RELEASE DAY APRIL 5th, 2016
Publisher: Skyscape (April 5, 2016)
Publication Date: April 5, 2016
SYNOPSIS:
Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.
After a
career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and
he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen,
Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his
extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson
requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless
client yet.
From her
frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to
need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional
matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and
a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins
the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of
breaking his cardinal rule…
BUY LINKS:
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1V6UCs6
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1QS5BTc
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1MipuP3
REVIEW - 4.5 Stars
If there is one thing I can count on in Rachel Van Dyken’s books, it’s
that they will always make me smile and giggle! Even if it’s only a few times,
but in this book I laughed a lot. I also melted, wanted to whack Ian upside the
head, and even had moments where my heart broke a little. There is always a
wealth of emotion in anything RVD writes. Also, I adore books written from the
male POV and let me tell you, this one has to be, or you’d never learn to love
Ian. And what a shame that would be!
I had only one issue with this book and it’s a small one, so let’s
get it out of the way. Ian is a man-whore, we know this, HE knows this. And,
even Ian knows it tarnishes him as a person, but as a single, carefree guy, he
doesn’t care. I accept these things about him. However, I prefer for a book to
begin without actually experiencing his man-whorish ways. It’s only a couple of
times and for the most part, implied, but I could have done without them. He
does let go of all that the minute he realizes he likes Blake though.
That’s it. Everything else about this book was 5 stars all the way.
In fact, I really loved the author’s choice to create a character who is so
much more realistic. Blake is the athletic girl we all knew growing up. The one
who lives in gym clothes (unfortunately, Blake chose the baggy, guy-type
clothes (The basketball shorts and 90’s flip-flops….*shudder*). Sometimes,
underneath was a girly-girl who didn’t know how to emerge. Such is the case
with Blake. Her character is strong and, for the most part, knows who she is,
with the exception of her love life (or lack thereof). She straddles the line
between being lost and confident, and the author does a great job of balancing
them. I liked her, I wanted to befriend her and honestly, I wanted to be the
one giving her a makeover!
Ian was a contradiction in and of himself. Almost a Jekyll and Hyde,
whiplash personality. It’s never easy to change, especially considering how
drastic the change is for Ian. In a lot of books, I don’t start to like the
hero until he stops being a dick, but once again, this author shows her incredible
story-telling ability by creating a character I should detest, but find I don’t.
Her use of humor has a lot to do with it. Ian is funny, his inner dialogue is
so arrogant, but at the same time, it’s really quite justified. So, it’s hard
to fault him. Not to mention, his playbook works, so you can’t really blame him
for his attitude. Plus, he’s not stupid and he knows how hot he is, which could
be a real turnoff, but somehow Ian makes it work and I still love him.
Ian definitely has major vulnerabilities and in my opinion, it was
vital for this book to be in his POV. Without those, I would have only seen
glimpses and I needed to see the full picture. Ian and Blake are a great match
and have sizzling chemistry. I truly enjoyed going on this journey with them.
The secondary characters in this book are a riot. Ian’s two best
friends, his business partner and roommate, Lex and his “like a sister” best friend,
Gabi, have a hate/hate relationship and their squabbles definitely brought on
my giggles. Although, I think it’s more of a hate/love/hate relationship. Their
story is next and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a little heavier, Lex seems
to be a great deal more damaged than Ian. However, I’m always anxious to read
the next RVD book, and I’m excited to continue the series with these
characters!
Another touchdown for Rachel Van Dyken! 4.5 Stars!
1. Jealousy is key when trying to get
noticed by a dude. No girl ever got her guy by hanging out by the potted plants
or doing the dishes in the kitchen.
2. Smile. Often. Smiling makes
dickheads automatically assume you've got a secret--and damn, do guys love
discovering secrets.
3. Never call. Always text.
4. If he calls you, answer on the third
ring, but only after he's called you three times.
5. The rule of three pertains to every
situation, answering in person, the length of time you touch a body part
(unless it’s down below, but you shouldn't be doing that at this point unless
you're a psycho), the length of time you take to answer the door, the point is
this, you have to pause, breathe, stare, and then answer. If you're doing it
any other way. You're doing it wrong.
6. I don't care if he's serenading you
with Taylor Swift and it’s just like absolutely OMGEE your most favorite song,
holy shit he brought coke zero? I LOVE COKE ZERO. No. Hell no. You don't cave.
It’s been one day. You do not cave on day one. On day one. You plan.
7. You are NEVER to be so interested in
them right off the bat that you're willing to cancel plans, according to them,
you're always busy damn it, why can't they just catch a break?
8. Walk away, never toward. I don't
give a flying shit that he's wearing your favorite shirt and holding a monkey
on his head, smile, wave, walk the other way. The only time you walk toward is
if the douche needs medical attention and even then...if he's gonna live, so
will you.
9. It’s not about you. I know, I know,
you're just so pissed about Shelly and how she gave you a bitchy look during
chem, but control yourself. It’s about him, ask him questions, in return, he
will ask you. This. Is. Called. A. Conversation.
10. Put your damn phone away. When
you're in his space, you aren't on Facebook or tweeting about it, this is how
you lose his attention and gain another cat. Toss the cell phone away or Wingmen
Inc will very politely shove it up your ass.
If the first ten rules are too
difficult for you to comprehend, you probably aren't the client for
us...because quite honestly...there are forty more, no chance in hell you'll
get through them if you're already scowling. Buh-Bye.
Blake let out
another pitiful groan. “I don’t think it fits.”
“They measured
you. It fits. Just, tell me if it looks okay so we can go.” I checked my watch.
“Gabi said dinner was at six, and it’s already a quarter till.”
“This is too
much pressure.” Her voice was frantic. “I can’t do this. I mean, how do I know
if it looks good? They’re boobs.”
I groaned.
“Boobs always look good. Believe me.”
“Boobs are
gross!”
Said no man
ever. Even the gay ones.
One of the salesladies
eyed me up and down. “Are you two okay?”
“Great,” I
chirped. “Just having a very heated discussion about the beauty of breasts.” I
dipped my chin to Blake’s chest. “What are you? A double D?”
Scowling, she
marched off.
Thank God.
“Blake,” I hissed.
No answer.
I’d never had
such a difficult client. If anything, they jumped when I told them to, asked
how high, and then kept jumping until I was satisfied. Blake fought me at every
turn.
“Open the door
before I crawl underneath it. I’ll pick the bras, you can close your eyes if
you want so you don’t have to watch me look at you, alright? My stomach
literally just ate my liver. I need protein. Open. The. Door.”
The door slowly
creaked open. Taking advantage of the small crack of air, I pushed it farther,
then clicked it shut behind me and turned around.
Blake was
facing me, hands on hips, face beet-red, body . . . freaking
perfect. My tongue almost lolled out, like a dog.
Most girls
starve themselves to have abs like that, which was disgusting. But her abs?
They had muscle, actual muscle, but still appeared feminine.
She also had
a nice tan, just enough to show that she spent time outside or maybe just
had naturally darker skin.
My throat went
completely dry as I continued to stare.
“Well?” Her
voice was weak. “How awful do I look? On a scale of one to ten?”
I’d convinced
her to buy some new workout clothes to replace her old ones. I knew I’d never
get her to actually completely change her style. She liked workout clothes?
Fine, at least buy the kind that fit and actually point to the correct gender.
I tried to steer her away from the boyfriend sweats and sweatshirts, but she
eventually wore me down, so I told her if she bought at least five
new Pink outfits that had spandex in them, I’d let her get one pair of
ugly slouchy sweats. You’d think I’d just given her a million dollars, from her
reaction.
Currently, she
was sporting a short pair of bright-blue yoga shorts.
And a black
push-up sports bra that did wonders for her boobs.
And the world
just in general.
Holy shit.
I gulped as I
became more and more irritated with the fact that my body was reacting as if it
had never seen a girl without her shirt on before. “Blake, it’s great.”
“You sound
bored!”
I had to, damn
it! What did she want me to do? Sound interested? Turned-on? Intrigued?
Curious? I was all those things. I just tried to ignorethe insanity bouncing
around in my head and blurted, “Your boobs look really good. Perky, happy,
just . . . awesome.”
Did I just call
her boobs “happy”?
“You think?”
She stared down at her breasts, then grabbed them.
Holy shit, was
she seriously feeling herself up? I braced my hand against the door and sucked
in a breath.
“They still
feel comfortable,” she said.
“Do they?” I
managed to choke out while she continued bouncing them a bit in her hands. Dear
Lord, did she know what she was doing? Waving a flag in front of a bull. My
jeans suddenly tight in all the wrong areas, I tried to envision Lex naked,
anything to get my dick to clue in to the word “client,” meaning I was in a
no-play zone.
Another first.
It was because
I was hungry.
And Marissa?
Melissa? Hadn’t satisfied me. I’d gotten off, and made sure she did too, but
the entire experience left me feeling empty, bored, and—if I was being
completely honest? A bit depressed. Besides, her tits paled in comparison. I
had to wonder what the hell I’d been doing all my life if this was the first
time I was having such a strong reaction to boobs.
Something about
Blake had me wondering if I’d been satisfied at all up until this point. And I
had no idea what the hell was so confusing about her, and about the situation.
I was unable to put my finger on it, and the more I thought about it the more
my head hurt.
Hunger does
weird things to guys.
“Yeah.” More
bouncing, then turning and staring in the mirror. I wasn’t sure what was worse.
Her staring at her own boobs or touching them. “I’m just no good at this stuff.
I didn’t grow up with a mom, and I hit puberty really early. The girls made fun
of me, and the boys pointed.” Her shoulders slumped inward again.
Could we please
go back to the bouncing? I was a fan of that Blake. The one that rolled up like
an awkward armadillo? Not so much.
ABOUT RACHEL
VAN DYKEN
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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