- N. N. Light
Dirty Damsels by @peggy_jaeger is a KU Event pick #romcom #romance #kindleunlimited #giveaway
Title: DIRTY DAMSELS
Author: PEGGY JAEGER
Genre: Romcom, One Night Stand, Cinderella retold, NYC romance, Female CEO romance
What if Cynderella had a one-night stand with a man named Prince?
When I first saw Cynderella all covered in soot in that sexy maid uniform, I knew I wanted to be her Prince. She's a smart and savvy businesswoman who's built her cleaning company from the ground up.
But now that Dirty Damsels was booming, I've been hired to arrange a hostile takeover. But the temptation of having her was too much to ignore... We ended up spending one night together--a night neither of us will forget.
Now, I want more. I need more. I want to spend every night, skin-on-skin, with my beautiful Ella.
Problem is, when she finds out who I really am, she'll never forgive me
He was massive. At least six-three with shoulders so wide they actually blocked my view of the room behind him. Jet-black, military close cropped hair surrounded a face constructed of sharp angles and etched planes. His jaw was formed from concrete, hard and square and hinting at a little cleft deep in the middle. Thick eyebrows the same color as the hair framed two of the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. They mimicked jade crystals, freshly mined and polished. I would've bet actual cash his light gray suit was tailor-made because it hugged the width of his shoulders with sartorial precision and tapered down to a trim waist.
All this ran through my mind as I devised a plan to escape from him to avoid being attacked. I held the plastic dustpan and brush against my body, two pitifully ineffective weapons should I need them against this potential ax murderer.
Okay, I’m pretty sure ax murderers don’t wear Armani to their kills, but still.
His brows pulled together and he was motioning with his hands. When he pointed to his ears I got it. I yanked out the earbuds and let them fall down to my waist.
"Can you hear me now?"
Before nodding, I let the sound of his voice wash over me. It was deep, rich and warm, like a glass of perfectly aged, room temperature, Irish whiskey on a chilly night. In a heartbeat I realized a girl would be happy to do whatever that voice asked her to.
"I tried to get your attention." He dropped his hands into his pants pockets-exceptionally well fitted pants, by the way. "Then I realized you couldn't hear me when I saw you swaying back and forth. I'm sorry I scared you."
I found my voice. “How did you get in? I know I locked the door behind me."
"You did. But Cal left a key for me with the doorman. I didn't expect anybody to be here."
"Your Cal’s guest?”
The smile working its way across his angular face had the same effect on me as his voice. To call it charming would have been an understatement. His lips moved with a slow, purposeful amble from the middle of his bowed upper lip, down across his thick bottom one to finish in a deep dimple on each of his cheeks. Perfect teeth lived under those sexy, full lips. On a girl they’d be described as pouty. On him they were completely and utterly masculine. And devastating. Just as a girl would do anything the voice asked, she’d also give anything for a taste of those lips.
"Buddy," he told me. "And you are?"
"The cleaning service,” I said hastily. “I thought I had enough time to get the whole place done before you arrived. You’re way early."
"I hopped on an earlier flight. And don't be sorry.” His smile changed into a boyish grin. “I enjoyed the show."
For a second I didn't know he meant. Then it hit me.
He must've seen the realization in my eyes and the embarrassment I know heated my face and neck, because his smile widened and grew a tad wicked, crinkling the corners of his gorgeous eyes. "That was a pretty impressive rendition of the Thick song.”
I've never been the kind of girl who can be teased and be comfortable with it. Probably because the evil bitch and her twin spawns of terror teased and chided me mercilessly during my adolescence. My face grew even hotter as my discomfort danced within me. I usually have a pithy comment handy to pull out of my back pocket to shoot down anyone I perceive is making fun of me. It's an old and trusted defense mechanism I've tried to curb for years, but haven’t succeeded at. For some reason, though, I couldn't think of a response. A little niggle in the back of my mind reminded me he was the guest of a client. A high paying client. A client I didn’t want to lose or annoy. Maybe my subconscious was working for me for once instead of against as it forced me to keep quiet.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you." He moved closer, while he pulled something from his pocket. Before I realized what he meant to do, he cupped my chin in his hand and placed a handkerchief against my cheek, giving it a little rub. This close I could see the dark rim of deep moss surrounding the brighter color of the jade in his eyes. Eyes that never left mine. I couldn’t blink or look away. Don’t ask me why, but for the first time I understood what the saying “like a deer caught in the headlights” meant.
The skin across his fingers was rough where he held my chin prisoner, but his actual touch was disarmingly gentle. His warm breath blew across my face as he wiped something away, inspected the area and, then, pulled his gaze back to mine. His eyes were heavily hooded and so damn hot a tiny tug yanked low in my belly and then pushed its way down lower. Much lower. His eyelashes were long and thick and jealousy stabbed through me. No amount of mascara or lash plumping product would ever make my skimpy, spikey little lash hairs look like his natural ones.
“Ashes,” he said, folding the handkerchief and then sliding it back in his pants pocket.
I bit back a whimper when he let go of my face.
"Since I'm here now, Cinderella, why don’t you go?" He took a cursory glance around the room and added, "it looks great in here. I can't imagine you have more to do. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, call it a job well done?"
"I still have the bed to make. It shouldn't take me much longer to finish up."
He sighed, deep and long. “Sweetheart, I've been on a plane for the past sixteen hours. I'm tired, I’m hungry, I need a shower, and the airline somehow misplaced my luggage so I need to get some clothes. I don't care how clean the place is as long as it's got a functioning bathroom with some fresh towels, and a bed I can crash in for a few hours. I’m still on Asian time."
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What makes your featured book a must-read?
If you like turning the tables on a fairy tale and making the poor heroine the hero in her own story, Dirty Damsels is your kind of read. Cynderella isn’t sitting home waiting for a prince to come and save her business – she’s taking care of that all by herself. Strong heroine = my kind of story!
Enter to win a $35 Amazon gift card:
Open Internationally. You must have a valid Amazon US or Amazon Canada account to win. Runs November 15 – November 24, 2022. Winner will be drawn on November 25, 2022.
Peggy Jaeger writes contemporary romances and rom coms about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all aspects of life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness, and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.
As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"
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Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0