Boss Man Bridegroom by Meghan Quinn #newrelease

BOSS MAN BRIDEGROOM by Meghan Quinn
Release Date: January 23rd
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Blurb:
“Will you do me the greatest honor of all time and be my bridegroom?” she asks, hope in her eyes . . .

How did I get here? My assistant, bent on one knee, holding my hand, her expectant face waiting for an answer.

Just . . . how?

How did I go from being insulted by Charlee Cox to hiring her to be my assistant? How is it that she’s chaos in color – making me crazy and my life better at the same time?

I never thought I would be staring down at her bright blue eyes begging me to go along with this ridiculous scheme I suggested.

Yes, I suggested. Like the idiot I am, I thought hey, why not start an HR nightmare and have my assistant ask me to marry her?

Confused? Don’t worry, so am I.

But try to follow along, because this is how I became Boss Man Bridegroom.

My Review

Rating : 4 Stars

This is exactly the kind of story I love! It was funny from the very first moment, till the very end, it was pure cheesy, fluffy, romantic goodness. The storyline is simple and fresh, it’s well crafted and well paced. The surface level plotline may be very simple, but what really enhanced it and made it so enjoyable were the absolutely perfect characters! They were realistic with their flaws and imperfections. What was refreshing is most times they were honest with each other even though it was a contractual/fake relationship.

Charlee Cox is a strong, colorful character, she radiates a strong, responsible personality who is also independent. I loved that she had no filter and I liked her bubbly, sassy and vibrant personality. She stands up for herself and for others and doesn’t back down in front of her grumpy and straight-laced boss. She literally crashes into his life and rocks his world in a good way. Both Charlee and Rath grew and changed throughout the story and I appreciated that it was not just one of them. Rath changed the most, but Charlee did a bit as well.

Rath is very over-the-top and charismatic. He is occasionally rude, but unintentionally, due to his obliviousness, not because he is a jerk. He has high standards and Charlee is perfect at everything that she does. Rath is guarded, but Charlee slowly chips away at his protective walls.

Their romance was well-developed, one thing I liked the most about this story is how honest their conversations were. They proved that when two people are honest with each other without having any secrets, the things between them will work out for sure. I liked how their relationship was getting stronger with every chapter. Their chemistry was perfect. They were so adorable together, and so hot too!

If you are looking for a lighthearted and fun romance, this book is a perfect choice.

Thanks for stopping by and happy reading!

Many thanks to the author for the advanced reader copy of this book.

Excerpt

 

**RATH**

“Rath Westin, my boss, my commander in chief, my Gucci Governor—”

“I don’t wear Gucci.”

“Go with it.” She winks and clears her throat. “Mr. Big Shot, Barking Britches, and Irritable Ira—”

“Jesus . . . Christ.” I rub my hand down my face.

“Will you do me the great honor . . .” She wobbles on her bent knee and clutches my hand to steady herself. “Will you . . .” She tears up, her voice becoming shaky. “I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before.”

“I sure as hell hope not,” I say through gritted teeth.

“And I didn’t think I’d get emotional either.” On a deep breath, she finishes, “Will you do me the greatest honor of all time and be my bridegroom?”

Christ, nothing is ever simple with her.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Did I not do it right?” she mumbles to herself. “See, I knew I was doing something wrong.”

“No, why did you say bridegroom?”

“Oh, well, that’s what you would be. You see, that’s what they used to call men who were soon to be married . . . a bridegroom. But then somewhere along the way they shortened it to groom. But if you marry me, I would give you the dignified pleasure of retaining the honorable title of bridegroom.”

“Don’t call me bridegroom.”

“Boss man bridegroom?” she asks with a cheeky grin.

How the fuck did I allow myself to get in this position? With my quirky and sometimes annoying but mostly efficient assistant, kneeling in front of me . . . proposing.

Proposing to me.

In a pair of belly-covering slacks and suspenders, hair pulled back into a tight bun like she often wears it, looking up at me through her red-framed glasses, her bright blue eyes shining past the lenses, begging me to go along with this ridiculous scheme I suggested.

Yes, me.

Like the goddamn idiot I am, I thought hey, why not start an HR nightmare and have my assistant ask me to marry her?

Confused?

Don’t worry, so am I.

Where do I even start? Maybe from the beginning?

Here is a quick rundown: my ex, who used to work with me, left me for bigger and better things. We don’t talk about her, ever, because she took my heart with her. Instead, I buried myself in my work. I became a hermit in my office, firing one assistant after another because they weren’t good enough or their voice annoyed me, or they thought salt was sugar and gave me one bad cup of coffee that ended their career at Westin Enterprises—that mistake was on them.

In my spare time—not that there’s much—but when I do have spare time, I follow my two idiot friends around the city, helping them avoid fucking up their lives. But now that they’re both in loving and committed relationships, one planning a wedding with my sister as the bride, I have much more time on my hands.

Maybe they’re to blame for my demise, for this ridiculous charade I’m now a part of.

What does this have to do with my assistant proposing to me?

Well, you see, I was in the market for yet another new assistant, and that’s when one of my best friends, Bram, suggested I lean on his assistant, Linus, to help me find someone. Side note: Linus is a gift from God, and I’ve offered him huge pay raises many times to jump ship and join my company, but his loyalty lies with Bram . . . unfortunately.

So Linus helped me find an assistant, and that’s where it started to go downhill.

The minute I saw her, I knew it wasn’t going to be a good fit.

Why?

Because she’s too goddamn beautiful.

Because she’s far too bubbly.

Because with every smile and checklist she devises, she makes me want to bend her over my desk and make her mine.

But, since I clearly don’t know how to make any decisions worth a shit, I hired her, right there on the spot.

And that was the beginning of the end.

Need to know more? Well in case you are on pins and needles about my answer to her proposal, I said yes.

Here’s the story of how I became Boss Man Bridegroom.

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

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I Dare You (Truth and Dare Duet #2) by Lylah James #excerpt reveal

 

I DARE YOU by Lylah James
Release Date: January 30th

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Blurb:

Enemies to best friends and now lovers.

Maddox Coulter.

Was my enemy. Now my best friend.

You know him… Popular jock, rich enough to buy a town and a modern day casanova with a dirty smirk.

He’s every girl’s wet dream. But he wants me.

Maddox needs me.

One night of untamed passion has us dangling over the edge of something dangerous and it could forever break us.

Our hearts are on the line.

Maddox is keeping secrets.

I vowed to never give up on him but I’m not sure he’s the same man I fell in love with anymore.

I’m scared he’d leave my heart bleeding at his feet.

But worst, what if we go back to…

… hating each other?

 

Excerpt:

Maddox’s face darkened. He stepped closer, crowding into my space and pushing me back against the wall.

“Maddox-” I started but he cut me off with a low snarl, his chest vibrating with the cruel sound.

My chest cracked, open wide and the fissures of my broken heart scattered on the ground at our feet.

His eyes blazed with rage and… raw pain. “I’m self destructing every time I look at you, every time my eyes seek you out when we’re in the same room. You make destruction and melancholia taste like sweet, sweet fucking poison.”

His hands came up and he caged me against the wall. His minty breath whispered across my lips, a tempting touch but our lips didn’t meet. His mouth curled on the side, a sardonic smile.

“It hurts because you’re not mine. It hurts because we could have been good together but you decided to give up on us.”

His voice was rough and stiff as he spoke, his words slicing through the air and through me like a sharp sword. He left me bleeding on the spot and his eyes told me he didn’t care. “So spare me the speech, get the fuck out.”

My heart lurched and bled, the organ so fragile it couldn’t bear the assault of his words. His dark gaze went to my throat and we both stopped breathing for a mere second.

There was an unreadable expression on his face. A flash of pain echoed in his eyes before it was gone. I whimpered as he curled a finger around my necklace.

Our dreamcatcher.

Snap.

My eyes widened and I choked back a gasp. A single tear slid down my cheek as he snapped the necklace away from my neck, holding it up between us.

“I’ll be taking this back,” Maddox said, his voice raw and sharp, laced with enough heartbreak that my knees weakened and I slid to the ground.

He… took… my necklace. Snatched it right from my neck…and…

My lungs seized and a wounded sob broke through my throat.

Holding our dreamcatcher in the palm of his hand, he walked away.

 

 

About the Author:

Lylah James lives somewhere in Canada. She is usually pretty busy but she uses all her spare time to write. If she is not studying, sleeping, writing or working – she can be found with her nose buried in a good romance book, preferably with a hot alpha male.

Writing is her passion. The voices in her head won’t stop and she believes they deserve to be heard and read. Lylah James writes about drool worthy and total alpha males, with strong and sweet heroines. She makes her readers cry – sob their eyes out, swoon, curse, rage and fall in love. Mostly known as the Queen of cliffhanger and the #evilauthorwithablacksoul, she likes to break her readers’ hearts and then mend them again.

 

Connect w/Lylah:

Website: http://authorlylahjames.com/
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The Prince of Broadway (Uptown Girls #2) by Joanna Shupe #newrelease

Powerful casino owner.

Ruthless mastermind.

Destroyer of men.

He lives in the shadows . . .

As the owner of the city’s most exclusive casino, Clayton Madden holds the fortunes of prominent families in the palms of his hands every night. There is one particular family he burns to ruin, however, one that has escaped his grasp . . . until now.

She is society’s darling . . .

Florence Greene is no one’s fool. She knows Clayton Madden is using her to ruin her prestigious family . . . and she’s using him right back. She plans to learn all she can from the mysterious casino owner—then open a casino of her own just for women.

With revenge on his mind, Clay agrees to mentor Florence. However, she soon proves more adept—and more alluring—than Clay bargained for. When his plans are threatened, Clay must decide if he is willing to gamble his empire on love.

About the Book

The Prince of Broadway
by Joanna Shupe

Series
Uptown Girls

Genre
Adult
Historical Romance

Publisher
Avon Books

Publication Date
December 30, 2019

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Excerpt

THE PRINCE OF BROADWAY
An Uptown Girls Novel

© 2019 Joanna Shupe

Finally, Florence had gained Mr. Madden’s attention.

She followed Jack, the casino’s manager, deeper into the darkened corridors, anticipation crawling through her veins. She hadn’t come to the Bronze House to win money, though she’d done that quite handily.

No, she’d come here to learn.

Not the games, of course. Those she knew. Nor had she wanted to observe how a casino operated. Rather, she’d wanted to observe how the city’s best casino operated. From one man, the casino’s enigmatic owner, Clayton Madden.

Anyone who’d played a hand of cards or thrown a pair of dice in this town knew his name. Madden owned pool rooms, policy shops, craps games . . . He was the ruler of all gambling activity in town. It was said that everything he touched turned to gold, an empire that neither the police nor Tammany Hall could topple.

The Bronze House, however, had turned Madden into a legend.

Renowned as the most exclusive and the fairest of all the casinos, the Bronze House was where the elites went to drink champagne, eat caviar, and gamble. All the games were aboveboard, the dealers too well compensated to skim. Madden treated his staff and patrons well—unless they double crossed him. Those who dared to work against Madden’s interests were dealt with swiftly, irrevocably. In manners so horrific they were merely whispered about. Florence had heard stories about bones broken, houses burned. One enemy had supposedly been weighted down with cement and chains, and then dropped into the East River. 

As a woman, she’d known her presence here would attract attention. Had planned for it. Embraced it. Part of her had expected to be tossed out within moments of arriving. Yet, she’d been allowed to stay. More than once.

And he’d watched her.

Somehow she had sensed him up there, in the dark balcony, staring down at her despite not knowing what he actually looked like. Not many did, apparently, as he never left his club unless absolutely necessary. While the casino operated, he remained in the shadows and Jack handled the problems on the floor. 

Now, Madden wished to meet her. Even though this was what she needed, Florence had to admit it terrified her.

Daddy liked to tell all three Greene sisters, “Show no fear. Men are afraid of women they cannot intimidate.” So, she stood a little taller and pressed her shoulders back. She would face him bravely or not at all.

A large wooden door with a single brass plate loomed at the end of the corridor. Embossed on the plate in bold lettering read Do not enter. She suppressed a shiver. No fear.

Jack stopped and turned. The smooth dark skin of his forehead creased slightly as he studied her. “Do you scare easily, Miss Greene?”

“Certainly not.” At least, she was trying to appear that way.

A slow smile spread across Jack’s face. “Yes, indeed. You might be just what we need around here.” Before she could ask what he meant, he threw open the door and swept his arm out in a courtly gesture. “After you.”

Playing along, Florence gave a royal dip of her chin. “Thank you, sir.”

The room was brightly lit, a cheerful fire crackling in the grate. Eastern rugs covered the floors and dark wainscoting surrounded the walls. A large desk sat at one end, two small armchairs opposite. It was a cozy space, one well used. 

And it was empty.

She glanced over her shoulder at Jack. “Is he . . . ?”

“He’ll be along shortly, miss. Just wait here.” Jack gave her a brief nod and departed, leaving her alone in Clayton Madden’s office.

His office.

So this was where he oversaw his gambling syndicate. She would have thought it more . . . decadent. After all, the man was one of the richest and most powerful men in the city. Yet this was a simple space, not one designed to show off his considerable wealth. What a fascinating contradiction.

Papers were neatly stacked on his desk. She longed to flip through them, discover what matters awaited his attention. Credit he’d extended to patrons come due? Bills from his champagne and caviar suppliers? Reports on dealers and club operation?

Her mind whirled with possibilities, her heart full of giddy envy. Someday. Someday you’ll have an office just like this.

The door behind her opened and she spun toward it. A large man stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders taking up nearly the width of the entry. He was dressed entirely in black with no hint of color anywhere on him. Not a collar stud or silver button in sight. Dark hair framed his face, the strands a bit longer than the current style, and two scars marred his skin: one through his eyebrow and the other along his chin.

He was not conventionally pretty, like the society swells who slept all day and caroused at night. No, this man was handsome, but in a more rough and tumble, unforgiving way. He oozed confidence, as if he never failed, never let anyone tell him what to do. A warrior, scarred from years of battle, someone who’d built a kingdom with his two bare hands.

She wished that didn’t appeal to her, that she didn’t feel a strange pull in the pit of her stomach . . . but she did. Never had she come across a man like this. One so dangerous and shrewd, different from anyone she’d ever known.

She met his gaze and it was clear he was not-so patiently waiting for her to finish her assessment of him. Had she been staring too long? Clasping her hands, she wiped any hint of expression off her face. Don’t react. Give him nothing. After all, she’d perfected a blank look over the years, thanks to hiding her misadventures from her parents. It worked every time.

Madden’s lips quirked as if he instantly saw through her ruse. Impossible. She’d perfected that bland stare at each ball, dinner party, and social gathering since the age of eighteen. No one had ever suspected otherwise.

“Miss Greene.” He stepped forward and closed the door behind him. Trepidation slid along her spine, a cold chill of warning. She was alone with him, a man reportedly no stranger to violence.

He wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt Duncan Greene’s daughter. Would he?

Florence didn’t care for being afraid. She lived her life boldly, outside the lines of what society considered normal female behavior. Tea parties and sewing circles were not for her. She had more exciting plans in her future. Dice and roulette wheels. Cards and crap games. Fear was some other woman’s problem. 

She lifted her chin. “I presume you are Mr. Madden.”

“Have a seat.” Now behind his desk, he indicated one of the armchairs.

“Not until you answer my question.”

He paused and stared at her just long enough to make her uncomfortable. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, no hint to his thoughts whatsoever. “Was there a question, Miss Greene? Because I didn’t hear one.”

“Are you Mr. Madden?”

“I am, which means this is my casino. And you are trespassing.” He lowered himself into his large leather chair without waiting for her to be seated.

“No one has asked me to leave.”

“You are aware that women are forbidden from crossing our threshold. Yet you’ve flouted that rule. Many times. Care to tell me why?”

“I assumed your policies had changed.” A lie. Her first visit she’d entered through the kitchens, sneaking into the main casino. On subsequent visits, she’d flashed a smile and pressed a large bill into the hand of the man at the door. The staff recognized her now, though she knew Madden’s benevolence was the reason for her continued admittance.

“Let’s do away with the pretense. My curiosity is the only reason you’ve gained access to the Bronze House. I’m requesting you satisfy that curiosity now.”

Though he spoke politely, it somehow sounded like a threat. “Or?”

“Most people are smart enough not to refuse my requests.”

“You won’t hurt me.” It came out with more confidence than she felt. Inside, doubt twisted her stomach into knots.

One dark brow shot up. “Won’t I?”

“I don’t intimidate easily, Mr. Madden.”

A flash of something passed over his face, a glimpse of appreciation, perhaps. Had her answer pleased him?

“I’m beginning to see that. After all, someone nearly drugged your sister here and yet you return.”

Florence waived her hand. Mamie hadn’t been fooled. The man’s clumsy attempt at pouring an unknown liquid into her champagne had been as obvious as the heat in Hades. Besides, Florence felt eyes on her every time she visited the Bronze House, a protective presence that wouldn’t dare allow anything terrible to befall her within these walls.

Had it been Madden looking out for her? Watching her?

She wasn’t certain if the idea excited or frightened her. 

“I’m perfectly safe inside your casino.”

He didn’t bother to confirm or deny it. Instead, he said, “You show a remarkable skill at the tables. How did an uptown debutante learn such things?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Practice.”

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was rough and genuine, the mirth transforming his face into something . . . lighter. Younger. She hadn’t realized. He couldn’t be more than thirty or thirty-one years old. Tingles coursed through her, as if she’d been dealt an ace and a king while playing Twenty-One.

Goodness. Was she attracted to him?

She recognized the feeling. There had been various young men in her life over the years. Florence liked kissing and touching and all the things that went with it. She hadn’t ever considered saving herself for marriage, not when a whole wide world awaited her. She was a modern woman in charge of her own destiny—and her future did not include being under the thumb of a husband. She wanted an equal, not a jailer.

But an attraction to Clayton Madden would complicate things.

Madden collected himself, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I can see you’re no novice. You’ve walked out a winner each time you’ve visited. Yet, your presence here is disruptive. My patrons are unaccustomed to seeing a woman in their midst. You are . . . distracting.”

It would seem a compliment if not for his frown. “That is not my fault. Admit more women and they won’t notice me.”

“Impossible. No man would miss you, even in a crowd.”

Her throat dried out. That was most definitely a compliment. However, she didn’t think he was flirting with her, merely being honest. Clayton Madden didn’t seem like a man who flirted. “Your policy is antiquated. You should allow women to gamble.”

“Not a chance. If men are watching the women then they aren’t losing money to me.”

She bit back a smile. His attitude served her plans perfectly. Let him ignore half the population of New York, the women who were bored and looking for entertainment. Florence would soon take their pin money in her female-only casino. Still, she couldn’t resist adding, “So women must suffer for the stupidity of men. Again.”

He blinked, his expression full of both confusion and admiration. “I see you are a woman who speaks her mind. That’s a quality I appreciate. So let’s answer this once and for all. Why do you continue to visit the Bronze House? What are you after?”

It’s now or never, Florence. “I’m here for lessons. I wish for you to teach me how to operate a casino.”

Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of THE PRINCE OF BROADWAY by Joanna Shupe, we’re giving away a paperback set of the Four Hundred series by Joanna Shupe to one lucky winner!

GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to US shipping addresses only. One winner will receive a paperback set of the Four Hundred series by Joanna Shupe. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Avon Books.  Giveaway ends 1/31/2020 @ 11:59pm EST.  CLICK HERE TO ENTER!

About Joanna Shupe

JOANNA SHUPE has always loved history, ever since she saw her first Schoolhouse Rock cartoon. While in college, Joanna read every romance she could get her hands on and soon started crafting her own racy historical novels. In 2013, she won Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart® Award for Best Historical. She now lives in New Jersey with her two spirited daughters and dashing husband. To connect with Joanna, visit JoannaShupe.com.

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This promotion id brought to you by Pure Textuality PR.

Release by Aly Martinez #newrelease #bookreview

Release, an all-new “mesmerizing” and “captivating” standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez, is available now!

Growing up, Ramsey Stewart branded my soul in ways time could never heal.

At twelve, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

At thirteen, he gave me my first kiss.

By sixteen, we’d fallen in love, planned a future together, and had our eyes set on the horizon.

Love never fails, right?

But for Ramsey, it did.

Love failed him.

I failed him.

The entire world failed him.

At seventeen, Ramsey was convicted of killing the boy who assaulted me.

Move on,he wrote in his first and only letter from prison.

Start a new life, he urged.

I don’t love you anymore, he lied.

There was no such thing as giving up on Ramsey. Love may have been our curse, but he was mine—then, now, and forever.

So here I am, twelve long years later, waiting for a man I don’t even know to emerge from between the chain link gates.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2QOughI

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ReleaseAlyM

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2oGE1oo

My Review

Rating : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

This story packs quite an emotional punch with its absorbing plot, beautiful second chance romance and the author’s poignant storytelling. She skillfully reveals her characters’ vulnerabilities and did a good job of showing the insecurities and baggage carried by each of them. Their story is very painful in parts. But their bond is so strong, that I just knew that they would be able to withstand any obstacle that came their way.  I could not put this book down and cared about these characters.

Ramsey and Thea’s story unfolds layer by layer, shifting back and forth between the present and bittersweet past memories. Ramsey has spent twelve years in prison and has to be strictly adhering to the conditions of his parole. We see the adjustments he has to make as he gets back to a normal life, with the help of his sister and Thea. Thea was such a beautiful character, persistent and loyal. She has been waiting for Ramsey to come home. Yet, she is pissed off at him for his mistakes, for abandoning her.

The emotional connection between Ramsey and Thea is undeniable but there was a lot of push pull between these two. This book really pulls at your heartstrings as you see how Ramsey is struggling with his past, his present that doesn’t feel like freedom and is unable to see a happy future for them. He is convinced the stigma of his actions will follow him for the rest of his life.

This is a story about young love, loyalty, trust and how powerful love can be when two people are destined to be together. Their love for each other shines through all of the drama that they are going through. They deserve happiness and I was happy to see them finally getting the life they were meant to have.

Many thanks to the author and Social Butterfly PR for the advanced reader copy of this book.

Excerpt

It was funny. I’d spent almost half my life surrounded by the biggest, baddest criminals the state of Georgia had been able to capture. Yet, I was terrified of a five-foot-five woman who for some asinine reason was still in love with me.

I couldn’t be around her. Not if I wanted to keep my head straight and my eye on the prize. I had three years before I got off parole. I needed to get a job, tuck away some cash, and, the second I was allowed to leave Georgia, get the hell out of there. Maybe, if I was lucky, I’d be able to convince my sister to come with me. We didn’t have to go far. We could stay in the south if she wanted. South Carolina, North Carolina, Alabama, Tennessee—there were schools everywhere. Nora wouldn’t have trouble finding a job. The hardest part would be convincing her to leave Thea.

However, maybe if she did, Thea would finally move on with her life and stop obsessing about me.

I’d known they lived together for a while. I didn’t want anything to do with Thea while I was locked up, but I was happy as hell Nora had someone to lean on. I had been under the impression that Nora had gotten her own place when she found out about my release. I had been under that impression because Nora had straight-up told me she was getting her own place after I’d declared there was no way I was living with Thea.

Now, I was hiding in my room, waiting for Nora to wake up, open my door, and escort me to breakfast like a damn bodyguard so I could avoid confrontation.

Next up in my efforts to kill time was a workout. Sit ups, push-ups, planks, running in place. This was when I realized Nora hadn’t bought me any deodorant.

Another shower.

Another naked lap around the bedroom, and this time, I managed to keep my hands off my cock.

Finally, I got dressed. This required me to pick through a bunch of preppy shit Nora had bought for me to find tattered jeans and a fitted green tee that clung to my chest like a damn glove. In my closet, I found a belt and a pair of distressed brown lace-up boots that maybe could have doubled as combat boots if the war was taking place on a runway. But what the hell did I know about style? I’d been wearing orange or puke beige for almost half my life.

When I was done with all of that and there was still no sign of Nora, I sat on the edge of the bed and decided to give the phone thing a try. I wasn’t totally out of the technology loop. We had computers at the library and we were allowed to use them if we earned the privileges. But they might as well have been dinosaurs compared to the phone she’d bought me. I couldn’t even get it to read my face with the fancy secret laser thing. I gave up trying pretty quickly.

So there I was, bored out of my mind, starving, and poking at my newfound wrinkles in the bathroom mirror, when I heard a knock at my door.

“Ramsey?”

I froze, my eyes locked on the mirror, panic staring back at me.

Thea.

Jesus. I needed to find somewhere else to live.

Leaning out of the bathroom, I stared at the door. If I was super quiet, maybe she’d think I was still asleep and go the hell away.

When I didn’t reply, she knocked again. Her voice was timid and sweet, not at all like the fearless girl I’d grown up with. I hated it.

“Ramsey? You hungry? I’m making breakfast? I was wondering if you wanted something?” Everything from my name to the fact that she was making breakfast was a question, as if maybe she was asking permission to cook in her own house.

My stomach was currently feasting on my backbone. Still, I said nothing.

She sighed. “Okay. Well, if you change your—” There were several seconds of silence.

I quirked my eyebrow at the door, trying to figure out why she’d abruptly stopped talking, and then cursed my inability to develop x-ray vision.

I held my breath, hoping to hear her footsteps as she walked away.

No. Such. Fucking. Luck.

The door swung open and she came walking inside with her hands stacked over her eyes. “Look, I know you’re awake. I heard you running earlier. I also heard you take at least three showers. Sorry, but the house isn’t that big. Neither is the hot water heater. Are you at least dressed so I can open my eyes?”

Brave. Unapologetic. And completely oblivious to boundaries. Now that was the Thea I knew.

“Get out,” I barked.

“Dressed? Not dressed? Help me out here?”

“Get. Out.”

She kept her eyes closed. “You gotta eat, Ramsey. You can’t stay locked up in this room forever.”

I wanted to tell her to get the hell out again. Honestly, it was on the tip of my tongue. But it never made it past my lips because my traitorous eyes stole a head-to-toe of her lithe body. She was barefoot, wearing jeans—tight ones that tapered at her ankle. They looked like mine in the sense that they had a rip in the knee. They didn’t look like mine in the sense that they hugged the curve of her hips and more than likely her ass too. A pink tank top stretched across her chest, and I swear on my life, fuck x-ray vision because I could see the pebble of her nipples beneath the fabric.

It wasn’t a ridiculous dress.

It wasn’t stupid fucking heels.

She wasn’t wearing a face full of clown makeup.

She was just Thea.

The nostalgia pumped through my veins like acid even as my cock stirred. Fuck, I should have jerked off again in the shower.

“I’m dressed,” I bit out, desperate for her to put her damn hands down and maybe use them to cover her tits instead.

Her long, brown lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. Those fucking eyes had once owned me. As a huge smile lit her face, I felt the claim all over again.

“Oh, look, you chose one of the outfits I picked out for you.”

Of course I had. Of fucking course. As soon as I got her out of my room, I was going to take the outfit off and light it on fire.

About Aly

Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her husband and four young children.

Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and olives. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.

She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.

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Bossman Bridegroom by Meghan Quinn #coverreveal

BOSSMAN BRIDEGROOM by Meghan Quinn
Release Date: January 23rd

Add to Goodreads:
https://bit.ly/2QvTsea

PREORDER NOW!!
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/BOSSMANBRIDEGROOM

 

 

Blurb:
“Will you do me the greatest honor of all time and be my bridegroom?” she asks, hope in her eyes . . .

How did I get here? My assistant, bent on one knee, holding my hand, her expectant face waiting for an answer.

Just . . . how?

How did I go from being insulted by Charlee Cox to hiring her to be my assistant? How is it that she’s chaos in color – making me crazy and my life better at the same time?

I never thought I would be staring down at her bright blue eyes begging me to go along with this ridiculous scheme I suggested.

Yes, I suggested. Like the idiot I am, I thought hey, why not start an HR nightmare and have my assistant ask me to marry her?

Confused? Don’t worry, so am I.

But try to follow along, because this is how I became Boss Man Bridegroom.

 

 

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

Connect with Meghan:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/meghanquinnauthor
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