Reading on the beach is one of my favorite things to do. There’s nothing like basking in the warm sun (with the appropriate level of SPF, of course) and hearing the perpetual sound of ocean waves rushing the sandy shore, with a great book in your hand (or on your ereader.)
I have several go-to authors when it comes to beach reads: there’s Macy Beckett, Lori Foster, Debbie Macomber, and my favorite, the amazing Kristan Higgins.
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But did you know, I’ve written a few great beach reads myself? That’s right! I dare you to try my Jamett & Joseph series on for size. Here’s a few excerpts from each of the books in the series.
I hope you enjoy them so much that you’ll grab this lighthearted, hilarious series the next time you’re headed to the beach!
“Joseph,” I said, taking a shot at gaining his attention. When he rolled his head in my direction, he looked at me with the most sincere, pleading eyes. I swallowed, trying to disregard how intense they were when his gaze fell over me. “You’re safe in your bedroom now. Just lie down.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and collapsed on the mattress.
I assisted him with hoisting his legs up and removing his shoes and tie. Again, weakling that I am, I thought of taking off his shirt, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I pulled the thick duvet over his body and smiled down at him.
One last time, I took this moment to marvel at his raw handsomeness. I doubted I would ever get this chance again. We were on different playing fields, and a guy like him would never be interested in a girl like me.
I touched his face with the back of my fingers and lightly stroked his cheek, never thinking he’d feel it. Evidently, he wasn’t as numb as I thought. He opened his eyes and stared at me.
“Jamie,” I heard him whisper, though his lips barely moved.
I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned closer so I could hear him. “Yeah?”
“She broke m’ heart.”
Caroline again. Back to Caroline. That woman didn’t deserve as much reflection and consideration as she was getting from this man. I tried my best to comfort him. “I know she did. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“S’okay now,” he mumbled. “Yer here.”
His choice of words threw me. They always say drunk men are honest men, but did my simple presence actually bring Joseph comfort? I contemplated the idea a little longer and eventually came to the conclusion I was putting way too much emphasis on a plastered man’s inarticulate remarks. Come morning, he’d have no recollection of this night or what he said to me.
I patted his chest—wow, it was solid—and went back to placating him. “Go to sleep, Joseph. It’ll all be better in the morning.”
“Stay wit’ me…”
I froze. No sooner than I heard his words, I felt his hand rest at the small of my back. Through my T-shirt, I felt the heat of his palm and all five pressure points of his fingertips. His touch ignited feelings I had buried long ago. We locked eyes, and for the span of a few breaths, had I been breathing at all, we both seemed to consider the offer.
“You ready to watch that movie now—” was all he had time to say before the stream of pressurized water hit him in the stomach. ”What the—!” He lunged to shut off the faucet. “I’m soaked.”
I laughed like there was no tomorrow.
Standing there with a huge wet spot on his coveralls, he looked at me as if he couldn’t believe I would do such a thing. “You think that’s funny?”
“Yes, I do.” I was so tickled I could barely talk. Who would ever think I could be so diabolical.
He shook his head. “No willpower, huh?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You so deserved this and you know it.”
“It’s possible.”
With a look that would stop traffic, he reached up and unzipped his coveralls, revealing the warm smooth skin of his bare chest. With careful precision, he peeled the wet fabric from his shoulders, one by one, and stepped out of his coveralls.
My mouth dropped open. I did not expect him to be shirtless beneath his work attire. His jeans hung low on his narrow waist and the ripple of washboard abs rose like hard waves toward a perfect pair of pecs. His shoulders were broad. His biceps naturally bulged as his thumbs sank casually into the front of his pockets. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he was a Greek god who’d stepped straight out of a marble statue in the middle of my kitchen.
I swallowed hard.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him half-clothed, for we’d met this way in the hallway when he stood in nothing but a towel. But this was even better. He was within my reach, within the privacy of my own home.
Shirtless.
Yeah. This was way better.
Eat your heart out, Caroline.
“Why am I in your bed? Think again, Sutherland. You’re in mine.”
Joseph Scarbrough’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. My eyes scanned the room. I fell asleep in a mint green room last night and woke up this morning in a blue one. I was, indeed, in his bed.
But how’d I get in here? Did he really beckon for me in the middle of the night and I succumbed? I wouldn’t do that. Would I?
I watched him run his fingers through his bedhead crop of hair. His bare chest looked richly appealing against the crisp white sheets. I now cursed my overactive imagination because now was not the time to be weak.
“Seriously, Joseph. Why am I in this room?”
“Hell, if I know.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “It was about four in the morning when you came in, and I was too tired to care.”
“Oh, my gawd! I sleep walked?” Sheer panic tightened its vise around my heart. What if I had also talked in my sleep? What if I said things to him? Things that my heart felt which I’d never divulge this soon in a relationship. Scratch that. I didn’t want to know. I just needed to get away.
I jumped from the bed and took the covers with me. “I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry.” Brisk air met my bare legs, and I fumbled to cover them with the blankets. I knew I should’ve slept in my own pants and not just the oversized T-shirt Joseph had given me. “Why didn’t you kick me out?”
Joseph’s eyes sparkled like sunlight over a rippling river. His devious smile played havoc with my good sense. “Yeah, ’cause that’s what we men do. We wine and dine women in hope you’ll climb into bed with us—just so we can kick you out.”
I heard his quiet laughter as I hustled toward the door. He leapt from the bed in his boxer briefs—at least I didn’t have to wonder anymore—and caught me before I could make it across the threshold.
“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. Trust me, I didn’t mind.”
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RENEE VINCENT is a bestselling Contemporary & Historical Romance author who also pens humorous, sweet contemporary romance (with a smidgen of spunk) under the name GRACIE LEE ROSE.
From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day, readers will be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love.
Her books have earned numerous accolades, including #1 Amazon Bestseller for Viking Romance, countless 5 Star TOP PICKS by Night Owl Reviews, a "5 Hheart Sweetheart" Award by The Romance Studio, a "Best Book of the Year 2011" nomination from Long And Short Reviews, and a Readers Choice Award for "Best of TMP 2012."
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