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Showing posts with label Chapter Reveal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter Reveal. Show all posts

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Chapter Reveal For S Van Horne's One More TIme

Title: One More Time Author: S. Van Horne Genre: Romantic Suspense Expected Release Date: July 12, 2016 Hosted by: Lady Amber's Reviews & PR
Blurb: Len-
I have been in love with Dante since the day he knocked on our door to walk with my brother to their first day of their freshman year of high school. Right after they graduated high school I overheard them talking of joining the Navy Seals. I also heard something that crushed me. I decided it was time to get over Dante, time to move on and stop being the stupid, awkward, innocent, annoying friend’s sister. Nine years later, I am being stalked. I had to go to my brother for help. I didn’t know that included Dante in the mix. Once I saw him I knew I still loved him. Maybe now he will see me as the woman I always wanted him to see, even if I still am a virgin.
Dante-
I have had a great life. Amazing family, brothers, kick ass best friend and more women I knew what to do with… well that isn’t true. When Neil and I decided to become Navy Seals I figured I could finally meet someone to take my mind off the one person I knew I could never have, my best friends little sister. Nine years later we get word she is being stalked. I am in a rage to protect the only woman who means more to me then my family. It is time to claim her and show the world that they messed with the wrong woman, damn the consequences.
Can these two finally come together and become what they were destined to be? Or will family, feelings and a stalker be too much to face and destroy what their destiny should be?
S. Van Horne was born and raised in the small town of Belton, Missouri, which is a part of the Kansas City metropolitan area. She is from a very large family and is the oldest of six. Growing up she did not have the easiest life. She learned quickly that family means everything, even if it is the type that you get to pick for yourself. She met the love of her life at the early age of 20 and was married just after nine months of meeting him. Shortly after marriage, her husband rejoined the U.S. Navy and they moved from Kansas City and started their journey together. Currently they have two amazing children, a boy and a girl, and are still enjoying the Navy life. They are looking forward to retiring shortly to the great state of Washington to be closer to their God daughters/nieces and their parents.
She spends her days being a Navy wife, homeschool mother, reading books, writing her latest novel, watching her beloved Kansas City Chiefs or Kansas City Royals play, watching movies, hanging out with family and friends and having girls days at least once a month.
Scared doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now. Looking at my shaking hands, at the note left in my box at work, I’m not sure what to think. I‘m trying to figure out who would send it. I have never lead a guy on. How could I when I’m still stuck on the one guy who thinks of me as his best friend’s annoying little sister. Hearing those words spoken from him broke my heart, but what shattered it was when I’d heard them talk about becoming Navy Seals. Not only was I losing the one guy I had loved since I was twelve. I was losing my brother as well.
Don’t get me wrong, I support my troops, but I was so scared that they were going to die in combat. I’m not dumb, being a Navy Seal is a big thing. I knew that meant dangerous missions without knowing if they were okay. I did all I could in supporting them. I sent care packages, wrote letters, and helped with charity events to raise funds. I visited my brother when he was stateside, a difficult task with me being in school, then in college, and then during my residency to become a doctor. Now that I’m an ER doctor at Center Point Medical Center, I’m even busier.
It helps that my family moved back to Kansas City when I went to college. Even Momma Gio and Papa followed along with the boys in tow. They said they were ready for a change and wanted to join their second family. Now, Neil is done with the Navy and has opened his own security business. Dante joined him in the business.
I haven’t seen Dante since his return. I haven’t seen him in nine years. I have no clue what I’m going to say to him. I don’t want it to be weird, but I know it will be. Ever since the day they left, I had to re-evaluate my feelings constantly.
The chaste kiss he had placed on my lips had not only scared me, but had given me hope. It would have with any sixteen year old girl who had just had her first kiss. But then letters from my brother about the crazy crap they were pulling well and the woman that Dante was screwing, well that changed everything.
“Neil will be with you shortly, Len,” Sara, my brother’s receptionist, tells me as she walks back to her desk.
“Thank you, Sara.” I go and take a seat then look back at her and add, “We really need to set up that girls’ night we keep talking about. I miss hanging with you guys.”
“You’re the one who’s always busy at work. Call Ashley and tell her your schedule. Then we’ll see about getting you in the club and finally getting you a man. We both need a man. We really need to get laid!” she says and then rolls her eyes at the outburst that comes from Neil who is in the next room.
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t ever want to hear about my sister getting laid,” Neil growls out as he joins us.
I don’t miss the look of heat he shoots Sara. I start giggling because I know Neil wants and she wants him; however they are both so oblivious of each other’s wants. I stand up with the letter in hand and walk over to him.
“Aw, there, there, care bear, that doesn’t concern you. I’ll do what I want, when I want. I’m twenty-five years old, not twelve. If I want to sleep with a man I will,” I say, giving Sara a mischievous wink.
She knows I’m a virgin, he doesn’t and I don’t plan on telling him. I just love teasing him.
“I don’t want to hear that. I’ll tell Pops if you don’t stop. I swear to God I’m going to be in jail for murder.”
“If you don’t want to hear about things like that then I suggest you shouldn’t ease drop.” I end up laughing at the look of disgusted on his face as he leads me to the conference room.
“It isn’t ease dropping if what was spoken wasn’t practically being yelled out.” He growls out at me.
“So let’s drop this conversation and you tell me what is so important that you couldn’t wait until I was finished with work,” he says as he sits.
A feeling of terror hits me as I remember why I’m here. Handing him the note, I take a seat as well. Neil and I are very close. He isn’t going to take this threat well. I’m scared of what he’s going to do or say.
Looking at him, watching him read the note, I see the change come over his face immediately. He looks up at me and I am struck with what I see. His blue eyes that have a hint of green in them are now full on green with the fury tightening his jaw and his nostrils flare as he takes in a harsh breath. He picks up the phone off the conference room table and barks three words into the receiver, “Conference room. Now!”
I stare down at the receiver in confusion before I hang it up in the cradle. Lucky isn’t one to let his temper get the best of him. There’s only been a handful of times I’ve seen this side of him. The only thing that can get him this worked up is when his family or one of the guys is being harmed or when we have a sensitive case we are working on. A sense of dread washes over me as I start to get up.
As I turn towards the door, the overhead light gleams off the photos lining my bookcase. My eyes immediately go to the one picture I can’t seem to avoid.
Lens beautiful smile makes me catch my breath. She is the one woman that I can’t get out of my head.  I’m looking forward to seeing her again at the party this weekend.
Over the years, I got letters and care packages from her. I wrote her back and sent her things I bought from places all over the world. She never sent a picture and when she came to visit Lucky, I would make myself scarce because I knew that if I were to see her, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from making her mine. I didn’t want her to be waiting back home not knowing if I was ever coming back. So when they would skype, I would go into the other room. I also couldn’t chance Lucky knowing that I had fallen for his kid sister.
It had hit me when she was sixteen. She was already such and amazing woman and she hadn’t even finished growing yet.
I knew I would run into Len since I made the choice to move to Kansas City with Lucky and start Seal Security. I wasn’t giving up the opportunity to work with my brothers and the guys from our troop even if that meant I couldn’t avoid her.
We aren’t your average private investigators’. We specialize in security systems, bodyguard work, missing persons, and stalking. We work a lot with the Kansas City Police Department.
We also have our own motorcycle club that we started. Not one of those one percent MC’s which are considered an outlaw MC because they don’t follow the laws. We’re just a bunch of guys who love to ride bikes, but also, we help with charity drives, special victims, and help around the community. Well, we haven’t officially started, but that is what we are planning. Right now, we just ride together.
I head out of my office and down the hall to the conference room. I hear Sara talking on the phone to one of her girlfriends. It has to be Ashely because out of all the girls those two are the closest.
“Yes, we need to have a girls’ night asap. We need to find some men. I need to get laid and we need to get Len laid too. She needs to give up that v-card already.”
That stops me in my tracks. Holy Shit, she’s still a virgin. That’s going to make this weekend even harder when I see her. You would think it would make me want her less, only, it just makes me want to claim her all the harder.
Shaking my head, I walk into the conference room. The first thing I notice is the back of a small woman being comforted by Lucky.
He looks up at me and then leans down to whisper into her ear. The man is seriously hung up on Sara, so I know gesture isn’t sexual since he’s hung up on Sara. Shifting slightly, he looks at me again.
“We have a problem.”
He nods to a piece of paper on the table. As I’m picking it up, I shoot him a odd, sidelong glance.
“Squirt, go to the bathroom and wash up, okay? I’m going to fill Dante in on the situation. Come back when you’re better. Don’t worry about anything. We’ll never let anything happen to you.”
My head jerks up and I’m caught in a pair of amazing blue eyes. The same eyes that have haunted me every day since I was eighteen. She’s even more beautiful than the last time I saw her and my body takes notice. I’m harder than I have been in ages.
Her hair is a brighter blonde then I remember and lies over her shoulders. She’s in a light dress that hugs her curves just right. Her dress has a V neck that shows off her full breasts. Her legs are tan and long, and I want them wrapped around my waist as I pound into her. She’s wearing these fuck me shoes that I can almost feel pressing into my back. I can just assume that the rest of her body that I can’t see because of her sitting down is going to be just as hot. My gaze travels back up her body to her eyes where I can see the fear that is running deep in her soul.
“Hey Dante, long time no see. I wish it was under better circumstances,” Len says as she smiles at me sadly, then she looks back at Neil. “I’ll be back in a second.”
She stands up and walks towards the door. Damn, she has an ass that won’t stop. Seeing the sway of her body has the air knocking out of my lungs. There is no way I’m going to be able to stay away from her now. Lucky is going to kill me.
I look over at Lucky. He seems pissed and I pull myself together.
“What’s up, Lucky?”
“Look at the note. As I said, we have a problem.”
I look down at the note and what I see has me seeing red.
LEN,
IF YOU THINK YOU CAN FLIRT WITH ANY MAN THAT WALKS IN HERE, AFTER YOU HAVE GIVEN ME YOUR HEART? YOU BETTER THINK AGAIN. STOP FLIRTING WITH DR. SMITH, OR I’LL KILL HIM AND PUNISH YOU.
YOURS ALWAYS.
Oh, problem is not a big enough word to describe what I’m reading. What’s in my hand … calls the beast in me to come to the surface. All I see is blood, and it isn’t mine. Shit’s going to hit the fan, heads are going to roll, and someone is going to die a very slow and painful death. Nobody threatens my woman and lives.
Lucky must have seen the thirst for blood in my eyes, because he goes from rage, to shock, to something I’m unable to distinguish. I know what he’s seeing. I’ve been trying to hide it from him and the world for years. Now, it’s time to let them all know that little Len belongs to me. Damn the consequences, because no one can protect her better than the man who is willing to die or kill to keep her safe.

Thursday, 5 February 2015

Chapter Reveal For Eve Connell's Where We Belong




Title: Where We Belong
Author: Eve Connell
 Release Date: February 19, 2015


Synopsis


One man diving into the past.

One woman emerging from the depths.

At the age of seventeen, Amelia Baide won silver at the Olympic Games and was the second-fastest woman in the pool. Then one tragic night she crashed into a lake and was dragged out without a pulse. Now twenty-four, she is still haunted by it and hasn’t swum again. Until this year’s anniversary of the accident. It is a day unlike any other and a strange turn of events finds Amelia back at a swimming pool.

Harry Jamieson had eyes for one girl, while women and the media had eyes for him. As a trainer of Olympic athletes, he was an in-demand man. Until one boozy morning after … But from bad luck to pure chance he runs into his old flame, Amelia, at a swimming pool no less. She doesn’t remember a thing from the night of the crash.

And Harry knows every single secret.

The pair joins forces—a comeback for Amelia and Harry’s ultimate coaching opportunity. But dodging waves is hard to do; and even the strongest swimmer may sink.

Where We Belong is a second-chance love story for young and old, for swimming enthusiasts and romantics at heart.



Chapter 1

 

Amelia


We had the fight moments after I slipped the robe off my shoulders into a pool around my feet. I had one foot on the shower base, one on the plush rectangular mat.
At that moment, my fiancé, Kristopher, knocked from the other side of the bathroom door, which I’d already locked for privacy.
He had this tendency often. The first word he would speak to me all day? As I stepped into the shower. Was it okay if he went out with his friends instead of the dinner reservation? As I stepped into the shower. His solution to cancer? As I stepped into the shower.
Clenching my jaw, I awaited the question.
“Aftershave, Amelia?” he asked.
I sighed. “You should have gotten it when I told you I needed to shower. Or while I collected my creams and lotions and make-up. Or while I sniffed around for a clean towel in your stash in the corner.”
The soap—as we both knew—was irrelevant in this argument. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if we stayed together out of laziness. And maybe we did. Because I hated many characteristics about my fiancé. Especially his ignorance of this anniversary.
It was September twenty-ninth.
This year I called my boss’s mobile at the crack of dawn to fake a sick day, playing up my groggy tone as a terrible sore throat in addition to a nauseous tummy. She told me to get well, and I swallowed the news with a lump in my throat, guilty for lying. I was an assistant for a medium-sized advertising business and handled paperwork, invoicing and calls all day long—it wasn’t like my absence would be of consequence to day-to-day activities. I’d pick it up tomorrow.
Last year Kristopher and I made dates apart with our respective best friends, and I’d spent it eating all the ice cream along a strip of shops down the coast. I’d thrown up once and then kept on going. Jaffa flavour, I remember.
I’d licked and slurped the drips down the paper cup, and only thought twice of the anniversary. Once on the drive down to the beach, and then once as I’d clutched the sides of a rusty public bin and spewed my guts up to the backdrop of disgusted gasps from passers-by.
I don’t know what Kristopher did that day, but he came back when the night sky was a deep sapphire blue, whisky on his breath as he climbed in bed behind me.
The year before I took a day off from work and spent $600 buying cocktail dresses I would never have occasion to wear. The next day I donated them to charity.
Six years ago today, I died. Hence, it was the one time of the year we didn’t forget the date. Unlike some years when we had to shop for Christmas gifts at two am on the twenty-fourth.
I stared down the white door of the bathroom, one foot tingling with the sharp cold of the shower base, hand clutching the knob. I stepped back onto the tiles, accepting defeat.
“Come on, Amelia,” he said in a low tone. “Just one Goddamn bottle of aftershave. That’s all I need.”
“No. Just wait till I’m done.”
“Babe.”
“Amelia,” I said.
“Amelia, please,” he said, voice breaking. “I haven’t showered and I stink. I just need a few fucking sprays, and I’ll be out of your way all day.”
I gritted my teeth and hobbled from toe to toe, the cold seeping up my legs. If we kept going on like this staying out of each other’s way was pointless. We knew how to nip at each other’s sensitive spots in a way learned from several years of being together. I saw the forthcoming crash, clenched my eyes shut against the pain. My shoulders heaved, bracing for impact.
Was this what happened to me just before my crash?
Was there a moment of wide-eyed fear as my corded, muscled arms grabbed the wheel at the proper ten and two positions, and I flew through the air, reduced to a thin, crushed and crumpled body at the bottom of the lake?
Hot tears grew heavy behind my eyelids as something inside me snapped. I shut the gate to the horrific visions.
It was too late to shower.
Kristopher banged his fist on the door, the boom echoing. I bent and hurried on my new clothes folded on the counter.
“Come on. This is beyond a joke. It will take you a few seconds to pass it.” The door rattled, the handle jerking, but I’d locked the door already. “Amelia.”
I slipped my arms into the cardigan and threw open the door, despite the bags under my eyes and the chill settling over my chest because of the unbuttoned front.
I said, “Have it all,” pushing the aftershave bottle into his chest, then rushed past him.
And I didn’t look back.


 

Chapter 2

 

Harry

 

I woke to star- and heart-shaped glow-in-the-dark stickers radiating in neon green from the ceiling. A ceiling I’d never seen before in my life—typically, I wasn’t the sort of man to befriend the fancy sticker type of person.
It was pre-dawn, barely so, the sun a tiny orb just under the horizon through the crack in the curtains.
My world swayed as I tilted my head. I held my ears in my palms, and my fingers weaved through the messy state of my bed hair. Under the purple sheets, my stomach churned, and farther down, morning glory unstuck from the aforementioned undelightful purple sheets. I crawled out of the bed.
What the fuck was this? I thought. And where the fuck was I?
I remembered flashes from the previous night. A club, a slime party, and breathy kisses with the girl who lay splayed under these purple sheets beneath her stars and hearts glow-in-the-dark ceiling.
Viol … Vick … no, it was Vivienne. No, wait, Vivienna.
I smiled, proud of my achievement. But that dropped into a wobbly set of lips. My stomach churned again. I lurched into the attached bathroom and retched, wiping myself clean with water.
Even though I was ninety-nine-point-nine per cent certain I fucked Vicky (or Vivienna), I shivered at the thought of sharing her toothbrush, so I used the handy finger-stick in lieu and then the mouthwash beside the basin.
Feeling somewhat refreshed, I let out a deep breath and looked around the bathroom, not much of a better sight than the bedroom. The towels were white and pale purple, the soap purple, and more stickers dotted along the corners of the mirror above the basin.
I stared at my reflection, disgusted.
My hair Mohawked, askew to one side, a chunk plastered across my forehead in a teenage boy-crush style. I fussed it around with my hands. It looked as if I just had sex, which was better than it had moments prior.
I stepped back into her bedroom, peering amongst the sheets and all her hair. I sighed upon seeing her, confirming one thing. She had the youthful expression of someone I hoped was legal. I was twenty-eight, she perhaps twenty or twenty-one. I hoped.
Since she was still asleep, I returned to the bathroom and looked around for supplies to make myself appear more human. But I caught my reflection in the mirror and stalled. My tan skin and dark hair vividly contrasted against my steel-blue eyes. Most noticeably, a bloodshot glare, lined with purple bags, rolled lazily at the reflection.
I didn’t suspect my pick-up techniques from last night would have worked if I’d looked like this.
Just twelve or so hours ago, one look at Vivienna and she was under my arm, my lips near her ear telling her things she wanted to hear.
I wished I’d had the foresight to stop drinking and pick up her nuisances: the squeals I thought made her sound cute, the frilly neckline of her dress more girly than sweet, and the bright purple shoes. The poor woman had a young girl trapped inside her body.
I looked through the doorway and whispered, “You’re a little crazy, Purple Vivienna.”
I never should have—
Stop, Harry. I told myself. Find some deodorant, get some clothes on, and get out of here.
So I did just that. Then I walked out of her bedroom without a note or text. I didn’t have her number, plus she didn’t care for me.
The others didn’t, either. They thought they cared.
But they wanted the thrill of a night with the Harry Jamieson.
A night of passion and drinking with the idea of love.
One of us had to have our heads screwed on.
With mine teetering on the right side of sanity, I dashed out and found my car parked by the kerb outside her house, hoping she’d been sober enough by the end of the night to drive it. I knew with absolute certainty I wouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel.
I didn’t drive after drinking. Not anymore.
I travelled home, which took an hour—a long way for pussy, even by my standards—and did the whole routine: shower, force down some hangover-cure food, spend the rest of the day watching TV like a zombie. Late afternoon, I got onto all my emails, responding to meetings, questions and other ad hoc business, then prepared some training sessions for my swimmers.
When I woke the next morning, I stumbled drowsily onto my front lawn in just a pair of sleeping pants and retrieved the delivered roll of newspaper. My neighbour, having noticed my exit, darted her eyes away and scurried inside her house.
I never claimed to be a sight for sore eyes in the morning. But what the hell was that about?
Five minutes later, as I tipped a steaming cup of coffee to my lips, I saw the headline and cursed, spraying coffee all over my granite countertop.






Author Bio


Writer, kid-at-heart, awesome partner, graphic design dabbler, book lover.



Author Links

Monday, 20 October 2014

Chapter Reveal For J Daniel's Sweet Possession Book 2 In The Sweet Addiction Series




Title: Sweet Possession
Series: Sweet Addiction #2
Author: J Daniels
 Release Date: September 19, 2014


Synopsis

A sassy, in-your-face baker. A panty-stealing, dirty-talking accountant. And a bathroom quickie that changed their lives forever.

Wedding hook-ups never amount to anything.

Unless that hook-up knocks you on your ass.

For Dylan Sparks and Reese Carroll, the big day can’t arrive soon enough. Dylan, stressed to the max from overbearing mothers and last minute preparations, struggles to keep her sanity. As for Reese, he’s fighting to not only keep his bride-to-be safe from creepy investors, but also to make it to the actual wedding day without losing his mind in the process.

Throw in a crazy group of friends, and a bachelor/bachelorette party weekend getaway, and you have a recipe for the sweetest wedding of the year.

Reese Carroll and Dylan Sparks cordially invite you to read Sweet Possession.










Links to Buy




Also Available






Why do people even bother with weddings?
I know, that sounds insane coming from a person who makes a living off creating decadent wedding cakes for the happy couples. The crazy-in-love future Mr. and Mrs. are what keeps Dylan’s Sweet Tooth afloat, and without weddings, I wouldn’t be able to afford my rent. Not to mention the fact that if it weren’t for dumbass ex-boyfriend weddings, there’s a chance I would’ve never have met Reese and I honestly can’t imagine not having him in my life. But in my defense, I’ve never had to sit and listen to hours of debating whether cotton-blend or silk napkins are the best choice for my big day.
Until now.
Joey lets out an irritated sigh and gestures toward the direction of my mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law who are loudly arguing at my consultation table. “This shit makes me want to drink at 9:00 a.m. How many times have I suggested to you that we keep hard liquor in the back? We could totally make a drinking game out of this mess.”
I tilt my head up to meet his eyes. “What, and take a shot every time one of them utters the phrase, ‘this will be the wedding I’ve always dreamed of’? We’d be tanked before the lunch rush.”
He nods, smiling over his coffee cup. “Exactly, and we’d be completely oblivious to this annoying discussion that you couldn’t care less about anyway.”
Joey’s right. I really didn’t care what type of fabric the napkins were; I really didn’t care about much of anything. I’ve pretty much left everything in the hands of my trusted best friend who could plan a wedding wearing a blindfold. I only had a few stipulations: the cake and my dress. That’s it. Napkins? Who the fuck cares about napkins?
He slides closer to me, dropping his voice to a hushed whisper although, with the noise level currently booming through the bakery, I’ll definitely be the only one hearing him. “I knew your mother was a little nutty when it came to marrying you off, planning this shit since you were nineteen and all, but Reese’s mother is bat-shit crazy. Did you hear her say she wanted to come out with us for your bachelorette party? Can you imagine?”
I shrug once before leaning against the counter. “I don’t even know what I want to do for that. Maybe we’ll just have like a spa day or something and if that’s the case, who cares if she tags along?”
His mouth drops open, letting escape a loud, dramatic gasp. “Um, no. We will be going to a strip club if I have to throw you over my shoulder and pull a Reese on you myself. That’s what you do for bachelorette parties. Why the hell do my two best friends not know that?”
“Excuse you. Juls’ bachelorette party didn’t involve any naked men, and we still had a great time. Who says we have to go to a strip club?”
“I do,” he says through a tense jaw. “The only reason I let that shit slide for Juls was because I was in charge of babysitting her dumbass sister, and I knew I’d be distracted if I had a bunch of dicks in my face.”
I arch my brow at him. “Isn’t that a typical Saturday night for you?” We both chuckle together, and my attention is suddenly drawn to my mother who is throwing napkins into the air.
“Dylan, sweetheart, silk or cotton-blend?” she asks, tapping her foot on the hard tile.
I flick my gaze between the two mothers who are both silently pleading with me to pick their choice. If I had to guess, I’d say my mother wants the silk, but Maggie Carroll is giving off a bit of a fancy vibe right now. She’s head to toe in designer clothing, which is screaming silk at the moment. Shit. I really don’t care one way or the other, but who the hell do I side with on this one? I grimace and nervously tap on the glass display case. “Um, does it matter? They’re napkins. People are going to be wiping their mouths with them.”
“It matters a great deal,” Maggie says, picking up two napkin swatches and carrying them over to me. “The silk is much more sophisticated. And given the location you’ve chosen for the reception, I think that’s the one you should go for.”
“But the cotton blend comes in this antique-white color that would go beautifully with the pale-gray bridesmaids dresses,” my mother adds, joining Maggie’s side.
Jesus. Since when does it matter if the napkins match the bridesmaid dresses?
I look back and forth between the two of them before turning toward Joey. “Thoughts?”
“Nope. I’m afraid you’re on your own there, cupcake.” He backs away and sips his coffee, leaving me alone in my misery.
I reach out and feel both choices between my fingers. “Um, well, I guess the cotton is most likely cheaper? So, why don’t we go with that?”
Maggie gently lays her hand on top of mine. “Oh, sweetie, money is not an issue. If you want the silk napkins…”
“She just said she wants the cotton blend,” my mother states with a firm tone. “Which I agree with, sweetheart. Beautiful choice.”
“But, Helen, the silk would be so much more… elegant.”
I drop my forehead to my hands and groan my irritation while the two of them continue to hash it out. Who cares about napkins! Am I completely crazy for not giving a shit about this tiny, insignificant detail? The guests could wipe their mouths on their coat sleeves for all I care.
This is how it’s been for the past six months. Ever since Reese and I got engaged, our mothers have been in a battle of who can plan the better wedding, and poor Juls and I have been stuck in the middle, trying to rein in the madness. They’ve been so crazy about this whole thing, I’ve found myself contemplating the benefits of a Vegas wedding. Unfortunately, my soon-to-be husband is dead-set on marrying me in front of all our families and is having no part of that discussion. Every time I suggest he steal me away for a quickie wedding, he just shuts me up with his mouth, or his cock. And because I’m weak with lust around that man, and given the fact my head is sure to explode soon from all this momma drama, I bring it up. Often.
The front door chimes and I look up, smiling as my best friend strolls into the bakery. She takes one look at the mothers waving napkin swatches into the air and immediately goes into wedding-planner mode.
“Ohhhh, no. There will not be any changes made. Give me those.” She snatches the napkin samples from the two mothers who both stare at her with shocked expressions. This is the Juls I know and love, the one who knows how to run shit. “This wedding is happening in ten days, and all decisions are final. And really, the napkin issue? Again?” She motions toward me with a crumpled-up napkin in her hand. “The bride-to-be doesn’t care about the napkins. In fact, you two are the only people I know who have ever cared about the napkins. And I’ve planned over one hundred weddings. For the love of God, let it go.”
My mother crosses her arms over her chest and sneers at Juls. “You know what, Julianna? One of these days, when you’re planning your daughter’s wedding, you’ll care about the napkins.”
“I seriously doubt that. Besides, I’m planning on having all boys.”
Maggie and my mother grab their purses off the consultation table while Juls smiles in her minor victory over the two of them. The moms both walk around the counter and smother me with affection.
“We’re going to go swing by the venue to take another look around,” Maggie says as she releases me from a hug. “Now, don’t forget to let me know about the bachelorette party. I’m all in.”
“Ha!” Joey yells from the kitchen.
I smile and clear my throat loudly, hoping to cover up the end of my dear assistant’s crack-up. “Tell Mr. Carroll I said hello.”
My mother kisses my cheek and smiles. “I’m sure the napkins you originally picked out will suffice.”
“Mom,” I say in a warning tone. “There’s still a chance I’ll convince Reese to cancel this whole thing and get hitched in Vegas.” Her eyes widen, along with Maggie’s who swivels in place to gawk at me. “Don’t push it.”
“That’s not even funny,” she retorts, swatting at me with her clutch.
Once the two wedding-obsessed mothers exit the shop, Juls lets out an ‘I’m glad I’m not in your shoes’ chuckle and Joey reemerges from the back. I slouch back against the counter top, feeling a Vegas wedding now more than ever. “I cannot wait until all this is over with. How I’ve managed to survive the last six months without being heavily-medicated or drunk off my ass twenty-four hours a day is beyond me.”
“Reese’s mother, though she has impeccable fashion sense, is out of her mind. I am not having a fucking chaperone at your bachelorette party,” Joey states with a shake of his head. Apparently, keeping my future mother in-law away from whatever I decide to do for my last night of freedom is his only concern.
Juls tosses the napkin swatches into the trashcan, which will hopefully be the last time I ever lay eyes on them. She returns to her spot on the other side of the display case. “Speaking of which, what are we doing for that, anyway? You wanna go to Clancy’s like we did for mine? That was fun.”
Joey slams his hand down on the counter, gaining our attention immediately. “For fuck’s sake. What the hell is wrong with you two? Spa days? Clubs that have been played out? I wanna do things that I’ll be ashamed to tell people about. Let me live, damn it.”
“I’m sorry, but is this your bachelorette party? Did Billy pop the question and you’ve decided to keep that information from us?” Juls asks, biting back her smile. It cracks through and she winks at Joey whose mood has suddenly waned, no doubt in response to the reminder that he isn’t engaged yet.
He shrugs dismissively. “Whatever. You bitches can celebrate with watered-down drinks and facials. Just don’t be surprised if I bail on it.”
I slide closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his shirt. Tilting my head up, I see him smiling down at me. “I’ll choose something fun. You have to be there; it wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“She’s right.” Juls rounds the counter and mimics my position against Joey’s back. “We’d miss you terribly, JoJo.”
He grunts above us. “You’re lucky I’d do anything for either one of you.” Juls and I both unlock our death grips from him and stand side by side. “But I swear to Christ, there better at least be a cake shaped like a penis at this thing.”
“Chocolate or vanilla?” I ask teasingly.
He smiles, bending down and removing a half-empty tray of pastries from the display case. “Chocolate. I’ve never had black dick.”
Juls and I both chuckle as he walks toward the kitchen, giving us a scandalous eyebrow raise over his shoulder.
“So, I have a favor to ask you.” Juls pulls me into the far corner behind the bakery counter, clearly wanting to put distance between this favor and Joey. Oh, Lord. My best friend doesn’t ask me for many favors but when she does, they’re usually whoppers. A certain wedding dress she made me try on months ago comes to mind. I motion for her to spill it, and she eyes me up nervously. “Umm… so, Brooke got fired from her job at that bank. Apparently, she was caught blowing one of the other tellers during work hours.”
“Good Lord.”  That sounds about right, though. Brooke Wicks was in the running for horniest bitch in Chicago, competing solely with Joey.
“Yeah, she needs a job and fast; otherwise, she’ll lose her apartment.” My eyes widen, the realization of her favor hitting me. “And since you’re so busy at the shop…”
“No fucking way.”
 She fists both hands at her side. “Oh, come on, Dyl. She’s having trouble finding something, and she’s been looking for over a month.” Her face softens and she reaches out to me, pulling my hand into hers. “Please? If she loses her apartment, she has to move in with Ian and me. And that shit can’t happen. I love my sister, but I can’t live with her.”
“What about moving back in with your parents?”
“Not an option. She and my mom would kill each other.” She pauses and squeezes my hand gently. “I really want to help her out.”
Damn it. This has bad news written all over it, but I have trouble saying no to Juls. She’s always been there for me. Always. I groan and her eyes light up. “Fine. She can start Monday. But don’t think I won’t fire her just because she’s your sister.” She pulls me into a hug with an excited squeal. I cringe as Joey strolls through the doorway, coming from the kitchen. He grins, adorably oblivious to the information that will surely send him into a shit-fit. “I should really make you drop this bomb on him,” I mumble under my breath.
“Oh, relax. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that.”
We both release each other and Juls spins on her heels, walking over toward Joey and placing her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t freak out.”
His eyes widen with a curious fear. “If I don’t get my penis cake, I’ll disown both of you. Nobody comes between me and my dick-shaped sweets.”
I walk up to him and brace myself for the reaction that is sure to blow the roof off this building. “Joey. JoJo. Bestest friend.” He rolls his eyes as I play with the string on my apron, wrapping it around my finger. “You know how busy we’ve been lately with custom orders and all the spring weddings coming up? It’s getting pretty crazy in here, and I think maybe it’s time I hired another employee.”
“That’s fantastic.” His body relaxes and he glances between Juls and myself. His brows set into a hard line. “Why the hell do I have a feeling I’m about to regret those words?”
“Just remember how much you love us,” Juls says. “And this… addition will allow you and Dylan to spend more time together. The benefits are sure to outweigh any concern you might have.”
I pause, waiting to see if he’ll pick up on the clues that are obvious to me. It only takes him a few seconds; the reaction spreads through him like a wild fire.
He squeezes his eyes closed tightly, reaching up and rubbing his temples with his fingers. “Please tell me this addition is a blind monkey, because they would surely get more accomplished than who I fear you’re about to say.”
“Brooke could be a good addition, Joey,” I state with a mild assurance.
“Are you insane? Why the fuck would you hire that mess?”
Juls shoves his arm. “Hey! She’s my sister, and she’s been through a lot.”
“A lot of what? Dick? Dylan, this is not a good idea.”
I limply shrug. I’m not at all surprised he’s reacting this way; in fact, I predicted it. But, unlike Joey, I’m willing to give Brooke the benefit of the doubt. And as long as she doesn’t try to molest him like the day before Juls’ wedding, things shouldn’t get too hostile. I gotta give the girl a chance. “She needs a job or she’ll lose her apartment.”
He throws his hands into the air. “Oh, I’m sorry. How is that our problem?”
“Joey,” Juls scolds. “Don’t be so rude.”
“She’s on a probationary period. If she messes up, I’ll fire her without thinking twice about it. Right, Juls?”
She nods in my direction before turning back toward my heated assistant. “Right. So, calm the fuck down, JoJo.” She makes a face at him and he issues her his smile, softening her expression. “And a lot of dick? Like you’re one to talk.”
The three of us start laughing, letting go of the stress of knowing Brooke Wicks will soon be gracing us with her presence. This could actually be a good thing. We are extremely busy, and having another employee means being able to spend more time in my kitchen instead of ringing up customers. So, I’m not going to let this worry me; I have enough stress with my upcoming wedding to last me a lifetime.
Juls gives us both hugs before she exits the shop to go tackle a bride. Just as a customer slips inside and makes her way up to the counter, my phone beeps in my pocket. Joey gives me a smile, indicating he’s got things handled and allows me to slip into the back.
Reese: What are you wearing?
I giggle as I hop onto a stool.
Me: Are you spanking it right now, handsome?
Reese: That depends on your answer.
I’m definitely not wearing anything worthy of a wank session. My ripped skinny jeans and flour-covered apron have seen better days, so I let my imagination take over.
Me: A skin-tight, pale-pink dress that stops just below my panty line. Or, it would, if I was wearing panties.
Reese: You are such a tease. Do you have any idea how hard my dick is for you right now? I could probably fuck you through a wall.
Jesus.
Me: It’s a shame you’ll have to handle that situation on your own. I’m locked in consultations the rest of the day. Otherwise, I’d give you a hand. Or a mouth.
Reese: You can handle my situation as soon as you get home. I want that pussy wet and ready for me.
I smile, loving that dominant edge in every word he types.
Me: Always is.
No imagination needed there.




  

Author Bio

J. Daniels was born and raised in Maryland.

After putting her kids to bed, she escapes into her cheeky world where some of her characters kiss, and some of them do a lot more than kiss.

She is an avid reader and enjoys everything from unconventional romance to fantasy novels.
 


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