Waiting on Wednesday 8/27/14

Waiting on Wednesday

Hosted by Breaking the Spine

This week’s pre-publication “can’t wait to read” is:

Screwdrivered

(Cocktailed Book #3)

By  Alice Clayton

Publication Date: September 2, 2014

From Goodreads:

Readers back for a third round of the bestselling Cocktail series will enjoy a madcap romantic comedy about bodice ripping and chest heaving, fiery passion and love everlasting. Plus a dash of paperwork filing and horseshi—wait, what?

By day, Viv Franklin designs software programs. By night, Vivian’s a secret romance-novel junkie who longs for a knight in shining armor, or a cowboy on a wild stallion, or a strapping firefighter to sweep her off her feet. And she gets to wear the bodice—don’t forget the bodice.

When a phone call brings news that she’s inherited a beautiful old home in Mendocino, California from a long-forgotten aunt, she moves her entire life across the country to embark on what she sees as a great, romance-novel-worthy adventure. But romance novels always have a twist, don’t they?

There’s a cowboy, one that ignites her loins. Because Cowboy Hank is totally loin-ignition worthy. But there’s also a librarian, Clark Barrow. And he calls her Vivian. Can tweed jackets and elbow patches compete with chaps and spurs? You bet your sweet cow pie.

In Screwdrivered, Alice Clayton pits Superman against Clark in a hilarious and hot battle that delights a swooning Viv/Vivian.

Also within this book, an answer to the question of the ages: Why ride a cowboy when you can ride a librarian?

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Screwdrivered Teaser- Alice Clayton

 Screwdrivered Teaser
By Alice Clayton

 Release Date: September 2, 2014

“So what the hell did you call me for? Sounds like you’ve got it
all worked out already, Clark,” I said, rolling over on my back. “You sure that’s the only reason you called?”
It was silent on the other end of the phone. Except for the almost imperceptible sound of him taking a sip of what I assumed was Scotch. Water. Neat. An image rose in my mind: Clark, sit- ting low in a leather armchair, one hand on the phone, the other on his glass. Hair, un-parted and messy. Eyeglasses, abandoned for the evening next to a book on the side table. Jeans. White button- down, untucked and the top two buttons undone. Blue tie, loosened but not untied. A five o’clock shadow that had progressed to scruffy goodness.
I pulled my pillow from behind my head and covered my face to muffle my giggle. What in the world had gotten into me?
Then I heard him take a breath. Deep, prolonged, and al- most . . . shaky? Almost a . . . shudder?
My own breath? Caught. Held hostage by a librarian three thousand miles away who called me in the middle of the night to ask me about a bisected suit of armor.
I held so very tight to my pillow.
“You want to know if that’s the only reason I called, Vivian?” he asked finally, his voice octaves and octaves lower than Daytime Clark. Raspy, gruff, rough and tumble.
“Uh-huh?” I squeaked.
“That’s the only reason,” he said. “Have a good night. Sweet dreams.”
He hung up.
I buried my head into the pillow, kicking my legs into the air. Eventually, I slept.
But sweet dreams? Not in the slightest. Salty? Hell, yes.

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Alice Clayton Website

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Other Books in the Cocktail Series:

Wallbanger

Rusty Nailed