Book
& Author Details:
Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancee by Julia Kent
(Shopping for a Billionaire #6)
Publication date: February 26th 2015
Genres: Comedy, New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
All of our best dates end up in the emergency room….
I planned the perfect proposal. Plenty of lobster,
caviar, champagne and–her favorite–tiramisu. The perfect setting. The perfect
woman. The perfect everything.
Dad gave me my late mother’s engagement ring,
platinum and diamonds galore. Shannon wouldn’t care if I slid a giant
hard-candy ring on her finger instead of a three-carat diamond designed to
impress. But my future mother-in-law, Marie, will pass out when she sets eyes
on that rock, which will give us two minutes of blessed silence. That woman
talks more than Kim Kardashian flashes her naked backside on the internet.
I was going to make it perfect, from the color of
the tablecloth to the freshness of the roses. And it was perfect.
Until Shannon swallowed the ring.
* * *
Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancée gives
near-billionaire Declan McCormick the chance to tell his story in this
continuation of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Shopping for a
Billionaire series.
Excerpt
from Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancée:
Shannon has no idea how many layers of beauty she
has. And that’s exactly why she’s so exquisite.
When I was sixteen, the year before my mother died,
Mom took me and my little brother, Andrew, to New York City for a long weekend.
Pulled us out of school over the objections of the headmaster at our academy.
Mom didn’t care. We spent three nights at the Waldorf Astoria, skated at
Rockefeller Center, had the best seats at the top Broadway musicals, and dined on
the finest footlongs you could get for $3. Loaded with mustard and sauerkraut,
plus a cream soda or two.
(Do you have something against footlongs? Too bad.
Two teenagers can only handle so much caviar and lobster.)
What I remember most about that trip, and what
Shannon reminds me of every moment I look at her, was our trip to the Museum of
Modern Art. Mom insisted we go, and Andrew and I rolled our eyes like sets of
dice at a craps table.
And then.
And then I got it, right there in front of a Vincent
van Gogh masterpiece. In art history class we’d covered this painting in
detail. We were taught the biography of Van Gogh, how he came to create the
series of paintings, his motivation, and his flaws. We’d dissected the meaning
so thoroughly that I felt like I could recreate the art by automation, our
elite prep-school instruction clinical and impeccable.
Standing in front of the painting, a few feet away,
with my eyes trailing the curve of brush strokes, my mind taking in the nuance
of color, my senses dazzled by the sheer essence of the whole, I halted. Froze.
Was completely in the painting’s spell.
You can study something in the abstract. Know it’s
real somewhere out there in the world, and understand intellectually that what
you read in a book or what you’re told by someone else is true.
You have to stand in front of it and have it stare
back at you, though, to really know it.
That’s how I feel when I look at Shannon. Every
single time my eyes find her. Shannon’s smile is warm and sweet, yet better
every time she flashes it at me. Her honey-colored hair shines in the sunlight
but looks richer when it’s tangled, in bed, highlighted by the moon and messed
by me. Those warm eyes see only me when we’re together. That luscious body
craves my touch. My hands. My...all of it.
When I’m with her, the world is more nuanced.
Deeper. Authentic. Real.
She’s a work of art, one of a kind. And one I get to
hold next to my body, tuck away in my heart, and...grow old with.
I have planned the perfect proposal. No footlongs and
sauerkraut, unfortunately, but plenty of lobster, caviar, champagne and—her
favorite—tiramisu. (What is it with women and tiramisu? It’s cream, cheese,
sugar, cake and rum, not some magic potion that generates mouth orgasms. My Y
chromosome scratches its head in confusion, but hey, if it’s her favorite...I
give my woman what she wants.)
Dad gave me Mom’s engagement ring, platinum and
diamonds galore, a monstrosity he’d bought for her nearly four decades ago as
his business took off. The ring is designed to impress. I doubt Shannon would
care if I slid a giant hard-candy ring on her finger instead of a three-carat
diamond.
And, frankly, I don’t care, either. But the thought
of my Shannon sharing such an important part of my mother’s life makes my chest
swell. Only Shannon—and my mom—can do that. Only love can do that.
Plus, Marie will pass out when she sets eyes on that
rock, and that will give us two minutes of blessed silence. That woman talks
more than Kim Kardashian flashes her naked ass on the internet.
“It’s not as if your brothers are planning to tie
themselves down to one woman any time soon, if ever,” Dad had said when he gave
it to me. He’s about as sentimental as a pet rock. After having it resized to
fit my future fiancée, it was ready to rest on yet another McCormick woman’s
finger.
It was going to be calculatedly perfect, down to the
color of the tablecloth and the freshness of the roses.
And it was perfect.
Until Shannon swallowed the ring.
Purchase:
(On sale for $.99 for a limited time only!)
AUTHOR
BIO:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push
contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a
sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts
of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.
Author
links:
Thanks for hosting. I hope your readers enjoyed the excerpt and giveaway!
ReplyDeleteYou are most welcome! I can't wait to read and review this book! :)
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