(Cover is a work in progress) Have a little snippet of a phone conversation until I write a decent enough description: "I woke up with a cheap ring on my wedding finger," Mona told her. Minerva went quiet. "What?" "It's real shitty craftsmanship too, Minerva. I don't know who bought these or who's selling 'em but Christ they gotta stop. Do you have one?" "Unfortunately," Minerva muttered, and Mona could hear her shifting in the bed. "Oh," she breathed finally, "that's... interesting." "What?" "It appears we are married." Mona started laughing. "Nice one, Iva. What's next? You're pregnant and I'm the father?" "Mona I'm serious." "No you ain't." "I've sent you a picture." Just as she finished speaking, Mona's phone chimed and she pulled it from her ear, putting Minerva on speaker. Sitting in their chat was a picture of a certificate. A certificate that stated they were, in the eyes of the law, married. "Fuck me," Mona said, staring at the picture. "How did this happen?" "I don't know." "What do you mean you don't know?" "I don't know," Minerva replied firmly. "What do you remember?" "Nothing!" "Wonderful," Minerva groaned, "absolutely perfect." ************************************************************** Minerva Edevane - a multi-billionaire who is also an heiress to a Scottish fortune that is thousands of years old. Mona Ariti - a traumatised young woman with mummy issues, and also the youngest sister of Minerva's best friend. When the two of them go to a bar in vegas and then wake up the following morning with no memory of the night except for a wedding certificate, they've suddenly got to act like this was the plan all along. That they didn't get heinously drunk and accidentally get married. They need to make a convincing couple, or they'll both lose the most important things to them.