You should have heard the squawk from
my critique partners when I announced I was going to write Jack’s
story. “But he’s a NERD!” they wailed.
And he was. An über-nerd.
And yes, it was a challenge to take
this clueless, campy anti-hero and make him into a loveable hunk.
But I’ve always felt there is a hero
in each man, and a heroine in each woman, if we but dig deeply
enough. It took me a while to get to know Jack a little better. To
look past the puerile t-shirts and the sophomoric pick up lines.
What I found there, astounded me.
For one thing, Jack has secrets. Lots
of them. Deep and dark. Many did not even appear on the page—for
example, exactly why he ran away from home at fifteen. The reason is
inferred, but it was far too raw, far too scarring to put into words.
Jack was, however, willing to admit to
his secret, long-term crush on Sara Grant. At least to me. He’s
been in love with her since high school, ever since she stood up to a
bully and saved him from Billy Brandt’s wedgie. But Sara barely
knows he exists. At best, she has him locked in the friendzone.
In a flash of brilliance, inspired by a
chick flick he would never admit to watching, Jack decides to ask
Sara to help him become attractive to women. It’s a ploy. A ploy to
spend more time with her and hopefully help her see him as a
man.
The experiment works better than either
Jack or Sara could have dreamed. Jack is delighted…but Sara is
annoyed. Because now, suddenly, other women are looking at Jack.
She suddenly realizes she wants him for
herself. And when she learns Jack craves a taste of FemDom, she is
delighted to play along.
Their exploration takes them on a
journey of lust and love—and a happy ending they both never dreamed
could be theirs.
This was a delightful book to write. I
fell in love with Jack and Sara, and I hope you feel the same way.
The third and final book in the Wired Series, Making Over Maris
provides some laughs, some tears and visits from some old friends—all
wrapped up in a steamy, sexy story of love and redemption and
transformation.
After returning home from Ellora’s
Cave Romanticon, a crazy-fun conference for authors and readers, I
was delighted to discover that one of the Cavemen I’d met there
(and if I am being totally truthfully,
posed with in our own
cover photo), DeAngelo, the Alpha Caveman, was the model for the
cover of this book. For a closer look at this steamy hunk—and who
wouldn’t want one?—check out his facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/deangelolabare.
And read on for more of Making Over
Maris!
WARNING: This book is a
Nerd-to-Hot-Hunk sizzling erotic romance. You will never look the
same way at a geek in glasses again.
Blurb: Wired, Book Three
When über-nerd Jack asks Sara to make
him more attractive to women, she can’t say no—even though it’s
an impossible task. He’s shaggy and doughy and hopelessly
inappropriate. He has no style or emotional intelligence but he’s a
good person. And a great friend. What Sara never expects? Beneath all
that fur and geekiness is a steamy hunk just waiting to emerge.
Jack takes Sara’s regimen very
seriously, working out and losing weight until he feels like a new
man. He even complies with her command to shave his beard—because
Jack didn’t ask Sara to make him over so he would be attractive to
other women. He only wants to be attractive to her. They go on
a series of fake dates, each hotter and more sinful than the last.
It’s not long before Sara discovers Jack’s secret desire to be
dominated and what began as an arrangement becomes something
amazing—something that could be real.
Inside Scoop: Our hero
appreciates Femdom—with the right woman. Our hero doesn’t
appreciate perfect strangers grabbing his junk. Ask nicely first,
ladies!
A Romantica® BDSM
erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Buy Links:
By reading any further,
you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are
under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An
Excerpt From: MAKING OVER MARIS
Copyright © SABRINA
YORK, 2013
All Rights Reserved,
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
“So… Have you thought about it?”
Jack could have kicked himself. He hadn’t intended to burst into
her office and blurt it out like that. He’d meant to be suave and
slick.
He should have known better.
He’d never been suave and slick.
No. He’d hovered in the vicinity of
Sara’s office—after sending Kenny on a meaningless errand—and
barged through the door and pounced upon her as soon as Kat left.
“Sit, Jack.”
He plopped into the chair and, because
he didn’t know what to do with his hands, laced his fingers.
Sara studied him, dissecting him in
that way she had, with her head tipped to the side, wrinkling her
button nose. She was so cute when she wrinkled her nose. He forced
himself not to wriggle. His cock didn’t listen. Something about her
eyes, her lips, her scent, always stirred him.
He shouldn’t have this kind of
reaction to her. In the office. Everywhere. But he couldn’t help
it. He just did. Always.
When she looked at him like that, when
she spoke to him in that clear, commanding voice, it was even worse.
Or better, depending on one’s
perspective.
She cleared her throat. “Okay. I’ve
thought about it.”
His pulse jerked. “And…?”
She dropped her attention to her
blotter and meticulously rearranged several deformed paper clips. His
heart pounded a painful tattoo as he waited for her response. “And…”
She met his eyes—God, she was gorgeous. “If I do this, we need to
have an understanding.”
Relief, or something like it, trickled
through him. An understanding was awfully close to an agreement. A
promise. “Okay.”
Sara sucked in a breath. “First of
all, we need to agree this is an impossible task.”
“Not impossible,” he grumbled.
Surely not impossible.
“Okay. Improbable then. My chances of
success are…dismal.”
Dismal? Jack’s belly dropped.
He fiddled with the wiry hairs on the back of his neck. He didn’t
like the way this was going. It was depressing that she thought so
poorly of him. “Am I that hideous?”
Her eyes widened. A flush rose on her
cheeks. “Oh my God, Jack. No. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It sounded that way.”
“Jack…” She rubbed her hands over
her face. “Okay. How about this? We have a long way to go. Can we
agree on that?”
“Sure.” He knew he was pouting. But
he had a damn good excuse. She’d pretty much come out and said
making him attractive to women—to her in particular—was a
hopeless cause.
“My worry is this. I can teach you
all the right things to say and coach you on how to act around women,
prescribe a diet and exercise plan and even give you a makeover. But
if you don’t listen to me—if you don’t follow the plan—I
fail.”
“I’ll listen. I’ll follow the
plan.” Hell. He’d follow her anywhere she wanted to lead. If she
only knew…
Something fierce stirred in her eyes.
“It’s not going to be easy, Jack. I’m gonna work you.” Why he
shivered at the tone in her voice, he had no clue. Or maybe he did.
“I want you to agree to honor our contract—even if you drop the
ball.”
“Of course.” He always kept his
promises.
“You swear?”
He put a hand over his heart. “I
swear.”
She sat back. The fire in her eyes
flickered and sputtered out. “Okay. So next week I’m going back
East to spend some time with my mother—”
“How long will you be gone?” Damn.
He hated it when she was gone.
Pain flashed across her features; her
voice dropped. “She’s…not doing well.”
His heart squeezed and he wanted to say
something comforting but couldn’t find any words. Sara’s mother
had been in and out of the hospital for a year. They were very close.
Each time her mother had a relapse, Sara suffered.
Jack had never had a mother so he
couldn’t relate but he imagined having one and losing her would be
even harder than never having one at all.
“In the meantime, I’ll put together
a plan for you.”
“A…plan?” His mind spun. How on
earth was this going to work if she wasn’t even here?
“Yes. And you have to follow it.”
“I will.”
She put her hands flat on the desk and
skewered him with a glower. “Religiously, Jack.”
“Okay.” He tried to not wriggle in
his seat. He loved it when she got all…adamant. “So you’ll do
it?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “I’ll do
it.”
Relief cascaded through him. Relief and
hope. It was a tiny sprig of hope, but hope was hope. “So when do
we begin?”
She gazed at him. Some strange emotion
he couldn’t interpret flashed over her features. “Now.”
Oh. God. Excitement and satisfaction
and panic surged through him. “Now?”
“Yes. I need to do an assessment. You
know. To figure out exactly where we are.”
He swallowed. “An assessment?”
“Of your game.”
“Okay.” He liked games. He scooted
to the edge of his seat.
“Let’s pretend I’m a woman—”
“You are a woman.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Be serious,
Jack.”
“I am being serious.” He was.
“Let’s pretend I’m a woman you
see at a bar. And you’re interested.”
Oh. He was.
“What’s the first thing you do?”
Okay. He could wrap his brain around
this. He shifted to the side and pulled out his wallet. Found his
trusty cheat sheet and unfolded it and spread it flat on the desk.
“What the hell is that?” She gaped
at the rumpled, well-worn paper.
“
It’s my flowchart.” Duh.
Sara blinked. “You have a flowchart
for picking up women.” Not a question.
“Naturally.” Didn’t everyone?
“Let me see that.” Before he could
stop her she snatched the paper away. Scanned it. “Oh God.”
He knew what she was seeing. He’d
studied this flowchart a hundred times. Still, when she read it
aloud, he winced.
“Picking Up Chicks.” She grimaced.
“Seriously, Jack? That’s what you named it?”
“Yes.” What else would he name it?
“‘Step One. Assess the situation’.
Okay. That works. ‘Does she seem cranky?’ Cranky? Seriously,
Jack? Cranky?”
He shrugged. “It’s a critical
variable.” It was. It was exceedingly difficult to pick up a cranky
woman. “Statistically speaking—”
But Sara ignored him. “‘If Yes:
Charm her from her bad mood. If No: Proceed with caution.’” Sara
sighed and glanced up at him. “Proceed with caution? We’re not
wild animals, Jack.”
“You kind of are.” This he
muttered. She didn’t hear. Or maybe she did. Maybe she was ignoring
him again. She did that.
With a derisive snort, she crumpled up
his precious template for seduction and tossed it in the trash.
With a strangled “eep” he dove in
after it, dug it out, refolded it and tucked it back into his wallet.
It had never worked but it was all he had. He needed it.
She glared at him. And then for some
reason she softened. “Women are not an empirical science, Jack.”
She gestured to his wallet. “We’re not all alike. There is no
‘one size fits all’ approach to winning someone’s heart.”
Yeah. He got that. “But you need to
have a standard operating procedure—”
“No, ya don’t.” She blew out a
breath. He loved the way it made her bangs flutter up. “Don’t you
see? This kind of thing comes off as cheesy. Planned. Practiced.”
“And that’s…bad?” How could
planning and practice be bad?
“Women don’t want to feel like
they’re an insect being dissected or analyzed. They don’t want to
be one option in a sea of possibilities. They want to be special.
They want a guy who responds to them on an instinctual level. A guy
who is so interested, he can’t help but be charming. Not a guy who
has to be reminded to be seductive—by an SOP.”
He shook his head. This was all
so…alien. “I don’t get it.”
She buried her face in her hands. “No.
You don’t. That’s the point. Oh Jack, I’m going to need a
couple days to think about this.”
His pulse stuttered. “But you already
promised…”
“No. I’ll do it. I did promise to
do it. I just need to think about how to do it.”
He relaxed. Okay. Okay. Okay. It would
be okay. “Thank you, Sara.”
“Yeah.” Her cell phone buzzed and
she picked it up to check the screen. Her lips tightened and she set
it back down. “No prob.”
Damn. Why did she seem so dispirited?
He’d seen the tears on her cheeks when he interrupted her meeting
with Kat. He’d hated her tears. Hated even more that he didn’t
have any right to wipe them away.
“Sara.” He waited until she met his
gaze. “Thank you.”
This meant everything to him. More than
she could ever know.
“Sure, Jack. Give me a couple days to
think about this.”
“Sure.”
She stared at him for a minute and then
said in a very small voice, “You can go now.”
Right. He could go. But he didn’t
want to. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to fold her in his arms
and hold her and make whatever was making her sad disappear.
He didn’t have that right either.
And he never would.
But for the next few months, he’d
have her attention.
And that would be
worth a thousand trips to Paris.
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion.
Anaward winning author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers, her
titles range
from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror.
Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on
Facebook
or on
Pintrest.
Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on
Amazon
or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!
Follow me on twitter @sabrina_york
Books by Sabrina York
Dark Duke (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s
Cave) —Coming soon
Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s
Cave) —Coming soon
Thanks again, Sabrina for being here today, I know you're a very busy lady. I hope everyone enjoyed Sabrina's post, and please stop back again next Wednesday when the fantastic Dalton Diaz will be here.
