Title: Stealing the Bride
Author: Nadia Lee
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Billionaire, Humour
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When the hottest woman I ever slept with leaves me fifty bucks and sneaks out of my bed, I'm completely stunned and left feeling a little...dirty.
Most men might let it go. But I'm not most men. This woman has left her mark and I have to track her down.
Imagine my surprise when I discover that she's getting married...
So I do what's most logical: steal the bride. Except...am I even at the right wedding?
Stealing the Bride is a standalone full-length romance novel with a sexy AF billionaire, smart geeky heroine, identical twins and mistaken identity. No cheating, no cliffhanger. Just lots of heat, heart and humor. Grab it today!
Excerpt . . .
The bride is over my shoulder, wriggling like a trout caught between a bear’s paws. And it’s true: my paw is on her ass, so maybe she feels like a trout, even though we’re on a beach and there are no bears in Maui. And she’s screaming like a banshee.
I run like hell down the aisle, past the tropical flowers lining each side, feet churning the sand. Somewhere a Chihuahua is barking insanely. The bride’s head bounces on my back, the white veil brushing my thighs and knees. The guests in semi-casual beachwear are too stunned to move. They just stare, their mouths open. It looks comical—like something from a third-rate chick flick.
“Stop, you son of a bitch!” comes from behind me. The groom’s finally gotten his shit together.
Sissy. I didn’t even push him out of the way that hard. I look over a shoulder to give him a superior smirk.
He’s started after me, his feet pounding the sand. But the guy’s not fast enough. Even with a struggling woman over one shoulder, I can outrun him. I didn’t get my muscles from one of those jiggle dumbbells that simulates jerking off. I got them the old-fashioned way—sweating on Icarian fitness equipment in a gym.
Oh yeah. You aren’t getting married. Not until pigs win the Super Bowl.
Besides, he’s going to thank me. As soon as the fact that his intended and I slept together only two weeks ago sinks into his microscopic brain.
My getaway Maserati convertible is waiting. Hell yeah. Stealing this bride in style.
I dump her in the passenger seat. Cursing, she struggles against the tangled veil and a small sea of white fabric.
I start the car. The engine roars like a lion, while the bride screams like I’m Hannibal Lecter coming off a month-long fast. The Hawaiian breeze ruffles my hair. I smack the wheel in triumph and give the car some gas.
Someone in red runs right in front of the car. Shit! I slam on the brakes.
“You fucking crazy?” I shout, my heart knocking hard against my chest. The Maserati could’ve turned her into a bloody human pancake. “I almost ran you over!”
A tall, slim brunette places her hands on the hood of my car, almost like she’s daring me to run her over. Then she lifts her chin.
What the fuck?
The familiar aquamarine eyes send a jolt through me. I blink. The bride is right next to me, still cursing. What the hell is she doing over there in that red dress? Am I seeing things? I’ve been thinking entirely too much about her over the last two weeks.
“Skittles?” I say.
“Yeah.” The same husky voice.
Damn… It is her.
I glance at my kidnapped bride…who has finally gotten her veil out of the way and has the exact same face as Skittles. What the fuck is going on?
I run like hell down the aisle, past the tropical flowers lining each side, feet churning the sand. Somewhere a Chihuahua is barking insanely. The bride’s head bounces on my back, the white veil brushing my thighs and knees. The guests in semi-casual beachwear are too stunned to move. They just stare, their mouths open. It looks comical—like something from a third-rate chick flick.
“Stop, you son of a bitch!” comes from behind me. The groom’s finally gotten his shit together.
Sissy. I didn’t even push him out of the way that hard. I look over a shoulder to give him a superior smirk.
He’s started after me, his feet pounding the sand. But the guy’s not fast enough. Even with a struggling woman over one shoulder, I can outrun him. I didn’t get my muscles from one of those jiggle dumbbells that simulates jerking off. I got them the old-fashioned way—sweating on Icarian fitness equipment in a gym.
Oh yeah. You aren’t getting married. Not until pigs win the Super Bowl.
Besides, he’s going to thank me. As soon as the fact that his intended and I slept together only two weeks ago sinks into his microscopic brain.
My getaway Maserati convertible is waiting. Hell yeah. Stealing this bride in style.
I dump her in the passenger seat. Cursing, she struggles against the tangled veil and a small sea of white fabric.
I start the car. The engine roars like a lion, while the bride screams like I’m Hannibal Lecter coming off a month-long fast. The Hawaiian breeze ruffles my hair. I smack the wheel in triumph and give the car some gas.
Someone in red runs right in front of the car. Shit! I slam on the brakes.
“You fucking crazy?” I shout, my heart knocking hard against my chest. The Maserati could’ve turned her into a bloody human pancake. “I almost ran you over!”
A tall, slim brunette places her hands on the hood of my car, almost like she’s daring me to run her over. Then she lifts her chin.
What the fuck?
The familiar aquamarine eyes send a jolt through me. I blink. The bride is right next to me, still cursing. What the hell is she doing over there in that red dress? Am I seeing things? I’ve been thinking entirely too much about her over the last two weeks.
“Skittles?” I say.
“Yeah.” The same husky voice.
Damn… It is her.
I glance at my kidnapped bride…who has finally gotten her veil out of the way and has the exact same face as Skittles. What the fuck is going on?
About the Author . . .
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
Stay in touch with her via her website, http://www.nadialee.net, or her blog http://www.nadialee.net/blog
Website | Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter | Goodreads | Bookbub | Amazon | Newsletter
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
Stay in touch with her via her website, http://www.nadialee.net, or her blog http://www.nadialee.net/blog
Website | Facebook | Facebook Group | Twitter | Goodreads | Bookbub | Amazon | Newsletter
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