture women. Curbs, subway grates, cellar doors. And cobblestones? Fucking forget it. Then we have to worry about weather. Going out in rain? Wear a pair of stilettos with traction on the bottom, or you’ll slide face first into the pavement, giving the big old Apple a flash of ass. Third, the time added to a journey to account for said foot destroyers. When I wear the fuckers, I have to plan to leave my apartment exactly thirteen and a half minutes early to arrive at work at a still acceptably late fifteen minutes.<\/p>\n

Mind you, I arrive there after my twenty-seven minute walk with aching feet, a possibly amputated pinky toe and a begrudging attitude. But here I am, Gemma Morgan, strolling into work exactly twenty-one minutes late, in my five-inch crocodile Steve Maddens that I splurged way too much money on. “You’re lucky that Medusa isn’t in yet, or your flat ass would be toast.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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