Cover Reveal: The Good Luck Charm, by Helena Hunting – PreOrder it Today!

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“If my Pucked Series had an affair with The Clipped Wings series their love child would be The Good Luck Charm.”

The Good Luck Charm, by New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming August 7th

Preorder your copy today! 

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About The Good Luck Charm

Front Cover, The Good Luck Charm by Helena HuntingIs it love, or is she just his good luck charm? New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting absolutely delights with this witty and fun standalone romantic comedy.

Lilah isn’t sure what hurt worse: the day Ethan left her to focus on his hockey career, or the day he came back eight years later. He might think they can pick up just where they left off, but she’s no longer that same girl and never wants to be again.

Ethan Kase wants his glory days back. And that includes having Lilah by his side. With her, he was magic. They were magic. All he has to do is make her see that.

Just when Lilah might finally be ready to let him in, though, she finds out their reunion has nothing to do with her and everything to do with his game. But Ethan’s already lost her once, and even if it costs him his career, he’ll do anything to keep from losing her again.

 

Man Card – a New RomCom by Sarina Bowen and Tanya Eby

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Pre-Order Man Card Today . . .

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About Man Card

Nothing ventured, nothing banged…

Front Cover of Man Card by Sarina Bowen

Ash

I still don’t know how it happened. One minute I was arguing with my arrogant competitor–our usual trash-talk over who deserves the larger commission. But somehow I went from throwing down to kneeling down…
It can never happen again. I don’t even like Braht. He’s too slick. He’s a manipulating mansplaining party boy in preppy clothes.
So why can’t I get him out of my head?

Braht

There are two things I know without question. One: Ash and I are destined for each other. Two: never trust a man with a unibrow.
Ash is my missing my piece. She’s the sweet cream to my gourmet espresso. And nothing gets me going faster than her contempt for me. They don’t call her the Ashkicker for nothing.
Eventually I’ll win her over…if my past doesn’t ruin everything first.

About the Authors

Sarina Bowen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and New Adult fiction from the wilds of New England. Sarina enjoys skiing, coffee products and a nice glass of wine. She lives with her family, six chickens and more ski gear and hockey equipment than seems necessary.

Her Ivy Years and Brooklyn Bruisers books are hockey romance novels. These two connected series began breaking hearts in 2014 with The Year We Fell Down. Her book HIM co-written with Elle Kennedy won the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award.

Tanya Eby is the author of “Foodies Rush In”, “Easy Does It”, “Blunder Woman”, “Pepper Wellington and the Case of the Missing Sausage”, “Tunnel Vision and Other Stories from the Edge”, “Synchronicity”, and “In The Garden Room”; as well as the editor and publisher of “Nevertheless We Persisted”. Her new romantic comedy series is written with Sarina Bowen: MAN HANDS and MAN CARD.

Tanya was born in Lansing, Michigan, moved to Traverse City, went to high school in Coopersville and spent time living in Detroit, Miami and eventually New York City. Michigan is now her home (and setting for all of her novels) and where she lives with her two children. Her work, though genre-crossing, has the same elements of quirky characters in strange situations. At times comedic, at times heartfelt, and even at times downright creepy, Tanya Eby seeks to write stories that are engaging and resonate with the reader.

Pulled Under (Walker Security Series) – A Sexy and Suspenseful New Release by Lisa Renee Jones

Front cover of Pulled Under by Lisa Renee Jones

About Pulled Under

A new sexy standalone from Lisa Renee Jones…

He is blond, tattooed, and dangerous. She’s as beautiful as she is mysterious and could be his destruction…

Asher wasn’t always a member of the elite Walker Security team, he was a billionaire’s son, who rebelled against his father’s controlling hand, and ended up in New York City’s underground of drugs, rock n roll, and danger. But that is long behind him, and while his tattoos and long blond hair remain, he’s now a chameleon, far more comfortable in a suit and tie than a leather jacket.

Or so he likes to tell himself.

But now Walker Security needs him back inside the underground club scene for a police case they’re working. Women are dying, murdered, and the clock is ticking until another victim is claimed. When Asher is pulled back into this toxic world he meets Sierra, who is as beautiful as she is mysterious. A woman who calls to a darker side of him, long suppressed, unleashing it in what becomes wicked hot passion and obsession. But Sierra has a secret, one that leads her, and Asher, to a dangerous place, and game, with dangerous players, and the game is about life or death.

 teaser quote and photo from Pulled Under by Lisa Renee Jones

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A quote and photo promo for Pulled Under, by Lisa Renee Jones

An Excerpt from Pulled Under . . .

“You want more now, and yet you don’t want it enough to make it end. And I already don’t want it to end, Sierra.” She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder, emotion that isn’t pleasure radiating off of her and crashing into me. I cup her face and tilt her chin up, my thumb stroking her cheek. “What are you thinking?” “Nothing. Everything. Can you kiss me again already?” “Where, Sierra?”
“Where?”
“Where do you want me to kiss you? Tell me.”
“Everywhere.” She pushes to her toes, and her lips find mine, looking for an escape, trying to drive her demons away.
I want to demand her answer, make her tell me where she wants my mouth, but I feel her desperation, her need to escape whatever is in her head. And so, I press my lips to hers, I kiss her mouth, drinking her in, and I don’t taste him this time. I taste her. I taste us. I taste need and hunger and passion. “I want you naked,” I say, my hands sliding inside her jeans and panties. “In every possible way, Sierra.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m already there, and it’s terrifying.” She flattens her hand on my chest. “If you turn into an asshole, I swear—”
“You can punish me,” I promise, “and I’m still willing to offer suggestions.”
“If you turn into an asshole after I trusted you,” she says. “I won’t need suggestions, Mr. Ex-Navy SEAL who won’t be able to hide from my wrath.”
Fuck, I’m crazy about this woman. “Good thing I’m not going to turn into an asshole. I want you naked,” I repeat, and this time, I make it happen. I lower myself to one knee and take her jeans and panties with me. My arm wraps her waist and I lift her, dragging her clothing away, and setting her back down. My hands settle on her hips then and I look up at her. She stares down at me, the simmering look in her eyes all about arousal, submission. And I want that from her and not because it’s some sex game, of which I could play and play well.
I press my lips to her belly and just that easily she trembles, and it only makes me want more. Everything is more with her.  I drag my mouth lower and lower…

Photo Teaser from Pulled Under

Read my review of Pulled Under here!

More from the Walker Security Series. . .

Check out books one and three in the WALKER SECURITY series: Deep Under, book one, is available now and Falling Under, book three, is available for pre-order! All three books in the series are standalones.

MORE DETAILS HERE: http://lisareneejones.com/walker

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Hooking Up, by Helena Hunting – A Perfect Weekend Read

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✮ ✮ ✮ HOOKING UP IS NOW LIVE!✮ ✮ ✮

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Synopsis

Amalie Whitfield is the picture of a blushing bride during her wedding reception–but for all the wrong reasons. Instead of proclaiming his undying love, her husband can be heard, by Amalie and their guests, getting off with someone else. She has every reason to freak out, and in a moment of insanity, she throws herself at the first hot-blooded male she sees. But he’s not interested in becoming her revenge screw.

Mortified and desperate to escape the post-wedding drama, Amalie decides to go on her honeymoon alone, only to find the man who rejected her also heading to the same tiny island for work. But this time he isn’t holding back. She should know better than to sleep with someone she knows, but she can’t seem to resist him.

They might agree that what happens on the island should stay on the island, but neither one can deny that their attraction is more than just physical.

Filled with hilariously scandalous situations and enough sexual chemistry to power an airplane from New York City to the South Pacific, Hooking Up is the next standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from Helena Hunting, the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series and Shacking Up.

My Review of Hooking Up

Hooking Up by Helena Hunting

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Front cover, Hooking Up, by Helena HuntingHooking Up is the very definition of a guilty pleasure. It’s the best kind of dirty fun you can have with your clothes on. The erotic scenes between Amalie and her mystery man will electrify your e-reader; I swear my iPad Kindle app started sizzling from the moment Amalie and Mr. X connected in the proverbial biblical sense.

This standalone sequel to Shacking Up continues the story of Amalie and Armstrong – a match truly made in hell – with an outrageous beginning that turns Amalie’s comfortable world upside down. If you hated Armstrong in Shacking Up, you will wish for his untimely demise by the time Hooking Up is over.

The scenes that follow the “unfortunate event” at their wedding are over-the-top, completely crazy, and utterly hilarious. But the rest of Hooking Up offers more than you might expect. The back story of each character, the soulmate-worthy connection that builds between Amalie and her “Hottie Hookup” is deeply erotic, but also deeply emotional. Helena strikes just the right balance between comedy and drama as the story continues, and for that reason, I think it surpasses Shacking Up as a new favorite – a book I’ll definitely re-read.

There is a lot of sex and a lot of dirty-talk between the beginning and the end – so if that makes you uncomfortable, this may not be the book for you. But for me, it made perfect sense and didn’t detract from the story. The erotic scenes are truly some of the best I’ve ever read, not only from Helena Hunting, but from other contemporary romance authors as well. They bring the heat – but they also bring deep passion, longing, belonging, and empowerment that leads to a satisfying sense of intimacy – the very thing that both primary characters are missing in their lives. I got so attached, so quickly, I read Hooking Up in one sitting.

If you want a perfect read for a chilly fall weekend, with a balance of outrageous humor and angst, with two unforgettable characters, grab your favorite beverage and indulge in this dirty, sexy treat today.

View all my reviews

Check Out Shacking Up!

For a synopsis and my review, Click here!

Shacking Up, a Sensational New Romance by Bestselling Author Helena Hunting

Misadventures of the First Daughter – NEW from Meredith Wild & Mia Michelle!

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MISADVENTURES OF THE FIRST DAUGHTER

by

Mia Michelle & Meredith Wild

Release Date: 30th October

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Front cover, Misadventures of the First Daughter

SYNOPSIS

Charlotte Daley is the daughter of the newly elected POTUS. An only child, she’s both spoiled rotten and entirely neglected by her powerful family. She’s been forced to eat with the right forks, smile at all the right times, and be the picture of perfection for months. Now that her father is in office and too busy to know she exists, she’s determined to exercise her new freedom before she heads back to college in New York.

Ex-SEAL Zane Parker has one job to protect the President’s daughter, all day, every day. But she’s been on a partying spree since the inauguration, heading down a dangerous path that threatens to ruin her reputation and cause a major scandal for her father. Zane will lose his job if he can’t get her under control. Except he wants to sleep with her as badly as he wants to set her straight. She needs discipline. And he might be just the one to give it to her.

When unexpected circumstances tie Charlotte to D.C. for the foreseeable future, Zane makes her an offer that’s anything but honorable. He’ll give the first daughter all the thrills she’s seeking in exchange for one thing… Her obedience. Fascinated by Zane’s dark promises, Charlotte agrees. Submission has never felt so good. But as Zane brings her deeper into his forbidden desires, enemies surface and danger lurks.

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Meet the Authors

 

Meredith Wild is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling author of romance. Living on Florida’s Gulf Coast with her husband and three children, she refers to herself as a techie, whiskey-appreciator, and hopeless romantic. She has been featured on CBS This Morning, The Today Show, the New York TimesThe Hollywood ReporterPublishers Weekly, and The Examiner. When she isn’t living in the fantasy world of her characters, she can usually be found here:

Facebookhttps://www.facebook.com/meredithwild

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Mia Michelle fell in love with the world of books the very first time she stepped inside of her small hometown library. Growing up, she loved to spend time losing herself in the world of make believe by creating her own imaginative stories. The gift of a leather journal for her eighth birthday inspired her dream of one day becoming a writer. Though she kept most of her writing private over the years, a childhood best friend read the first draft of Rose of Thorne and encouraged her to take the leap of faith to bring her dream to life.

Mia fully admits to having a hopeless infatuation with her Kindle, and suffers from a one-click book addiction. (No intervention required). When she isn’t shuttling her two kids between cheerleading and football practice, or folding a massive pile of laundry, she can be found curled up in her favorite cozy chair with a pen in one hand and an adult beverage in the other.

Mia currently resides in a quaint little southern town in Tennessee with her husband, two children, and a fur baby.

http://miamichelleauthor.com/

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Dirty Rich One Night Stand — A HOT New Standalone from Lisa Renee Jones!

Lisa Renee Jones is back with a sexy, stunning STANDALONE:

DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND!

GENRE: Contemporary Steamy Romance

RELEASE DATE: October 18, 2017

 

DIRTY, RICH ONE NIGHT STAND.

That’s all it was supposed to be. Her. Him. Pleasure. And then a fast goodbye. He’s a stranger. And yet, he’s not. She knows him even though he doesn’t know her.

He’s the powerful attorney, now world-renowned after coming off the trial of a century which was publicized across the country. And I’m one of the reporters that sat in his courtroom.

I watched him, studied him, got to know him from afar which isn’t hard since I know his exact brand of confidence, arrogance, and wealth.

I know his type. I’ve dated his type. Which is why when I happen to come face to face with him, when sparks fly and heat simmers between us, I know what happens if I say “yes” to Reese Summer.

I know he’ll taste like sin and sex, even before he kisses me.

I know he’ll feel like pleasure and passion, even before he touches me.

I know he’ll demand more than I wants to give, and yet, because I dare to give myself to him, the result will be deliciously hot.

I know that I will not leave his bed without being utterly, completely sated.

And I know that I will leave the next morning anyway.

And so, I do.

And so, he follows.

And as chase begins my question becomes: Is Reese Summer THE one or is he really just a dirty, arrogant lie that should have stayed a one night stand?

teaser for Dirty Rich One Night Stand

 BUY LINKS

Special Release Day Price — 99 cents — will go up to $4.99 shortly after release!

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EXCERPT

“You’re as perfect as I knew you would be,” he says, his voice managing to be both sandpaper and silk on my nerve endings, as he adds, “and almost as naked as I want you to be.”

The idea that he has wanted me as much as I have wanted him does funny things to my stomach, but more so, delivers an unexpected wave of illogical vulnerability. This is sex. The end. I don’t want or need to feel anything more. I want and need him naked and fucking me now, fast, hard. That’s safe. Desperate to find that safe place, to shift the control from him to me, I push to my toes, my breasts molding to his chest, and press my lips to his lips. They are warm, and he is hard everywhere I am soft.

And his response to my kiss, the answering moan I am rewarded with, is white-hot fire in my blood that he ignites further with a deep, sizzling stroke of his tongue. He slants his mouth over mine, deepening the connection, kissing me with a fierceness no other man ever has, but then some part of me has known from moment one that he is like no man I have ever known. Which explains why he is everything I want. And nothing about this night is what I expected, any more than this man is anything I can control.

But there is something intensely arousing about the idea of trying.

As if claiming I am reaching for the impossible, he molds me closer, his hand between my shoulder blades, his tongue playing wickedly with mine, but I meet him stroke for stroke, arching into him. He cups my ass and pulls me solidly against his erection. He wins this one. Now I am the one moaning, arching into him, and I welcome the intimate connection. I burn for the moment he will be inside me.

But I also want him to burn for this just as much as I do, and I need to touch this man. Really, really, need to touch him. My hand presses between us, and I stroke the hard line of his shaft. Reese tears his mouth from mine, pressing me hard against the pillar supporting the window again, and when his hands leave my body, when his palms press to the concrete above me again, I sense his withdrawal is about control. I was winning. I confirm that as reality when our eyes lock, and the dash of fire in his eyes is lit by one part passion and one part challenge.

“If I slide my fingers between your legs right now,” he says, “are you wet for me? Are you ready for me?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I dare him, testing him, pushing him.

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series.

In addition to the success of Lisa’s INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is also the author of the bestselling the bestselling DIRTY MONEY and WHITE LIES series. And will be publishing the first book in her Lilah Love suspense series with Amazon Publishing in March 2018.

Prior to publishing, Lisa owned a multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at www.lisareneejones.com and she is active on Twitter and Facebook daily.

SOCIAL LINKS

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLisaReneeJones

Website – http://lisareneejones.com/

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Twitter – https://twitter.com/LisaReneeJones

Instagram – http://instagram.com/lisareneejones

Goodreads  https://www.goodreads.com/LisaReneeJones

 

 

Sneak Peek: Hooking Up, by Helena Hunting – Chapter One

Front cover of Hooking Up by Helena Hunting

About Hooking Up…

Amalie Whitfield is the picture of a blushing bride during her wedding reception–but for all the wrong reasons. Instead of proclaiming his undying love, her husband can be heard, by Amalie and their guests, getting off with someone else. She has every reason to freak out, and in a moment of insanity, she throws herself at the first hot-blooded male she sees. But he’s not interested in becoming her revenge screw.

Mortified and desperate to escape the post-wedding drama, Amalie decides to go on her honeymoon alone, only to find the man who rejected her also heading to the same tiny island for work. But this time he isn’t holding back. She should know better than to sleep with someone she knows, but she can’t seem to resist him.

They might agree that what happens on the island should stay on the island, but neither one can deny that their attraction is more than just physical.

Filled with hilariously scandalous situations and enough sexual chemistry to power an airplane from New York City to the South Pacific, Hooking Up is the next standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from Helena Hunting, the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series and Shacking Up.

Add Hooking Up to Goodreads

Chapter One of Hooking Up

Wedding Unbliss

Amie

This is the happiest day of my life. I allow that thought to roll around in my head, trying to figure out why it doesn’t seem to resonate the way it should. This should be the happiest day of my life. So I’m not exactly certain why the uneasy feeling I associate with cold feet is getting worse rather than dissipating. I’ve already done the hard part; walked down the aisle and said “I do.”

My husband excused himself to go to the bathroom several minutes ago and, based on Armstrong’s itinerary for the day, speeches are supposed to begin promptly at eight-thirty. According to my phone, that’s less than two minutes from now, and he’s not here. The emcee for the evening is awaiting Armstrong’s return before he begins. And then the real party can start. The one where we get to celebrate our commitment to each other as partners for life. As in the rest of my breathing days. Dear God, why does that make my stomach twist?

I sip my white wine. Armstrong pointed out that red is not a good idea with my dress, even though it’s my preference. Besides, I don’t want it to stain my teeth. That would make for bad pictures.

I glance around the hall and see my parents, who are probably celebrating the fact that I didn’t walk down the aisle with a convicted felon. And frankly, so am I. My dating history pre-Armstrong wasn’t fabulous.

The sheer number of people in attendance spikes my anxiety. Speaking in front of all of these people makes me want to drink more, which is a bad idea. Tipsy speeches could lead to saying the wrong thing. I check my phone under the table again. It’s after eight-thirty. The longer Armstrong takes to return, the further behind we’ll get. The music playlist, devised by Armstrong with painstaking efficiency, leaves no room for tardiness. If we don’t start on time I’ll have to take out a song, or possibly two, to compensate for his delay and he’s selected the order in such a way as to make that difficult and that will annoy him. I just want today to be perfect. I want it to be reflective of my decision to marry Armstrong. That I, Amalie Whitfield, can make good choices and am not a disgrace to my family.

“Where the hell is he?” I scan the room and take another small sip of my wine. I should switch to water soon so I don’t end up drunk, especially later, when all of this is over and we can celebrate our lifelong commitment to each other without clothes on. I’m hopeful it will last more than five minutes.

Ruby, my maid of honor and best friend for the past decade, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like Bancroft to find Armstrong?”

Bancroft, or Bane for short, is Ruby’s boyfriend who she’s been living with for several months. Recently I find myself getting a little jealous of how affectionate they still are with each other, even after all this time. Cohabitation hasn’t slowed them down on the sex or their PDA. I have hope that Armstrong and I will be more like Bane and Ruby now that we’ll be sharing the same bed every night.

I’m about to tell Ruby to give him another minute when a low buzz suddenly fills the hall. It sounds like a school PA system. I start to panic—they can’t start the speeches without Armstrong at my side. What’s the point of speeches if the groom isn’t present?

I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to tell the deejay, or whoever is behind the mic, he needs to wait, when a very loud moan echoes through the room. The acoustics are phenomenal in here, it’s why we chose this venue.

I glance at Ruby to make sure I’m not hearing things. Her eyes are wide. The kind of wide associated with shock. The same shock I’m feeling.

Another moan reverberates through the sound system, followed by the words, “Oh, fuuuck.”

A collective gasp ripples through the now-silent crowd. While the words themselves are scandalous among these guests, it’s the voice groaning them that makes me sit up straighter, and simultaneously consider hiding under the table.

“Fuck yeah. Ah, suck it. That’s it. Deep throat it like a good little slut. Fuuuuuccckkkkk.”

My mouth drops and I look to Ruby to ensure I have not completely lost my mind. “Is that—” I don’t finish the sentence. I already know the answer to the question, so it’s pointless to ask. Besides, I’m cut off by yet another loud groan. I clap a hand over my mouth because I’m not sure I’m able to close it, my disbelief is as vast as the ocean.

Ruby’s expression mirrors mine, except hers is incredibly animated since she’s an actress. “Oh my God. Is that Armstrong?” Her words are no more than a whisper, but they sound very much like a scream. Oh no, wait, that’s just Armstrong on the verge of an orgasm. But these sounds are nothing like the ones he makes when he’s in the throes of passion with me.

I clutch Ruby’s hand. The next sound that comes from him is a hybrid between a hyena laugh and a wolf baying at the moon. And every guest at our wedding is hearing the same thing I am. Our wedding. Someone other than me is blowing my husband at my own wedding. My mortification knows no end.

I grab the closest bottle of wine and dump the contents into my glass. Some of it sloshes over the edge and onto the crisp white tablecloth. It doesn’t matter. There’s plenty more where it came from. I chug the glass, then grab Ruby’s.

People lean in and whisper to each other, eyes lift to the speakers. A few people, the ones who are probably just here for the social-ladder-climbing potential, question who it is.

“Is the deejay watching porn?” That comment comes from a table full of mostly drunk singles in their early twenties.

Several eyes shift my way as I carelessly down Ruby’s wine and someone asks where the groom has disappeared to.

The grunts and groans grow terrifyingly louder. This is nothing like what I’m used to in bed with Armstrong. The dirty words aren’t something he ever uses with me, mostly it’s just noises and sometimes a “Right there” or “I’m close,” but that’s about it. He’s never talked to me like he is to the woman currently providing oral pleasure. And I’m very adept at oral. Although with Armstrong it’s very polite, neat oral, with no sounds other than the occasional hum. Slurping is uncivilized and a definite no-no.

I reach past Ruby for the bottle of red since I don’t really give a flying fuck about purple teeth right now. As I sink low in my seat I pour another glass of wine, surveying the people in the ballroom from behind the cover of the centerpiece. The centerpieces are huge and excessive and I don’t like them at all, but at least provides a protective barrier between the guests and my disgust, which I’m certain they must share. He sounds like a wild animal rutting. It is entirely unsexy. I have no idea who he’s getting intimate with, but I’m suddenly very glad it’s not me.

And doesn’t that tell me more about our relationship than it should.

It’s only been about thirty seconds—the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life—before Armstrong comes. How do I know this? Because he says, very clearly, “Keep sucking, baby, I’m coming.”

And “baby,” whoever she is, makes these horrific gurgling noises. It sounds like some form of alien communication. It’s way over the top, and apparently Armstrong is loving it, based on the string of vile profanity that spews from his asshole mouth.

“Holy crap. Is this for real? That was really fast,” Ruby mutters.

I guzzle my glass of wine. Then decide the glass is unnecessary and take a long swig from the bottle before Ruby snatches it away. Wine dribbles down my chin and onto my chest, staining the white satin purple. My dress is ruined. I should be freaking out. But I really don’t care.

“Come on,” Ruby tugs on my hand. “We need to get you out of here while people are still distracted.”

My older brother Pierce and the emcee are standing in the middle of the hall, gesturing wildly to the speakers above us. My other brother, Lawson, is on his way toward the podium in an attempt to do something. I don’t think there’s anything he can do to stop this train wreck from there.

Ruby tugs again, but I’m frozen, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened. Well, I know what’s happened. I just can’t believe it.

The sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes follows. “Thanks for that, now I’ll be able to last later tonight,” Armstrong says.

“What about me?” A female asks. Her voice is nasally and whiny.

“What about you?”

“Well I helped you, aren’t you going to help me?”

“Didn’t you come with a date?”

“Well, yes, but—” God her voice is familiar. I just can’t figure out where I know it from.

“My cousin, right? He loves my sloppy seconds. Speeches are starting. I gotta get back to my ball and chain.”

Gasps of horror ripple through the room, followed by a few giggles. These people really are assholes.

I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t believe he’s going to come out here and pretend nothing just happened. Like some other woman didn’t just have her lips around his cock. His distinctly average cock. Maybe even slightly below average in length, if I’m being one hundred percent honest.

A door opens and closes.

Lawson turns on the mic behind the podium and taps it, sending screeching feedback through the room, making people cringe. Too bad no one did that a minute ago.

Murmuring grows louder and glances flicker to the head table and then away as Brittany Thorton, a seriously skanky debutante, comes strutting through the doors, using a compact to check her lipstick. She’s made it her mission to attempt to get into the pants of half the eligible men in this room. She’s followed, not five seconds later, by a very smug-looking Armstrong.

“I’m going to kill him.” I grab the closest steak knife, but it appears my hasty, and possibly felonious, plan is unnecessary. My brothers leave their respective posts and stalk toward him. Across the room my mother is gripping my father’s arm, whispering furiously in his ear. Great. Just what I need, additional family drama.

“Oh shit,” Ruby gasps.

I follow her gaze to find Bane converging on Armstrong with my brothers. Bancroft is a tank and he used to play professional rugby. I’ve seen him with his shirt off, he’s built like a superhero and he’ll probably crush Armstrong, or at least break something. Possibly multiple somethings.

For a second I consider that Ruby should probably stop Bane from destroying Armstrong’s pretty, regal face, but then I realize I don’t actually care. In fact, the possibility that he might break Armstrong’s perfectly straight nose fills me with glee. Armstrong’s wellbeing is no longer my concern, it’s more about Bane ending up in prison for murder.

“I hope Armstrong has a good plastic surgeon, he’s going to need it once Bane is done with him.” Ruby echoes my internal hopes and her chair tips as she jumps up. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She nods to the right.

I notice my mother and father engaged in a heated discussion with Armstrong’s parents. I really don’t need this right now. Not the drama. Not the humiliation. All I wanted was a nice wedding. Instead I end up with a husband who gets a blow job during our reception—and it’s broadcast to everyone attending.

Ruby urges me into action. “Don’t worry about them. Get your stuff and we’ll get you the hell out of here. I’ll have the limo meet you by the entrance near your bridal suite as soon as I can.”

I nod and stumble unsteadily to my feet, thanks to having consumed the better part of a bottle of wine in the last minute and a half. It’s amazing how ninety seconds can change a person’s entire life.

All hell breaks loose as more men jump in to either pummel or extract Armstrong from the pummeling. I grab my clutch and phone from the table, gather up my stupid, too puffy gown, and head for the bridal suite, where I had prepared for what was supposed to be the most amazing day of my life. And now it’s likely the worst, at least I hope the mortification level I’m experiencing can’t exceed this. I feel like the foulest version of Cinderella ever.

I rush down the empty hall and grab the doorknob as I fumble around in my clutch for the key. I’m surprised when it turns. I thought I’d locked it before we left for the ceremony. Regardless, I need to get away from everyone before I either lose it or commit a felony. Maybe both. Murder in the first. Armstrong will be my victim. And maybe that horrible skank, Brittany.

I thrust the door open and slam it closed behind me, locking it from the inside. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin my makeup. Not that it matters since there’s no way I’m going out there again. I can’t believe my forever lasted less than twelve hours. I can’t believe the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life loving couldn’t be faithful to me for even one day. What the hell is wrong with me? With him? I’m as devastated as I am angry and embarrassed. Once I annul this farce of a marriage I’ll become a spinster. I should probably go ahead and adopt six or seven cats tonight.

“I need to get out of this dress,” I say to myself. I reach behind me and pull the bow at the base of my spine. Instead of unfurling, it knots and I only succeed in pulling it tighter. Of course my dress has to be difficult. I growl my annoyance and rush over to my dressing table where my makeup and perfume are scattered from earlier today. Half a mimosa sits unconsumed beside the vase of red roses Armstrong had delivered.

The card read: I can’t wait to spend forever loving you.

What a load of bullshit. I drain the contents of the champagne flute, not caring that the drink is warm and flat. Then I throw the glass, because it feels good and the sound of shattering crystal is satisfying. Next I heave the vase of roses, which explodes impressively against the wall, splattering water and shards of glass across the floor.

I yank out a couple of the drawers and find a pair of scissors. They actually look more like gardening shears and seem rather out of place, but I don’t question it. Instead I reach behind me with my back to the mirror and awkwardly try to cut myself free. It’s not easy with the way I have to crane my neck.

“Goddammit! I need to get out of this stupid dress!” I yell at my reflection. I think I might actually be losing it just a touch now. I stop messing around with the laces in the back and shove the scissors down the front. I nearly nick myself with the blade—they’re a lot sharper than I realized—but that doesn’t slow me down. I start hacking my way through the bodice; layers of satin, lace, and intricate beading sliced apart with every vicious snip.

I just want out of this nightmare.

SALE!

Shacking Up is on sale for only 99c for a limited time!  If you haven’t had a chance to meet Bane and Ruby and get in on their hot, hilarious antics, now is the perfect time!  Details on Helena’s website, where you’ll also find a great #giveaway!

Check out Shacking Up and read my review here!

NYT and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

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