I’m happy to be a part of the Teaser Blitz for author S.C.
Stephens’ FURIOUS RUSH, which will be released later this month.
As part of the Teaser Blitz, the author is sharing an excerpt
from the book. In addition, you can enter a tour-wide giveaway to win an ARC
copy of FURIOUS RUSH. Please see the end of the post for more giveaway
details.
◊Title:
FURIOUS RUSH
◊Author:
S.C. Stephens
◊On Sale:
August 23, 2016
◊Publisher:
Forever
◊Format:
Trade Paperback & eBook
◊Price: $12.99
USD (TP) / $4.99 USD (eBook)
The first in an emotion-fueled, New Adult series from the #1
bestselling author of the Thoughtless
novels!
Too
fast, too furious—and way too hot to handle…
Mackenzie
Cox has a lot to prove. Daughter of a racing legend, she is eager to show the
world that she has inherited her father's talent in the male-dominated sport of
professional motorcycle racing. The last thing Kenzie needs is to be
antagonized by her rival team's newest rider, Hayden Hayes. Plucked from the
world of illegal street racing, Hayden immediately gets under Kenzie's skin.
His insinuations that Kenzie is a spoiled princess who was handed her career
fuels her desire to win, and much to her surprise, Kenzie soon learns she
performs better when she's racing against Hayden.
As
Kenzie and Hayden push each other on the track, the electric energy between
them off the track shifts into an intense—and strictly forbidden—attraction.
The only rule between their two ultra-competitive teams is zero contact. Kenzie
always does her best to play by the rules, but when her team slips into a
financial crisis, she has no choice but to turn to Hayden for help. The tension
simmers during their secret, late-night rendezvous, but Kenzie has too much to
lose to give in to her desires. Especially when she begins to doubt that Hayden
has completely left his street life behind...
You can pre-order FURIOUS RUSH at the following sites:
Now here’s an excerpt from FURIOUS RUSH for your
reading pleasure. Enjoy!
Honda Boy was holding his helmet under an arm while he
flirted with the girls surrounding him. He was blond, with a short, shaggy
hairstyle that probably took a lot more effort to create than it looked like. I
could tell from the way the girls around him were tittering like teenagers that
he was charming; with seemingly little effort on his part, he had all of them
eating out of his hand. When a break in the crowd gave me a clear view of his
face, I realized another thing: He was smokin’, someone-hold-on-to-my-ovaries-
before-they-explode hot.
There was a perfect symmetry to his rugged features that
made it seem unreal that he was standing just a few feet away from me. He
should be plastered on a billboard somewhere, half-naked, selling overpriced
cologne to men who wanted just a fraction of his sex appeal. As if he could
feel my eyes on him, he turned his gaze my way. Our eyes met and locked, and I
was helpless to turn away. There was something carnal about him, primal and
dangerous. Exotic. I was instantly captivated, and I hated that I was. This guy
was neck-deep in a world that twisted my stomach, a world that spat in the face
of my sport. My career.
As his light-colored eyes bored holes into mine, one edge of
his lip curved up in a devilish crooked grin that was both playful and
promising. He was practically shouting, with just that one deadly smile, that
he would satisfy my every desire, satiate every craving I could possibly have.
My heart started thudding in my chest as sensations that had been dormant for
far too long swirled to life in- side me. Luckily for me, the big man taking
the guy’s bets clapped him on the shoulder, breaking our stare down. Once I was
free of his steamy gaze, I instantly turned around so my back was to him. Jesus, was I breathing harder? Ridiculous,
absolutely ridiculous. I was twenty-two, not twelve.
“Damn,” I heard Nikki say. “You were right. I should have
bet on him from the get-go. I didn’t really get a good look at him before, but
he is freaking hot!”
Inhaling a deep breath, I attempted to force my body back in
line with my brain. “This guy is
undefeated?” I asked Nikki. “Really?” She nodded in answer and I had to close
my eyes for a second. A face like that with racing skills to boot? Jesus.
Clearing my throat, I nonchalantly asked, “What did you say
his name was again?” I could at least label the guy in the fantasy I was surely
going to have later.
“Hayden...
something. He’s been around for a while, from what I gathered.”
I risked a glance over my shoulder at... Hayden. He’d
slipped his helmet on, thankfully, although his visor was popped up. The big
guy taking bets had been joined by a skinny Hispanic guy who seemed to be
giving Hayden instructions. Or maybe a pep talk. The little guy was acting out
the race that was about to happen with his hands, complete with swerving and
explosions. God, I hoped there weren’t going to be explosions. While he was
going through his dramatic highlights, the big guy looped a camera over
Hayden’s helmet.
When the two competitors were ready, they backed their
motor- cycles onto the street. A cheer ripped up and down the sidewalk as the
hopeful gamblers prepared for another round of racing. I didn’t want to feel
anything but contempt for what I was witnessing, yet the energy of the
spectators, the roar of the bikes—I couldn’t help the zing of excitement that
raced up my spine. Against my will, my mouth twisted into a wide grin, and a
yell of encouragement left my lips. Hayden’s helmet swiveled my way as he
revved his engine. My pulse quickened as our eyes met. Then he winked at me and
slammed his visor shut.
As the riders moved into position, Nikki grabbed my arm.
“Come on. We can watch the action from the van.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Before I could ask
her, though, she yanked me toward a black van parked on the sidewalk. The back
doors were open, and a giant monitor attached to a swinging metal arm was
sticking out above the hovering crowd. The screen was split in two, each half
showing the footage from one racer’s helmet cam. Hayden and his opponent were
both looking straight ahead, and the dual feeds showed similar stretches of
barren road. Looking down the street, I saw that the pair were stopped at a
crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.
Returning my eyes to the monitor, I found myself holding my
breath as I waited for the signal to change colors. When it turned green and
the bikes surged forward, I stepped closer to the van, like that would somehow
release my pent-up energy. In unison, the crowd around me started hooting and
hollering. Swept up in the moment, I bounced on my toes and prayed for speed.
But after watching the screen for just a few seconds, I was struck with the
harsh reality of the situation I was watching. This was no closed-off track
with well-defined paths. This was down and dirty, anything goes, just get to
the finish line first racing.
The bikes blew through red lights like they meant absolutely
nothing. The streets were fairly empty at this early hour, but they blurred
past the few vehicles on the road like they were standing still; they had to be
going 100 miles per hour, easy. They dodged obstacles by hopping onto the
sidewalk, they fishtailed around slick corners, and they came close to
colliding with oncoming traffic more than once.
I turned to Nikki with shock clear on my face. “This is
insane! Someone’s going to get hurt. Maybe killed!”
Nikki’s face was pure elation as she watched the screens.
Her expression changed as my words sunk in, then she looked at me like I had a
foot sticking out of my head. I supposed it was odd to hear that type of
statement coming from someone who routinely hovered around the 150 mark on the
speedometer while riding, but that was a completely different kind of
environment. Believe it or not, what I did was safe, relatively speaking.
Millions of dollars were spent to make it that way. This was not safe. At all.
“They’re breaking every traffic law there is,” I added, feeling
like a giant stick in the mud. Someone needed to be the voice of reason here,
though, because everyone was clearly out of their ever loving minds.
Nikki smirked at my comment. “It’s a race, Kenzie. They
can’t exactly drive cautiously. Why do you think this happens so late at
night?”
“Because it’s illegal,” I deadpanned. I got a couple of odd
looks from the crowd after saying that, including a particularly nasty glare
from Hayden’s bet collector. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to be talking
about the law. Shutting my mouth, I quickly refocused on the screen.
Just as I noticed a familiar section of street come into
view on the monitor, one side of the screen started wobbling, then the camera
showed asphalt, sparks, spinning scenery, and a rapidly approaching telephone
pole. The crowd around me hushed as it became clear that Hayden’s competition
wasn’t going to finish this race. I heard Hayden’s bike rounding the corner
seconds later, then Nikki was once again pulling me along like a rag doll. She
shoved us into a good position to see the finish line right as Hayden’s Honda
whizzed past. He was alone. Cheers erupted mixed with a few groans from the
people who’d bet on the other guy.
Just as I was wondering if anyone was going to go check on
the Ninja rider, Nikki grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me with
uncontainable joy. “We won, Kenzie! We frickin’ won!”
“Great,” I said, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t bite my
tongue.
Releasing me, Nikki let out a squeal of excitement. “I just
made enough money to pay you back and
cover my loss. See, aren’t you glad you came?”
I narrowed my eyes into poisonous daggers that would
hopefully drill some sense into her. “I hate you,” I murmured. Nikki held a hand over her heart. “I know by
hate you mean love, and I love you too, Kenzie. Now let’s collect my winnings
and go home so you can rest up. Big year this year!”
I opened my mouth to scold her with some biting remark about
how I’d wanted to leave ages ago, but she turned on her heel and left me there,
gaping. Just as I was forcing the muscles in my jaw to relax enough to
contract, Hayden pulled up next to where I was standing on the sidewalk. It
felt like the world suddenly shifted into slow motion as I turned my head to
look at him.
He was still hunched over his bike, hands on the grip and
throttle; the only indication that he was looking at me was the direction of
his dark helmet. Then, like some freaking Prince Charming in a fairy tale, he
slowly removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. I swear the air around
me condensed as his tilted smile came into view. Jesus Christ, this guy was sex
on a stick.
Reaching up, he roughly ran a hand through his sweaty dirty-
blond hair. The short, sexy shag he’d had going on earlier was destroyed from
the helmet, but somehow after just a few scruffs of his hand, the carefree
style was back to utter perfection. I kind of wanted to mess it up again, run
my hands through the strands, grab a handful and clench it tight while I
outlined those incredibly kissable lips with my tongue.
Whoa. No. I didn’t want that.
His penetrating gaze studied my face for a moment. There was
something there in his eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. Interest, sure, but
almost... sadness too. Then he smiled, and the look vanished so fast, I was sure
I’d imagined it. “Haven’t seen you here before,” he said, his voice low and
easy, like he hadn’t just risked his life. “I hope you bet on me. It would be a
shame to see someone as beautiful as you... lose.”
His grin turned suggestive, and warning signs started
flashing in front of my eyes. Danger! Do
not proceed! Rocky road ahead! Turn back now! The warnings flared even
brighter when he stood from his motorcycle and began approaching me.
When he was directly in front of me, so close that I could
smell the subtle spicy aroma of his cologne, my heart was hammering so hard, I
was positive he could hear it, positive he could see my T-shirt lifting and
releasing like a frantic hummingbird was hiding under the fabric. What the hell
was he doing to me? Was I nervous or excited? Because the sensation was so
similar to both, I honestly couldn’t tell.
Extending a hand, he smoothly said, “Name’s Hayden. Hayden
Hayes.” I was just about to lift my hand and touch him—my fingers even twitched
in response—when he added, “And what should I call you, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? With those two simple
syllables he had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head and killed any
fantasy I might have had about him. I lived, worked, and breathed in a world
where men looked at me like I was a second-class citizen. To prove my worth, I
had to work harder, longer, and with everything I had inside me, all the
fucking time. I felt like he’d just tried to take all of that hard work away
from me with that one demeaning word.
“Leaving,” I said, walking away.
 |
| Author S.C. Stephens Credit Tara Ellis Photography |
S. C. Stephens is a #1 bestselling author who spends her every
free moment creating stories that are packed with emotion and heavy on romance.
In addition to writing, she enjoys spending lazy afternoons in the sun reading,
listening to music, watching movies, and spending time with her friends and
family.
She and her two children reside in the Pacific Northwest.
YOU’RE
INVITED!
It's a virtual-party!!! Please join S.C. Stephens (and some
pretty awesome authors) on Facebook for a pre-release celebration of Furious
Rush on August 22nd! There will be prizes! There will be fun!
This is a tour-wide giveaway for five (5) ARCs of FURIOUS
RUSH by S.C. Stephens.
To enter, just click on the Rafflecopter widget below and
follow the instructions. The widget may take a few seconds to load so please be
patient.
Thanks for stopping by today during S. C.’s visit. Do you
think females should race bikes or cars?
I’m happy to be a part of Rock Star Lit’s Cool Contemporary
Reads Contest!
