Stupid Cupid by J. Haney and S.I. Hayes is releasing June 22nd!
Life comes at you when you least expect it…
Katie Belle Wilson is a single mom. At twenty-six, she's busting her hump to get her master's in Early Childhood Education. Her pet project, Cupid Is Calling was supposed to help her study people and how letter writing could connect them. Little did she know she was to become a participant and perhaps find the one thing she's always craved but never gained... Love.
What if a driven single mom lets a sweet and caring widower into her world?
Rest assured it's nothing short of Bee-u-tiful.
EXCERPT REVEAL:
We go inside and straight up to their rooms. Finding
her luggage in the back of the closet was not an easy task. I mean, it was neat
and clean, but I was halted by the sheer number of cardigans she owns. I had to
stop imagining her modeling them for me, with just a pair of little black
crotchless panties on. Yeah, I’m hearing Rick James in my head too. Stuffing as
many of the soft cotton goodies into my duffle as could fit, I get her six-piece
luggage set out. While the boys pack up the nursery and take the crib out, I’m
grabbing everything that’s not nailed down. It’s like the Grinch who stole
Christmas in here. All that I’ve left are some hooks and some wire. Yeah, I
even grabbed the unused duraflame log for my fireplace. The only thing left
other than her bathroom is the nightstand.
Grabbing the smaller bag, I pack up her lotions,
perfumes, grab her makeup kit and hair care products. I feel like Martin Brody
in Jaws. We’re gonna need a bigger boat! All the hair care products! The crazy
frizz serums and polishing sprays packed I head for the nightstand. I approach
with caution. I’ve heard stories of the things that frequent the single woman’s
nightstand. I know to approach it with an open mind and the utmost respect and
reverence. I open the drawer. There right in front of me are the red envelopes
from my letters. Awe. That’s sweet. I pick them up, and then I see it. Her
thunderstick. I pick it up, gingerly, between two fingers. Giving it a once
over. No wonder she’s tight. This thing may have length, but there’s no girth,
and I have both. In Spades. “Thunderstick? More like a pixie stick.”
“Eww, Dad!” I hear Lucas and drop the damn thing as
he shivers. On it goes, and boy does it go! It’s halfway across the floor when
I bend to grab it. Under the bed, it disappears. I lift the bed. “Grab it!” I
holler to Lucas.
“Fuck that!” He hollers back.
“What?” Jeremy goes slack-jawed and just stares at
it as it whirls toward the dresser.
“Somebody get it!” I demand.
Jeremy runs away. No help there as I drop the bed, he comes running back
in with a huge heavy book. He slams it down on the Thunderstick and then jumps
on it with both feet. Finally, murdering the ruthless thing.
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My world was decadent, if not lonely. Raised by an aging Blue Blooded sycophant, I couldn’t stomach the idea of a forced marriage.
