We have your first look at THE BACHELOR AUCTION releasing on October 4 and we can guarantee, you do not want to miss the first book in this brand new series from Rachel Van Dyken!
Cinderella never had to deal with this crap.
Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a
raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start but didn’t she eventually land a prince
and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding,
entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in
sight. That is, until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering
if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. A
prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder.
Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if that is just a façade. Now, as Brock is
waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that
he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while he and Jane may
not get a fairy tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy
. . .
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Excerpt
Thick wavy auburn hair fell in
disarray over his forehead. It was lush, shiny, perfect. Were guys born with
hair like that? Or was his somehow chemically engineered? His full lips pressed
together in a secret smile as the equally handsome man next to him said
something, then erupted in laughter.
The first man stiffened, then shook
his head. His broad shoulders seemed to grow tight as a drum. A slight tic in
his jaw was the only clue that he was irritated or maybe outright angry.
And then his shoulders slumped as he
was handed another drink and then another.
Nervous. He must be nervous. But
what could a man like that possibly have to be nervous about?
He easily towered over most of the
men in attendance. Suddenly his posture changed, then he smiled.
Jane felt her mouth drop open in
shock.
Dazzling.
He was…like a duke or a lord or a
prince from a storybook. Clearly, she read too many romance novels, but his
entire presence demanded attention; screamed authority, importance, and sex.
Lots and lots of sex.
Yes, his virility was a tangible
thing, as if she could reach out and grasp it with her fingertips.
“What are you doing?” Esmeralda
yelled in her right ear, interrupting her blatant sexual fantasy about a
complete stranger. Great. That’s what her life had come to. And sadly? It was
the most fun she’d had all night.
Jane turned to Esmeralda, prayed for
patience, and answered. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“You’re so boring.” Esmeralda rolled
her eyes. “No wonder you got dumped.”
Another fun fact? Esmeralda was mean
when she was drunk.
The reminder of the breakup burned
like acid.
It had been a year ago, not that it
mattered. It still hurt that the last guy she’d dated had told her that
although she was cute, she wasn’t really doing it for him anymore.
Right. Doing it.
Maybe that was because she hadn’t
done anything for him or with him,
and he found that lacking. But they’d only dated for a few weeks. Did normal
girls do that? Put out after a few weeks? Apparently.
She wasn’t normal.
But if that was normal, maybe she
was better off being strange.
“Jane, are you even listening to
me?” Esmeralda whined. “Essence needs you to dance next to her for a bit. I’m
tired and tipsy. I want to sit. Plus your dress blends in enough that it won’t
take attention away from her.”
No way. What? What had she just
said?
Jane wrapped her arms around her
middle. “I’m sorry, what?”
Without warning, Esmeralda grabbed
Jane’s hand and jerked her toward the dance floor, causing Jane to lose her
footing and crash directly into Esmeralda’s back. Then, like a domino, she
slammed back into Essence.
Jane opened her mouth to shout out
an apology, but Esmeralda was already too drunk to listen to reason. With
determination in her eyes, she reached for the pearls at Jane’s neck but
grabbed the fabric of the dress instead.
Her poorly sewn dress ripped instantly,
causing the fabric to slink past her strapless bra. A diagonal slit split up
her thigh almost all the way to her hip. In an effort to cover herself, she
took a step and tripped, thanks to her clunky shoes.
And then she fell to the floor.
Hard.
Her sisters watched in horror—but
neither of them offered a hand. They were probably kicking themselves for
forcing her to come. Esmeralda leaned over but missed Jane’s shoulder by a
mile, grabbing her hair and giving it a tug, which only made Jane wince harder.
Both sisters were completely tanked.
And she was less than two minutes
away from being trampled by the other sweaty bodies around her.
She glanced up.
And into the eyes of the man she’d
just been lusting after.
Oh God, the humiliation was complete.
That one glance told her he’d seen
it all. She swallowed back the thickness building in her throat. Of course the
only time he’d notice her would be when she’d ripped her dress and nearly took
out a few guests on her way down to the dance floor.
The crowd gathered around her.
And the sexy man disappeared—probably
off in search of a girl with perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect clothes.
She really should have stayed home.
Tears filled her eyes as a heel
pressed into her right hand. With a jerk she tugged her hand free, struggling
to get up to stand on her wobbly feet, when suddenly she was pulled to a
standing position and then swept up in strong arms.
Jane’s eyes were still so blurry
from unshed tears she couldn’t make out the man’s face as he carried her out of
the crowd.
He smelled like heaven.
She fought the insane urge to press
her face against his chest and just…close her eyes.
Because he felt safe.
Pathetic, when a stranger’s arms
provided more safety than her own family. And yet he felt…right.
In a world where things for the past
ten years had felt so wrong.
He felt right.
About the Author
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, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! Want to be kept up to date on new releases?
Text MAFIA to 66866! You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
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