#MFRWHooks:
“Guess it ain’t no Match.com…”
every week, Marketing for Romance Writers hosts BOOK HOOKS, where authors can share teasers to hype up interest in their work, whether published or upcoming (check out their blog link below for more info).
this week, i’m sharing an excerpt from my debut romance novella, JAILBAIT, in which Ryder (who’s serving time for assaulting his sister’s abusive boyfriend) gets hooked on Em (who’s visiting a very similar ex-boyfriend at the prison) at first sight. here’s hoping you feel the love, too.
[excerpt rated R for language]
…
“I need a goddamn beer.”
“Forget that, you’re gonna need a goddamn forty.”
“Won’t say no to that.” Ryder sucks at his thumbnail. It’s Reese’s turn to kick him.
“Don’t do that, it’s gross.”
“Don’t got a whole lotta occasion for manners lately.” He pinches it between his teeth another second, then drops his hands to the table. It’s sticky, like somebody spilled a soda from the vending machines. Probably one of Kip’s kids, guy’s always talking about how clumsy his toddler is.
Ryder rubs the pad of his thumb over the film. Ain’t no worse than the bartops he wiped down at the family brewpub. Can’t believe he misses that shit.
“Everybody doing okay?”
“Better than you.” Reese snaps her fuckin’ gum again. Ryder’s about one more bubble away from staying in his cell next time she comes by, but —
But he looks up, and a whole lotta blonde catches in the corner of his eye.
About pulls a muscle to catch the rest of her, some girl pacing in the hall outside the visitor’s room. Not a girl like a kid, though Ryder would bet he’s got ten years on her, minimum. Usually he likes a woman who’s rented a car a time or two but, hey, too early to know for sure.
Seems like she could walk wherever she needs to go, anyhow, way she’s pacing. She’s back and forth in front of the Pepsi machine, like she can’t decide where she’s going or if she should bother going there at all.
Sure as hell her hair’s blonde, thick highlights and dark roots, scraped back in a pile on top of her head. Black sweater’s cropped, but her jeans are cut high enough he can’t catch so much as a sliver of midriff. Fuckin’ bummer.
Ain’t just eight months in the hole talking, neither. Girl could’ve breezed past him in church and he’d still want a better look at her.
“What are you — oh my God,” Reese says when she cottons on. “Sixteen months to go, dude, dream on.”
“Might be a better incentive than the forty.” Definitely a better incentive. “She on the bus with you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t talk to her.”
Ryder snorts at his sister, but doesn’t spare her a look. Too busy craning his neck to see what else this girl’s got going on. There’s a string of beads around her neck, looks a little like it might be a rosary. Holes in her jeans like she bought ‘em that way. A hole in the hem of her sweater like it’s just plain old.
Ryder can’t say he’s ever been much for love at first sight, but he’s willing to reconsider. He’s definitely, at the very least, obsessed with her ass.
“Didn’t you get some Girl Scout badge for makin’ friends? Shit, Reese, do a guy a favor.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Hell yeah I have.”
…
