Hey lovely readers and patiently waiting fans!
It’s almost time. Edits and changes for the third book in the Grover Beach Team series are done and the book will be available on September 12, 2014.
The fourth book will follow shortly after. So if you haven’t read T IS FOR… before I took it down for a second edit, you can now preorder it on Amazon.
But because there’s a pretty mean cliffhanger at the end of this book, I suggest you look out for the next installment already. Also up for preorder. 😉
Here’s a little excerpt, to give you an idea of what’s coming at you with this story. 😉
“Um, hi. I’m Samantha Summers. Is Anthony home?” When I clasped my hands, I realized I was actually sweating. It made me gnash my teeth behind my closed lips. How could I let a stupid guy turn me into a ball of nerves?
Mrs. Mitchell nodded, then she shouted over her shoulder, “Tony! A friend of yours is here.”
“Black hair?” came the answer from somewhere inside.
Now his mother drew her brows into a puzzled expression as she looked back at me. “Yes.” She shrugged, and it seemed like an apology.
It wasn’t her fault that her son was an ass, so I let her off with a smile.
“Give her the stack of notes! It’s on the chest!”
He didn’t intend to come to the door? Fine with me. A relieved breath escaped me, and I felt the knot in my stomach ease.
Mrs. Mitchell, however, seemed to be appalled by her son’s behavior and tried to explain in a confused but sympathetic voice, “He just came home from practice. He hasn’t showered yet and probably doesn’t want to come out all sweaty. Boys, you know.” She grimaced, and I appreciated her attempt to give me an excuse though she had no idea what was going on.
The door stood wide open as she went back to the broad wooden chest to get the notes for me. I caught a brief glimpse of the inside of the house. A long hallway opened into several rooms at either side. I liked the floor tiles. They were creamy white with a blue tile here and there.
My gaze snapped back to the blond woman when she shouted once more. “There are two stacks, Tony! Which one?”
“The left! No wait, the right. Ah, damn…”
I sucked in a sharp breath when he suddenly appeared from a door at the far end of the hallway. He was wearing cleats and white shorts with two blue stripes on either side. And that was all. Nothing else. Holy shit! My eyes fastened on his bulging pecs and abs that glistened with sweat, while he wiped his face with his bright blue jersey.
His mom smiled at me when he reached us, then she left us alone. No! I wanted to shout after her, but she was gone and had no idea of my sinking heart.
The moment Tony stood in front of me I couldn’t remember how to make my tongue function or where my voice had gone. Strangely enough, the only thing I could concentrate on was his six-pack and nice belly button. Gosh, I was pathetic! I forced my eyes up to his face, if only for a second.
Tony cast me an irritated glance. Then he pulled the sweaty jersey over his head and shielded his annoyingly perfect body from my gaze. “Get that staring under control, Summers,” he grunted.
Yeah, well, I was working on it.
He grabbed one of the stacks of papers from the top of the chest, put it in a wide folder, and held it out to me, not inviting me in. “These are the main projects. Detailed descriptions are clipped to each sketch.”
I took the folder from him silently, forcing my thoughts to focus on what he’d said instead of on his body. His sweat-dripping hair stuck to his forehead and stood out in sweet angles on top. Along with his heated red cheeks, it made him look much younger and nicer than he actually was.
“I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do,” he snapped, folding his arms over his chest. “If not, you can ask my aunt for help.”
“Yeah, thanks.” It came out flat, my frustration at his rudeness coming through.
“Just try not to spill nail polish on my notes, okay?”
Excuse me? I pulled my brows into a huffy frown. “I don’t do nail polish.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He grabbed the edge of the door and certainly would have closed it in my face in a second.
“Anthony, wait. Please.” I didn’t know what had driven me to say that, but at the same time I squared my shoulders and inhaled a deep breath, which I hoped would give me an extra half-inch of height.
To my surprise, Tony stopped and arched one eyebrow.
Oh God, what to do now? I bit the inside of my cheek, then I mumbled, “Why are you so annoyed with me? Did I do something to offend you?” Yeah, very subtle, Sam. I wanted to slap myself—even if I did want to know the answer.
His other eyebrow came up, too.
Dammit, I was running into a dead end. But I had to say something, so I tried the next best thing that came to my mind. “Listen, I know you think I enjoyed how Chloe made fun of you the other night. But I didn’t.” I shrugged. “I can’t help being her cousin, but I don’t see why that’s such a problem for you. Anyway, you got your revenge when you tore me to pieces in AVE today.”
When he still said nothing, I made a hopeful face. “So…I’d say we’re even?”
A slow, cold smile crept to his lips. “Right.” Then he slammed the door in my face.
Ah…yes. That made a crappy day perfect.
And while you’re hopefully enjoying Tony’s & Sam’s story, I’ll write Susan Miller’s book for you. Oh boy, that is fun. And I can’t wait to start with the companion boook to this one, all from the perspective of the guy. 😉