Excerpt Reveal – CHEEKY KING by Nana Malone

Cheeky Royal by Nana Malone is AVAILABLE NOW!
Keep reading for an excerpt and PRE-ORDER Cheeky Royal Now!

“Nana Malone delivers royal-worthy chemistry in a snappy, page-turning package. Penny and Prince Sebastian are everything! Give us the next book now!”
— Max Monroe, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

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All they want is everything they can’t have.
Penny…
Yes, yes, I’ve heard the rumors.
The prince is royal, and cocky and has a—well never mind about all that.
The problem is, he’s also my job.
When the King called on me to retrieve the wayward prince, I was ready to walk away.
Then I caught my boyfriend cheating—and suddenly leaving never felt like a better idea.
Sebastian…
I never wanted the throne.
When I left behind my gilded cage of a palace, it all sounded so simple: find my long-lost brother & make him the prince so I don’t have to rule the kingdom like my father expects.
Then I meet my new neighbor, and quickly realize I’ve found the queen of my heart—and bed.
Just one problem, I can’t let her find out who I really am.

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Excerpt

I shook my head. “No. This guy just didn’t seem to understand my disinterest in him. And when I put my drink down, I accidentally kneed him in the balls.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “You accidentally kneed him in the balls?”

The guy was still moaning on his knees.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to do it.” I blinked my eyes as innocently as I could. Then the unthinkable happened. Sebastian’s arm went around me, and his voice went low and deadly as he addressed the guy on the floor still howling and holding the family jewels. “Listen to me. She’s a friend of mine. If I see you near her again, I’ll make your life very difficult. What she did to you on accident will seem like a walk in the park.”

When he pulled me closer, I tipped my head up to glance at him, eyes wide. I was unprepared for what happened next. Sebastian squeezed me tightly, and I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine.

Oh God.

Holy. Shitballs. On. A. Cracker. Pussy down. Pussy down!

The kiss was electric, hot, and quick. And then it was over so soon I couldn’t be sure it had happened. His electric blue gaze bore into mine before he whispered, “Like I said. She’s mine.”

He let go of me then, and I had to work hard to fight the feeling of emptiness.

Yeah, that’s right dumbass, you’re not actually his.


Grab the FREE PREQUEL, Cheeky Prince:

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From USA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone, comes a sexy, royal novella.

What Good is a Throne if the King Isn’t Worthy…

Before I was a King…
Before I was known for my naked hot tub antics…
Before my neighbor turned my world upside down…
I was a Cheeky Prince.


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What good is a King without his Queen?

Sebastian…

I never wanted the crown, but now it’s mine.
Instead of my freedom–instead of her.
But even though she’s not mine to keep, I can’t seem to stay away.

Penny…

The moment he became king, I knew we were over.

Now I’ve returned home some kind of conquering hero.
If only they all knew that we’d both lost our hearts.
If only I could stay out of the royal bed.

What good is being cocky if you can’t get what you want?

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About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author, NANA MALONE’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since.

With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana, meantime works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.

The books in her series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble best seller lists as well as the iTunes Breakout Books list and most notably the USA Today Bestseller list.

Until that ninja job comes through, you’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series as well as other fun, sassy romances for characters that won’t leave her alone. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.

Want to hit me up? Just email me: nana@nanamaloneromance.com

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Excerpt Reveal – PSYCHOPATH’S PREY by V.F. Mason

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Psychopath’s Prey by V.F. Mason is releasing on APRIL 17th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!

Psychopath's-Prey-FRONT-FOR-WEB

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All details HERE!

Once upon a time she became mine.
Mine to hunt.

A criminal psychologist and a serial killer.
The love between them shouldn’t exist.
Or so the world thinks.
Her mission is to find him.
His single obsession is to catch her.
The hunter and the prey.
Let the games begin, and may the stronger one win.

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Excerpt

Unfamiliar emotions swirl through me; although I’m not sure a euphoric rush of adrenaline at remembering her fear-filled voice could be considered an emotion.

But what brought even more anticipation?

Her mind.

Her desire to catch me is so strong; she sees outside the box and digs into details other people might never notice.

How can I not enjoy playing a game with her?

She would have been a great asset to the team helping catch the likes of me.

Too bad my case will be the first and last she’ll ever have.

PREY_TEASER4

About the Author

V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her momma over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn’t happen. Finally, when she was tired of all those voices in her head, she sat down and wrote a book. It was a huge decision to make and she thanks her friends and family for supporting her in it. When she is not writing, she can be found with her friends doing all sorts of crazy things or reading recent romance books that were written by her favorite authors.

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Excerpt Reveal – NEEDING HIM by Kennedy Fox

Needing Him by Kennedy Fox is coming on April 17th! Read an excerpt below and pre-order today!

Evan Bishop is your typical hotshot doctor.
Hardass, brooding, and all business.

Instead of working on the family ranch, Evan broke the mold and became an ER doctor.
He’s good with his hands—in more ways than one—smart as a whip and is the definition of God’s gift to women. Being a gentleman is in his Southern roots, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t flawed. Exclusive dating has never been a top priority and his tragic past makes him stay at arm’s length. Deciding to let loose for a wild night, he takes a page from the Bishop brother’s relationship book and hooks up with a mysterious girl he’ll never have to see again, which is perfect for this self-proclaimed bachelor.

Emily Bell is a city girl through and through but is determined to get away from her family and past. All she wants is a fresh start and to make a name for herself in the medical field. No random hookups and no dating coworkers—that’s her new motto after being burned time and again. When she agrees to attend a wedding as a plus-one, she’s soon ditched and left to drink solo—but not for long. Mr. Suit is the ultimate temptation with his Southern charm, messy blond hair, and irresistible sex appeal. Everything about him screams bad news, but he makes her reconsider her rules just for one night.

After all, some rules are made to be broken.

They want the same thing—one night of passion then they’ll go their separate ways. No cuddling afterward. No next day phone calls. No awkward goodbyes. Too bad the universe has other plans—one that’ll be obvious when they report to work on Monday morning.

*A contemporary romance with a little Southern drama. This is book 2 in the Bishop Brothers series. Each book features a different brother and can be read as a complete standalone. HEA guaranteed!*
Not suitable for readers under 18 due to adult language and sexual content.

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Excerpt

Evan and I suit up in our surgical gowns, gloves and masks but before I can ask for help to tie me up, he’s behind me knotting the ties around my neck and waist.

“Thanks.”

He only nods in response without making eye contact. I see Veronica is already tying him up and that’s when I get the impression she’s his right-hand man. She always has his files ready for him, relays his messages, and I’m pretty sure she handed him a coffee yesterday afternoon.

She’s his work wife.

I giggle a little to myself at the term I’ve heard my dad use about one of his assistants. When you work in the hospital as much as we do, you’re more married to the people you work with than the actual people you’re married to.

“Something funny?” He shoots daggers at me.

“Are you seriously going to scold me for laughing to myself?”

“This isn’t a laughing matter. We have a job to do.”

I roll my eyes, but he walks off before he can see me. You’d think the guy didn’t just get laid last weekend or something by his bad attitude.

The paramedics rush in just moments later and the whole scene unfolds. Three stretchers are brought in with patients with minor injuries and Evan directs them to the three nurses to assess them. An unconscious patient is brought into trauma room one and when the last patient is rolled in, I follow Evan into trauma room two.

“Transfer on three,” Evan orders before counting and the nurses and I help him move the patient off the stretcher and onto the hospital bed.

“Patient is a twenty-nine year old female and was the passenger when she got T-boned on her side. Driver said she smacked her head and couldn’t get her to wake up. BP was at ninety over eighty,” one of the paramedics tells us. Veronica is already hooking her up to the blood pressure cuff and heart rate tracker.

“That blood pressure is too low,” Evan mutters, unwrapping his stethoscope from his neck and listening to her heart. “Her heartbeat is slow and her breathing is unsteady. Bag her.”

Moments later, Veronica hands me the equipment to manually ventilate her and Evan watches as I push the tube down her throat and into her lungs. I’ve done this hundreds of times but with his piercing eyes on me, I get nervous.

“Dr. Bell…” His warning tone has my nerves on fire.

“I’ve got it,” I say, attaching the bag to the mask and pumping.

Once he checks for himself, I roll my eyes when his expression doesn’t change. He orders Veronica to check the head wound where blood is pooling and Heather places an IV in the woman’s arm so she can administer medication.

“She has a pretty deep cut near her right temple. Going to clean it up and probably need some stitches,” she tells Evan.

“She might have some internal bleeding, so let’s get radiology in here to do some scans while her breathing is stable for now.”

Evan gets radiology within minutes since they’re in the next room. Once the x-rays are done and processed, we see she has a bleed in her spleen.

“Ruptured spleen,” Evan confirms what I already knew.

“Her abdomen must’ve been hit pretty hard,” I say, handing off the ventilator bag to Heather so I can look at the x-rays more closely.

“Or she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.” Evan’s body tenses and his eyes go dark. His mood shifts, and I wonder what the hell just happened. “Veronica, she needs to be prepped for surgery. Page me when she’s in recovery,” he orders before facing me. “Stay with Veronica and help her prep the patient then find me.”

He walks off before I can respond.

I do as he says and help Veronica while the trauma surgeon comes in all ready to go. We roll her down to the OR and once she’s securely inside, Veronica and I walk out.

“Good job, Dr. Bell,” she praises me, which takes me off guard a bit. I don’t even feel like I did that much, but I smile at her compliment.

“Thanks. You too. You’re the superhero of nurses.” I smile.

She blushes, a small smile gracing her lips. “Thanks, I love my job. Dr. Bishop makes it easy to do my job well.”

My stomach twists at her words, wondering if that means what I’m thinking. Does Veronica have a thing for Evan? I mean, I wouldn’t blame her in the least, but this is only my second shift so who the hell knows.

“It’s obvious you two make a great team. I envy that.”

“We do. It’s nice.” She smiles wide, and that’s all the confirmation I need that she definitely has feelings toward him.

Once we’re back to the ER, I find Evan and wait for his next order. The other three patients are in beds and all stabilized with minor injuries. The other unconscious patient is a child and I rush in to help once Evan calls for my assistance.

“She’s crashing,” one of the nurses shouts, announcing the code.

Evan grabs the crash cart and I add the gel to the paddles before I charge it to three hundred and he shouts, “Clear!”

He shocks her chest and her heart begins beating again. She’s so little, I’m relieved that we don’t have to do it again.

“Bag her,” Dr. Moody orders.

Veronica hands me the tube and supplies, but the tube is too big. “Her throat is too swollen.”

“Here,” she says, handing me a smaller sized one.

I’m quick to grab it and attempt it once again with no luck.

“Veronica, take over for Dr. Bell.” Evan’s tone is cold and harsh.

“I can do it,” I bite out, trying again but the way he’s scolding me with his eyes has my nerves all over the place. I can do this in my sleep, so my frustration grows the longer it takes.

“Veronica, now.”

“I said I got it!” I shout, but it doesn’t matter because Veronica grabs the tube from me and pushes me out of her way. She manages to ease the tube down her throat and quickly attaches everything together.

“Compress the bag,” Evan directs his order at me, keeping his eyes down as he assesses her other injuries that have already been checked. Veronica steps aside so I can take over ventilating. My blood is boiling, but I know I need to remain calm and indifferent right now.

Two hours later, the ER is calm again but that doesn’t mean my annoyance has died down. Evan continues his bossy demeanor, and I’m so irritated with myself that I let him get to me. I’ve done that procedure so many times in my career and have never had issues, but him watching me and shouting made my nerves get the best of me.

I’m sitting in front of my locker, taking angry bites of my licorice when I hear the door behind me open. I immediately know it’s him when the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I prepare myself for an ass chewing.

“That’s a gross habit,” he starts, walking to his locker that I realize is next to mine.

I snort at his first choice of words. “Eating?”

He scoffs, digging around his bag. “That isn’t eating. It’s high in sodium and carbs and filled with corn syrup.”

“Well I could be a smoker. Or drinker.” I smirk. “Or I could—”

“Or you could eat food that’ll help sustain your energy levels instead of falling asleep on the job.”

“I did not fall asleep on the job!” I stand up, appalled at his accusations.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You screaming and shouting at me while I’m trying to do something isn’t how I work!”

“You want to be an ER doctor at a trauma hospital?” he taunts, stepping right into my space. “Then act like it. There’s no time for emotions or your feelings to get hurt. You focus on the patient and you get your shit done. Bagging is med school 101 so forgive me if I have my doubts about you, Dr. Bell.”

We’re both breathing hard and my heart races at an intense speed. Knowing what he looks like under those scrubs has my brain malfunctioning on a witty response. I want to grab his face and kiss the attitude right out of him, but I won’t let him win.

“Though considering your last name, I expected more from you.”

His words sting and I know he said them to get under my skin, but I won’t give him the satisfaction that it hurt. I ignore him and pretend it doesn’t phase me at all.

“Goodnight, Dr. Bishop. Hope you sleep well,” I say smugly, widening my smile before taking another bite of my licorice.

I see the corner of his lips twitch and the thought of driving him crazy the same way he does to me makes me do a little victory dance in my head.

“Sweet dreams, Dr. Bell.” He reaches for his bag and before he turns, grabs the half-eaten piece of licorice out of my hand and walks out.

Bastard.

About the Authors

Brooke Cumberland & Lyra Parish are a duo of romance authors who teamed up to write under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox. They share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!

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Excerpt Reveal – THE THEORY OF UNREQUITED by Len Webster

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HEADS UP angst lovers…

Here’s a taste of The Theory of Unrequited by Len Webster!
It releases April 18th!!!

Young happy couple talking together outdoor - sitting on grass

When Evan arrived at the small ice cream shop and sat down, it was almost two p.m. AJ hadn’t called or messaged to tell him that she had landed. He checked online, but no flights from Boston departing around the time of their last texts had been delayed. He assumed she was stuck in traffic on the way to the café that had her favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream. It was the very café that her cousin, Will, had taken them to when they came out to officially check out Stanford. AJ had him promise her that the next time they were in Los Angeles together, they would return for the ice cream.

And here Evan was.

Sitting at the table by the window, waiting for a cab to pull up and AJ to step out.

“Here you are. A chocolate milkshake,” the kind middle-aged woman who worked the front counter said as she set the tall glass down.

“Thanks,” he said as he grasped the cold glass and set it across from him. It was AJ’s milkshake. She wasn’t a big coffee drinker and only ever liked iced tea or chocolate milkshakes on a hot day.

“You’re welcome, love. You waitin’ on a girl?” she asked.

Evan swung his gaze from the milkshake to the ice cream worker. “Yeah.”

“Aren’t you a sweet thing. You let me know when milkshake girl gets here, so I can say hello. And what a man she has who is willing to wait an hour for her.”

He should have corrected her, but he didn’t.

Evan Gilmore was not AJ Parker’s man.

He was her best friend.

There for her whenever she needed him.

Lifelong friends who would finally spend four years together in college.

Finally, Evan’s life was where he wanted it.

Blissful and right.

“I’ll be sure to call you over when she gets here.”

The waitress winked and then headed back to the counter. His smile faded when he realized she said he had been waiting an hour for AJ. He picked up his cell from the steel table and unlocked it.

No new messages.

Evan pressed on her number and called her. He brought his cell to his ear to hear the rings until her voicemail instructed him to leave a message after the beep. Evan called her five more times as the anxiety and concern wreaked havoc over him.

“Where are you, AJ?” he mumbled as he shot her a text, hoping she’d read it if she couldn’t answer her phone. He knew she hated answering her cell when she was in another person’s company. She found it rude.

Evan: AJ, I’m here. I ordered you a chocolate milkshake. Are you stuck in traffic? Let me know you’re okay.

Then Evan waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For hours, he waited.

Until the same woman who served him was by his side and said, “It’s almost eight p.m., love. We’re gonna close soon. Can I get you something else?”

Rage and embarrassment consumed him.

He had sat on that steel chair long after AJ’s milkshake melted.

He had called her.

Sent her more messages.

She gave him nothing but silence.

“No,” he whispered as he got up from his chair, picking up his phone and the gift bag. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’m sorry she stood you up.”

He nodded his appreciation and made his way out of the cool store into the hot LA night.

Evan was hurt and angry that his best friend had not shown up.

It was the first time in their lives that AJ had broken a promise.

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About Len Webster

Len Webster is a romance-loving Melburnian with dreams of finding her version of ‘The One.’ But until that moment happens, she writes. Having just graduated with her BBusCom from Monash University, Len is now busy writing her next romance about how a boy met a girl, and how they fell completely and hopelessly in love.

She is also not a certified explorer, but she’s working on it.

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Excerpt Reveal – REBEL HEIR by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons:

Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check.

Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check.

How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons:

Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season.

Check. Check. Check.

I should add—especially when the guy is your sexy, tattooed God of a boss.

Especially when he not only owns your place of employment but inherited half of the town.

Especially when he’s mean to you.

Or so I thought.

Until one night when he demanded I get in his car so he could drive me home because he didn’t want me walking in the dark.

That was sort of how it all started with Rush.

And then little by little, some of the walls of this hardass man started to come down.

I never expected that the two of us, seemingly opposites from the outside, would grow so close.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the rebel heir, especially when he made it clear he didn’t want to cross the line with me.

As the temperature turned cooler, the nights became hotter. My summer became a lot more interesting—and complicated.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

 

Rebel Heir is the first book in the Rush Series Duet. Book Two, Rebel Heart, will release six weeks later on May, 22, 2018.

Add to Goodreads ➜ Rebel Heir (Book One)
Add to Goodreads ➜Rebel Heart (Book Two)

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Sign up for Penelope & Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live!

Note: No Amazon ebook pre-order. Will be live on release day.

Rebel Heart Pre-order links ➜ http://www.booksneakpeek.com/therushduet.html

Excerpt

“All done.” I found Gia in the yard sunbathing. Of course, she had to be lying on her stomach so I could get a closer look at her ass. It was fucking phenomenal. Like a chubby, upside-down heart from where I stood. I’d spent the last hour pretend fixing her car and picturing her riding me reverse cowgirl, those ass cheeks jiggling like fucking Jell-O while she rode me hard. I had to force my eyes to her face and clear my throat to continue. “Here are your keys. Your rotors were shot, too. In the future, don’t ride on bad brakes. It just turns a little problem into a big one.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun and twisted her neck to look up at me, still not flipping over to her stomach. “Oh. Okay. Thanks. Can I make you some lunch? It’s the least I can do to repay you for hours of working on my car.”

Is that ass on the menu?

“No. I have to get going.”

She lifted from flat on her stomach to on her knees in a yoga-like pose, taking her sweet ass time before turning over.

“Are you sure?” She bit her bottom lip. “You’ve had to have worked up an appetite.”

Is she fucking with me? I had an appetite alright. “I gotta run.”

I sounded like a broken record, yet here I still stood. My head wanted to get the fuck out of that yard, but my traitorous feet wouldn’t move. Not even when she stood up, turned around and practically rubbed her ass against me as she held up suntan lotion. “Could you rub some sunscreen on my back before you go? I don’t want to burn.”

No. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

I took the sunscreen and squeezed a glob of creamy white lotion into the palm of my hand. Swallowing hard, I began to rub it into her back. Her shoulders were warm and soft with the tiniest little layer of fuzz on it. It reminded me of a peach. My mouth salivated at the thought of biting into her.

“Could you do a little lower?”

My breathing became labored and my cock swelled as I lowered my hands and rubbed into the middle of her back. I was breaching into dangerous territory.

“Lower” she said. I knew from her breathy voice that I wasn’t the only one aroused.

I lowered to just above her bathing suit bottom and rubbed lotion all over.

When I finished, she turned her head so I could see the side of her face and closed her eyes to whisper, “lower.”

Fuck me.

I couldn’t stop myself. I reached for the creamy sunscreen and squeezed enough into my hand to cover a large person’s full body and then began to rub it into her ass cheeks. She had the most unique heart-shaped mole on her left side that was perfectly symmetrical. I ran my fingertips over it. When I trailed a pool of lotion to the top of her ass crack, and slowly rubbed it in tracing the material of her bathing suit in between her cheeks, she let out a low moan.

More. Make more sounds like that.

About the Authors

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over ninety Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

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Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over a million books sold, she is a seventeen-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over fifteen novels, including RoomHate which hit #2 on the New York Times bestseller list and #1 on the Wall Street Journal bestseller list. Other New York Times bestsellers include Stepbrother Dearest, Neighbor Dearest, Drunk Dial, Cocky Bastard, Stuck-Up Suit, Playboy Pilot and Mister Moneybags (the latter four co-written with Vi Keeland).

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Excerpt Reveal – TWO WEDDING CRASHERS by Meghan Quinn

Two Wedding Crashers by Meghan Quinn releases in 3 DAYS!

I don’t know what love is anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.

You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?

Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.

Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?

That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.

It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.

Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.

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Excerpt

Crystal-blue ocean shines below me, and if I wasn’t so scared of Zoey and her repercussions for being late, I would take the time to appreciate Mother Nature. Instead I hurry into my room, flop my suitcase on my bed, unzip it, and grab my toiletries.

Not taking a second longer, I strip down, leaving my gross airplane clothes on the floor, and practically skip to the shower where I stop mid stride.

In the shower stall is a black razor, with accompanying shaving cream. That’s odd. Is that courtesy of the hotel? This place is fancy, but not that fancy. Spinning on my heel, I turn toward the sink behind me and spot a white and green toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, and men’s cologne. Shit, turning toward the room, my eyes frantically roam the space, spotting a black suitcase in the corner.

Shit, shit, shit.

Naked, I cover my breasts with my arm and open the closet door only to come face to face with a few hung-up shirts.

Yup . . . I’m in someone else’s fucking room.

And whoever this room belongs to is the neatest person ever because who honestly lines up there toothbrush and toothpaste tube perfectly on the counter?

Reaching for the phone, I call down to the front desk.

“Mr. Wilder, how can we assist you?” Oh yeah, totally not in the correct room.

“Uh, yeah, hi, this is Rylee Ryan. I just checked in. I was given the key to room 625 and it seems to be occupied.”

“Oh dear, let me check.” There is a pause on the phone and then the lady comes on the line again. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Ryan. We have you in room 626. Would you like to come down here and grab a new key?”

Is she kidding? The trek it took to get over here ate up enough of my time. I can’t possibly take a shower if I have to run back to the lobby, grab a key, and run all the way back here.

“Would you mind bringing it to room 625? I have dinner plans and have to get changed.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll send someone up with a key right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hop around naked, eyeing my pukey clothes on the floor and the shower in the other room. Twisting my lip to the side, I try to decide what to do. I can be super quick, like really fucking quick. I just need to scrub the puke and throw on a dress, simple. Two minutes tops. The water doesn’t even have to be warm. I’ll write a polite note to Mr. Wilder—whoever that is—leave him five dollars as a kind gesture and quietly leave. No problem with that. Right?

Right.

Turning on the shower, I hop in before the water can warm up and hiss from the frosty temperature. I douse soap all over my hands and scrub my neck and body vigorously first, which normally I would wash my hair first but . . . puke. Once I’m satisfied with the amount of scrubbing, I wash my hair, condition it in a minute, do one more soap scrubbing all over my body before rinsing and turning the shower off. Two minutes.

Just in case Mr. Wilder is sitting outside the bathroom, I peek my head out the door, towel wrapped around my body, and call out, “Hello?”

When there is no response, I check that the coast is clear then strut to my suitcase and find a simple black sundress. Not bothering to look for underwear or a bra—I really don’t need one with my perky B-cups—I lay out my dress and dry off.

Hopefully Mr. Wilder doesn’t mind me using one of his towels or his room for that matter. He’s probably some old dude away on his golfing vacation. I hope I don’t give him a heart attack.

I drape my towel over the bed and run my hands through my naturally wavy, black hair. This will have to do. Picking up my towel one more time, I scrunch my hair, trying to soak up all the water just as the hotel door swings open, light blaring through, a tall, dark silhouette shadowed in the doorframe.

I still, frozen from the tips of my toes to the hand scrunching a towel in my hair.

Toned calves and legs are covered by black board shorts, slick to his thighs, a bulge prominent. Narrow waist where his board shorts ride low on his hips, a black shirt dancing across his broad chest, cinching sleeves cuffed over his biceps, and a V-neck providing a glimpse of how far his tan extends. Head cast down, eyes transfixed on his phone in front of him, he doesn’t notice the naked girl standing in the middle of his hotel room. He stuffs his keycard in his back pocket and looks up, startled.

I scream.

He grumbles something unintelligible as I point out the obvious. “Ahhh, my boobs are naked!” It might be a little concerning that I consider my boobs to be the only things naked at this point.

As quickly as I can, I cover my body, towel making a poor attempt to hide my girly bits.

The man turns away, covering his eyes with his arm while muttering, “Oh shit.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, struggling with my towel. I know damn well the man in front of me must be Mr. Wilder, and this is in fact his room, and I’m the one intruding, but I still feel the need to place the blame on him for walking in on me naked.

“Grabbing my sunglasses,” he says, his voice terrified but also deep and rumbly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Still trying to cover myself, I scramble to grab my dress and back up to the bathroom. “Washing my neck,” I answer, nervously, boobs swaying with my erratic movements.

Eyes still covered, he keeps his back toward me but straightens up. “Washing your neck? Is that code for some kind of weird Key West thing?”

I back into the bathroom and make quick attempt of putting my dress over my head and righting it so everything is covered up. Hair still damp as well as my body, I step out into the room and clear my throat, dress sticking to my damp skin. “No, it’s not code for anything. I really had to wash my neck.”

“And you chose my room to do that in, because . . .”

Bending down, I shove my dirty clothes in my bag and zip up, giving Mr. Wilder the heads-up that I’m dressed. At least he’s a gentleman . . .

When he turns around, he eyes me up and down, his gaze curious and heated when he sees just how hard my nipples are from the cold shower . . . and the unexpected peep show.

“I didn’t choose your room to take a shower in.” I move my suitcase to the floor and pull up the handle. “The hotel gave me the key to this room by mistake, and since I had puke on my neck from the airplane—long story—I decided to take a quick shower while I waited for my room. I apologize for taking up your space, but I think we’re skipping an important detail here.” I cock my hand on my hip. “You saw me naked.”

“No, I didn’t,” he retorts rather quickly, despite the slow grin that spreads across his face.

I’m calling bullshit. “You totally saw my boobs.”

“I really didn’t. Your scream scared the shit out of me. I didn’t have enough time to see anything before you covered up.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “You promise you didn’t see anything?”

“Promise.”

Hmm. “Okay, because being hotel neighbors and all, that would be extremely awkward if you saw me naked.”

“Good thing I didn’t then.” He rocks back on his heels, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do. Finally he reaches out to the desk next to him and holds up his black Ray Bans. “Just needed my sunglasses.”


About the Author

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

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