Reader's Edyn: Blitz: A Fast Woman (Driven Women #1) by Laralyn Doran + GIVEAWAY

**A Fast Woman by Laralyn Doran**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! I am thrilled to be able to share a new-to-me author with you all today. I love discovering authors and this is a fantastic way to get a glimpse into compatibility between a reader and author. So let’s go for it! Please allow me to introduce to the blog Laralyn Doran and her latest release, A FAST WOMAN … Plus, a GIVEAWAY!

**LARALYN DORAN**

**BIO**

Laralyn Doran is a multi-award winning writer of fun, contemporary romance and dark, urban fantasy romance. Her latest manuscript, "A Fast Woman" is an enemies-to-lovers racing romance, set to release in the fall of 2020 and will be the first in the "Driven Women" series. In 2019, "A Fast Woman" was awarded The Writer Award, given by the Land of Enchantment Romance Authors (LERA).

Laralyn is a proud special needs mom, and an autism and dyslexia awareness advocate.
She lives in Maryland and is a member of Romance Writers of America, Central Pennsylvania Romance Writers, Washington Romance Writers, and other affiliate chapters, where she met some amazing and supportive authors who have had the patience of saints and given her more than one kick in the backside.

To find out more about Ms. Doran, please visit:

**A FAST WOMAN**

Publication date: September 16, 2020

Series: Driven Women #1

Genres: Adult, Romance, Contemporary

**BLURB**

CJ Lomax

People called me a fast woman—not because I slept around—because I broke men’s hearts on the racetrack when I beat them.

While climbing up stock car’s highest level of racing, I learned three truths: Adrenaline was my drug of choice, wearing a pair of heels was a form of torture, and I didn’t have time for distractions—especially from men.

I had one goal—a Cup Series contract—and it was within my reach. Until Grady McBane cut me off—sending me, and my dreams, into a tailspin.

His damn smile, his charm, his talent… his touch. Damn hormones overrode my focus.

Grady McBane

The moment the beautiful, spitfire CJ Lomax tripped into my arms, it felt right.

Then Karma stepped in and laughed—Redeeming my reputation meant ruining her dream.

Even though I needed the contract to salvage my career, I found myself chasing her instead of racing her. Her focus, her sass, her grit…her passion. I wanted it—I want her.

Could we cross the finish line without wrecking each other’s hearts?

Strap in… it’s a hell of a ride.

**EXCERPT**

CJ returned with a piece of chocolate pie on her plate but pulled up short when she noted the solemnity of the table and everyone throwing furtive glances toward her.

“Is there something wrong with my pie?” It was the first time I heard her southern twang.

I studied her concerned expression before quickly digging my fork into the chocolate pie Andy put in front of me.

I wasn’t giving much thought to eating it, just doing it to ease her worry. But when the chocolate sweetness smoothly awakened my taste buds. I fell back in my chair, closed my eyes in bliss and groaned—loudly. “Oh my God…CJ.”

When I settled back down to Earth and focused on CJ, she resembled a virgin at a Magic Mike show. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyes as wide as saucers. The silence was thick among those at the table as their eyes bounced between us.

Sass tried valiantly to hold it in, but the laugh burst from him. Harper’s followed. Gus covertly studied CJ out of the corner of his eye and then glared at me.

What did I do?
Harper gave me a knowing smile—well, maybe the groan was a bit much.

“What?” I asked. “This pie is amazing!”

CJ seemed to have trouble swallowing.

“You okay over there, CJ?” Harper said. “Gus, you may want to give CJ some breathing room. I think it’s been awhile since she’s heard a man groan her name.”

If it were possible, I think CJ turned even more red. That was until she picked up the plate of pie as if she were going to throw it at Harper. Gus caught her arm and took the plate.

“Easy, killer,” Gus whispered. “No need to waste good pie.”

CJ—she actually began to smile. First at Harper, then Gus, and then at me. I was trapped. Her smile was everything. It transformed her and mesmerized me. Her face softened, her eyes brightened, her lips…God, her lips…

CJ’s body began to shake. She was laughing and it was as if the heavens opened.

It was beautiful.

I did that—even if it was unintentional. I made her laugh. It was the best rush I’d had in…awhile. It was better than when I opened up the engine and slingshotted through the first banked turn.

I wanted to do it again.

Harper and CJ had the entire table laughing. I joined in.

I felt at home with these people. I just met them yesterday, and already I was at home with them.

In all honesty, some of them would probably hate me by the end of the season—including the captivating, complex woman whose laugh I was fixated on.

But tonight, the cool, spring, lake weather in the dimming evening, surrounded by people who genuinely liked each other and who seemed like family—I wanted to be part of it.

Unable to sit, I began to pace the pit area with a headset, listening in on the conversation between Bill, Grady, and the spotter. My eyes were riveted to the screens as I watched Grady expertly maneuver the turns, increasing his speed through the straightaways and slowly gaining position throughout the course. I almost jumped over the wall when Dewey tapped him coming out of pit road in a dirty attempt to spin him out before regaining position.

He was definitely on Dewey’s shit list now for sticking up for me. That would make his life more complicated if he didn’t get Merrick’s contract.

When he didn’t get Merrick’s contract. Because I wanted Merrick’s contract. Then why was I cheering for him? Why did I want him to win—to succeed? Him winning this race, a race I’d struggled at, would not help achieve my goal.

Him winning would get in the way of fulfilling my dreams. But the thought of him losing dragged me down—especially if Dewey was the cause.

God, my head was a mess.

Just then, Grady’s voice came through, threatening Dewey’s manhood and I smiled.

I liked the guy. Not liked-liked. Just, I was rooting for the guy. And, fine. If I was willing to admit it, he was attractive and seemed like a pretty good egg. And he had a charming smile…his lips…his kiss…

I shook the thought out of my head.

But watching Dewey pursue him as if there were a target on his back made me want to run Dewey into the wall more than I ever had before.

An image of me as a cartoon character with steam coming out of my ears flashed across my mind.

By the end of the race, my nerves and my nails were a mess, but Grady finished eighth^, which was a damn good position out of forty-three cars—even sweeter was that Dewey finished at the back of the pack.

I ran to the finish, having to hold myself back from hugging him in my shared excitement. He climbed out of the car with a satisfied smile on his face, pride at his decent finish. He was immediately flanked by media and crew members. Someone handed him a Mingle Singles hat. I caught his slight grimace before he placed it on his head and then began scanning the crowd.

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my imagination—his smile grew as soon as he found me.

I was a besotted girl with a crush.

Oh, Lord. What is happening to me? A guy sweeps in and defends my honor and suddenly I’ve got hearts in my eyes. What the hell?

Unsure of my role in this situation, I held back with my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, and I glanced up at him under my lashes but gave him an involuntary smile.

What the hell was that? Was I flirting?

With his target locked on he strode toward me in slow, but purposeful, long strides, parting the sea of people. When he reached me, I straightened, more than a little aware of the cameras and the attention on the two of us.

He, however, didn’t give them even a glance.

The electricity increased with each inch he drew closer to me. I couldn’t be imagining this.

“So, how’d I do?” he asked, his voice low enough only I could hear.

I shrugged my shoulder, going for indifference. “Not bad. But maybe try to go a little faster and win next time?”

He threw back his head and laughed before hooking his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest, yanking on my ponytail like a big brother would. The cameras and media went crazy shouting questions. He ignored all of them and walked me over to the rest of the crew.

Warm fuzzies…warm fuzzies throughout my body. What the hell? I wanted to reach up and kiss him soundly in front of God and the entire country. Instead, I wrapped my arm around his six-pack waist. The gesture caught his attention and his side-eye gaze shifted into something different—something more intimate.

And that was the money shot the media ran with the next day.

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