Love Like Crazy, an all new standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance by Magan Vernon is coming June 18th!
Friendship, Texas just got a little bit crazier with gruff Army veteran, Clay Carrington, and Q Ranch heiress Christy Quinn’s world’s colliding.
Vegas was a trip, and that was an understatement. An understatement I couldn’t remember and that included the brunette in my bed.
That is until my pounding headache had me getting up for a glass of water and I saw the marriage license on the ground.
The words: Clay Carrington and Christy Quinn and holy matrimony staring me in the face.
I came to Vegas to get away, and the bratty owner’s daughter of the ranch wanted to come with. I didn’t even like the boss’s daughter, let alone want to marry her.
I guess things the happened in Vegas had a way of following you home.
**This book is a standalone in a series of standalones taking place in the fictional town of Friendship, Texas. You don’t need to read any of the previous books to understand this one***
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Christy was a natural flirt. Always flipping her glossy black hair over her shoulder and batting those long eyelashes whenever she wanted something. And today was no different as she stood there in a tight little black dress, showing off those perky breasts that practically spilled out of the top.
Not only did the girl look sexy as hell, but she raked her eyes over my body as if she was feeling the same way. I literally saw her gulp before her narrowed eyes met mine. “Why are you standing there in a towel?”
“Because I just got out of the shower. Are you upset I didn’t ask you to join me?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Ew. Showering is for getting clean. Not getting your tattooed man musk all over me,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
I smirked. “Obviously, you’ve never had good shower sex.”
She rolled her eyes. “Does everything have to be sexual with you? Can you just put your clothes on, so we can see these sponsors or whatever, get dinner, and then go out?”
“You and me? Go out?” I asked, holding my towel at my waist, where I noticed her eyes briefly flitted to.
“I’m a hot girl alone in Vegas. I know I could find plenty of cowboys downstairs to take me somewhere, but I don’t want to get roofied and wake up married to one of them.” She huffed.
“Kind of full of yourself, aren’t ya?” I smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Like you aren’t staring at my tits right now.”
“Listen, A-cup, I’m not interested, all right? So, you can stop getting high and mighty on my ass,” I said, already walking away from the conversation toward the bed where my clothes were laid out.
“Hey! I’m a full B, I’ll have you know!” she called from somewhere behind me, then gasped when I didn’t answer and instead dropped my towel.
“Did you seriously just get naked in front of me? And is there a donkey tattoo on your ass?”
About Magan Vernon
Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch.
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