Author: Marie Harte
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Date of publication: September 2017
TONIGHT, SHE PLANS TO LET GO.
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Date of publication: September 2017
TONIGHT, SHE PLANS TO LET GO.
Dressed up and anonymous, Sadie Liberato feels powerful, sexy and free. Where better to lose herself than a masked party?
Gear Blackstone’s cheating ex and scheming best friend have managed to spin his life into a serious downward spiral. At least with a mask on he can cut loose for one night. And cut loose he does—with the sexiest, snarkiest chick he’s ever met.
After a scorching-hot encounter, Sadie and Gear are desperate to find each other in real life. But can the heat last when the masks come off?
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Enjoy this excerpt!
A large, muscular man with tattoos, ear
gauges, and a Mohawk standing inside the foyer bro-hugged Elliot, gave Sadie a
refreshing once-over to let her know she was indeed a woman, and then let them
continue inside.
The music grew louder the farther they walked into the party. But
not so loud Sadie couldn’t hear Elliot’s apparent shock. Or rather, his continued
shock.
“I have no words.” Elliot stared at her as if Sadie had grown two
heads.
“You keep saying that…which is kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
“Just…no words.”
She sighed. “What?”
“You’re…hot. I mean, really sexy in that getup. Ew, I think I threw
up in my mouth a little.” Elliot pretended to gag. Dressed as the Phantom of
the Opera, her brother looked magnificent. The half mask he wore emphasized the
vivid green of his eyes and the square line of his jaw. But now, inside and
adjusting to the festivities, Sadie saw more beautiful people, making Elliot
appear almost normal.
“You know, I can look good when I put my mind to it.”
“I see that.” He smiled.
She glanced around at men and women in costumes a lot more revealing
than hers. She’d been annoyed enough that she’d decided to go as a warrior
princess, complete with a fake sword she considered using on her brother.
Sadie’s costume showed a lot of skin but kept the important parts covered.
Nothing less than what she wore at the gym, to be honest. A short skirt of fake
leather and a matching halter top that bared a good bit of her toned stomach,
complete with a scabbard at her back. Fake-gold armbands tightened around her
biceps, while quality leather boots with tufts of faux fur around the tops
looked authentic enough to be part of the costume. In reality she’d borrowed
them from Rose.
Sadie had left her hair long with a single braid on each side of her
face, and she’d darkened her eyes and lips with black makeup. A few fake
war-paint lines under her eyes and across her cheeks apparently made her look
authentically man-eating—or so the drunk guy brushing by her thought out loud.
Not bad. If he hadn’t been so sloshed, she might have considered
trying him on for size. She had a leather satchel belted to her waist
containing some money, a few condoms, and her phone.
“Oh my God. Is that who I think it is?” Elliot dragged her around
the packed dance floor and up a half level toward the rear of the home leading
out into the patio, where the crowd was thin enough to see a small gathering
under bright lights. Space heaters and tall tables had been placed around a
slate-slabbed yard, while strategically placed minibars provided drinks.
“Who are you talking about?” She rubbed her arms, feeling the chill
before Elliot squeezed them in next to two couples by a space heater. Before
she could ask again, her brother shushed her.
To the small group near them, he asked in a low voice, “Is that Gear
in the Joker costume? And B-Man with Sahara?”
“Yeah” came a low reply from one of the men. “See the camera guy
standing just behind the tall Batman? And the other one, the lighting guy
there, is wearing scrubs, but he’s no doctor. Dude is working to keep the
lights on in this clusterfu—”
“Foley,” the redhead next to him chastened.
“Come on, Cyn. This ain’t the place for reality TV. I just wanna
party.”
Sadie glanced at the guy and blinked. The large man had dark hair, a
muscular build—the way she liked them—and amazing gray eyes. Dressed as a sexy
cop, he exuded menace more than law and order. Très sexy. Before Sadie could
close her mouth, Cyn, the stunning redhead wearing an orange prisoner jumpsuit
that clung to her curves, whispered something into his ear. He chuckled, and
Sadie turned away, knowing she could never compete with a woman that pretty.
Not that she’d ever try to break up a relationship, but with that woman, she’d
stand no chance.
“Look, Sadie,” Elliot whispered with excitement. “It’s the guys from
Motorcycle
Madnezz.”
“Oh, right. Birdman and Glock.”
“B-man and Gear,” he growled.
“Whatever.” She wanted to turn away, but their dialogue sucked her
in.
Gear, the bodybuilder mechanic
from the TV show, wore white makeup and a green wig, and had a Joker
grin painted in red over his lips, making him seem both perpetually smiling and
sneering at the same time. The purple pin-striped suit he wore seemed painted
onto his larger-than-life body. He looks damn good was all she could think, wondering when she’d become
so desperate that now maniacal clowns turned her on.
“Jesus, he shaved off his beard.” Elliot fanned himself. “I’m in
lust.”
“I know.” Cyn sounded in awe until her boyfriend grunted. “I mean,
I’m surprised about the beard.” She coughed. “It’s so sad they broke up, isn’t
it, Foley? Gear and Sahara were perfect for each other.”
He shrugged. “Too bad about the show. They sure made some killer
bikes.”
Next to them, another guy agreed while his girlfriend called Gear
some unflattering names. Her boyfriend started to argue with her, defending the
mechanic.
“People, we’re getting ready to roll.” A man holding a large mic
over the TV combatants glared at the onlookers. “Quiet.”
The growing crowd around Sadie and Elliot grew silent.
Elliot gripped Sadie’s hand. “They’re starting. Oh my God. Best.
Night. Ever.”
Illuminated and surrounded by heat lamps, standing across from each
other with the mediator seated on a barstool between them, the three leads of Motorcycle Madnezz—Gear
as the Joker, with B-Man and Sahara as Adam and Eve—faced off.
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About the author:
Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, MARIE HARTE is a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after.
Visit www.marieharte.com and fall in love.
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