Ready the
Pickles, Keane Morgan is finally here!
Meet Keane in this
STANDALONE romantic comedy!
(No Prior reading
required)
BUY NOW!!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2asc2xT
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/29XGgau
iBooks: http://apple.co/2aisFfT
Nook: http://bit.ly/2a9KfDc
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2alSfU0
Blurb
Keane
Morgan wouldn’t return any of my calls or texts, and I was pissed as hell about
it. I didn’t want to drive from Seattle to L.A. with the guy any more than he
wanted to drive with me, but I had no frickin’ choice in the matter--at least,
not if I wanted to use his brother Dax’s coveted parking spot at UCLA.
Okay,
so it turned out Keane was objectively gorgeous, and, fine, pretty funny, too.
But did he have to be so damned in love
with himself? I mean, jeez, the cocky way he flashed those dimples was just so orchestrated. And, honestly, what kind
of guy uses the phrase “baby doll” with a straight face? Oh, that’s right: the kind of guy who’s a male stripper.
Yup,
the cocky jerk turned out to be Seattle’s answer to Magic Mike, a stripper
known as “Ball Peen Hammer”--which meant Keane Morgan was emphatically not the kind of guy I’d ever fall for.
Not.
At. All.
No
freakin’ way.
Well,
until Keane convinced me to fall for him, that is.
Which
I did.
Hard.
Excerpt
As they exchange information, I make my way to
the end of my aisle and loop into theirs, not taking my eyes off Baby Face the
whole time. Shit. This dude’s hunting Maddy so hard, it’s making my blood boil.
Jesus, he’s going full-throttle rifle on
Maddy’s ass right now, completely foregoing his crossbow altogether.
When I reach the two of them in the middle of
their aisle, I shuffle past the dude and stand next to Maddy, shoulder to
shoulder, and then, on a sudden impulse, put my arm around her shoulders and
squeeze her tight, making her wobble in place at the unexpected jolt to her
balance. “Hey, sis,” I say, squeezing her like a rag doll. “You totally fell
down on your candy-acquiring duties.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She subtly wiggles out of
my grasp. “Brian and I got into this hilarious argument about the best candy
bar of all- time, and—”
“And I’m totally right,” Brian says, cutting
her off, and they both chuckle at some inside joke.
“No, I’m
totally right,” Maddy corrects.
Brian smiles at her. “I’ll actually be down in
L.A. in a month. How ’bout I call you then?”
“Great.”
“Nice to meet you, man,” Brian says, looking
at me. He nods but doesn’t put out his hand.
I nod back.
Brian strolls away, buys a Snickers bar and a
can of Red Bull, and leaves with a little wave to Maddy.
The minute he’s out the door, Maddy takes a
giant step away from me, her face etched with annoyance. “What was that?” she asks.
“What?”
“That weird thing you just did?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maddy puts on an exaggerated scowl, like she’s
Hulk Hogan eying an opponent. “’Hey, Brian,’” she says in a low voice, clearly
intending to imitate me but sounding more like Arnold Schwarzenegger imitating
Maddy imitating me. “’I’m Maddy Milliken’s bodyguard and I’m going to beat you
the hell up now,’” she adds.
“What are you talking about?” I say,
chuckling.
Maddy pauses, assessing me, and finally
shrugs. “Nothing. I guess I imagined it.”
“Imaged what?”
“Your weird... I dunno... vibe.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I was worried about you.”
“Worried about me? I was standing in a
minimart, buying candy. Pretty low-risk activity, I’d say.”
“Uh, you absolutely were not standing in a minimart, buying candy—you totally fell down on
that job, dude. You were standing in a minimart, getting picked up by a douche.
And second of all—”
“What?”
Shit. What the fuck am I doing? I’ve got to
stop this shit right now. “Don’t get riled up, baby doll,” I say in my most
soothing voice. “All I’m saying is you took so damned long in here, I started
thinking maybe the store was getting robbed or you’d fallen into the toilet or
something.”
Maddy twists her mouth. “Brian didn’t seem the
least bit douchey to me.”
I shrug.
“What gave you the impression he’s a douche?”
“Just a figure of speech. So are you gonna do
the job I hired you to do or not?” I motion to the candy rack. “‘Cause based on
your performance thus far, you’re totally fired.”
“And I wasn’t getting ‘picked up,’” Maddy
says, her tone full of indignation. “Brian’s brother goes to UCLA. Can’t I talk
to a helpful, nice guy without it being some sort of a sleazy pick-up?”
“Sure you can. However, in this instance, you
were talking to a helpful, nice guy who was picking you up so he can bone the
living fuck outta ya.”
“Keane.”
Maddy’s cheeks burst with color. “Don’t say that. Oh my god. You’re insane.
Brian was just being helpful, that’s all.”
“Yeah, so he can bone the living fuck outta
ya.”
“Stop saying that. Please. It’s offensive and
absolutely not true. This topic of conversation is officially over.”
My Review
About the Author
USA Today
and internationally bestselling author Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego,
California, where, in addition to writing books, she performs with her
dance/party band at events all over Southern California, writes songs, takes
embarrassing snapshots of her ever-patient Boston terrier, Buster, spends time
with her wonderful family, and narrates audiobooks. Much to Lauren’s thrill,
her books have been translated all over the world in multiple languages and hit
multiple domestic and international bestseller lists. With enticing characters,
enthralling situations and a general love of romantic fiction, Lauren has
created a world of her own, full of wit and sensual desire.
GIVEAWAY
Signed Paperback of Ball Peen Hammer
Subscribe to:
Post Comments
(Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment