BLOG TOUR - EXCERPT! Can't Text This by Teagan Hunter
Release Date: October 11, 2018
Today we are celebrating the release of a standalone, contemporary romance title from Teagan Hunter. Can't Text This just went live, and it is available to read for FREE in KindleUnlimited. Check out some teasers for the book below
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Buy it in PAPERBACK | Read it for FREE in KINDLE UNLIMITED
Buy it in PAPERBACK | Read it for FREE in KINDLE UNLIMITED
A NEW SINGLE DAD ROMCOM FROM THE AUTHOR OF LET'S GET TEXTUAL...
"Hi Monty. Wanna see my python?”
That’s how I ended up in the bathroom of some dive bar with a stranger.
Me, Monty Andrews, the quintessential virgin girl next door.
I was so out of my element, but there was no denying our explosive attraction, even via text.
Commence Operation Bang Each Other Out of Our Systems, because that was all it was—unfinished business.
I had no intention of falling back into the sheets with the tattooed, muscly, dirty-in-the-best-kind-of-way single dad over and over again…but I did.
Everything was going great—until we discovered I was his son’s teacher.
This book does feature characters from Let's Get Textual & I Wanna Text You Up but can be read as a standalone, as the book does not follow the same timeline.
~ EXCERPT ~
Monty
“Ow!”
“Shit. You okay?”
“I’m good, just hit
my head on the soap dispenser. Don’t stop.”
The stranger chuckles. “Didn’t
plan on it, Monty.”
I giggle when he says my name, partially because I’m a little tipsy, and partially because it
reminds me of when he first said it.
“Hey, I’m Monty.”
“Hi Monty. Wanna see my python?”
He uttered the words with a cocky grin, and I was a goner.
In my defense, that was the best pickup line out of all the guys
tonight, and since I’m determined to
enjoy myself since starting fresh in a new town, here I am: perched on the
bathroom counter at a dive bar named Lola’s
with a guy I only just met.
He’s a new
adventure, and I’m enjoying the
exploration.
His touch is gentle, yet firm in the best of ways. Large hands
grasp my waist, holding tight enough for him to leave red marks but not bruise.
It’s sexy, makes me feel safe, warm, alive.
Or that could be his lips roaming over my jaw. His stubble rakes
over my skin, and I live for this moment.
I’ll be the first
to admit this isn’t me. I’m not this girl. I don’t make out with strangers. Heck, I don’t even pick up guys in bars. I’m your average Mary Jane, the girl next
door.
I know it and I own it.
I don’t have a single come hither bone in my
body, but there was something about the way this man’s eyes slid over me that made me feel worthy of
his kisses.
Or it’s the booze
talking.
Yeah, it could be the booze.
His lips travel down the side of my neck and I lean into him,
enjoying the contact more than I probably should. The kisses are slow and wet
and perfect. He runs a hand up my back and into my hair, wrapping it around his
fingers and pulling lightly until my head is tilted just where he wants it.
He runs his nose along the column of my neck, and I’m so stupid over this, thinking it’s the hottest thing ever.
“You smell like beer and sweat and flowers.”
A soft kiss. “Why flowers?”
he mutters.
I don’t answer him.
I can’t.
He’s captured my
mouth with his again.
He moves his lips slowly against mine, learning and teasing,
seeing what he can get away with, seeing how we fit together.
The hand that was entwined in my hair is now cupping my face, and
the pressure he’s putting on my
jaw is…hot. It’s not too much,
but it’s not enough either.
His tongue finds its way inside my mouth and I nearly come apart.
Such finesse. Certainty.
This guy knows how to kiss.
** Other STANDALONES in this series **
TEAGAN HUNTER
Teagan Hunter a Missouri-raised gal, but currently live in North Carolina with my US Marine husband and 8-year-old Miniature Pinscher. I spend my days begging him for a cat, and I survive off coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When I’m not writing, you can find me binge-watching various TV shows, especially Supernatural and One Tree Hill. I like cold weather, buy more paperbacks than I’ll ever read, and I never say no to brownies.
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