Snippet Saturday ~ Humor
Welcome to another Snippet Saturday! Today's theme is 'Humor'. Check out my excerpt from the beginning of my upcoming book Negligee Behavior, and then surf the links below!
When lingerie heiress Brandy Summer gets cold feet and runs out on her Vegas wedding, she has nowhere to turn—so she hijacks a hunky biker waiting for a red light and begs him for help. What she doesn't know is that her instincts are right: the groom has a hidden agenda. He needs her money to pay off his gambling debts and she's his ticket to the good life.
Marco Vargas isn't sure what he's getting himself into when he rescues Brandy, but figures he'll do the chivalrous thing. He offers her a job in his bar and the chance to sort out her feelings. But it seems that keeping Brandy hidden is easier than keeping his hands off her—and what will happen when Brandy discovers that Marco has secrets of his own?
Coming May 23rd from Carina Press
EXCERPT
The Hunk-A-Hunk-A Burning Love Chapel smelled like stale beer and BO. The only light source came from the afternoon sun streaming through the stained glass shrine to Elvis. Instead of it inspiring any spiritual feelings, it simply reminded her of the plastic shapes she'd painted and baked as a child.
Brandy Summers shuddered and wiped damp hands down the front of her wedding dress, trying to keep the god-awful stench out of her nose.
She dropped her gaze to the floor. The carpet, shaggy and orange, had probably been purchased from some clearance room back in the seventies. The fan in the room barely circulated the stagnant air, but did cause the inflatable arch over the altar to lean to the right.
Be happy, this is your wedding day for goodness' sake. And it wasn't so bad. It could've been worse.
The fluorescent neon guitar behind the altar crackled and then flickered out.
Okay, it was officially worse.
"Brandy? Is everything all right?" Gordon whispered as the Elvis minister, who'd stopped midvows, flipped through his notes and muttered to himself.
Was everything all right? Talk about a loaded question. She'd barely had time to even think since Gordon had walked into their hotel room five hours ago after his seminar. He'd dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching a wedding dress as he declared they should be spontaneous and get married.
What just might be stranger was the fact she'd decided it was a good idea.
"Everything's fine." The two words took a heck of a lot of energy to get out. Which was a little bizarre, seeing as this should've been the happiest day of her life.
"Wonderful." For a moment she thought she saw the flash of irritation in Gordon's eyes, but then his grin widened.
Was it wrong to compare his glaringly white teeth to the minister's white polyester jumpsuit?
Lord, her parents were going to have a conniption when they discovered she'd gotten married in some rat-infested Elvis chapel in Vegas. No matter how often they told her to let loose and enjoy life, the wedding of the only Summers heir should've come with at least a six-figure price tag.
Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. Heavens, her career choice alone had already drawn severe disapproval.
Wait. What was that in the corner? Oh dear God. A rat trap. She groaned, the sound barely audible behind her compressed lips.
Why? The question finally erupted in her head. Okay. She understood the wanting to be spontaneous part, but why did he choose this place? This was the Las Vegas Strip, it was loaded with places to get hitched. This chapel—and only a mental case would even consider it one—was beyond gross.
"You know how much I love you, right, love muffin?"
She winced at Gordon's endearment. Love muffin. Why on God's green earth did he insist on calling her that? She hated it and had told him as much on more than one occasion. It made her feel like an amorous Twinkie. How was that remotely sexy? She bit back a sigh. Not that she'd ever been mistaken as sexy.
You should be concentrating on the fact that he said he loves you, not his tacky pet name for you.
Gordon was a good man. He was. Nice in appearance, charming, kind and even volunteered with a handful of charities. Any woman would be thrilled to marry him. So what was wrong with her?
Doubt prickled in her gut, and not for the first time since she'd put on the wedding dress an hour ago. But then, the dress itself had been enough to make her hesitate. Apparently Gordon had picked it up at a thrift shop off the Strip. It was a huge white creation that screamed 1980 and had more ruffles than a bag of chips.
So why was she doing this again? Because I'm in love. Right? Maybe? Or maybe it had a lot to do with the fact that she was turning thirty next week. Thirty. Sure maybe Cosmo could make it look trendy to be single in your thirties, but she wasn't a Cosmo kind of woman. She was a Good Housekeeping kind of woman, and had been since she'd started pilfering her aunt's subscription in the sixth grade.
She'd been with Gordon for a year. Not too long, but it wasn't like they were rushing into this. And at least she knew he wasn't after her money. The man was a dentist for a reality TV show. He had an impressive bank account.
"Look, we can do a formal ceremony for everyone when we return to L.A.," Gordon said, his tone taking on an edge, or was she imagining it?
She gave a wan nod. That still wouldn't appease her parents. And then when the media got wind of this…
"Oh, okay, I see where we are. Sorry about that, young lovers." The Elvis looked up from his notes and grinned. "Do you, Candy, take Gordon—"
"Her name is Brandy," Gordon corrected.
This just wasn't right. Any of it. She shook her head and took a small step backward.
"Right. Brandy. Thank you. Thank you very much." The minister did the Elvis lip thing. "Do you, Brandy, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
The nauseating smell inside the chapel seemed to grow stronger, the walls closing in on her. Oh God. I have to get out of here.
She took another step backward and stumbled over the hem of her wedding dress.
"Brandy?" Gordon's tone turned impatient and he took a step toward her. Something hard flickered in his eyes as he reached out and manacled her wrist with long fingers.
Ouch. That kind of hurt. She blinked in surprise and tugged at her wrist, but he didn't seem to want to let her go.
"Now's the part where you say I do, love muffin." His words held a steely threat that she knew she wasn't imagining this time.
Say I do? It should've been easy enough, but her head twisted from side to side in denial. No. No. No.
"I'm sorry," Brandy whispered and pulled free her hand from his grip. She grabbed the bottom of her dress and the acres of tulle that surrounded it. "But I don't think I can."
She spun around, drew in a quick breath and then ran out on her wedding.
"Brandy!" Gordon cried. His tone was reminiscent of Marlon Brando's Stella yowl in A Street Car Named Desire. Then came the sound of his footsteps pounding down the aisle.
Great. As if her fleeing her wedding wasn't bad enough, he was actually going to chase her? Brandy pulled her skirts higher and increased her pace, knees pumping with the extra effort.
"We don't do refunds!" the Elvis yelled and she knew luck was on her side, because Gordon was such a tightwad he would surely stop to argue.
She burst out of the chapel, momentarily disorientated by the brightness of the sun and noise of the Las Vegas Strip. She needed to get away from here. Maybe she could catch a cab.
The boulevard was crowded with rush hour traffic. Shoot. Not a cab in sight. Her attention caught on the big, wide, black-and-silver Harley idling beside her at the light.
A very nice bike indeed, and not a bad looking rider either. She took in the muscled forearm with a dragon tattoo. The man had a dangerous sexy vibe. Not that she could tell his sexiness level with his helmet covering his face.
"Love muffin!" Gordon burst out the chapel doors. "You don't want to do this!"
Brandy pulled her attention away from the hot biker and scanned the boulevard again for a cab. Still none in sight.
She looked back at the biker, her pulse skipping. Was she bold enough?
Desperate times called for desperate measures…besides, it gave her an excuse to ride a motorcycle.
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