Extended Excerpt with author Nana Malone
What’s up everyone? Back with the catch up craze today. And another post to change things up a bit. Today I have for you an extended excerpt with author Nana Malone from her release SULTRY IN STILETTOS. Nice title, yes? I thought so. And guess what? Ms. Malone has a tour wide giveaway going on so be sure to read to the very end of the post for the details on how to enter. Who doesn’t love to enter for freebies from authors??? EXACTLY!!!!!! So kick back, grab a hot cup of tea or coffee because it is dang cold out there tonight, and let’s find out more about this great book. Please allow me to introduce to the blog:
**NANA MALONE**
**BIO**
Nana's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin. It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is. Though, until that ninja job comes through, you'll find her acting out scenes for hubby, baby and puppy while catching up on her favorite reality television shows in sunny San Diego.
You can find out more about Ms. Malone in the following places:
**SULTRY IN STILETTOS**
**The Stilettos Series**
**BLURB**
Shy, Fantasy Event Planner, Ricca Munroe has never been lucky in love, so when the latest in a long line of Mr. Oh So Wrongs publicly dumps her, she focuses on her career. All she has to do to land the job of a lifetime is work side-by-side with the one man who can break her heart.
Beckett Mills has never been in love. Personal entanglements are a recipe for disaster—that is until one kiss from Ricca Munroe changes everything. Beckett needs this job to fulfill a promise he made. All he has to do is resist the seductive charms of his best friend.
Can Ricca come out of her shell to land her dream job and the love of her life? Can Beckett trust himself enough to actually fall in love and still keep the promise he made?
Warning: Sexy, sass talking women will make you laugh, cry and want a pair of killer footwear.
BUY LINKS:
**EXTENDED EXCERPT**
(adult content)
After the day from hell, Ricca sat on Micha’s orange, shag carpet and blinked at the glass of amber liquid Micha placed in front of her. "What is that?"
Micha shook her head. "You don’t want to know. Just drink it. You'll feel better."
Ricca eyed the glass dubiously, then grabbed it and chugged its contents. The liquid flowed down her throat and warmed her stomach. It only took a moment before she felt the lancing burn spread through her gut.
"Holy shit.” She sputtered and coughed. “What the fuck, Micha?"
Micha gave her a satisfied nod. "Kentucky bourbon. Good for a broken heart, a pissed off girlfriend, or plotting to kill your co-workers." She pointed at the label. “It says so right here.”
"But I don’t have a broken heart."
Jaya gave her a soft smile and patted her knee. "I think the bourbon works for being pissed off at an asshole ex too." She sniffed her own glass but put it down on the coffee table before taking a drink.
Ricca glanced down at her glass. Jaya had a point. Feeling almost uncomfortably hot, she slipped off her double layers of cardigans. "Hit me again."
Micha grinned as she cocked her head, her silky spirals spilling over her shoulder. She poured Ricca another glass then sat across from her. "Okay. You ready to talk?"
Ricca shrugged. "You guys already know what happened."
Jaya squeezed her knee again. "Ricca, all you said in your email was ‘Charles and I broke up. Talk when you get back.’ Then you didn’t answer my emails or calls."
Micha nodded in agreement. “Talk about cryptic. Then Beckett is the one who calls us to check on you tonight. What gives?”
Ricca drank this round a little slower. She’d just gotten her couch reupholstered and didn’t need bourbon spittle on it. "Shit, I'd love to understand it. Charles dumped me at the Gala."
Jaya sat up, her brows furrowing. “Wait, what? Ricca, why didn’t you say anything? That was over a week ago.”
Ricca squirmed under their scrutiny. “Look, at the time, you had just gotten engaged. I think, perhaps, you were getting engaged as I was being broken up with. And, Micha, you were schmoozing the Mayor, and Beckett came over and was distracted about some girl or another, and then we all dispersed for the holiday.” She shrugged. “This is the first night we’re getting to sit down and talk.”
Micha narrowed her eyes. “I told you to dump that ass-wipe before the holidays.”
Ricca nodded. “Yeah, I know. You were right.”
Micha nodded ruefully. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
Ricca had to chuckle. "Extremely." The warmth in her belly started to spread to her extremities. "God, it’s like he wanted to embarrass me. He told me I was too clingy, that I wasn’t fun, and that I didn’t dress well.“
“Clearly he’s a moron,” Micha said.
Jaya tipped her head. "So what are you going to do?"
For the first time that day, Ricca felt like laughing. "Yeah, I might have intimated that I planned to find the fucker and torch his car."
Both Micha and Jaya stared at her, their mouths agape. Then Micha laughed. "I'm glad to see I’m rubbing off."
Ricca shrugged. "You guys honestly don’t have to worry about me and the break up. I’m fine. Mostly.” She shrugged. “And as for the job, it seems that Serena wants me to work with the mean girls. Just been a rough couple of weeks.”
“You should have called us, kid,” Micha grumbled.
Jaya studied her with big brown eyes. "Ricca, are you sure you're okay?"
"You guys, honestly, I’ll be fine. I'm just a little sad to have been stuck with the loser for so long then to have him dump me with some bullshit excuse about how I’m too clingy and I clearly want marriage." She scoffed. She finished the contents of her glass, then stuck it out to Micha, who poured another two fingers. In that moment, Ricca made the conscious decision not to tell her friends about Beckett. The situation was already complicated enough. And she didn’t need them mother-henning her. She could take care of herself.
Several hours later, Ricca woke to cottonmouth and the urge to pee. Sitting up, she peered at her surroundings. Shit. She’d gotten drunk, Micha and Jaya had brought her home and they'd left her on the couch to sleep it off. Perfect. Humiliation complete. Just what she needed. Swinging her legs off the micro-suede cushions, she padded into the bathroom. After using the bathroom, she washed her face and stared at herself in the mirror. Yesterday had been a shit day. It was up to her to make today better.
First order of business—no more Mrs. Nice Guy to the Bitch Brigade. They only treated her the way they did because she allowed it. It paid to be nice, but it didn’t pay to have anyone walk all over you. She dimmed the light when the vein above her eye started to throb. There. That's better. She quickly brushed her teeth to get the shame and bourbon cocktail out of her mouth.
Next order of business, NEVER drink Kentucky bourbon again. She was nowhere near sober yet, and she already felt like she'd been kicked in the teeth. Oh wait, that's right, that was her day, not her lack of tolerance for alcohol.
And finally, no more letting people get away with murder—starting with Beckett Mills. He’d been the one to kiss her the other night. He’d been the one with his hands on her ass. Not the other way around. But somehow, she'd let him off the hook and blubbered around him yesterday. If she wanted them back on normal footing, she needed to actually talk to him. Not stutter like some lovesick school girl whose crush had been revealed via Twitter.
He had no business kissing her. Matter of fact, she was going to tell him that—first thing in the morning. Except, he was always late, and sure as shit, she wasn't having a conversation like that with him at work. And she wasn’t waiting until the end of day tomorrow. Because she knew herself. She was all bravado now, but when the rest of the alcohol wore off, she’d be too mortified to give him a piece of her mind. Might as well do it now. Never mind the time—what the hell time was it? The digital clock on her cable box blinked 2:30 AM. Whatever.
He’d sent her a million texts at this time of night, erm, morning. And like an idiot she’d tolerated it. He'd bragged about his exploits. He’d way over-shared. Well, tonight, he was going to get woken up.
She grabbed her keys and looked down at them. No way in hell she could drive. Swaying on her feet a little, she put her keys down—definitely still too drunk to drive. Annoyed, she snatched her phone off the coffee table and texted BC Cab Company. They specialized in late night pick-ups around the city. The girls had started calling them booty call cab. Which was accurate in so many ways.
The pickup text arrived within five minutes. As she stumbled out of the door, the rational, fearful part of her wondered if this could have waited till morning. Beckett always hit the beach or the pool depending on the waves. She could wait and meet him there.
No. Don’t be a chicken shit. They were having this talk.
The cab ride took exactly seven minutes from her place on Robinson back down toward his place on Park. Handy. She leaned over to talk to the cabbie and nearly smacked her head on the grate that separated the compartments. "Um, do you mind waiting?"
The pixie-haired female cabbie raised an eyebrow. "Sure. But the meter's running."
Fine by her. She'd make Beckett pay for it later. This was all his fault anyway. If he hadn't kissed her, everything would have been fine. Then she wouldn't have been so mad about being dumped. She'd be safely ensconced in her apartment, listening to Tracy Chapman and eating a tub full of ice-cream, wallowing. Instead, she was mad.
Ricca typed in the key code and swung the door open. As she knocked on Beckett’s door, the doubts started to creep in. What the hell was she doing? Was she insane? Maybe just a little.
"Too late now," she muttered and knocked.
It took two minutes for him to come to the door, and when he did, he blinked. His expression morphed from an angry frown into confusion. "Ricca? What’s the matter? What are you doing here?"
She pushed past him and entered, praying he was alone. He had pajama bottoms on, so that was a good sign. Though he was standing there shirtless, and his broad shoulders and chiseled abs made her forget what she wanted to say.
"Ricca, are you okay? You’re freaking me out."
"I'm fine,” she mumbled as she tilted to the left.
Beckett sniffed and narrowed his gaze. "How did you get here? You didn't drive, did you?”
She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her stomach rolled, and she was a little terrified the contents would make an appearance. She cursed the bourbon gods again. Why did alcohol make it seem like it made you invincible? At best, she felt shaky on her feet.
“Nope. I’m drunk. But a responsible drunk,” she slurred. Responsible had come out sounding like reshponshible
"Why don’t you sit down?” He put a hand on her arm, trying to lead her to his couch.
Ricca shrugged him off. "No. I'm not sitting down. I just want you to answer one question for me."
"Uhm, okay, what is it?"
"Why did you really kiss me?"
His expletive broke the silence between them. He ran his hands through his hair. "Shit, Ricca, I kno—"
"No. You don't. You shouldn’t have done that. And I let you get away with it this afternoon, and I shouldn't have. I was so confused. Turned on. Confused. Mad. Why did you do that?" Shit had she just said turned on?
"Fuck. I'm sorry. I just—" Beckett started.
"Just tell me, and I’ll go. I'll go and forget this ever happened. Why would you kiss me like that?" She placed a hand on his bare chest and instantly felt the pull in her core. The light dusting of hair on his chest distracted her as she reveled in the softness of it. “You used t-tongue. That was against the rules. Like you wanted to turn me on. Why?”
"Because..."
"You can’t just waltz in and give me the Mills treatment. I'm not one of your hoards. I'm your friend. You text me when you’re having a bad day, when your horrid brother gives you shit. When you have a shitty date or you've got a stage nine clinger. Now you ruined that. Hell, I'm not even your type."
"Ricca."
“Not good enough, Beckett.”
Beckett started to pace. Ricca stared at him. All she needed was an answer, and she’d go home. Then she’d forget Beckett Mills. Even the fantasies? A little panicked voice from her subconscious nagged.
No, definitely not. She’d still have her fantasies, but no real world stuff. Way too sticky.
“Ricca, I don’t have any answers for you. Truth is, it just happened. It shouldn’t have, but it did. You said we’d be okay.”
She frowned. “I think I lied.” Tears pricked her lids. She blinked at him through the salty liquid. "Beckett." Her stomach rolled, then clenched as if someone had just kicked her in the gut. She straightened. “Oh no.” Her stomach clenched once, then again. Before she knew it, vomit and bile made an appearance at Beckett’s feet.
So what did you think? Have you read Nana Malone before? Are you likely to read this book or series? What did you think of the extended excerpt? Will you be entering the giveaway? *wink* Of course you will so how about I tell you about it now?
**GIVEAWAY**
Hurry! There are only a couple of days left on this tour so do NOT delay! Enter now!
I want to thank everyone for stopping in and spending some time with us today. I hope you enjoyed everything you read. And I wish all of those who enter best of luck in the contest. Don’t forget to support this author and buy the book if you like what you read. Have a wonderful day! And until next time …
HAPPY READING!!!
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