Description
He
is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I’m addicted to
getting some on my own honeymoon.
One
of these things is not like the other.
I
am pretty sure a serial killer’s lair is the only place in the
world where I could stash my new husband so he can’t manage the
acquisition of our new company.
And
that seems a little drastic.
But
only a little...
All
I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled
together in ecstasy, room service and long walks on the beach in
Hawaii.
Not
vying for his kisses around a Bluetooth microphone. The Borg aren’t
sexy in real life.
So
I’m taking matters into my own hands and hitting “reboot” on
our honeymoon.
We’re
going to a place so remote that no one can find us.
Not
even my mother.
Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon is now a full-length book of 150+ pages, with both Shannon and Declan’s points of view. Originally published with only Shannon’s viewpoint, this expanded edition is a result of reader feedback. People wanted to know what Declan was up to – so here you go. This book is meant to be read after Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife and/or Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée, but if you read it out of order (or even as a standalone), that’s fine. Shannon and Declan forgive you. ;)
Buy
links:
Excerpts
#1
- Shannon
Let’s
do an inventory of this fine day. My day-after-I-got-married day. In
Vegas.
After
fleeing my Momzilla mother.
Today
is supposed be Day One of my honeymoon after marrying the billionaire
of my dreams.
(Let’s
not count the night before).
Woke
up to the lovely sight of my husband’s tousled dark hair sliding
down my torso so he could feast on me for breakfast.
Had
actual breakfast in bed after room service delivered mixed
berries, cream, bacon, and maple-soaked carrot-cake french toast, and
the best damn coffee on the planet from the coffee chain I now own.
Made
love with my delightful husband in the giant jetted bathtub in our
suite. Turns out I’m as bendy as a Cirque du Soleil performer when
I need to be. Maybe Mom’s insistence that I attend all those yoga
classes she teaches has a silver lining after all.
Dressed
and prepared to hop the corporate jet for Hawaii, kisses interspersed
between readying ourselves for the trip. Undressed twice. Dressed
twice. Declan insisted I not wear panties for the plane trip.
“But
I’m already a member of the Mile High Club,” I’d protested.
“Not
as a wife.”
He
had a point.
Panties
abandoned.
Found
his brother, my best friend, a former colleague and an Anterdec
chauffeur all married to each other.
Notice
something a little different about that last one?
Yeah.
Me too.
Day
One of my honeymoon had promise, but now? Now it’s a little too
real.
We’re
on the plane, settling into our seats, and I’m doing my best not to
think about my poor best friend and her chaotic mess back at the
Anterdec resort where Declan and I just spent nearly a week trying to
figure out our entire life.
Which
we did, successfully, to my utter surprise. After fleeing our wedding
in a helicopter and lying to my Momzilla mother, we managed to get to
Las Vegas, ensconced in a resort on the Vegas Strip that Declan had
designed himself as an intern in college. By the time my crazy family
caught up to us, we’d steeled ourselves for the inevitable fallout.
And
got so much more than we expected, in more ways than one. We’re
married now.
Husband
and wife.
That’s
really all that matters.
That,
and honeymoon sex.
Lots
and lots and lots of honeymoon sex. It’s my wifely right to walk
funny for the next few days.
And
his husbandly duty to make it so.
#2
- Declan
It’s
criminal what Shannon does to me. We just had sex, spooned and
cocooned, breathing in each other’s air and imprinting each other
with scent and time.
And
yet she makes me want more.
Spread
among the mussed bedsheets, she looks like a divine being poured her
into the bed, all long, rolling hair and sultry smiles. How can a
body smile at me like that? Yet it does. It sings to me, a song of
joy and fire that touches the very root of me.
I
climb on the edge of the bed and yank her by the ankles, hard, making
her squeal.
You
know what you do with criminals?
You
handcuff them.
About
the Author
New
York
Times
and
USA
Today
Bestselling
Author
Julia Kent
writes
romantic
comedy with
an edge.
From
billionaires
to BBWs
to new
adult rock
stars,
Julia finds
a sensual,
goofy joy
in every
contemporary
romance she
writes.
Unlike
Shannon
from
Shopping
for
a
Billionaire,
she did
not meet
her husband
after
dropping
her phone
in a
men's room
toilet (and
he isn't
a
billionaire).
She lives
in New
England
with her
husband and
three sons
in a
household
where the
toilet seat
is never,
ever, down
Social
Media Links:
1 comment:
Writing humor is a great gift, Julia.
Hope this expanded version of Shannon's and Declan's story does really well!
Post a Comment
Let me know your thoughts! (And if you're having trouble commenting, try enabling third-party cookies in your browser...)