We're thrilled to share with you an excerpt from Alice Clayton's upcoming release, SCREWDRIVERED, book 3 of her New York Times Bestselling Cocktails series! Screwdrivered releases in only 5 days and you're going to love it... Viv is an adorable & sassy heroine and her interactions & banter with Librarian Clark and Cowboy Hank are pure Alice Clayton - hilarious, over the top, sweet, and hot. Want a fun & sexy teaser to tide you over until it releases on September 2nd? We're here to help!
Read an excerpt from Screwdrivered, make sure to PRE-ORDER, and enter to win a SIGNED copy of ALL of Alice Clayton's book! Yowsa and open internationally. Enjoy and Good Luck!
Read an excerpt from Screwdrivered, make sure to PRE-ORDER, and enter to win a SIGNED copy of ALL of Alice Clayton's book! Yowsa and open internationally. Enjoy and Good Luck!
Screwdrivered Excerpt: Meet Viv and Cowboy Hank
Pulling myself out of the car, I headed toward the barn, where I could hear the faint rustling of hay. He must be feeding Paul and Paula. Internally wincing at how terrible those names were, I poked my head around the corner carefully, not wanting to get hit with a mouthful of hay again.
I looked in, then up, and there he was. Once more, with the pitchfork and the awesome. Once more, with the no shirt and the hot. Once more, with the stunning curve of his spine as it dipped toward the small of his back, each vertebrae carefully selected and placed into position by the hand of God, or at least someone with a sense of divine proportion. Vertebrae. Mmm.
“Hey,” I called out. He didn’t even turn, which was okay. I could indulge in some more back porn.
“It is,” he answered in a bored voice.
“No, I meant . . . oh boy.” I walked farther in, sunbeams pouring through the space between the old barn boards, illuminating the golden strands of hay, making the entire space glow. He was glowing to be sure, his skin tanned a deep and outdoorsy bronze, slick with sweat and promise. I wondered if my skin would slip against his, or would it create just enough friction to set fire to everything in between.
I had a sudden vision of being thrown down on a cushiony pillow of hay, one strand in his mouth as he lazily drove into me, his jaw tight and clenched. Not only on the hayseed, but in order to contain his words of love and devotion, the honey-laced poems he’d undoubtedly been creating in his mind ever since I had the nerve to blow into his town, his world, and make him change his mind about anything and everything he’d ever believed in. He’d kept silent, keeping his devotion to himself, until this day, when the sight of my body overwhelmed his stoic nature, his steely constitution to resist me. Today, the ravaging would begin.
I waited expectantly. And waited. And waited some more. He literally stood there with his back to me, shoveling hay, knowing I was there. This onion was going to be harder to peel than I thought. Just as I was about to turn around and head back to the house, he finally threw down his pitchfork and turned toward me.
“What happened to the other guy?” he asked, starting for the ladder. His top half disappeared for a moment, giving me the chance to admire his equally tantalizing bottom half.
“Mmm?” I asked, my jaw falling open as my gaze caught on the deep indentation on either side of his heavenly carved abdominal muscles. He jumped the last few rungs, landing gracefully. He closed the distance between us, his eyes traveling over my smaller frame. A breeze blew in from one end of the barn, a kiss of sea air on my somewhat naked skin. T-shirt abandoned earlier for the cause of Clark, my skin now pebbled. Because of the wind? Or the proximity of the cowboy?
I shifted my weight, leaning forward as he approached. His eyes lingered on my sports bra, and he let his fingertips follow. Dragging one across my collarbone, he touched my skin, then curled underneath the strap. “I assume this is someone else’s blood? Were you brawling before breakfast?” he asked, stringing more words than he’d uttered to me in our entire lifetimes to- gether. He had an expression on his face that I could only classify as... amusement?
“Brawling?” I asked, barely breathing.
“I assume you won, right?”
“I. Was. Running,” I stammered, his nearness scrambling my brain and turning me into Forrest Gump.
Confusion crossed his face, and he stepped back a bit. I stepped forward, not wanting to widen the space between us. “I accidentally punched someone. On a mountain." I cursed my brain and my inability to string together coherent sentences when this cowboy was near. Seriously, it was like I turned into a different person when alone with him.
“Like I said, brawling before breakfast.” He winked (he winked!) and moseyed toward the barn door. And he was supremely qualified to bust out a mosey.
“How’d you know I won?” I asked, testing out my own mosey as I followed him.
He turned, leaning against the door, one arm over his head. Beef. To the motherfucking. Cake.
“You look like you can take care of yourself. That’s why.”
He moseyed away. I sneezed a dozen times.
Had I peeled away a layer? Perhaps not, but I’d certainly scratched through that papery brown skin on the outside. I sneezed one more time, then headed for the shower.
I looked in, then up, and there he was. Once more, with the pitchfork and the awesome. Once more, with the no shirt and the hot. Once more, with the stunning curve of his spine as it dipped toward the small of his back, each vertebrae carefully selected and placed into position by the hand of God, or at least someone with a sense of divine proportion. Vertebrae. Mmm.
“Hey,” I called out. He didn’t even turn, which was okay. I could indulge in some more back porn.
“It is,” he answered in a bored voice.
“No, I meant . . . oh boy.” I walked farther in, sunbeams pouring through the space between the old barn boards, illuminating the golden strands of hay, making the entire space glow. He was glowing to be sure, his skin tanned a deep and outdoorsy bronze, slick with sweat and promise. I wondered if my skin would slip against his, or would it create just enough friction to set fire to everything in between.
I had a sudden vision of being thrown down on a cushiony pillow of hay, one strand in his mouth as he lazily drove into me, his jaw tight and clenched. Not only on the hayseed, but in order to contain his words of love and devotion, the honey-laced poems he’d undoubtedly been creating in his mind ever since I had the nerve to blow into his town, his world, and make him change his mind about anything and everything he’d ever believed in. He’d kept silent, keeping his devotion to himself, until this day, when the sight of my body overwhelmed his stoic nature, his steely constitution to resist me. Today, the ravaging would begin.
I waited expectantly. And waited. And waited some more. He literally stood there with his back to me, shoveling hay, knowing I was there. This onion was going to be harder to peel than I thought. Just as I was about to turn around and head back to the house, he finally threw down his pitchfork and turned toward me.
“What happened to the other guy?” he asked, starting for the ladder. His top half disappeared for a moment, giving me the chance to admire his equally tantalizing bottom half.
“Mmm?” I asked, my jaw falling open as my gaze caught on the deep indentation on either side of his heavenly carved abdominal muscles. He jumped the last few rungs, landing gracefully. He closed the distance between us, his eyes traveling over my smaller frame. A breeze blew in from one end of the barn, a kiss of sea air on my somewhat naked skin. T-shirt abandoned earlier for the cause of Clark, my skin now pebbled. Because of the wind? Or the proximity of the cowboy?
I shifted my weight, leaning forward as he approached. His eyes lingered on my sports bra, and he let his fingertips follow. Dragging one across my collarbone, he touched my skin, then curled underneath the strap. “I assume this is someone else’s blood? Were you brawling before breakfast?” he asked, stringing more words than he’d uttered to me in our entire lifetimes to- gether. He had an expression on his face that I could only classify as... amusement?
“Brawling?” I asked, barely breathing.
“I assume you won, right?”
“I. Was. Running,” I stammered, his nearness scrambling my brain and turning me into Forrest Gump.
Confusion crossed his face, and he stepped back a bit. I stepped forward, not wanting to widen the space between us. “I accidentally punched someone. On a mountain." I cursed my brain and my inability to string together coherent sentences when this cowboy was near. Seriously, it was like I turned into a different person when alone with him.
“Like I said, brawling before breakfast.” He winked (he winked!) and moseyed toward the barn door. And he was supremely qualified to bust out a mosey.
“How’d you know I won?” I asked, testing out my own mosey as I followed him.
He turned, leaning against the door, one arm over his head. Beef. To the motherfucking. Cake.
“You look like you can take care of yourself. That’s why.”
He moseyed away. I sneezed a dozen times.
Had I peeled away a layer? Perhaps not, but I’d certainly scratched through that papery brown skin on the outside. I sneezed one more time, then headed for the shower.
Teasers from Screwdrivered!
Screwdrivered Synopsis and Pre-order Button 9/2
Readers back for a third round of the bestselling Cocktail series will enjoy a madcap romantic comedy about bodice ripping and chest heaving, fiery passion and love everlasting. Plus a dash of paperwork filing and horseshi—wait, what?
By day, Viv Franklin is a tough-as-nails software engineer who designs programs and loves hospital corners. By night, Vivian’s a secret romance-novel junkie who longs for a knight in shining armor, or a cowboy on a wild stallion, or a strapping firefighter to sweep her off her feet. And she gets to wear the bodice—don’t forget the bodice.
When a phone call brings news that she’s inherited a beautiful old home in Mendocino, California from a long-forgotten aunt, she moves her entire life across the country to embark on what she sees as a great, romance-novel-worthy adventure. But romance novels always have a twist, don’t they?
There’s a cowboy, one that ignites her loins. Because Cowboy Hank is totally loin-ignition worthy. But there’s also a librarian, Clark Barrow. And he calls her Vivian. Can tweed jackets and elbow patches compete with chaps and spurs? You bet your sweet cow pie.
In Screwdrivered, Alice Clayton pits Superman against Clark in a hilarious and hot battle that delights a swooning Viv/Vivian. Also within this book, an answer to the question of the ages: Why ride a cowboy when you can ride a librarian?
By day, Viv Franklin is a tough-as-nails software engineer who designs programs and loves hospital corners. By night, Vivian’s a secret romance-novel junkie who longs for a knight in shining armor, or a cowboy on a wild stallion, or a strapping firefighter to sweep her off her feet. And she gets to wear the bodice—don’t forget the bodice.
When a phone call brings news that she’s inherited a beautiful old home in Mendocino, California from a long-forgotten aunt, she moves her entire life across the country to embark on what she sees as a great, romance-novel-worthy adventure. But romance novels always have a twist, don’t they?
There’s a cowboy, one that ignites her loins. Because Cowboy Hank is totally loin-ignition worthy. But there’s also a librarian, Clark Barrow. And he calls her Vivian. Can tweed jackets and elbow patches compete with chaps and spurs? You bet your sweet cow pie.
In Screwdrivered, Alice Clayton pits Superman against Clark in a hilarious and hot battle that delights a swooning Viv/Vivian. Also within this book, an answer to the question of the ages: Why ride a cowboy when you can ride a librarian?
Wallbanger, Bk 1, Synopsis & Purchase Button
Caroline Reynolds has a fantastic new apartment in San Francisco, a Kitchen Aid mixer to die for, and no O (and we’re not talking Oprah here, folks). She has a flourishing design career, an office overlooking the bay, a killer zucchini bread recipe, and no O. She has Clive (the best cat ever), great friends, a great rack, and no O. Adding insult to O-less, she also has an oversexed neighbor with the loudest late-night wallbanging she’s ever heard. Every moan, spank, and—was that a meow?—punctuates the fact that not only is she losing sleep, she still has—yep, you guessed it—no O. Enter Simon Parker. When the wallbanging threatens to literally bounce her out of bed, Caroline, clad in sexual frustration and a pink baby-doll nightie, confronts her heard-but-never-seen neighbor. Their late-night hallway encounter has…well…mixed results. Because with walls this thin, the tension’s gonna be thick. A delicious mix of silly and steamy, this is an irresistible tale of exasperation at first sight.
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
“How thoroughly you own me, Nightie Girl,” he said, leaning in to whisper this part in my ear. “And I know I love you enough to want you to have your happy ending.”
- Wallbanger by Alice Clayton
Rusty Nailed, Book 2, Synopsis & Purchase Button
In this sequel to Wallbanger, fan favorites Caroline Reynolds and Simon Parker negotiate the rollercoaster of their new relationship while house-sitting in Sausalito.
Playing house was never so much fun—or so confusing. With her boss on an extended honeymoon, Caroline’s working crazy-long hours to keep the interior design company running—especially since she’s also the lead designer for the renovation of a gorgeous old hotel. And ith Simon, her hotshot photographer boyfriend, gallivanting all over the world for his job, the couple is heavy-duty into "absence makes the heart grow fonder" mode. No complaints about the great reunion sex, though!
Then a trip back east to his childhood home has Simon questioning his nomadic lifestyle. He decides to be home more. A lot more. And he wants Caroline home more, too. Though their friends’ romantic lives provide plenty of welcome distraction, eventually Caroline and Simon have to sort out their relationship. Sure, more togetherness is a good thing—but does less traveling and working have to mean the other extreme? Apple pie and picket fences? With this second
book in the Cocktail series, USA TODAY bestselling author Alice Clayton delivers another delicious, frothy confection of a book, shaking up her characters, stirring in laugh-out-loud humor, and serving sizzling romance straight up!
Playing house was never so much fun—or so confusing. With her boss on an extended honeymoon, Caroline’s working crazy-long hours to keep the interior design company running—especially since she’s also the lead designer for the renovation of a gorgeous old hotel. And ith Simon, her hotshot photographer boyfriend, gallivanting all over the world for his job, the couple is heavy-duty into "absence makes the heart grow fonder" mode. No complaints about the great reunion sex, though!
Then a trip back east to his childhood home has Simon questioning his nomadic lifestyle. He decides to be home more. A lot more. And he wants Caroline home more, too. Though their friends’ romantic lives provide plenty of welcome distraction, eventually Caroline and Simon have to sort out their relationship. Sure, more togetherness is a good thing—but does less traveling and working have to mean the other extreme? Apple pie and picket fences? With this second
book in the Cocktail series, USA TODAY bestselling author Alice Clayton delivers another delicious, frothy confection of a book, shaking up her characters, stirring in laugh-out-loud humor, and serving sizzling romance straight up!
“So what do we do next? Y’know, as people in a relationship after they’ve
resolved a conflict?”
“Pretty sure a blow job should follow this,” he said seriously.
- Rusty Nailed by Alice Clayton
Author Bio: Meet Alice Clayton!
Alice Clayton is a new novelist with an unholy love for her Kitchenaid mixer. Making her home in St Louis, she enjoys gardening but not weeding, baking but not cleaning up afterwards, and is trying desperately to get her long time boyfriend to make her an honest woman. Hi sweetie!!
After working for years in the cosmetics industry as a makeup artist, esthetician, and national educator for a major cosmetics company, Alice picked up a pen (read laptop) for the first time at 33 to begin a new career, writer. Having never written a thing before, she found writing was the creative outlet she had been missing since walking away from the theater 10 years ago. Combining her love of storytelling with a sense of silly, she was shocked and awed to be nominated for a Goodreads Author award in 2010 for her debut novels, The Redhead Series.
Everyone needs some comedic erotica in their lives. She is hard at work on the third book in The Redhead Series which will be out Spring of 2013 which will continue the saucy and sexual escapades of everyone’s favorite couple, Jack and Grace. She has another new release coming up soon in November of 2012, all new characters, all new story, but same brand of smutty hilarity.
Additionally, Alice loves spending time with her besties on notyourmotherspodcast.com, make sure you check them out on iTunes. 3 women rushing towards their forties still acting like teenagers. A saucy little mix of sex, love, relationships, pop cultural, celebrity gossip and All Things Jake Ryan.
Alice enjoys pickles, Bloody Mary’s, 8 hours of sleep, and a good pounding.
Finally Alice would also like all her readers and listeners to help her convince her long time boyfriend that the only other thing that would make her truly happy is finally bringing home a Bernese Mountain Dog. She is totally serious. And done talking about herself in the third person…
After working for years in the cosmetics industry as a makeup artist, esthetician, and national educator for a major cosmetics company, Alice picked up a pen (read laptop) for the first time at 33 to begin a new career, writer. Having never written a thing before, she found writing was the creative outlet she had been missing since walking away from the theater 10 years ago. Combining her love of storytelling with a sense of silly, she was shocked and awed to be nominated for a Goodreads Author award in 2010 for her debut novels, The Redhead Series.
Everyone needs some comedic erotica in their lives. She is hard at work on the third book in The Redhead Series which will be out Spring of 2013 which will continue the saucy and sexual escapades of everyone’s favorite couple, Jack and Grace. She has another new release coming up soon in November of 2012, all new characters, all new story, but same brand of smutty hilarity.
Additionally, Alice loves spending time with her besties on notyourmotherspodcast.com, make sure you check them out on iTunes. 3 women rushing towards their forties still acting like teenagers. A saucy little mix of sex, love, relationships, pop cultural, celebrity gossip and All Things Jake Ryan.
Alice enjoys pickles, Bloody Mary’s, 8 hours of sleep, and a good pounding.
Finally Alice would also like all her readers and listeners to help her convince her long time boyfriend that the only other thing that would make her truly happy is finally bringing home a Bernese Mountain Dog. She is totally serious. And done talking about herself in the third person…
