Wedding Favors #3
By: Boone Brux
Releasing January 9,
2017
Entangled Lovestruck
Entangled Lovestruck
Blurb:
Playing house just got real…
Playing house just got real…
When Joya Bennett wakes up after
her brother’s wedding, half-naked and lying next to her lifelong crush, she’s
mortified. OMG, did she try to jump his bones? Worse, did she succeed?
Intending to lay low and housesit for her brother until the embarrassment
fades, she sneaks away before he wakes up.
What she didn’t plan on is having
company.
Lincoln Fisher doesn’t do relationships,
but if he did, his friend’s little sister would be the one to tie him down.
Good thing Joya had one too many drinks during the reception or he’d have
crossed a line. Her brother would kill him if he found out all the
places Linc wanted to kiss the sexy, auburn-haired beauty.
And now they’re stuck in the same
house. For two weeks.
She’s off-limits. And he needs to
keep it that way, even if the heat building between them is hot enough to blow
off the roof…
Each book in the Wedding Favors series is a stand-alone, full-length story that can be enjoyed out of order.
Book #1 Bridesmaid Blues
Book #2 Random Acts of Marriage
Book #3 Properly Groomed
Each book in the Wedding Favors series is a stand-alone, full-length story that can be enjoyed out of order.
Book #1 Bridesmaid Blues
Book #2 Random Acts of Marriage
Book #3 Properly Groomed
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
“Are you sure there isn’t somewhere else you
can stay?” She paused, then added, “For everybody’s sake.”
He pivoted to face her, a lazy
grin curling his mouth. “Is this about last night?”
“No.” It was totally about last night and whether she should be embarrassed or
relieved. “Why would you think this was about last night? Nothing
happened…right?”
“You don’t remember?”
Mortified, she shook her head.
He closed the distance between
them to a couple of inches and stroked his finger along her jaw. “Now that’s a
shame.”
All the saliva in her mouth dried
up and her breath hovered in her throat as his azure gaze caressed her face. He
smelled like an autumn harvest and minty toothpaste, with a dash of cinnamon
thrown into the mix. If lust had a smell, it would be Lincoln.
Before she could reply, he turned
toward the front door and walked inside, Chester trotting alongside him. Damn
it, he’d breached her barricade with no more than a steamy look.
Author Info:
Amazon Best Selling Author Boone Brux’s
stories range from high fantasy to humorous paranormal.
Having lived all over the world, and finally settling in the icy region of Alaska, she's always looking for the next adventure. It's not unusual to find Boone traversing the remotest parts of the Alaskan bush, gathering information for her stories. No person or escapade is off limits when it comes to weaving real life experiences into her books or blogs.
Join Boone's V.I.P. Club and be first to hear about new releases, events, free read, contests and giveaways, and so much more. Sign up for her newsletter and stay informed.
Having lived all over the world, and finally settling in the icy region of Alaska, she's always looking for the next adventure. It's not unusual to find Boone traversing the remotest parts of the Alaskan bush, gathering information for her stories. No person or escapade is off limits when it comes to weaving real life experiences into her books or blogs.
Join Boone's V.I.P. Club and be first to hear about new releases, events, free read, contests and giveaways, and so much more. Sign up for her newsletter and stay informed.
Author
Links:
Dear Jane
Animal Attraction #1
By: Marissa Clarke
Releasing January 9,
2017
Entangled Lovestruck
Entangled Lovestruck
Blurb:
Jane Dixon is a dating disaster. Flammable tablecloths and broken arms are just a typical evening for her unlucky companions. No wonder Jane never gets past a first date. But luckily her co-worker and new bff says he’s got loads of friends who’d date her more than once. If only she could stop thinking about how much fun he was to hang out with. And she’d never dropped a bucket of ice on his junk. Win.
All attorney Eric Blackwell has to do to make junior partner is not screw anything up for six weeks, which seems like a slam dunk until he finds himself matchmaker to the office “One Date Wonder” aka the boss’s daughter. It’s hard to stay focused when setting up the hottest girl he’s ever met with everyone but himself. Maybe he could just set her up with all the wrong men, and keep his hands off his new friend… Yeah. His promotion is toast.
Jane Dixon is a dating disaster. Flammable tablecloths and broken arms are just a typical evening for her unlucky companions. No wonder Jane never gets past a first date. But luckily her co-worker and new bff says he’s got loads of friends who’d date her more than once. If only she could stop thinking about how much fun he was to hang out with. And she’d never dropped a bucket of ice on his junk. Win.
All attorney Eric Blackwell has to do to make junior partner is not screw anything up for six weeks, which seems like a slam dunk until he finds himself matchmaker to the office “One Date Wonder” aka the boss’s daughter. It’s hard to stay focused when setting up the hottest girl he’s ever met with everyone but himself. Maybe he could just set her up with all the wrong men, and keep his hands off his new friend… Yeah. His promotion is toast.
Buy
Links:
Excerpt:
Operation Smooth Sailing had officially entered week two.
All Eric Blackwell needed to do in order to make junior partner at Dixon,
Rosenbaum & Schoot was maintain the status quo for the next six weeks.
Basically, he just had to stay under the radar and get the Anderson Enterprises
acquisition to work out on paper without screwing anything up.
He straightened his tie and pushed the button for the fifteenth
floor. Six weeks. No problem. Well, except for that little bit of bad news
about some potential negative tax consequences for Anderson Enterprises that
the analysis department had missed. Yeah, that.
He straightened his tie again. Being team leader, it was his task
to brief Mr. Dixon on the details, and he’d been putting it off, hoping someone
in his department would find some case law precedent, or a loophole, or a
freaking magic spell to fix it.
The elevator doors slid open, and before he made ten steps into
the lobby, a booming voice stopped him in his tracks. “This message arrived
yesterday afternoon, Marcie. Why am I only now receiving it?”
The receptionist cleared her throat and slumped in her chair
behind the semicircular teak desk in the lobby. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dixon. So many
things came at once near the end of the day. I emailed your secretary and she
said to—”
Face red, Mr. Dixon waved the paper in front of Marcie’s nose. He
wasn’t a small man by any means, but when he was angry, he filled a room. “So,
now you’re going to blame someone else?”
“No sir, your secretary said to… I… I…”
“There are two things I can’t abide: people who shift blame, and
procrastinators.”
Yep, well, today probably wasn’t a good day to deliver late news
about the analysis department’s mistake. Eric froze near the west wall of the
lobby and did his best wood paneling imitation, hoping his dark suit jacket was
sufficient camo to keep Mr. Dixon from noticing him. This was the last thing he
needed first thing in the morning. He hadn’t even made it to his office yet.
“Dixon, Rosenbaum & Schoot prides itself on reliability,
punctuality, and accuracy.” Mr. Dixon emphasized his statement with a palm slap
on the desk, causing poor Marcie to almost launch out of her skin. “We expect
all our employees to uphold this standard.”
“Yes, sir.” Marcie stared down at her hands.
Mr. Dixon folded the message and placed it in his suit pocket.
“Well, then.”
Eric held his breath as the man strode with purpose toward the
hallway to his office.
“Mr. Blackwell.”
Shit, shit, shit. How did he do that? He’d never even turned around. No way could
he have seen him standing there. “Good morning, Mr. Dixon.”
“I believe you are late delivering the financials on the Anderson
deal. I’ll hold three o’clock open for you. Since I haven’t heard anything on
this, I expect good news.”
“Three o’clock.” Eric’s stomach sank. Yeah…sank. Perfect. Man the
lifeboats; Operation Smooth Sailing just hit an iceberg.
Once Mr. Dixon disappeared from view, Marcie covered her face with
her hands. Crying did it to Eric every time—yanked his heart out and stomped on
it. When he was younger, he’d do anything to stop his mother’s crying, and he’d
do anything now. Poor Marcie.
He took a deep breath and approached the desk. “Hey, Marcie. Sorry
about that. He’s really not all that bad.” Well, that was a bust. It came out
more like a question than a statement of fact.
To his relief, her eyes were completely dry when she lowered her
hands from her face. “Yes, he is. He’s…” But she didn’t finish her thought
before the phone rang. “Dixon, Rosenbaum, & Schoot, could you hold please?”
Without waiting for an answer, she pushed the hold button. “I just had a
million things come in at once this morning, too”—she gestured to a foot-tall
stack of mail on the corner of the desk—“and I can’t possibly handle all of it
and answer the phones. And Mr. Dixon scares me.”
Yeah, second that. His grip tightened on the briefcase containing the bad news report
on the acquisition. “Is there something I can do to help you?”
“No.” She adjusted her headset. “You’re sweet to ask, though.”
The elevator slid open, and a delivery guy stepped out with an
enormous bouquet of flowers. Making a line straight for Marcie, he set the vase
on the desktop and shoved a clipboard at her right as the phone rang again. She
put two more calls on hold as the guy stood there, clipboard out, clearly
unaffected by the harried receptionist.
“Can anyone sign for those?” Eric asked when the phone rang again.
The deliverer handed him the pen, he signed for the flowers, and the guy went
on his way while Marcie directed a call to the Worker’s Comp Department and
another to the Family Law Division.
She stood and checked the card on the flowers, and with a groan,
slumped down in her chair. “I have the worst luck ever. Of course they go to
the office farthest from my desk.”
He turned the arrangement to find out who it was for. “Jane Dixon”
was scrawled in blue ink on the undersized envelope held in place with a
plastic pitchfork-looking thing.
Jane Dixon. Eric played the image of her through his head. Small and blonde
with huge blue eyes—not anything like her father, the man currently waiting to
kill Eric’s partnership dreams. He and Jane had been in the same meetings on
occasion, but they’d never spoken to each other…just stared—well, he’d
stared; she probably hadn’t even noticed him.
Jane put in long, long hours, like he did. He knew this because
even though she worked in the Family Law Division and he in the Business
Mergers and Acquisitions Department, her office was down the hall from his. One
of the highlights of his day was when she walked by his open door. On most
nights, her office light was still on well after nine o’clock when he packed it
in to go home.
He stared at the card, dying to peek inside and see who was
sending her flowers. Maybe a boyfriend… A strange ping of jealousy flared and
he almost laughed. Jealous. He was the pitiful guy who left his door open to
score a look at her. She didn’t even know who he was. It wasn’t like he’d ever
dreamed of asking her out or anything—okay, well, maybe he had dreamed of it,
but it was a ridiculous fantasy. Not only was there a strict non-fraternization
policy at DR&S, she was the boss’s daughter, for fuck’s sake.
Jealous? Nope. Pathetic? Absolutely.
The switchboard lit up again, and the receptionist gave a frustrated
huff.
“Listen, Marcie. I’m going down that hallway anyway. Why don’t I
just drop these off for you?” He picked up the vase.
“Oh my gosh, Mr. Blackwell. You’re the nicest guy. Thank you so
much.”
Nice… Yeah, being Mr. Nice Guy had nothing to do with getting a
close-up look at Jane Dixon. Nothing at all. Again, pathetic. “Not a problem. I
hope your day gets better.”
“It just did.”
Yeah, so had his.
Author Info:
Marissa
Clarke is a multi-award-winning, RITA® nominated
author of romance for adults and teens. She lives in Texas, where everything is
bigger, especially the mosquitoes. When not writing, she wrangles her rowdy
pack of three teens, husband, and a Cairn terrier named Annabel, who rules the
house (and Marissa's heart) with an iron paw.
Marissa Clarke is a pseudonym. Her real name is Mary Lindsey and she also writes young adult novels for Penguin USA.
To receive updates and insider information on Marissa's upcoming books, subscribe to her newsletter.
Marissa Clarke is a pseudonym. Her real name is Mary Lindsey and she also writes young adult novels for Penguin USA.
To receive updates and insider information on Marissa's upcoming books, subscribe to her newsletter.
Author
Links:
WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS
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