This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a digital copy of An Accidental Gentleman to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
,br> Kit Runyon isn’t looking for a man to keep—she’s happy with the occasional one-night stand and no strings. Making sure her family’s electronics repair shop is profitable enough to support three generations is her main focus. But when Brian Hendricks walks into the store, one look, one word, and she knows he’s not wired like any man she’s ever met before . . .
Brian’s attracted to Kit’s strength and no-nonsense attitude, but he’s tired of the one-and-done dating scene. He’s ready to settle down with the right woman, even if that means he’ll have to play things slow and stay out of her bed to show her there’s more to love than just mind-blowing sex. But at this rate he’s liable to short all the circuits . . .
Enjoy an Excerpt:
Brian drummed the steering wheel, half in time with the radio pumping out classic rock, half in annoyance at the truck ahead.
Racks of shiny diamond-tread toolboxes rode the bed rails above a pristine white body. Early June sun meant good things for the fields of patchy green blobs slipping past in neat rows. Near-sunset glare off the truck meant less-good conditions for his eyes. Shouldn’t have stayed late to finish the terrain analysis and forgotten his sunglasses at his desk. He flipped the visor down.
They cruised along at the speed limit, courtesy of the work truck’s driver. Dead-on, not even the nickel above everyone did. Good thing the delivery menus plastered on his fridge wouldn’t complain when he walked in late on a Thursday night.
Eight-inch-high black letters taunted him from the tailgate. You break it, we’ll take it.
Towing company, maybe, but the back lacked a winch or a hoist or—
The tail-end bounced. The back tire uncoiled. Pop-thud-smack.
As thick rubber flapped and flew, he jerked the car hard right. “Motherf—”
Streaking past the driver’s side in chunks, the tire missed the windshield by inches. The burnt rubber stench invaded his coupe via the open window. Close enough to singe a cat’s whiskers, Christ.
The truck wobbled but recovered, coasting in a straight line without the knee-jerk flash of brake lights. Good man behind the wheel to keep a steady hand in a blowout.
Matching the driver’s gradual slowdown, he tamed his roaring pulse and coasted his coupe onto the gravel shoulder. No traffic in the rearview, but he snapped on the flashers for good measure. Light bounced off the truck’s tailgate deco.
Might as well help the guy get back on the road.
The pickup driver shoved open his door. Hefty dude with a beer gut descending in three, two—
A tanned beauty hopped out of the cab, raised her hand across her brows, and stared toward him.
About the Author: M.Q. Barber likes to get lost in thought. She writes things down so she can find herself again. Often found staring off into space or frantically scratching words on sticky notes, M.Q. lives with one very tolerant, easily amused husband and one very tolerant, easily amused puppy. She has a soft spot for romances that explore the inner workings of the heart and mind alongside all that steamy physical exertion. She loves memorable characters, witty banter, and heartfelt emotion in any genre. The former Midwestern gal is the author of the Neighborly Affection contemporary romance series. Pick a safeword, grab a partner or two, and jump in.
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