RELEASE DAY: June 9
After losing his best friend to another
guy, the notoriously too-confident Max Emory suddenly feels lost. He may have
devastatingly good looks, an abundance of charm, and a claim to one of the
biggest hotel empires around, but he has no ambition anymore. So when his
fed-up friends decide they’ve had enough of his moping, they sign him up to be
the next bachelor on the reality series Love Island. And between his pride and
his forged signature on an ironclad contract, Max just can’t say no.
Now he’s stranded in paradise with
twenty-four women, one terrifying goat, and Becca, the breathtaking barista who
already turned him down back home. The closer Max gets to Becca, the more
determined he becomes to win her over. As she gets to know him better, things
start heating up. But is Becca really after Max’s heart—or is she after the
cash prize she could claim once the cameras stop rolling?
AMAZON: http://amzn.to/1LiOvv4
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Publisher: Skyscape
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Language: English
About Rachel Van Dyken:
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall
Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary
romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks
and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Van-Dyken/e/B0054TW5AA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1407369649&sr=8-2-ent
EXCERPT
Excerpt ONE:
“Have you been sexually active in the past
six months?” The doctor sniffed and started pulling out supplies, laying them
across the table. I watched in horror as visions of getting abducted by aliens
danced like sugarplums in my head.
People die from fear.
It could happen.
I read stories where people would just
spontaneously combust.
And it was about to happen if the heat in
my body and all-around shaking were any indicator.
“I have to—” Jason ran toward the door and
slammed it behind him.
“Weak stomach?” The doctor chuckled.
“He’s afraid of my nakedness—makes him feel
like less of a man.”
“O-okay.” The doctor laughed again and
motioned for me to turn around. “Now, drop your pants to your knees.”
Let it be known that no man. NO MAN should
ever hear those words from someone who could pass as his great-grandfather.
The cold air bit my ass as I turned and
waited.
“Now, bend over.”
Shhiiitttttt.
I did as he said, cursing Jason and all his
future children.
“Now, this may be cold.”
Just let it be small.
“And a bit painful, it’s totally normal to
experience some discomfort.”
“Ha-ha.” I laughed dryly. “Guess we know
what it means if it’s comfortable, am I right, Doc?”
And silence.
Worst thing to say when you have your pants
at your ankles and the doctor’s about two seconds away from making you see
stars. Where were the drugs?
“Now try not to tense up.”
Ha, seriously?
“Here we go.”
Oh. God. Did he need to count down?
“Turn your head and—cough.”
“Mother of God!” I shouted, hitting my
hands against the metal table as the doctor made his intentions perfectly
clear.
“Cough!” he shouted.
“Stop yelling at me!”
“I’m not yelling!”
“I want to go home now.”
“Almost done!” The doctor laughed
uncomfortably.
I choked when he removed his digits from my
special place. I had one of those moments, the kind where you feel so used
you’re not sure whether you should cry or laugh.
“All right! You can put your pants back
on.”
I felt ashamed. Like I’d just been screwed
and not even offered dinner for my gallant efforts in the bedroom. Holy shit,
was this what girls felt like after one-night stands?
Where the hell were my flowers?
At least give me a sucker or something . .
. maybe a sticker? Saying I got . . . never mind. Those types of stickers were
probably illegal.
“Now.” The doc took off his gloves and
washed his hands.
Right. LIKE I WAS UNCLEAN!
He put on a new pair.
And the torture train just kept tooting.
Ha, tooting, see, it’s funny because . . .
never mind.
“I’ll just need to draw some blood.” He
pulled out a giant-ass needle and I had one of those moments that I’m sure
every five-year-old experiences right before his mom holds him down while he
gets a needle in the ass.
Terror.
“This won’t hurt a bit.” He laughed
nervously.
HOLY SHIT, STOP LAUGHING!
I winced as he pricked my arm and started
drawing blood. His lips were moving but I wasn’t really catching anything.
“All donnne.” His voice was low. Why was he
talking so slow?
“Youuu cannn gooo noowww.”
I shook my head and tried to go to the door
but was met with total blackness before I took two steps.
The last thought in my head?
I was trapped in a room with a man who’d
just seen my Mighty Max. I hoped to God he hadn’t liked it.
Excerpt Two:
Son of a possessed goat. I was screwed. Oh,
wait, no, that’s what I would have been doing had my satanic brother not
knocked on my door and barged in.
Becca moved slightly, her face planted
against my stomach. Her breath hot on my skin. Shit, I was in a bad place, a
very bad place. She would be the death of me and the last thing I needed was
for Reid to think I was getting all hot and bothered because Hades had eaten
another pair of my underwear.
“’Sup, Bro?” I tried to act casual as I
placed my hands behind my head and exhaled.
Reid’s eyes narrowed. “You look funny.”
“I just woke up.” I faked a yawn. “You’re
no perfect male specimen in the mornings either, my friend.”
“Right.” Reid looked around the room, his
eyes wildly searching for something. “Have you seen Becca? I went to her hut to
remind her about the morning confessional and also make sure she knew what time
her date with you was, but she was gone.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she died.”
Becca pinched me in the ass.
My body jerked.
“Maybe. She. Died.” Reid repeated, his eyes
narrowing more and more by the second.
“I was kidding!” I laughed nervously.
“She’s probably just . . . swimming. You know.” My throat was drier than the
desert. “With the fish.”
“Becca hates fish.”
“She hates sharks,” I corrected. “Fish
aren’t sharks. Do you even watch the Discovery Channel when I turn it on?”
“Swimming, huh?”
“Yeah, she loves swimming, one of her
favorite things to do, next to, you know . . .” Me, HA! “Art.”
“Art?” Reid looked confused. “What kind of
art does she do?”
I can neither confirm nor deny that Becca
was actively squeezing something that should never be squeezed in that way.
Ever. And I do mean. Ever. Ever. Ever. “Er . . . she does nude art.”
And the squeeze just got worse. I kicked my
feet, hoping to land one on her, but she kept squeezing.
“Nude art?” Reid laughed. “Wow, that’s kind
of hot.”
“Everything about Becca’s hot.” I shrugged.
The squeezing stopped. Hey, I’d done
something right!
“You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, man, I really do. She’s . . .
incredible.”
Was it wrong to be a bit sad at the loss of
her hand?
“Hmm.” Reid scratched his head. “Hey, what’s
Hades have in his mouth?”
I followed the direction of his gaze and
felt my face pale. Becca’s dress. Hades had somehow grabbed it in the middle of
the night and was now apparently trying to find the best way to deface it, if
the way he was sitting on it was any indication.
“My dress!” I blurted. “I brought one just
in case . . .”
“Dude!” Reid held up his hands. “What? Is
there something you need to tell me? I mean you’ve always been sort of, like,
metro, but . . .”
Damn it!
While trying to think of a great comeback .
. . I nearly seized. As what had once been a hand was replaced by something a
lot more inviting.
Damn that woman.
Damn that tongue!
I shuddered.
“You okay?” Reid got closer to the bed.
“You look a little sick.”
“Stop!” I gasped. Holy shit, I didn’t know
my name. What was my name?
Reid, most likely sensing my distress,
chose that moment to sit, yes, SIT on my bed. The same bed that I planned to
purchase and send home and put in the middle of my living room and stare at. I
would refer to it as the miracle bed. Because what was taking place? Miracle.
I clenched the sheets in my hand and
swallowed as sweat trickled down my face, “No, man, hell.” I trembled. “I’m
just . . .” Breathing ragged, I licked my lips. “Not feeling, right . . . shit,
right there.”
“What?” Reid’s concern quickly turned to
suspicion.
“Er . . .” I shook my head. “I’m going to
puke!”
Reid jolted off the bed. “Dude, you know
how I feel about puke!”
“Then”—oh look, heaven!—“go away!” I
clenched my teeth together, snapping them as my entire body went rigid.
“Fine!” Reid held up his hands. “Just don’t
forget about your confessional.”
The door slammed behind him at the exact
same time I saw a billion stars give birth to tiny planets. It was also the
same time that I saw the secrets to the universe and waved at a unicorn as it
floated by me.
I lifted up the sheet. Becca looked at me
innocently, then shrugged.
“Can I keep you?” I asked.
“That depends . . .”
“I’ll sell Reid.”
“You don’t have to sell Reid.”
“Really, I don’t mind. He can go live in
Alaska for all I care, just tell me I can keep you. I want to freaking wrap you
up, put you in my pocket, and never let go. Don’t make me beg.”
“Yeah.” Becca laughed. “You can keep me,
but we may have to do something about the goat.”
Hades stomped and then promptly peed on
Becca’s dress.
“So naked art, huh?” She winked.
The Consequence of Loving Colton
It’s all fun and games…until someone’s
heart is broken.
They’re not kids anymore, but Milo Caro is
certain that Colton Mathews will only see her as his best friend’s little
sister for the rest of their lives. After all, he made that clear the night
before she left for college. But four years later, her brother is getting
married and Colt’s the best man—and guess who is the best man’s last-minute
date?
Milo vows to use the wedding to either
claim the smoldering firefighter’s heart or douse this torch for good. When
Max—her best friend from college, who may be carrying a torch of his
own—crashes the party, they devise a plan to make Colt see what he’s missing.
But after Colt catches on, he decides to cook up his own revenge.
Now it’s personal. Colt and Milo are at
war, and between Max’s questionable acting methods, an unfortunate trip to
jail, and a maniacal fiancée, what could possibly go right?
AMAZON: http://amzn.com/B00P9QJVSW
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