Friday, July 22, 2016

Review--Falling Completely by Aidan Willows

 MALIYA

Falling in love is not for me. I don’t do relationships, they never end well.
I don’t believe in fate, soul mates or happy, fairy tale endings. I’m definitely not a sweet little princess in search of her prince.
I have a plan to follow and falling in love is not part of that plan.
Nothing is going to change my mind.
Not even a domineering, gorgeous, blue-eyed firefighter who seems to be everywhere I go.

CALEB

The moment I saw her, I knew.
I knew the funny, curvy, raven haired beauty was supposed to be mine.
She may not agree with me at the moment, but I’m a patient man.
I’m not afraid to play dirty to get what I want.
And I want Maliya Abbott.


When her sister decides to move from London, across the Atlantic Ocean to Starling Falls to run an estranged relative’s bakery, Maliya Abbott is pretty sure her sister has lost her ever-loving mind.

Not wanting to be separated from the only family she has left, Maliya goes with her, a move that was only supposed to last a year. After all, training to be a doctor at the same University her parents did had always been her goal.

What she hadn’t planned on, was meeting Caleb Jameson. A man who is adamant they are destined to be together. That would be great, if she actually believed in any of that crap.

She also hadn’t planned on his insane, lovable, meddling family trying to derail her plans.

Maliya is a smart girl. She knows what she wants and what she doesn’t want. She definitely wants to go to Oxford University and train to become a doctor. She definitely does NOT want anything to do with Caleb Jameson.

Now, if only she could get her stupid heart to listen to her head.

I was contacted by the author and asked if I could review her debut book. I'm so glad I responded to her email and gave her a shot. This debut book is insanely good! 

Maliya Abbott's priority is her sister. So when her crazy little sister decides to pack her bags and move to Starling Falls, Maliya follows along, putting her dream of becoming a doctor on hold. 

Caleb has called Starling Falls home for years now. He loves what he has there. The missing piece he never believed he would find comes in the form of an angel. Not a real one. It's just Maliya, but for a few seconds he believes it's a real angel. 

Maliya and Caleb are somewhat opposites. Maliya has her life very planned out, very structured. While Caleb, lives life on the edge. Maliya doesn't believe she can love again and Caleb is an insta-love type of guy. However, one thing they do have in common is their importance of family. They both cherish their family. 

Maliya was frustrating character! I ended up loving her, but she made me angry sometimes! Maliya lives her life with an irrational fear that dictates everything! It was so frustrating to read about her not opening up to Caleb because of this fear. Despite this, I loved her because Maliya kept it so real. 

Caleb is one big sweetheart! He lives his life so passionately, which makes him so irresistible. Caleb has a rough past, but he's learned to accept it and move on. Now, he has a close-knit family he adores and wouldn't trade it for the world. 

I'm really excited about Aidan Willow's upcoming books. If this book is any indication of how good her books will be, I believe she'll have a very successful future as an author! I can't wait for this series to be continued. 4 stars! 

Aidan Willows lives in London, England. She graduated from the University of London with a degree in Psychology. 

After spending an absurd amount of time in the company of her e-reader, she finally decided to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and finally let loose all those imaginary friends she has floating around in her head. 

She is an avid reader, daydreamer, tea fanatic, amateur baker (though her and bread have a tempestuous relationship), appreciator of all things whiskey related and she generally watches far too much television.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Cover Reveal--Blind Landing by Carrie Aarons

RELEASE DAY: AUGUST 4, 2016
Fear stops dreams in their tracks before they even have a chance. Then again, so do injuries.
Natalia Grekov was born to win Olympic gold. As the USA’s top gymnast, she’s calm, confident and ready to make her country proud in just two short months. And her elite athlete lifestyle includes no time for distractions—especially men. When a disastrous fall in practice puts her dreams at risk, it seems the only person who can help her is the one person she wants nothing from.
Spencer Russell is gymnastics’ bad boy. A cocky, laid-back charmer with abs of steel and a witty mouth, he waltzes around the U.S. Gymnastics Training Camp like he owns the place—even though he doesn't anymore. After an injury sidelined his career and any chance at Olympic glory, he’s now just a coach, helping other gymnasts reach their goals. Serious is not a word in Spencer’s vocabulary. But when Natalia tumbles into his life, he's suddenly sincerely interested in helping the blonde beauty in any way he can.

Can they vault over the obstacles standing in their way? Or will Spencer be the distraction that causes Natalia's chance at gold to crash and burn?

 Gerek claps again and I look over in his direction. “Thank you for being able to join us this morning, Spencer.”

Turning towards the gym’s front doors, I watch Spence. It’s still strange, rolling his shortened nickname around in my mouth, but he insisted I call him that after I told him to call me Nat, so here we are. He strolls in, clad in his typical wardrobe of sandals and workout shorts.
And nothing else.
Jesus, he’s sexy. With all of those carved-out-of-stone muscles and short brown buzz cut, it’s like he should be in a Marines uniform instead of a chalk covered training center. He looks like he just rolled out of bed three seconds ago, and I squirm in my split. Which only adds to my building frustration as the carpet and my leotard create friction below my waistline.
“Oh, no problem, boss. Anything for you guys.” He gives a lopsided grin and jumps onto a stack of mats, lounging with one elbow propping him up. It’s as if he’s posing for a non-existent camera, like he’s the star model for a shoot in Gymnastics Monthly.
Actually, I think he did have a five-page spread a couple years back and I have it somewhere in my desk at home.
“Grace, Julia, Natalia, Peyton, Quinn and Lila … you are headed to the bars gym for the first part of practice today. Spencer, Anka and I will be assessing the men on pommel horse for the first part of the day, so you will be helping with the girl’s bar workout.”
My stomach flips. Bars is my best event, I’m not nervous about that. I could do my routine, which is one of the hardest of anyone at Sikora’s, in my sleep.
But having Spence watching me with those clover green eyes? Tracking my body as it spins and flies through the air? It makes the butterflies in my stomach explode.
I know he likes me, genuinely likes me. I know because he told me. And I genuinely like him too. We also find each other hot, or else we wouldn’t have gotten naked together in the Atlantic Ocean last night. That’s obvious.
But I don’t do boyfriends. Especially not boyfriends who are gymnasts. And don’t even get me started on the gymnast turned coach thing. Even if he isn’t my coach. Point is, I don’t even do hookups. Sure, I have in the past, but most of the time I find that the sex isn’t worth it and things just get awkward. Most would call me more adult than my years in this thought-process, but being an elite athlete means having to grow up fast. My biography might read nineteen, but I’ve been told I have the maturity and life view of a thirty-year-old. Talk about being jaded.
The whole relationship thing, no matter what form it’s in, is just too messy. And as much as I hate the Sikora’s and everything they stand for, I need to focus to achieve my goals. I’m not here to fulfill anyone else’s dreams, just my own.
I don’t have time for Spencer Russell. And what’s more, I have a feeling Spencer Russell does not have time, or serious interest, for me either.
Spence salutes Anka and Gerek, taunting them and crossing the line just a little further than anyone would dare where they’re concerned.
Then he turns to our group. “Alright ladies, let’s get moving. Someone remind me again, what’s this low bar for?”
The rest of our group giggles and bats their eyes at Spencer, but I just roll mine. His humor about the difference between the men’s high bar and the women’s uneven bars is the oldest joke in the book.
“Why don’t you watch and learn? We’ll show you what real gymnastics looks like.”
I skirt past him, pulling my gym bag over my shoulder as I exit the building and head to one of the countless warehouse buildings on the grounds that houses all of the bar equipment. The rest of the girls push their way in after me, a sea of brightly colored leotards, bare legs and ponytails.



Author of romance novels such as Red Card and the Captive Heart Duet, Carrie Aarons writes sexy, swoony and sarcastic characters who won't get out of her head until she puts them down on a page.
Carrie has wanted to be an author since the first time she opened a book. She loves spinning tales that include dapper men, women with attitude, and the occasional hunky athlete.
When she isn't in what her husband calls a "writing coma", Carrie is freeing up her jam-packed DVR, starting her latest DIY project, or planning her next travel adventure. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, who is more than happy to watch sports while his wife plots love stories.
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Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Blog Tour--Anything But Love by Daisy Prescott



RELEASE DAY: JULY 19, 2016

Another wingman bites the dust in this enemies to lovers story…

For the past year, I’ve been working my butt off to start my own coffee company on Whidbey.

A weekend in Cabo with sun, tiny bikinis, and vacation hook-ups is exactly the kind of tension relief I need.

What I don’t need is a bruised jaw, having to bribe my way out of jail, a hellion set on ruining my life, and my mother seeing a picture of my assets on "The Twitter."

Caribou Caldwell is my worst nightmare.

Unfortunately, she’s also the star of my sexiest dreams.

What happens when a small town guy becomes the focus of a million fantasies? As Erik Kelso navigates his sudden notoriety, will his feelings for Cari turn out to be anything but love?

Anything but Love is the third book in the Wingmen series, a spin off of Modern Love Stories. Like all Wingmen books, it can be read as a standalone romantic comedy.

When the sky finally releases its rain, its in a downpour and not a mist.
Cari takes off in a jog, yelling, Race you!
I give her a twenty-second lead and then decide to make it thirty seconds. She holds my cap with one hand, trying to keep the rain out of her face.
At forty-five seconds, I take off in a slow run. The sand slows me down a little, so I stick close to the water.
I catch up to her before we reach the tidal pool and reduce my pace to match hers. She scowls and tries to sprint through the deeper sand.
When I pass her, I jog backward for a few steps. She flips me her favorite finger.
Grinning, I race up the stairs. Once I hit the concrete, I sprint to our cars.
I cant recommend running in jeans, but the look on Caris face when she sees me leaning against my truck makes it worth it.
Her cheeks are flushed and shes breathing hard.
Combined with the way she moves when she dances, I now have a clear picture of what shed be like in bed.
I think you should tell a girl upfront youre a runner if she challenges you to a race.Her chest heaves with her breath, drawing my eyes to her breasts.
You didnt discuss race parameters before you took off. No one to blame but yourself.
What are you? Some sort of marathoner?
All State in track.
Yeah, that was when? A decade ago? I competed in gymnastics from five until fourteen, but thats not helping me now.
I add bendy and flexible to the things I imagine about Cari in bed.
I compete in the occasional triathlon.
Your stamina is impressive. Youre not out of breath at all.
I push off from the side of the truck and cage her against her car. You like my stamina? Now imagine how good I am in bed.
Her gasp is soft, but I catch it. I want to shock her. Something about her gets under my skin. I want her to feel the same.
With a low chuckle, I snatch my cap from her hair.  
She grabs for it and I hold it over my head. When she jumps, her body slides against mine as she lands.
My stamina may be impressive, but my self-control sucks.



Before writing funny contemporary romances about adults, I dreamed of being an author while doing a lot of other things. Antiques dealer, baker, blue ribbon pie-maker, fangirl, freelance writer, gardener, pet mom and wife are a few of the titles I’ve acquired along the way.

Born and raised in San Diego, my husband and I currently live in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with our dog, Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat who remains nameless.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Review: Steadfast by Sarina Bowen

 She’s the only one who ever loved him—and the only one he can never have.

Jude lost everything one spring day when he crashed his car into an apple tree on the side of the road. A man is dead, and there's no way he can ever right that wrong. He’d steer clear of Colebury, Vermont forever if he could. But an ex-con in recovery for his drug addiction can’t find a job just anywhere.

For Sophie Haines, coming face to face with the man who broke her heart is gut-wrenching. Suddenly, he’s everywhere she turns. It’s hard not to stare at how much he’s changed. The bad boy who used to love her didn’t have big biceps and sun-kissed hair. And he’d never turn up volunteer in the church kitchen.

She knows it’s foolish to yearn for the man who returned all the heartsick letters she wrote him in prison. But the looks he sends her now speak volumes.

No one wants to see Sophie and Jude back together, least of all Sophie's police chief father. But it's a small town. And forbidden love is a law unto itself.


I felt so many freaking emotions while reading this book and I love how that's become a Sarina Bowen signature! Reading her books means tackling real life topics and enjoying reading about them. In Steadfast, she takes on drug addiction. This is such a tricky topic to discuss because it affects so many people and it can go so wrong if the author is not careful how it's approached. In Sarina's case, it went oh-so-right!  Jude's addiction felt like it became my personal struggle while reading the book. 

Jude just spend three years of his life in jail for killing the police chief's son. He has learned to accept the bad decisions he made the night of the accident and live with the guilt. Out of jail, he's trying to adjusting to real life again, but it's hard when you're living in a town where everyone know's what you did. 

Sophie is trying to move on with her life, but she can't forget the boy that completely altered her life. Things in her life are not going as she expected them to be, but she can see the light at the end of the tunnel. With the boy who used to own her heart out of jail, she has to learn to adjust to all the emotions that come with seeing him again. 

Jude is warrior and one of the strongest heroes I have read about. His addiction is a constant burden reminding him of how weak he used to be. He lost the most important thing because of it and is learning to fight against it. I felt so much desperation while reading his part. The honest emotions behind this character constantly brought tears to my eyes. I'm his #1 fan. 

Sophie loves Jude. There's no question about it. It takes her a while to admit to herself how much Jude consumes her, but she comes around to it and I loved it. 

This book is RAW and PASSIONATE. It will take you on an unforgettable journey. Sarina Bowen, you have a very special talent and I can't wait to read more written by you!  


Sarina Bowen is the USA Today bestselling author of steamy, angsty Contemporary Romance and New Adult fiction. She lives in the wilds of Vermont.
She is the author of The Ivy Years, an award-winning series set amid the hockey team at an elite Connecticut college. Also, the The Gravity series.

With Elle Kennedy, Sarina is the author of HIM and US.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Cover Reveal--- Long Way Home by Katie McGarry



RELEASE DAY: JANUARY 31, 2017
Seventeen-year-old Violet has always been expected to sit back and let the boys do all the saving. 

It’s the code her father, a member of the Reign of Terror motorcycle club, raised her to live by. Yet when her dad is killed carrying out Terror business, Violet knows it’s up to her to do the saving. To protect herself, and her vulnerable younger brother, she needs to cut all ties with the club—including Chevy, the boy she’s known and loved her whole life.

But when a rival club comes after Violet, exposing old secrets and making new threats, she’s forced to question what she thought she knew about her father, the Reign of Terror, and what she thinks she wants. Which means re-evaluating everything: love, family, friends . . . and forgiveness.
Caught in the crosshairs between loyalty and freedom, Violet must decide whether old friends can be trusted—and if she’s strong enough to be the one person to save them all.

"An intoxicating and unforgettable story that kept me glued to the page."
Kami Garcia, #1 New York Times bestselling author, on Walk the Edge


Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. 

Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON,  BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine's 2012 Reviewer's Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

Chapter Reveal--- Anything But Love by Daisy Prescott


RELEASE DAY: JULY 19, 2016

Another wingman bites the dust in this enemies to lovers story…

For the past year, I’ve been working my butt off to start my own coffee company on Whidbey.

A weekend in Cabo with sun, tiny bikinis, and vacation hook-ups is exactly the kind of tension relief I need.

What I don’t need is a bruised jaw, having to bribe my way out of jail, a hellion set on ruining my life, and my mother seeing a picture of my assets on "The Twitter."

Caribou Caldwell is my worst nightmare.

Unfortunately, she’s also the star of my sexiest dreams.

What happens when a small town guy becomes the focus of a million fantasies? As Erik Kelso navigates his sudden notoriety, will his feelings for Cari turn out to be anything but love?

Anything but Love is the third book in the Wingmen series, a spin off of Modern Love Stories. Like all Wingmen books, it can be read as a standalone romantic comedy.


CHAPTER ONE
Cabo


You know what’s awesome? Sunshine, the beach and a cold beer. The only thing that improves on that trifecta is being naked.
* * *
Sitting around the resort’s pool, Carter and I start a drinking game. Every time we see a dude in a man bun, we drink.
Bad decision.
Really stupid game.
We’re seriously buzzed in an hour.
Too many hipsters and wannabes from LA around this overpriced hotel.
This place is crawling with them like a hoard of fedora wearing zombies.
An all-inclusive resort isn’t typically our speed. As two regular guys from Whidbey we kind of stick out, but passing on the deal we got would have been stupider than most of the outfits on the hipsters. Our beards help us blend in a little bit. Not sure that’s a good thing or not.
Getting off the island for a long weekend of beers, sun and boobs is exactly what I need. Since I quit Useless Bay Coffee to start my own roasting business, I’ve been working hundred-plus-hour weeks.
When our mom found the deal for cheap through her travel agency, Carter and I jumped at it. Actually, he jumped and booked it then told me he’d drag my sorry, pale ass onto the plane to Cabo if he had to.
I should be nicer about the hipsters. My business partner, Jonah, looks kind of like these guys with his tatts, stretched earlobe, and mohawk. Somehow on Jonah, the look is authentic. Like he could kick ass at a punk show, but also has mastered the art of creating perfectly foamed milk.
I suggest another drinking game: real or fake. With all the minuscule bikinis, it’s not hard to tell who is au natural and who could be on a reality show about plastic surgery.
Not that I’m complaining.
Boobs are boobs.
Buzzed and a little bored, I suggest we go paddle-boarding or some other water sport.
Carter lowers his sunglasses and thumbs to the other side of the pool where two women in thong bikinis lie on their stomachs. “Nah, I’m happy with the view here. Catch you later.”
“Suit yourself.”
I tromp over the hot sand down to the water, cursing that my shoes are sitting next to my abandoned lounge chair. Nodding at Pedro in the equipment rental kiosk, I grab a board and paddle.
I’m not saying I’m into water sports, not the kind that immediately comes to mind if you’ve ever watched porn, but there’s something about being out on the water that speaks to me. Could be growing up on an island.
Maybe it was all the time we spent as kids on our dad’s boats.
When we were young Dad bought a twenty-nine foot wooden sailboat from the seventies that he restored with Gramps. As his construction business took off, the boats got newer, bigger and nicer. Until his business partner turned out to be an asshole and embezzled all but a thousand dollars out of the business accounts, then disappeared. Ten years later, we’re still picking up pieces after everything crumbled.
Dad still has the wooden sailboat. Other than Carter or I taking it around the island or up to the San Juans it sits on a trailer surrounded by weeds behind my parents’ house.
I balance up on the board, bending my knees as I ride over the small waves crashing toward the beach. Past the shore, the swells gently roll, leaving smooth water in between sets. Nothing but clear skies and blue water through the lens of my Ray Bans.
To the right a tall cliff, more an outcropping of rocks, juts into the water, isolating our hotel from the Pacific Ocean. My curiosity piqued, I head in that direction. I’ve heard there’s a place called Lover’s beach near here. Sounds like it’s a nude beach, or at least topless.
Sadly, the only breasts I spy are on a bunch of pelicans perched on the rocky cliffs. More sun-bleached cliffs extend further west heading toward the famous natural arch. I paddle by the arch and pivot to return to the resort when a splash off one of the rock islands catches my attention.
A whoop follows another splash.
What look like seal heads bob in the water.
As I approach, I see a body fall from the cliff.
No, not fall, dive.
People are diving from a giant rock in the water. By choice.
I drift on the water, not getting too close to where the divers are hitting the surface. A small group of boats and kayakers crowd the surrounding cover. People on the beach stand and watch as well.
The guys in the water confidently swim near the sharp rocks, their strokes guiding them away from the undertow that would crash them into the jagged edges. Timing their exit, they wait until the water is high enough to allow a handhold on the rock wall. With ease, they pull themselves up the face. At the top, hollers and back slaps greet them.
Someone from above yells down to me to try it out. I smile and wave them off. Not right now. All this sun and the gentle rocking of the water against my board have amplified the beer from earlier, clouding my judgment.
Maybe on our last day tomorrow.
* * *
After dinner we decide to leave the resort and explore town. “Explore” is code for going on the prowl. The resort is great, but in terms of hooking up, it’s been a lot of nothing. Sadly, all-inclusive doesn’t include hook-ups. Too many couples and too many hipsters.
Loud music pulses from the bars lining the main street off the beach. Almost all the places have open windows that take up most of the exterior walls. People in various states of inebriation loiter around and line the sidewalks. I brush past two girls leaning over the window-counter of a club blasting Katy Perry. They’re grabbing anyone who walks by to kiss their friend wearing a white veil.
As we pass, I feel a thwack to my head and turn.
One of the women is holding a long, pink, inflated penis, and telling by her sloppy grin, she’s the one who hit me in the head with an inflatable dick.
Carter is laughing too hard to speak, but slurs out, “You’re a legitimate dickhead now, Bro.”
A thump to his head with another inflatable super-dick stops his laughter. “That hurt!”
“Sorry. I’ll buy you a shot to make up for it.” A sunburned blond rests her boobs on the window sill. “Or I can rub it and make it all better.”
Carter stops short and leans towards the cleavage as if pulled by a magnet. “Can I choose what you rub it with?”
The girl’s mouth opens, but it’s her friend who comes back with a reply. “You touched my dick, I’ll return the favor and touch yours.”
I about choke and shove him into the bar ahead of me. “If he doesn’t take you up on that offer, I will.”
We shoulder our way through the crowd to their spot at the window.
“Ooh, are you two identical twins? Like those guys who redo houses on tv? I’ve always liked blond guys.” A redhead with a gleam in her eyes begins petting my shoulder. She reminds me of Ashley back home. “That’s hot.”
Carter’s eyes are focused on the purple lace peeking out from her shirt.
“It’s hot that an egg splits in two at conception?” How is that more appealing?
Her mouth hangs open a little as her eyes try to focus on my face. “What?”
“Nothing.” Carter shoves my shoulder. “My brother is trying to be funny. It’s his attempt to make up for being the ugly twin.”
“We’re not even twins.” I elbow him.
Ginger girl’s face falls. “Oh, that’s too bad. I’ve always wanted to be with twins.”
Carter and I stare at her, then both shudder. No way. No. We step away from each other at the same time.
I scratch above my ear. “I’m too sober. I need a drink.”
“Let’s do shots!” the veiled woman shouts.
“Tequila!” They all scream and clap their hands.
I volunteer to go to the bar for shots and beers.
Two of the penis-wielding girls squeal about their favorite song playing, and drag me by my hands to the dance floor. They sandwich me between them as they screech out their love for the pop singer, the guy in the lyrics, and each other.
I spin the one in front of me, trying to reclaim a little bit of personal space. She follows my lead, allowing me to step out of the girl-sandwich before she slams back into her friend. Both go off balance and tilt into me, causing me to grab the hips of a woman in a backless green dress to steady myself.
Rather than shoving me away, she keeps dancing. My hands rest on her swaying hips.
Okay. This works. I move closer, not like a typical club asshole or a dude in a body spray commercial, but close enough I can feel her body heat.
The purple tips of her long hair brush against my arms as she moves in front of me, her body inches from touching mine. The floral scent of her shampoo mixes with something beachy and tropical on her skin. She smells like vacation sex. Blood begins to rush toward my cock and I still haven’t seen her face.
Two pairs of arms wrap around my middle from both sides. Now I’m the meat in a triple-decker sandwich.
“We thought we lost you!” One of the blondes screeches.
“We’re thirsty.” The other one pouts. Somehow her thirst requires her to shove her breasts at me.
Distracted, it takes me a moment to realize purple-tip girl has disappeared into the crowd.
“I’ll get us some shots.” I wiggle myself out of their grip.
At the end of the bar, I find a spot to stand.
Next to me a guy shouts at the person on the other side of him. His tall, but shorter than I am by a couple inches, and I can see where his hair is thinning on top. Given he’s not that broad in the shoulders, the recipient of his anger must be petite because I can only see her bare arm behind him. By the tone in his voice, she must be a wife or a girlfriend. No guy trying to pick up a woman would ever use that tone. Unless he is a complete asshole and being an asshole is what gets him laid.
Her voice carries over the music. “Stop being a jealous prick. I wasn’t dancing with that guy.”
“He was behind you, with his hands all over you ass. Trust me, you made it perfectly clear you were interested.” He steps closer to her and mutters something about never forgetting who’s paying for this trip.
She moves out of his shadow and I catch a glimpse of dark hair with purple tips. “Damien, stop being an asshole. Maybe if you ever decide to dance with me, I won’t have to dance by myself.”
The bartender stops in front of me, and I order tequila shots for the army of bridesmaids currently being entertained by my brother.
“You want to flirt with every guy in here all night, fine. I’m not going to stand around and watch. If I want to waste money on trashy women, I’ll go to one of the strip clubs down the road.”
“Did you just compare me to a stripper?” Her voice rises, nearing an octave only dolphins can appreciate.
“If you dance like one, you might as well be one.”
I let my gaze travel down her body. She’s not even showing any cleavage in her green dress. Hell, most of her thigh is covered too.
“I hate it when you drink too much and get like this.” When she turns, I let my focus rest on the small dimples at the very bottom of her back, right above the curve of her ass. She’s not skinny and I’m not sure if there’s a right angle on her body. Her waist narrows about the roundness of her bottom. How had I missed the perfection of it on the dance floor?
A sharp jolt to my shoulder brings my focus back up. “Quit checking out my fiancée, asshole.”
Whoa.
“I’m not your fiancée! Do you see a ring on this finger?” She shoves her left hand in his face before tucking all but her middle finger down. “Or this one?”
Two beers and tray of tequila shots appear before me on the bar. I motion for two more tequilas and hand the bartender a bunch of pesos.
He pours the additional shots. I take one, down it and flip the glass on the bar. No lime or salt needed. The burn hits the back of my mouth as I shake my head. I lift the other shot and meet the green eyes of the woman staring at me.
“Here.” I hand her the glass. “Sounds like you need this.”
“What does that mean?” The jerk asks, puffing out his chest as he attempts to appear bigger.
She takes the shot and tipping her head back, swallows it. Her face contorts for a second before she licks her lips and gives me a grin. “Thank you.”
“Now you’re letting strange men buy you shots? I can’t even believe this. Who are you?” He slaps his hand down on the bar.
“I doubt he had time to roofie me, given that we’ve been standing here next to him the whole time. In case you were worried about my safety.” Her tone is dry and the smile is gone.
I lift another shot and nod. She takes it and downs it like the other one, fast and smooth. Like a champ.
“You get drunk and puke, I’m not holding your hair.” Now he’s full out scowling. His hands grip his biceps as he puffs out his chest like a rooster in some sort of exaggerated macho posturing.
I’ve had enough. The last thing this night needs is for me to be in the middle of some lame-ass lovers’ quarrel. But I can’t stop myself from one, final parting shot.
I lean into her space. Even though the entire bar smells like the bottom of a tequila bottle, her scent of sun and coconut surrounds me. I don’t whisper. Nah, I want him to hear me. “His penis better be enormous.”
Keeping my focus on her, I slowly lean away and reach for the tray of shots.

A fist makes contact with my jaw. Shock more than pain sends me reeling back a step.

Before writing funny contemporary romances about adults, I dreamed of being an author while doing a lot of other things. Antiques dealer, baker, blue ribbon pie-maker, fangirl, freelance writer, gardener, pet mom and wife are a few of the titles I’ve acquired along the way.

Born and raised in San Diego, my husband and I currently live in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with our dog, Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat who remains nameless.