Title: Perky
Author: Julia Kent
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: July 30, 2019
Blurb
AN ALL-NEW STANDALONE FROM NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR JULIA KENT
One hundred years ago when I was young and impulsive (okay, it was five,
alright? Five years ago...) I let my boyfriend take, let's just say...
compromising pictures of me.
alright? Five years ago...) I let my boyfriend take, let's just say...
compromising pictures of me.
(Shut up. It made sense at the time).
Surprise! The sleazy back-stabbing jerk posted them on a website and,
well, you can guess what happened. That's right.
well, you can guess what happened. That's right.
I'm a meme. A really gross one.
You've seen the pictures. And if you haven't - don't ask. And don't look!
As face recognition software online improves, I get tagged on social
media whenever anyone shares my pictures. You try getting a thousand
notifications a day, all of them pictures of your tatas.
media whenever anyone shares my pictures. You try getting a thousand
notifications a day, all of them pictures of your tatas.
So. I'm done.
It's time for revenge. Let him see how it feels! But how do you get
embarrassingly intimate pictures of your jerkface ex who double-crossed you
five years ago?
embarrassingly intimate pictures of your jerkface ex who double-crossed you
five years ago?
Especially when he's a member of the U.S.House of Representatives now?
Getting sweet between the sheets with a congressman is pretty much every
political roadie's dream, right? I'm one in a crowd.
political roadie's dream, right? I'm one in a crowd.
Except to this day, he swears he didn't do it. Pursued me for months
after I dumped him five years ago. Begged me to take him back.
after I dumped him five years ago. Begged me to take him back.
And I almost did it. Almost. I was weak and stupid and in love a hundred
years ago.
years ago.
Okay. Fine. Five.
But I still have the upper hand. Second chance romance has all the
emotional feels, doesn't it?
emotional feels, doesn't it?
I can't wait to punch him in the feels.
All I need to do is sleep with him once, take some hot-and-sweaty pics of
him in... delicate positions, and bring him down. That's it. Nothing more.
him in... delicate positions, and bring him down. That's it. Nothing more.
Pictures first. Revenge after. And then I win.
At least, that's how it was supposed to happen. But then I did something
worse than sexting.
worse than sexting.
I fell in love with him. Again.
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Excerpt
Parker’s
grasp as we kiss is masterful, his hips pivoting until we’re in a tiny closet,
the door shutting behind us, our bodies surrounded by coats. At any second,
someone could walk in, find us, interrupt and embarrass us, but I don’t care as
my fingers grasp his thick, hard chest. He doesn’t care as his hand slides
between my thighs, my need to be touched so great that I moan into his mouth,
biting his lip. He makes a sound that says he needs this, too, his erection
pressing into my hip, the centering of his thickness as he nudges my legs wider
with his knee making me hold my breath as he rubs up, just once, just right,
just there.
grasp as we kiss is masterful, his hips pivoting until we’re in a tiny closet,
the door shutting behind us, our bodies surrounded by coats. At any second,
someone could walk in, find us, interrupt and embarrass us, but I don’t care as
my fingers grasp his thick, hard chest. He doesn’t care as his hand slides
between my thighs, my need to be touched so great that I moan into his mouth,
biting his lip. He makes a sound that says he needs this, too, his erection
pressing into my hip, the centering of his thickness as he nudges my legs wider
with his knee making me hold my breath as he rubs up, just once, just right,
just there.
“I’ve
missed you,” he hisses as his mouth takes my earlobe, sucking gently, then
hard, the tip of his tongue flicking and laving, my clit spasming as it
imagines him doing this between my legs. My fingertips dig into his shoulders,
one hand diving down the length of his abs until I cup his sac, then ride the
ridge of my palm up his long, thick, engorged–
missed you,” he hisses as his mouth takes my earlobe, sucking gently, then
hard, the tip of his tongue flicking and laving, my clit spasming as it
imagines him doing this between my legs. My fingertips dig into his shoulders,
one hand diving down the length of his abs until I cup his sac, then ride the
ridge of my palm up his long, thick, engorged–
“What are
we doing, Parker?” I gasp.
we doing, Parker?” I gasp.
“Whatever
we want,” he says, so steady, so sure, so unabashedly here.
we want,” he says, so steady, so sure, so unabashedly here.
“SKIP?”
someone calls out from behind the door.
someone calls out from behind the door.
“PERKY?”
Mallory whisper-yells, her voice breaking through as I clench, my whole body
going tight, the core of me shivering with an orgasm that crashes over me as
Parker’s leg, his mouth, his very presence, make me lose my everloving mind.
Mallory whisper-yells, her voice breaking through as I clench, my whole body
going tight, the core of me shivering with an orgasm that crashes over me as
Parker’s leg, his mouth, his very presence, make me lose my everloving mind.
And all my
self-control.
self-control.
Every shred
of it.
of it.
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Author Bio
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.
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.
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