Archives for February 2019

I was so excited to reveal the cover of this gorgeous book, and the premise of The Right Man is SO up my alley (he’s a famous rock star, and she’s a prostitute). OH WOW I LOVE unconventional love stories!! You know this one’s gonna bring on the tumultuous angst and social issues (don’t even get me started on the paparazzi…).

Sounds like a modern-day fairy tale (Cinderella anyone). My favorite of them all! P.S. Can I just say how in LOVE I am with the graphics? So dreamy and beautiful, I just want to immerse myself in their world.
And today, the author is giving you a peek into the story via an excerpt and a chance to win a signed copy!

Ready for the excerpt?

Jewel
“You look hot.” My roommate clattered toward me at a precarious pace in her skyscraper heels.
“Thanks, Cam.” I stamped a hand to my hip and posed for her as the bus door closed behind me, and she stopped and twirled to show me her backless dress. Her long black hair swished the exposed skin above her ass. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Digging the cartoon-character-slash-schoolgirl vibe.” Her dark red lipstick framed an approving smile.
“Thought it might sell well with the older guys on this side of town.”
“Sick bastards acting out their underage-girl fantasies. You’re probably right.” She unwrapped a piece of gum, split it, popped half in her mouth, and offered me the other.
“Appreciate it,” I said as I took it.
“You’re late.” She narrowed her olive-green eyes at me. “You stop to take a client on the way over?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “Just another run-in with Wanda.”
“Bitch.”
“Yeah.” I agreed readily, my empty stomach twisting. “You made your half of the rent yet?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. Glossy ebony hair spilled over her delicate shoulders.
“But I thought you had most of it saved already.”
“Had most of it.” She slowly blinked her pretty eyes at me.
“What do you mean, had?” My stomach didn’t just twist, it knotted.
“I gave it to Lori.”
“Oh no.” I squeezed my eyes closed for a second, but there was no shutting out the sh!tty reality.
“I had to.” My roomie donned a pleading expression. “She was sick. She had the shakes and was puking her guts out.”
“She’s a heroin addict, Cam, and needs to go to rehab. She’ll just use that money for another fix.”
Bright pink neon lights advertising a triple-X show blasted my gaze. A reminder, not that I needed one, that the harsh world we lived in couldn’t be remedied with kindness.
“You don’t have your part either?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“We’re f*cked.” Frowning, she touched my arm. “I’m sorry, Jewel.”
“It’s okay.” Kindness might not change much, but I couldn’t blame Cam for it.
I covered her fingers with mine. Even through the worn cotton of my jacket, I could tell her skin was freezing cold.
“Two softies is what we are.” I gave her a warm smile. “I probably would’ve done the same thing. What are the odds we’d end up rooming together, huh?”
“You regret moving in with me?” Her crimson lips trembled uncertainly.
“No. And anyway, it was your apartment to begin with. Lucky for me, you took me in. I had no job. Barely any money after my boyfriend screwed me over. You took a chance on me. Rescued me.” I squeezed her hand and frowned. “You’re freezing.”
I removed her fingers, unzipped my jacket, and shrugged out of it. Goose bumps erupted on my exposed flesh, and there was a lot of it, more than Cam revealed in her slinky slip. A guy in a passing car let out a piercing whistle and gave me a leering look, and then he was gone.
“Put this on,” I said.
“I’m okay. It’s seventy degrees outside. I’m hardly freezing.”
“It’s damp. There’s a chill in the air. Take it.” I shook the jacket at her. “I was just going to tie it around my waist, but it messes with my look.”
“All right.” She frowned at me, but put it on.
“You make any money tonight?”
I held my breath for her answer as we moved into our usual position by the streetlight closest to the curb. Best to flaunt our attributes in the light while we could. The longer we kept on making our living like this, the sooner we would wind up falling back into the shadows to hide the toll it took on us.
“Fifty bucks.”
“That’s something. Good for you.”
“One blow job.” Her brow creased. “That’s hardly rent.”
“It’s a start.” I bit down on my plump, often-abused bottom lip. “Maybe we can convince Wanda to let us pay what we owe in installments.”
“Maybe,” she said, but we both knew there was zero chance. No excuses. No exceptions. Wanda was a total hard-ass.
“Hey.” Cam lifted her chin to point at a sleek sports car idling at the curb. “Would you look at that.”
“What?” I swiveled to glance in the same direction.
“It’s a Porsche 911 GT2 RS.”
“I know what kind of car it is.”
She raised a disbelieving brow.
“Okay. No, I didn’t. You’re the car expert, Camaro Montepulciano.”
“Not an expert. Not like my dad.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “But you have nearly every make, model, and spec memorized like he does.”
A love for all things automotive was his one and only legacy to her. After she’d lost her job as a cashier in the auto parts store and her father discovered what she’d taken up as a second career, he completely shut her out. Yet she religiously read Car and Driver magazine every morning as though it were a devotional, just on the off chance that he might one day change his mind and welcome her back.
“Special silver-metallic finish,” she said almost reverently as she drank in the sight of the expensive car. “Rear-wheel drive. Six cylinders. Three-point-eight-liter twin-turbo engine. Seven hundred horsepower. That baby can do zero to sixty in two point seven seconds.”
“Sounds super sexy.” I snorted, not as impressed by cars. “So, go get him.”
“Nah.” She shook her head. “You look way hotter than I do.”
“Not true, but all right. I’ll go over and take a shot, if you’re sure. Though I better move fast, since I’ve probably only got two-point-something seconds to snag him if he stomps on the gas.” I straightened my shoulders.
She shook her head at me as I took my first step. “Work your approach faster, roomie. He just put his blinker on. He’s gonna get away. And that’s $293,000 worth of sports car, before options.”
In other words, if I played it right, I might make rent. read more