Blog Tour, Review & Excerpt – Change with Me, Kristen Proby
December 3, 2021 | Posted in Blog Tour, Excerpt, Review | By Two Book Pushers
Change with Me, an all new roommates to lovers, Hollywood romance from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby and 1,001 Dark Nights, is available now!
From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes an all new novella set in her beloved With Me In Seattle series…
Zane Cooper. Hollywood royalty. Fourth generation superstar. He knows what it is to be one of the biggest celebrities in the world. And how lonely that title truly is. When scandal hits, his career hangs in the balance, and Zane flees LA for Seattle, laying low with his newly married best friend. Things will eventually blow over, and he’ll have his life back soon enough.
Aubrey Stansfield arrives in Seattle excited to start a new job, and eager to settle into her new home. But when she arrives at her rental, Aubrey’s sure she’s imagining things because the uber sexy Zane Cooper is unpacking in her new bedroom. Thanks to a rental snafu, and unwilling to relocate on such short notice, Aubrey and Zane are thrust into being roommates.
Aubrey is about as average as a woman gets, so what could the megastar possibly see in her? She tells herself she’s not interested, despite their undeniable chemistry. But Zane is very persuasive, and soon Aubrey finds herself playing house with the most recognized man on the planet. Deep down, she knows it’s all a fantasy. He’ll head back to his posh lifestyle soon and leave her behind. No way could she fall in love with him.
But love doesn’t always follow the rules…
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Grab your copy today, exclusively on Amazon! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3xoGhO1 Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ChangewMe
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3yozaqj
“Who are you?” My heart jumps, and my stomach jolts as I spin and see a man walk out of the master bath. He’s tall. He’s frowning. And he looks familiar. “The question is, who are you?” Why did I leave my purse—and my mace—in the kitchen? “You’re in my condo,” he retorts. “No, you’re in my condo,” I reply and cross my arms over my chest, trying to look mean. “This is two-oh-three A. Mine. If you’re going to murder-death-kill me, I’m going to ask you to take today off and do it to someone else because I’ve had a long drive, and I need to get ready for my new job. Now, see yourself out.” Is that me, sounding all calm and collected? I’m never this calm. Or collected. Seattle is clearly good for me. “I hate to burst your bubble,” the stranger replies, “but I’m not leaving. I leased this place, and I’m moving in today.” “But.” I frown. “I leased this place. And I’m moving in today.” I stomp out of the bedroom and head straight for the kitchen, opening my bag to retrieve my phone. I also set my mace on the counter, just in case. “I can show you the lease.” “Same,” he replies. “Landlord fucked up.” I blink, open my mouth, then close it again. “What’s in here?” He opens my pink box and surveys the goods. “These cake donuts are my weakness.” Before my eyes, he grabs one and takes a big bite. “So now you’re stealing my house and my food?” “I didn’t steal anything,” he says with a full mouth. “Well, except the donut.” “You’re going to have to move,” I inform him. “I already paid for the first month and the security deposit.” “I paid six months in advance,” he says, swallows, and then smiles. Suddenly, I know exactly where I’ve seen him before. This is Zane Cooper. The actor. The celebrity. He must see the recognition in my eyes because his go ice-cold. “I can’t afford to find a new place,” I inform him. “It took me a month to find this one. And it’s perfect for me. It’s less than six blocks from the school I’ll be teaching at, so I can walk every day. And it’s furnished. Plus, it’s close to the water.” “Definitely perfect,” he agrees. “Oh my God, why are you here?” I demand and prop my hands on my hips. “You’re a gazillionaire. You could literally go anywhere. Why do you want my condo?” “I’m not a gazillionaire,” he says and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m more of a trazillionaire.” “Pretty sure that’s the same thing. So, go build your own building and live in it.” “Nah.” He picks a piece of donut out of his teeth and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think I will. I’ll stay here.” I blink at him and start to feel helpless. My savings is in this place. I don’t have enough left to rent anything else. And I don’t have time. I start work in just three days. Part of me wants to cry, but I’ll be damned if I let this hoity-toity movie star see me upset. So, I do the only thing I can think of. I prop my fist on the opposite hand in a challenge of rock, paper, scissors. “What are you doing?” he asks, raising one sexy eyebrow. “The adult thing,” I reply primly. “Best out of three wins?” He blinks twice, looks from my hands to my face and back again, then shrugs one muscular shoulder and assumes the position. “Fine,” he says. “I’m going to win—wait. What’s your name?” “Aubrey,” I say and lick my lips. “Aubrey Stansfield. And you’re Wyatt Earp.” His lips twitch into a half-smile. “I only played him on TV.” I chuckle and say, “Ready?” “Go,” he says, and we thump our fists three times. I land on scissors. He fists for rock. Damn it. “Let’s go again,” Zane says. One. Two. Three. I land on paper. He chooses rock again. I grin, and his blue eyes smile back. There’s a reason Zane Cooper is the hottest sex symbol in the world. Good God, I might combust just from standing next to him. All the more reason to get him out of my house. “Last one,” I say. “Go.” One. Two. Three. I land on paper again, assuming Zane only knows how to use rock. But he forms scissors. I breathe deeply and reach for my last damn donut. “That’s mine,” he says, and I whirl on him. “This is mine,” I reply hotly. “I stood in a bloody line in Portland for it, just this morning. I drove all the way here from Arizona. I’m tired. I’m a little scared. And now I have you in my house, and you won’t leave. Even better than that, you just stole it out from under me.” “I won it,” he reminds me. “Fair and square. The donut, that is.” I stop and frown at him. “Huh?” “I won the donut. In the rock-paper-scissors game.” “I was playing for the condo, Wyatt.” He barks out a laugh. “Not me. I want that donut.”
About Kristen Proby Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years. During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before the dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.
Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published close to thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self-publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion Series.
Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their two pugs and two cats.
Connect with Kristen Amazon: https://amzn.to/30FCBgR Facebook: https://bit.ly/3oQ7iIb Twitter: https://bit.ly/3nzrD4Y Instagram: https://bit.ly/3qWnOJh Pinterest: https://bit.ly/3cwozjE Bookbub: https://bit.ly/3xfm2Ek Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3oFYnJe Newsletter: https://bit.ly/3DDahd8
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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Review – Forever Wilde in Aster Valley, Lucy Lennox
November 18, 2021 | Posted in Blog Tour, Excerpt, Review | By Two Book Pushers
Can two strangers find love among the quaint chaos of an Aster Valley Christmas? Even if it includes the two most overwhelming and meddling families vying for the title of greatest matchmakers of all time?
Forever Wilde in Aster Valley, an all-new MM romantic comedy from USA Today bestselling author Lucy Lennox is available now!
When Miller Hobbs finds himself on a winter vacation in Colorado with the giant, exceedingly loud, Marian and Wilde families, he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’s not really a Marian or a Wilde despite having DNA ties to both.
So every morning before the rest of the family wakes up and fills Rockley Lodge with holiday merriment (and noise), he escapes to the quaint downtown of Aster Valley where he spies a man through the bakery window kneading dough and dancing to music only he can hear. Miller is entranced by the dancing baker, and when Darius looks up and catches Miller staring, the interest suddenly goes both ways.
Can two strangers find love among the quaint chaos of an Aster Valley Christmas? Even if it includes the two most overwhelming and meddling families vying for the title of greatest matchmakers of all time?
Grab your copy today! FREE in Kindle Unlimited Amazon: https://amzn.to/3mAKhZU Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/foreverwilde
Forever Wilde in Aster Valley is the ninth book in the Forever Wilde series by the fabulous Lucy Lennox. But it’s a Wilde, Marian, Aster Valley crossover and it’s hilariously fantastic! I haven’t read all the Wilde or Marian books, but I have read all the Aster Valley ones and you are in for a treat whether you’ve read them or not! If you haven’t, you are going to want to read every one of their stories! Miller is a new addition to the Wilde/Marian family and he’s not used to so many people and all the noise. When he takes a break to help Mikey pick up breakfast at the local bakery he didn’t know his whole life was going to change. Darius sold his chain of bakeries and moved to Aster Valley for a quieter, happier life. He loves baking and just going to work and making people happy. No stress. As soon as he sees Miller he knows he’s going to be someone special to him. Their romance is fun, sexy and sweet. The Marians and Wildes are so freaking funny! This story wasn’t only just fun and games. There were emotions and my heart broke a little for Miller and Tilly. There was a lot going on in Miller’s life with his new family and Darius was the calm in the storm. The sexy, delicious baker who was sweet and patient. I’m already looking forward to getting back to Aster Valley. Overall, I loved Miller and Darius’s love story and catching up with old friends and family!
Excerpt
The lady who’d brought me into the shop groaned. “The baby’s name is Conley, dammit, Hannah,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t listen to his Uncle Declan. And yes, he’s teething, so he’s been up for hours. It was a good excuse to come grab what I wanted before the crowds turn up and take all the good stuff.” I had no problem believing that they’d sell out quickly, considering how tempting the pastries looked and smelled. But I was still focused on something far more tempting than sweets. While the young lady behind the counter began filling a bakery box, I moved to the side to try and catch a peek through the arched doorway into the back of the bakery. I could hear the clank of metal sheet pans, and I spotted a glimpse of the baker’s denim sleeve rolled up over his thick forearm. His thick, tattooed forearm. Oh, man. Tattoos, too? Hngh. My palms went sweaty, and I had to swallow past a lump in my throat. I was a sucker for a man with ink. I tried to tell myself firmly that this baker was none of my business. That I didn’t know a thing about this man. That I was a tourist, for heaven’s sake, and I was already dealing with a ridiculous number of new people in my life on top of all my work stress at home. But none of it seemed to I found a parking spot on a side street and walked up the shoveled sidewalk to the bakery. A large plate-glass window revealed the baker himself kneading a giant blob of dough on a well-worn wooden table in the back of the shop. Something about the sight stopped me in my tracks and caused me to watch him a little longer than I should have. A little longer than was probably polite. Maybe it was the rhythm of his movements or the fact he seemed to be talking to himself. Maybe it was the way he fit the landscape—solid as the mountains, warm as sunlight, simple and magnificent at the same time. Maybe it was the way his big hands kneaded the dough with such total competence that shivers danced up my spine. Whatever it was, I couldn’t look away. After standing still a few moments, I realized he was singing. He had headphones on and nodded his head to a silent beat. The man’s face broke into a wide, white grin as his hips began to sway, and his whole body moved with the music as he went about his work. The baker had a messy brown bun on top of his head and a short beard with dark brown eyebrows over an expressive face. I wondered idly if he had dimples I couldn’t see from this far away. His smile was breathtaking. He looked to be around my age, mid-to-late thirties, but it was hard to tell through the window. He wore a denim button-down shirt under a beige apron sprinkled with flour. The rest of him was hidden by the table. I couldn’t stop watching him. I felt like a kid outside of a candy store with sticky hands pressed to the glass and big eyes filled with want. I liked to think I was a fairly practical sort of person, a person who made the best of what he could have and didn’t spend his time yearning for things he couldn’t, but the baker had me captivated. This one, a voice in my head whispered as I watched the baker’s biceps bunch and flex under his shirt. Yes, please. “You have to try the melomakarona,” a woman said from behind me, startling me out of my weird, lusty fantasy. “I can’t believe this place hasn’t been overrun with people clamoring for it. It’s only a matter of time. Or…it would be if they’d do a little advertising or start a mail-order business for them. The only other place I know of that had Greek treats as good as these was a bakery I went to once in Chicago when I was in college. That place had people lined up around the corner this time of year, just to get the melomakarona.” I turned to face the stranger, finding it harder to look away from my baker—the baker, I silently corrected myself. The baker, who was in no way mine—than I could have imagined. The woman was bundled in a puffy purple jacket with a gray wool hat over blonde hair and had a baby strapped to her chest. She smiled at me way too brightly for this hour of the morning. “What’s melomakarona?” I asked politely. “It’s a Greek Christmas cookie made out of honey, walnuts, and orange juice. You have to try it. Come on,” she said, grabbing my elbow. “I’ll get you one.” I couldn’t help but laugh when I realized I’d left my own meddling family just to find myself being woman-handled and managed by someone else’s, but I was more than willing to go along with any scenario that got me closer to my—the—baker. “Okay, if you insist. I hope they have good coffee, too.” “Definitely. And they also do an incredible kourabiethes cookie that melts in your mouth. The only reason I let myself come here so often is because I’m nursing. Surely that earns me some extra calories to spend at the bakery, right?” She continued her friendly chatter as she led me around the corner to the front door. When we entered, I immediately felt at home. The warm space was extra cozy with an old brick fireplace in one corner and deep, comfortable-looking sofas and chairs clustered around it. Holiday music played softly from hidden speakers, and it was noticeably different from whatever up-tempo beat the baker himself had been playing in his headphones. The air was fragrant with sweet cinnamon and a dozen other spices I couldn’t name but wished I could. A young woman smiled from behind the counter. “You’re up early, Tessa. Is Hoss teething again?” The lady who’d brought me into the shop groaned. “The baby’s name is Conley, dammit, Hannah,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t listen to his Uncle Declan. And yes, he’s teething, so he’s been up for hours. It was a good excuse to come grab what I wanted before the crowds turn up and take all the good stuff.” I had no problem believing that they’d sell out quickly, considering how tempting the pastries looked and smelled. But I was still focused on something far more tempting than sweets. While the young lady behind the counter began filling a bakery box, I moved to the side to try and catch a peek through the arched doorway into the back of the bakery. I could hear the clank of metal sheet pans, and I spotted a glimpse of the baker’s denim sleeve rolled up over his thick forearm. His thick, tattooed forearm. Oh, man. Tattoos, too? Hngh. My palms went sweaty, and I had to swallow past a lump in my throat. I was a sucker for a man with ink. I tried to tell myself firmly that this baker was none of my business. That I didn’t know a thing about this man. That I was a tourist, for heaven’s sake, and I was already dealing with a ridiculous number of new people in my life on top of all my work stress at home. But none of it seemed to matter. Something about this total stranger called to me, and I was dying to get a closer glimpse of him. . Something about this total stranger called to me, and I was dying to get a closer glimpse of him.
Meet Lucy Lennox Lucy Lennox is finally putting good use to that English Lit degree earned way back in the 1900s. She stays up way too late each night reading M/M romance because she is a sucker for a good story.
Connect with Lucy Facebook: https://bit.ly/3ABkjcV Instagram: https://bit.ly/3s472GI Pinterest: https://bit.ly/2VEtw4W Website: http://www.lucylennox.com Stay up to date with Lucy by joining her mailing list: https://bit.ly/3fSX6e7
Cover Reveal & Excerpt – It’s Complicated, Kindle Alexander
November 18, 2021 | Posted in Cover Reveal, Excerpt | By Two Book Pushers
“I’m being asked if table thirty-three can incorporate thirty-four into their party.”
Julian looked over to see a crowd of men gathered around the larger high-boy table. “No, give it some time. St. Clair’s a good customer. Get some barstools from the back, and let’s see if he arrives.”
“Hey, Julian. Have we heard from thirty-four? Is he coming in tonight?” Remington, another waiter, asked from about the midway point down the bar where he loaded his tray with cocktail glasses. “One of my guests wants to know.”
“Who wants to know?” Julian looked over to Remington’s section of tables as if a large red arrow would point him out.
“The older guy at table twenty-seven.”
Julian’s gaze locked on that table. All the men looked older, sophisticated, well put together, and handsome. Damn.
“Which one?” Julian asked.
“The older one,” Remington repeated, then turned with his tray full of drinks in his hand. “Is he coming tonight?”
So, the Marlboro Man had built a fan club involving more than just the club’s waiters and bartenders. Julian’s possessive side stood on guard. “We’re holding the table for him, but he’s late.”
Julian dug into the salad with his fork, stuffing a big bite into his mouth, and reached for the untouched glass of water nearby. He chomped out his frustration that the big, tall cowboy hat wearing mystery man was building some possible hookups.
Julian had watched as Beckett sat alone for hours at his table until some of the waiters were cut from their shifts and ended up joining the guy. Beckett had become a welcome patron in the club and his table a safe place for most of the guys who worked for Reservations to gather.
No, Julian hadn’t missed all the long lingering looks Beckett tossed his way. He liked the way Beckett watched him. Those intriguing brown eyes and that appealing gaze. Beckett was all man, every single inch of him. He knew that for a fact because he’d rubbed himself against all that masculinity when they’d danced.
An unexpected sensation had Julian dropping the fork in his hand to the plate, his gaze lowering to his trouser-covered cock. Holy hell, the way it plumped painfully against his zipper had his heart thumping wildly in his chest. The damn thing did, in fact, work. How long had it been since he’d grown hard? He couldn’t remember. Tears of happiness sprung to his eyes, making him fight to swallow the lump forming in his throat. Damn, it felt good.
How much had he had to drink? Regardless of his actions over the last few days, Julian had given up alcohol. Should he have been drinking this whole time?
“Boss, you good?” Ricco tapped the edge of the bar to gain Julian’s attention.
He paid the bartender no heed, not wanting to lose this moment. Julian had only had two cocktails over the last couple of hours. That meant he was practically sober, yet his cock was working again for the first time in a long while.
Under Ricco’s intense scrutiny, Julian’s cock deflated. He closed his eyes, bringing forth images of Beckett sitting alone at his table, rarely speaking to anyone. Every single time Beckett showed up or planned to leave for the night, his gaze sought out Julian. No matter how hard Julian fought the urge to turn Beckett’s way he eventually would turn, helpless to do anything but.
Beckett would smile and touch the brim of his hat. Fuck, what a sexy move. Beckett’s strong jaw and full lips, his dark tanned skin… Julian’s dick swelled at warp speed.
Hell yeah. Julian was helpless to stop the tear that built enough steam to trickle down his cheek. This had to mean he was healing, right?
“Julian. You good?”
He opened his eyes, prepared to share with Ricco exactly why he was great right now. His hand reached to wipe away the tear when the unique scent of outdoors, sunshine, and exotic spices hit his senses. Unmistakably Beckett. He looked over to see an expansive masculine chest and broad shoulders leaning into him as Beckett busted a move to avoid a collision with one of the busboys.
Julian lifted his gaze. Of course, he held all of Beckett’s undivided attention. They locked gazes for one, maybe two long seconds, before Ricco’s hand slapped down hard on the bar top, pulling Julian’s gaze toward Ricco.
“What?” He said the word with maybe three syllables of frustration.
Ricco showed zero cares about Julian’s obvious annoyance “Are. You. Goooda?”
“Mind your business. Concentrate on the job you’re being paid to do.” Julian motioned to the line of waiters standing at the bar, waiting for their drinks. But even that only held his attention for the briefest of moments before he happily lowered his gaze again to his dick. The damn thing was rigidly hard, straining against his form-hugging pants. Holy fuck. The relief was staggering.
Julian dropped his head between his shoulder blades, thanking the universe for this blessing.
“Mr. St. Clair, we were getting worried about you,” Ricco said.
“Call me Beckett.” The rich masculine timbre held hints of a deeply cultured southern accent, drawing Julian’s gaze to Beckett once again.
“A guy at one of Remington’s tables wants to buy your drinks tonight,” Ricco said to Beckett as he started to pour again. “He asked me to see if you’re interested when you came in.”
Julian’s head dropped forward; he couldn’t help his astonished stare. He got caught up in Beckett’s new look. Julian’s gaze narrowed to Beckett, admiring how he wore the hugely popular suit with the athletic cut. Beckett looked fashionable in a style that accented every one of his masculine curves and edges. He was clean-shaven with his hair styled and pushed back off his forehead. No cowboy hat to be found anywhere.
“Which table?” Beckett asked and turned toward the grouping of tables. His body angled to look where Remington pointed to a group of three men. Julian looked down the length of Beckett’s long body. He wasn’t wearing boots tonight or a tie. Instead, his collar was unbuttoned with a small amount of fur peaking from the opening. The look suited him. Julian’s fingers twitched to run over the man’s exposed skin. He’d bet Beckett had the same dark tan all the way down that expansive chest.
Beckett was mouthwateringly gorgeous in this new look. Who would have known the man could be even more handsome than Julian remembered?
Tonight, the man held an air of confidence that he didn’t usually have. Beckett lifted a hand to the men, grinned a sultry smile, and turned back to Ricco. “Buy his next round on me and tell him thank you, I’m flattered, but I’ve got my eye on someone else tonight.”
Find out more by visiting www.kindlealexander.com or email me at kindle@kindlealexander.com
Excerpt Reveal – Well Played, Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
October 21, 2021 | Posted in Excerpt | By Two Book Pushers
OCTOBER 25th!
Excerpt Reveal – The Aristocrat, Penelope Ward
August 26, 2021 | Posted in Excerpt | By Two Book Pushers
Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling
author of contemporary romance.
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.
million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author
of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen
languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
GOOGLE PLAY / AUDIOBOOK
New Release, Review & *Giveaway* – Rules of Play, Lane Hayes
July 23, 2021 | Posted in Excerpt, Giveaway, Release Day Blitz, Review | By Two Book Pushers
Title: Rules of Play
Series: The Script Club #2
Author: Lane Hayes
Publisher: Lane Hayes
Release Date: July 16, 2021
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 53K
Genre: Romance, Brother’s Best Friend, Geek/Jock, Friends to Lovers, Bisexual-awakening, Contemporary MM Romance
Add to Goodreads
Synopsis
The genius, the mechanic, and a new playbook…
George-
My brother’s friend is hot. If you’re into flannel-wearing lumbersexual former jocks who eat donuts for dinner and still scribble to-do lists on their palms. I’m not. I’m a serious scientist in my final of grad school. Okay, I admit I have few quirks of my own. I also have a broken truck and a boss who thinks I can help him find love. I’m in over my head. Help!
Aiden-
A few quirks? Really? George the weirdest dude I know. He wears capes in public, brings a book everywhere he goes, and loves all thing spooky. He’s also the smartest person on the planet—who somehow thinks I can help him write a How-To-Get-A-Date playbook for his boss. Yeah, that sounds suspicious. I know baseball; I don’t know anything about love. But I can’t say no. I’ve always had a soft spot for George. I just didn’t count on falling for my best friend’s nerdy brother. This is against the rules, isn’t it?
Rules of Play is an MM bisexual awakening story where opposites attract and shenanigans ensue!
Excerpt
“The Script Club?”
I grimaced. “Well, yeah. That name came later.”
“You really are a little weirdo, aren’t you?”
The twinkle in Aiden’s eyes and his affectionate tone paired with an unlikely term of endearment were exactly what I needed to pull me from my infatuation-induced awkwardness.
I smacked his biceps playfully, then leaned against his side, staring up at the crescent moon in the twilight sky. “I am weird and I am proud.”
Aiden chuckled. “I like that about you. I like your idea too. It’s a good one. I should get in on that and collect a few new experiences before I quit the garage and move on to my next venture.”
“What would you do? I mean, what would you want to try?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something will come to me.” He set the half-eaten container of meatballs down and reached for his beer. “As for your boss…he needs a rule book.”
I shifted to face him. “What kind of rule book?”
“A dating rule book. It would be the equivalent of a sports playbook…a list of strategies and a backup plan if things go awry.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Step one, ask for a date.”
Aiden shook his head. “No. Don’t go in hot. Gotta practice a little finesse. It’s better to get to know someone—ask about their interests, share yours, and see if there’s anything there. Theoretically, that’s how I think it should work.”
“You’re right. They have to build a rapport.” I squinted. “He’s going to need an icebreaker.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Hit me with your best shot.”
“Uh…what do you mean?” I stammered.
“Pretend you’re into me and you want to get to know me.” Aiden quirked a brow and wiggled his fingers. “Ask me something.”
“What are your interests?”
He made an obnoxious buzzer noise and rolled his eyes. “Wrong. That’s a date question. A lame one, too. Would you really walk up to someone and ask them what they’re into?”
“No, of course not.”
“Redo. You’re trying to get to know me, but you can’t be too forward, and you can’t make assumptions. Got it?” He waited for my nod of agreement and continued. “Pretend we’re standing at the coffee machine at work on a Monday morning. And…action.”
“O-kay…what did you do last weekend?”
Aiden smiled. “Good one. And my answer…not much. I went to that college ball game I told you about last week, watched a lot of basketball, made arrangements to schlep your Bronco here, and played pool with Kenny and a couple of high school buddies. You?”
“I studied and hung out with my friends.”
He stared at me long enough for me to wonder if I had meatball between my teeth.
“If that’s all you have to say, you just killed this conversation,” he deadpanned.
I chuckled. “I did not. It was your turn to ask <em>me</em> something. That’s how it works in real life. I’m not that big of a dork!”
“But what about your boss?”
Good point. “Newton is a big dork. Very big.”
“Right, so this is where rules come into play. You have to pay attention and take hints and clues to heart. Almost everything I mentioned about my weekend had a theme…sports. I told you what I’m interested in without announcing, ‘I like sports.’ If you really wanted to get in my pants, you’d ask me a sports-related question.”
I shot to my feet, whirling my cape like a true badass. “Who said anything about getting in your pants?”
Yes, I was entirely in favor of the idea, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t said it aloud.
“Isn’t that the end game?” Aiden flashed a devilish grin my way.
“No! I mean, maybe for you, but not for Newton. I don’t think he’s hoping for sex.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Love!”
Aiden widened his eyes comically. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed in defeat, reclaiming my spot on the stoop next to him. “That’s why this is complicated.”
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Rules of Play is the second book in the Script Club series by the talented Lane Hayes. This is an bisexual awakening romance with his best friend’s brother! We met George in Following the Rules, he’s Simon’s brother. Aiden is Simon’s best friend. Aiden has known George since he they were young. He always had a thing for him, but he never really knew what it was. When he saves the day and helps him repair his car, he realizes now what it is. Attraction. To a man. But not just any man. Just to George. Aiden isn’t scared or nervous, he wants to see where the attraction goes. George had a crush on Aiden when he was a kid. He’s big, burly and sexy. But he’s straight, right? Not if that kiss is any indication. Aiden needs George’s brain and George needs Aiden’s help when his boss asks for dating advice. It’s the perfect plan. They get to spend time together getting to know each other as adults and they get to explore their attraction with sexy kisses, make out sessions and so much more. They promise to always be friends no matter what happens. This is the happiest Aiden has ever been but he’s not quite ready to come out as bi. George wants Aiden to be happy, to live his best life. Will they be able to admit their feelings and have a future together? I can’t even express how much I LOVE Aiden and George. I was invested in them from the first paragraph and they have quickly become one of my favorite couples of Lanes! Aiden is so sexy in his plaid shirts, chest hair a few extra pounds. George is the best kind of weird with his penchant for wearing a cape and having a book with him everywhere he goes. I was laughing out loud, getting hot and bothered and not wanting this story to end!
Meet the Author
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.
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Did you miss book 1 in the series? Get Following the Rules at Amazon
The geek, the jock, and a new set of rules…
Also available in Audio
Giveaway
Excerpt Reveal – The Spark, Vi Keeland
July 8, 2021 | Posted in Excerpt | By Two Book Pushers
JULY 12th!
Release Blitz, Review, Excerpt & *Giveaway* – Following the Rules, Lane Hayes
May 13, 2021 | Posted in Excerpt, Giveaway, Release Day Blitz, Review | By Two Book Pushers
Title: Following The Rules
Series: The Script Club #1
Author: Lane Hayes
Publisher: Lane Hayes
Release Date: May 7, 2021
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 50k
Genre: Romance, Nerd/Jock, MM Romance, Bisexual Awakening, Best Friend’s Brother,
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Synopsis
The geek, the jock, and a new set of rules…
Topher-
My friend’s brother needs an academic assistant and I need a job. Problem…jocks are my weakness. Seriously. I lose my ability to speak coherently around muscle-bound hotties. Oh yeah, I lose my inhibitions too—not a good look for a guy with a genius IQ. So what am I going to do about Simon?
Simon-
Finishing college isn’t high on my list of priorities, but my future in professional football is looking bleak. I need a plan B or C, and I could use some help navigating life as an undergrad. Topher is perfect. He’s also a little strange…but in a good way. And I like the way I feel when I’m around him—as though anything is possible. Maybe if we follow our hearts, we’ll find what we’re looking for. But that means changing the rules…
Following the Rules is a MM, bisexual awakening romance starring a lovable nerd, a cool jock, and some extracurricular fun.
Excerpt
I served us both a slice of each kind of pizza and slid a plate his way, gesturing for him to help himself to the cheese or whatever else he might want.
“I don’t care about money,” I said around a mouthful of food. “Eat up. This is tasty, but it won’t be as good when it’s cold.”
Topher flashed an anxious sideways smile and took a mouse-sized nibble. “Mmm, that’s delicious.”
I washed down my pizza with a healthy swig of wine, nudging his knee as I swiveled to face him. “Are you okay?”
He wiped his hands on a napkin and drained half his water, setting it on the island with a decisive thud. “Yes, I’m just a little nervous.”
“Nervous? Oh. I’m sorry.” I frowned and before I could rein my tongue, blurted, “You seemed fine when we were joking about tiny gorilla penises, and hell…you saw my dick and—”
“I wasn’t joking. I was reciting a fact and as far as your penis is concerned…”
I twisted to face him, unable to contain a mischievous grin.
“Yes? I’m waiting,” I singsonged, biting into the ham and pineapple pizza.
“I told you, Simon…I was simply doing the math,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Six and a half inches.”
“Nine.”
Topher narrowed his eyes, his features softening in amusement. “Six and three-quarters, max.”
I scoffed and hooked my thumb under the elastic waistband of my sweats. “Wanna see?”
“No! Geez. You know, it’s very difficult to stay on topic with you. And staying on topic is the only way this will work.”
“Okay, fine. Back to dick size. What animal has the biggest schlong on the planet?”
He gaped at me for a hot second. “The blue whale. It’s estimated to be seven to ten feet long.”
“Whoa!”
“Although I don’t know that it’s ever been measured during intercourse. Or if that’s even possible.” He reached for his pizza with his brow knit in concentration as though pondering whale dick…as one does.
“Whales are huge. It makes sense. What about land animals?”
“Elephants. They’ve legitimately measured specimens in excess of thirty-nine inches.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I snort-laughed. “Christ, I’m feeling very inadequate with my mere twelve inches.”
“Six,” Topher scoffed. “Look, before we get sidetracked again, I just want to—”
“I’ll pay you double.”
“What? Why?”
I sighed as I picked up my wineglass. “I don’t want to fail. No…it’s more than that. I need to look smart. I can’t come across as the fuckup wide receiver who got dumped from the NFL and blew the cushy back-door admittance to a prestigious university by failing his first semester. I thought I might be able to muddle through with a few pointers from George, but it’s going to take more than that. I need a real assistant.”
Topher widened his eyes, then blinked in disbelief when I named an exorbitant salary. I had a hard time keeping my own expression. What the hell was I thinking? Did I really need an assistant?
I didn’t know, but I needed…something.
“Oh, that’s a lot of money,” he whispered breathlessly.
“It’s the going rate for a personal assistant. Ironically, I never had one while I played ball, but I need the help now. I want the best, and George says that’s you.”
Topher smiled. “George didn’t say he was the best?”
“Actually, he did. But we can’t be in the same room for an hour without wanting to take a swing at each other.”
“You and George fight?”
“Not as much now that we’re older, but…yeah, I guess we still fight. We don’t have much in common.”
“You and I have even less in common,” he replied.
“That’s a good thing. Trust me, it’s better for me that you don’t know that I slept with a teddy bear until I was thirteen…or that I still have that damn bear for reasons unknown.” I gave a self-deprecating chuckle, then sipped my wine and set it on the island. “So…are you in? Make me smarter, Toph. I need your brain!”
He stared at me for a long moment, inclining his head. “Okay.”
“Yes!” I fist-pumped the air as if I’d just scored a touchdown and held out my hand for a high five.
Topher left me hanging for a few long seconds before gently tapping his palm to mine. I grabbed his wrist to hold him steady for a redo. The contact was light and breezy…and spontaneous. But that was how I rolled. For a guy who played professional football, it was nothing.
However, this didn’t feel like nothing.
Purchase at Amazon
Following the Rules is the first book new series, The Script Club, by Lane Hayes. It’s a brother’s friend, awakening story full of fun, sexiness, dorkiness and little angst. My favorite kind of book! It’s a feel good story about Simon, the jock and Topher, the nerd. An unlikely pair who happen to be perfect for each other. They are both at pivotal places in their life. Simon needs to finish college while he’s waiting to hear about his future in football and Topher is about to start grad school and looking for the perfect job. Simon needs help with school and Topher is a genius who needs the money. Win win. And the added extra bonus, they have crazy chemistry! I loved their fun banter and the way Simon is so laid back and never questioned his attraction for Topher. Topher cracked me up with his facts and his nervous talking. I couldn’t love these two more if I tried! Looking forward to the next one!
Meet the Author
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, and 2018-2019 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.
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Giveaway
Blog Tour & Excerpt – The Rise of Fortune and Fury, Sawyer Bennett
May 9, 2021 | Posted in Blog Tour, Excerpt | By Two Book Pushers
From New York Times Bestselling Author Sawyer Bennett comes the Chronicles of the Stone Veil, a five book urban fantasy/paranormal romance series. A departure from contemporary romance, the Chronicles of the Stone Veil is a return to fantasy/paranormal romance, where Sawyer started her fiction publishing journey. Readers can expect to find all the elements they love from Sawyer’s books—strong heroines, alpha heroes, and an epic romance—with a fantastical element to add to their reading experience. You can get the fifth, and final, book in the series, The Rise of Fortune and Fury, now!
Details for the Chronicles of the Stone Veil series are below:
You can start the series today with The Revelation of Light and Dark.
Go to Sawyer’s website for details: Click here to learn more about The Chronicles of the Stone Veil series
The Rise of Fortune and Fury is available now:
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The Rise of Fortune and Fury
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #5 | Available Now
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Book Blurb:
It’s time to meet my destiny.
Kymaris has everything she needs to bring down the veil between Earth and the Underworld. If she’s successful in completing the ritual, Earth will be darkened by evil. Demons will swarm our lands and the human race will be decimated.
It’s up to me to stop her.
My fate is to thwart the prophecy, but I’m not sure what to do. While I may have some gifts, I am still merely a human facing the queen of the Dark Fae who holds unimaginable power.
But I have something she doesn’t. Something she could never comprehend.
I have love.
Deep, abiding love which gives me the strength and courage to face down evil. Family, friends, and unexpected allies, who will stand shoulder to shoulder with me against this enemy. Should I fail, they are prepared to go down with me, but only after we have given our all.
My sacrifice may destroy everything I am. Fate may require my demise. But if that happens, I will leave this realm without regret, knowing that I have loved and been loved in return.
The Rise of Fortune and Fury is book five of the Chronicles of the Stone Veil series and is best enjoyed if read in series order.
The Rise of Fortune and Fury is available now:
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AVAILABLE NOW
The Revelation of Light and Dark
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #1 | Available Now
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A Discovery of Secrets and Fate
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #2 | Available Now
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The Evolution of Fae and Gods
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #3 | Available Now
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A Battle of Blood and Stone
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #4 | Available Now
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The Rise of Fortune and Fury
Chronicles of the Stone Veil, book #5 | Available Now
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————————-
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Sawyer Bennett uses real life experience to create relatable stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From contemporary romance, fantasy romance, and both women’s and general fiction, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.
A former trial lawyer from North Carolina, when she is not bringing fiction to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to her very adorable daughter, as well as full-time servant to her wonderfully naughty dogs.
If you’d like to receive a notification when Sawyer releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter (sawyerbennett.com/signup).
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Cover Reveal, Excerpt & *Giveaway* – Reel, Kennedy Ryan
May 5, 2021 | Posted in Cover Reveal, Excerpt, Giveaway | By Two Book Pushers
Reel, Kennedy Ryan’s new breathtaking standalone romance set in the glamorous world of film and theater, is coming June 8th, and we have the beautiful cover and your first look!
Award-Winning Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Kennedy Ryan launches a brand new series with a Hollywood tale of wild ambition, artistic obsession, and unrelenting love.
One moment in the spotlight.
For months I stood by, an understudy waiting in the wings, preparing for my time to shine. I never imagined he would watch in the audience that night. Canon Holt. Famous film director. Fascinating. Talented. Fine. Before I could catch my breath, everything changed. I went from backstage Broadway to center stage Hollywood. From being unknown, to my name, Neevah Saint, on everyone’s lips. Canon casts me in a star-studded Harlem Renaissance biopic, catapulting me into another stratosphere.
But stars shine brightest in the dead of night. Forbidden attraction, scandal and circumstances beyond my control jeopardize my dream. Could this one shot—the role of a lifetime, the love of a lifetime—cost me everything?
Reserve your copy today! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3xwekW8 Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/Reel Apple Books: https://apple.co/3dWwUyG Kobo: https://bit.ly/2QCKcHS Nook: https://bit.ly/3nsKKfr Google Play: https://bit.ly/3gHMDUc Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2RpXgAe Barnes and Noble Paperback: https://bit.ly/3nsKKfr
➜ Enter the Goodreads Giveaway! Kennedy is giving away 10 Signed Reel Paperbacks! http://bit.ly/REELGoodreadsGive
➜ Follow Hollywood Renaissance series on Instagram: @TheHollywoodRenaissanceSeries
Keep reading for the very first excerpt from Reel!
When the show reaches its climax, at the very end, the song pries the final note from my diaphragm, pulls it from my throat and suspends it—leaves it throbbing in the air. The theater goes quiet for the space of a breath held by 800 people and then explodes. Applause. The relief is knee-weakening. I literally have to grab John, the lead actor’s arm for support. He doesn’t miss a beat, pulling me into his side and squeezing. “Bravo,” he whispers, a broad, genuine smile spread across his face. The last song made me cry, and my face, still wet from those tears, splits into a wide, disbelieving grin. I did it. I survived my first Broadway performance. The lights drop and we rush backstage, a cacophony of laughter and chatter filling the hidden passageways. When the curtain call begins, the cast return to the stage in small waves, the applause building as the principals take their bows. And then it’s my turn. On legs still shaky, I leave the safety of the wings, the long skirt of my costume belling out around me. I take center stage. The applause crescendos, approval vibrating through my bones and jolting my soul. Someone thrusts flowers into my arms and the sweet smell wafts around me. Every sense, every molecule of my being strains, opens, stretches to absorb this small slice of triumph. I can’t breathe deeply enough. The air comes in shallow sips, and I’m dizzy. The world spins like a top, a kaleidoscope of colors and light and sound that threatens to overwhelm me. The whirl of it makes me giddy, and I laugh. Eyes welling with tears, I laugh. These are the moments a lifetime in the making. We toil in the shadows of our dreams. In the alleys of preparation and hard work where it’s dark and nothing’s promised. For years, we cling by a thread of hope and imagination, dedicating our lives to a pursuit with no guarantees. But tonight, if only for tonight, it’s all worth it. I’m still floating when Takira bursts into the dressing room. “Neevah!” she screams, throwing her arms around me and rocking me back and forth. “You did it. You chewed that performance up and spat it out. You hear me?” I laugh and return her squeeze, new tears trailing down my cheeks. “Thank you.” I pull back to peer into my friend’s face. “I can’t believe it.” “Well, believe it. You served notice.” She snaps her fingers and grins. “Neevah Saint is here.” “Now to do it seven more times.” I laugh and start taking pins from the wig, which is as hot as a herd of sheep on my head. “Oh, you got it, unless Elise hears how amazing you were and cuts her vacation short.” “Not happening. She was ready for a break, but she’d never missed a show.” I strip off the costume and stand in only panties, unselfconscious. Modesty is one of the first things to go in this business. I’ve undressed hurriedly in a roomful of actors and dancers in smaller shows where there was a dressing room, so we get real communal real fast. I tug on skinny jeans with a tight-fitting orange sweater, and layer it with a brown leather jacket, scarf, boots. I wipe away the heavy stage makeup. It feels like my skin can breathe for the first time in hours. I assume there will be some fans at the stage door, even if it’s just a few. They’ll have to get the real Neevah because I don’t want anything more than a slick of lip gloss and a bit of mascara. A brown, orange and green plaid newsboy cap covering the neat cornrows I wore under my wig is all I’m doing for hair. Slim oversized gold hoops in my ears finish the look. “Ready?” I ask Takira, hefting a slouchy bag on my shoulder. “Let’s do this. Hopefully your adoring fans won’t take all night, ’cause your girl is starving.” We’re still laughing, and I’m so preoccupied with my empty stomach, I’m completely unprepared for the crowd at the stage door. Are they here for John? For some principal player because surely they’re not all here for the understudy. “Neevah!” a young girl, maybe ten or eleven, calls. “Can you sign this?” She thrusts a pen and a Splendor playbill toward me. She glows, her smooth brown cheeks rounded with a wide grin. Her eyes shine with . . . pride? “Oh, sure,” I mumble dazedly, taking the pen and signing my name. She’s the first in a long line of girls, all shapes and colors and ages, saying what it meant to see me onstage. Mothers whispering how impactful it was for their Black and brown daughters to be in the audience tonight. The impact is on me; what could feel like a weight or burden or responsibility feels like a warm embrace. Feels like strong arms encircling me. Supporting me. The first time I saw someone who looked like me onstage, it planted a seed inside of me. It whispered a dream. That could be you. It makes me emotional to think I might have done that for any of these girls tonight, and I spend the next twenty minutes scribbling my name on playbills through a film of tears. “Neevah!” a deep male voice calls from the back of the now-thinning crowd. I squint at the tall man, frowning until I place him. “Wright!” I take a few steps and he meets me halfway, giving me a tight hug. “Oh, my God. You were here tonight?” “Was I here?” When he pulls back, a warm smile creases his handsome face. “You blew it out of the water. I knew you were good, but damn.” Laughter spills out of me and I don’t think this night could get more perfect. I randomly met Wright Bellamy a few weeks back at a gig when he subbed for the pianist, giving the audience more than they bargained for with such a famous musician tickling the ivories that night. “Thank you.” I step away and shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, huddling in the leather jacket against the chill of an October night. “I was nervous as hell.” “Didn’t show. Your voice is spectacular. I knew that from the gig we did, but I had no idea you were that good. Wow. Glad I saw your post on Instagram or I would’ve missed it.” I’m stone-still, shocked that he came tonight specifically to see me perform. “I’m so glad you made it. You’re still in LA, right?” “Yeah, but I’m here for some stuff. Heading back home in a few days.” Takira walks up, linking her arm through mine. “Girl, if we don’t get some food,” she whispers. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I turn back to Wright. “Takira, this is Wright Bellamy. Wright, my friend Takira.” “Nice to meet you,” Takira says. “You got any food on you? I’m about to eat your hat.” As usual, Takira never meets a stranger and has us laughing right away. “We’re actually headed to Glass House Tavern,” I tell Wright. “Come if you want. It’s a group of us from the show. Just some of the cast celebrating, but you’re welcome. We can catch up.” A small frown dents between his thick brows and he glances over his shoulder. “I mean, no pressure obviously,” I rush to assure him. This is one of the biggest names in music, and here I go, inviting him to dinner with a group of strangers. “No, it sounds cool,” he says, looking back to us. “Lemme check with my boy. Can he come?” I glance over his shoulder and spot a tall man turned away from us, his broad shoulders and back straining a wool blazer, a hoodie pulled up to cover his head and face in the cold. His hands burrow into the pockets of his blazer and he’s nodding like he’s talking to himself. “He’s on the phone,” Wright explains. “But lemme see if he wants to roll.” He steps away toward the man and Takira immediately squeezes my hand and squeals. “Neeve.” Her eyes are wide and bright. Mouth dropped open. “That’s Wright Bellamy.” “I know. He’s cool as a fan.” “You know him? How—” “We’re in,” Wright says, stepping back up beside us. “He’s finishing a call, but we’re ready. Lead the way.” It’s just a few blocks, and the three of us chat about the show and what Wright’s been doing in New York. All the while his friend’s deep voice rumbles a few paces behind. I don’t want to be rude or nosy and look back, but the rich timbre, his towering height, his face obscured by the hoodie—I’m intrigued. He hangs back on the sidewalk, still on his call, when we enter the restaurant. Our friends already have a table and a shout goes up, congratulating me on popping my White Way cherry. My three understudy buddies came. John’s here, too, and one other principal. A few from the stage crew. Our little troupe has become a family and, as if eight shows a week isn’t enough time together, we gather and eat every chance we get. “You’re not paying tonight,” John says, holding out the seat beside him. “And drinks are on me.” “Awwww.” I plop into the chair and drop my bag to the floor. “You’re so sweet. You don’t have to do that.” “You were fantastic,” John says, baby blue eyes sincere and smiling. “Let’s do it again tomorrow.” Takira is already sitting beside me, so Wright takes the seat next to her. “Hey,” he says to Janie across the table. “Could you hold that seat beside you for my friend? He’s wrapping up a call, but’ll be in soon.” “Sure.” Janie blushes. “I love your work, by the way. The score of Silent Midnight . . . gah.” “Thank you. That was a special project. Lots of fun,” Wright replies with a smile. “Now tell me about the show.” Wright’s a genius, but he’s so unassuming and modest. A man as famous as he is could easily make this conversation about him, let everyone at this table give his ego a real nice hand job, but he doesn’t. He talks about our show, compliments the performance, asks John about his process. I liked him when we did that last-minute gig, and we’ve interacted some on social media since. My impression of him holds up. He’s a good guy. Not to state the obvious, but also fine. Like fine fine. He has this Boris Kodjoe vibe. Real smooth. Kind of golden–brown. Clean-cut, close-cut. I can objectively recognize his appeal, even though he’s not my type. Not that I have a type lately. I’m so deep in this dick drought I’m past the point of thirst. At first I thought it was merely the grind. Auditioning constantly, taking craft classes, doing commercials and voiceover work to not just keep bills paid, but to save. This business is feast or famine. I’m eating now, but I’ve been hungry before. Not again. I’m thirty. Too old to still be living gig to gig and buying into that starving artist thing. I need health insurance and regularly scheduled meals, thank you very much. So yeah, the grind could account for my semi-disinterested libido, but I suspect it’s more. Maybe I’m disinterested. I need a man who doesn’t think that because he has a dick and I don’t that I should defer to him—shrink my dreams down to a more manageable size. I’m cautious not only about who I share my heart and body with, but I’m also protective of my dreams; of my ambition. I won’t endanger my future for a man who can fuck. Though . . . a man who can fuck? I wouldn’t turn it down, but it will take more than that to pique my interest. “What are you getting?” Takira asks, leaning over to read my menu instead of hers. “Anything here meet your high standards?” My standards aren’t that high. I’ve just cut out red meat and stopped drinking as much alcohol. My health demands it. “I’m thinking about the salmon, but I—” A chair scraping across the floor catches my attention. Wright’s friend has finally come inside to join us. The table shrinks immediately when he settles his imposing frame into the seat beside Janie. He peels the hood away from his head and I bite off a gasp. It’s Canon Holt. Like the Canon Holt. The director I, and probably every actress at this table and in this dining room, would sacrifice a pinky toe to work with. Canon Holt is at my table sitting across from me. Takira’s expression doesn’t register this massive earthquake of a revelation, but she kicks me under the table and hisses from the corner of her mouth. “Did you know?” I pretend I need to reach for something on the floor so I can whisper back, “Do you think I would have kept my shit together this long if I knew?” “True. True.” Takira casually glances up from her menu and smiles in Canon’s general direction, but he’s not looking at her. He’s studying his screen. He’s apparently in an exclusive relationship with his phone, and no one at this table tempts him to stray. Which means I can look at him. Good. God. He’s not that handsome, but that’s irrelevant. Some might even call his features, examined on their own, unremarkable. They’d be wrong. It’s a Maker’s sleight of hand. Now God knew this man did not need lashes that long and thick, a paradox against the hard, high slant of his cheekbones. Canon hasn’t looked twice at anyone here as far as I can tell, but I’ve stolen enough glances to know there’s a fathomlessness to his dark eyes that is arresting. His unsmiling mouth is wide, the lips full in the blunt elegance of his face. A five o’clock shadow licks the ridge of his jawline. There is a geometry to him—angles, lines, edges—that disregards the individual parts and illuminates the compelling sum.WANT MORE REEL? Click here for the rest >> www.thehollywoodrenaissanceseries.com/excerptAdd Reel to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3upMOqY
Cover Designer: Lori Jackson Design Photographer: Sophia Barrett Studios Models: Jasmine Raiford and Ajayi Bodden
About Kennedy Ryan
A USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Kennedy Ryan and her writings have been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today, Entertainment Weekly, Glamour, Cosmo, TIME, O Mag and many others. A RITA® Award winner, Kennedy writes empowered women from all walks of life and centers those who have found themselves perennially on the margins of traditional storytelling.
Her Hoops Series (Long Shot, Block Shot and Hook Shot) and All the King’s Men Series (The Kingmaker, The Rebel King and Queen Move) have been optioned for television.
An autism mom, Kennedy co-founded LIFT 4 Autism, an annual charitable initiative, and has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for autism families. She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son.
Connect with Kennedy
Text KennedyRyan to 797979 for release alerts! Subscribe to Mailing List: subscribepage.com/kennedyryan Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2GY6eyb Instagram: http://bit.ly/2TaYiAi Facebook: http://bit.ly/2GUq0uF Amazon: http://amzn.to/2Fvhqiz Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2NE0cU0 BookBub: bookbub.com/authors/kennedy-ryan Website: http://kennedyryanwrites.com