WRECKED
BY PRISCILLA WEST
Available December 16, 2013
New Adult Contemporary Romance
A New Adult Romance Novel by USA
Today Bestselling Author Priscilla West
Two years ago, Lorrie’s mother
was murdered. But that wasn’t the end of it. Reeling from the tragedy, Lorrie’s
father spiraled into alcohol, depression, and finally suicide.
The two most important people in
Lorrie’s life are both gone but she’s still alive.
Trying to recover from the
tragedy, Lorrie returns to campus, ready to pick up the pieces of her life. All
Lorrie wants is to get back to “normal.”
Then she meets Hunter. The man,
the legend, “The Hammer.”
Hunter is a cage fighter who
takes on every fight like he’s got nothing to lose. His life is a tangled mess
of girls, booze, and fist fights. And while it may seem like he’s got a
devil-may-care attitude, he’s fighting a private cage-match with a monster he
can’t defeat.
Lorrie knows that Hunter is
exactly the type of guy she should stay away from, especially in her fragile
state, but Hunter has other ideas.
As Hunter and Lorrie grow closer
together, will they be able to overcome their pain and heal each other? Or will
they both end up wrecked?
GENRE: Mature New Adult Romance
(18+)
LENGTH: Novel, 350 pgs
RESCUED (WRECKED BOOK TWO: Coming Early 2014)
LENGTH: Novel, 350 pgs
RESCUED (WRECKED BOOK TWO: Coming Early 2014)
Excerpt
When I stepped into the
living room, my jaw dropped at the sight of him naked.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I
quickly turned away but not before the sight of him was seared into my memory.
Images of carved muscles and exotic tattoos danced across my mind.
“Wow, that was quick. I
thought you’d be in there longer.” I heard him laugh and the subsequent thud of
his drenched sweats being thrown into a corner hamper. “You can turn around.
I’m not naked, ya know. Unless you consider being shirtless as naked.”
I turned around and
noticed he had a white towel around his waist. His torso was still fully bare
though. Tattoos ran along the side of his chest and extended down his arm. They
were mostly a mix of tribal designs but one tattoo stood out for me. A picture
of a large hammer was boldly etched on his upper arm. An unwelcome desire
flittered in my stomach as I imagined running my fingertips over the inked
lines.
I wasn’t opposed to
seeing him shirtless at all. Not. At. All.
I forced myself to make
eye contact with him, but was surprised to find him not doing the same. His
eyes were wide, and they were roaming down and up my freshly showered body.
When his eyes finally
met mine, his lips curved wickedly. “You clean up well.”
My cheeks flushed.
“Thanks,” I replied, slightly uncomfortable. “I feel a lot better without all
that lake gunk on me. I really appreciate the clothes, although they might be a
little big for me.” I gestured to the jeans that were threatening to fall down
my hips.
He looked me over again,
dark eyes subtly lingering at certain parts: thighs, chest, lips. “No, you look
good—real good.” His hand gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll get you
some warm tea and a belt. I can get you back to your place after I wash up.”
He grabbed my wet
clothes from me and set them down on the kitchen counter while I took a seat on
his couch. I thought it’d be a relief to sit down and relax but I found myself
tense and restless, wondering who this guy was and what I’d gotten myself into
by agreeing to come to his place.
He went into the kitchen
and brought me a cup of tea. It smelled fragrant and spicy and the hot mug felt
good in my hands, calming my nerves temporarily. I sipped slowly, enjoying the
fluid warming up my chest as he went into his bedroom to search for a belt.
Moments later, he returned.
“Thank you so much,” I
said as he handed me the belt and sat down on the edge of the coffee table
inches away from me.
He, in his shirtless
glory, carefully watched me bring the cup of tea to my lips. I brought the edge
to my mouth but didn’t drink, too distracted by the desire to touch my lips
against the soft skin of those hard pecs right in front of me. I flicked my
gaze to his to avoid staring at his chest. The concerned way he studied me with
those dark irises matching the color of his damp hair was making me squirm in
my seat. Not to mention the peripheral view of that towel around his waist was
approaching scandalous. He didn’t cross his legs like I would if I were wearing
a skirt and I fought the urge to snag a glance down at that distinctly male
area. But it was hard to resist. Was this what it was like to be on the other
end of someone trying to cop a peek up your skirt?
“How’s the tea?”
His voice interrupted my
thoughts and I hurriedly swallowed a big gulp that burned my throat going down.
“Very good, thanks,” I choked. “I feel bad you had to go to so much trouble to
make it though. Sorry for being such a burden.”
“. . . Polite too.” He
grinned. “Don’t worry about it. It was no trouble at all.” His demeanor was
almost the opposite of what it had been at the lake—it was relaxed and warm
now. But then again so was mine. The feeling of almost dying must be wearing
off for both of us.
“Are you going to have
some yourself?” I asked, uncomfortable with how he was just sitting there.
Right there. Half naked in front of me with a ‘V’ shaped muscle around his
pelvis tempting my eyes to look down to where the slanted lines met. Wasn’t he
going to take his shower?
“Probably in a bit.”
Seeing him in no hurry
to leave, I wracked my brain for a conversation topic. “So . . .” I looked down
at the shirt I was wearing and pinched the lettering to try to end the silence.
“Are you in the Air Force?”
He paused for a second
longer than I was expecting. “No, I’m just a student. Senior, actually. You go
to school here too?”
I nodded. “Yeah,
sophomore.”
“Cool. So why did you
come to campus so early?”
“I thought it’d be good
to have some time by myself to prepare for the semester. You know, mentally
prepare and all that.”
He nodded. “Alone time,
yeah. Helps to work things out on your own sometimes. People can be stressful,
especially at this school where people like to gossip. I swear it’s like every student’s
minor here.”
I wondered if his
comment was specifically directed toward me and my circumstances. Did he know
who I was and my reputation? “Yeah, I’m not too interested in rumors. They’re
often wrong anyway.” I shifted my legs and happened to briefly brush against
his. I felt my nipples tighten from the unintentional intimate contact.
His eyes narrowed and he
glanced at the offending leg. He looked at me for a while, apparently deep in
thought. When his eyes glanced down at my chest, I saw an intense flicker in
those dark irises—or was it a spark? “Haven’t met anyone here who doesn’t like
gossip,” he said smoothly. “You do know you’re at Arrowhart right? Gossip is
big here. It’s only normal that you’d be interested.”
“Yeah, I know,” I
replied. And boy did I know. “But maybe I’m not normal.”
The smile he gave had an
edge to it that made me uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. “I’d say so
as well. Seeing imaginary cats and falling into frozen lakes isn’t exactly
normal,” he teased, before his voice lowered intimately. “But then again,
normal’s boring.”
A heated ache moved
through me. Was it my imagination or was he flirting with me? It didn’t seem
like he realized who I was. I noticed again how unusually neat the place was.
Did he have a girlfriend that cleaned for him? Or his mom? “So do you live here
by yourself?” My voice came out huskier than I intended and I cleared my
throat, hoping he didn’t notice.
He smiled. “Yeah, I get
plenty of alone time here.”
I found that difficult
to believe given his devilish good-looks. It would be easier for me to believe
if he’d said he had a ticket system for girls lining up outside his apartment
door. Maybe even a BYOC policy—Bring Your Own Condom. That could explain the
contents of his bathroom trash.
I forced another gulp
down my throat, uncomfortable with how being so near him made me restless.
“What do you like to do in your alone time?”
“In my alone time?” He
cocked a brow and looked at me with curiosity.
I glanced at his
sculpted chest because I couldn’t help myself. “Yeah, like when no one’s
around, just in private.” I was thinking about how I liked to mope and draw in
my alone time and was hoping to find common ground between us. He probably
didn’t sit on icy bridges in his alone time but maybe he did something
relatable so I could convince him I wasn’t just some depressed girl trying to
kill herself.
A glint in his eye, his
grin widened. “What do I like to do in my alone time?” he repeated,
suggestively. “Oh, just the usual stuff guys do when they’re by themselves. You
know, normal stuff.”
Oh no. Was I flirting with him? I’d unintentionally said
something that could’ve been interpreted as a reference to his masturbation
routine. God, how awkward. This was not my lucky day. I glanced at his
towel and noticed a towering bulge that hadn’t been there before. My face
flushed. Shit, did I do that?
About
the Author
Priscilla West is the author of the popular
Surrender series. Her next release titled: Wrecked will be available on
December 16th. She likes to write stories with sassy heroines and strong but
flawed heroes.
She enjoys: cuddles, men in suits, eskimo
kisses, life-sized teddy bears, and eggs over medium.
You can find her at priscillawest.com
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