Are you ready to get Dirty?
Dirty is Book One in Kylie Scottâs Dive Bar Series.
Order your copy of DIRTY here:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Q7LCyb
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1OYc53N
iBooks: http://apple.co/1TOAhIG
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1MetF1F
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Mez6t6
Blurb
The last thing Vaughan Hewson expects to find when he returns to his childhood home is a broken hearted bride in his shower, let alone the drama and chaos that comes with her.
Lydia Green doesn't know whether to burn down the church or sit and
cry in a corner. Discovering the love of your life is having an affair on your wedding day is bad enough. Finding out it's with his best man is another thing all together. She narrowly escapes tying the knot and meets Vaughan only hours later.
Vaughan is the exact opposite of the picture perfect, respected businessman she thought she'd marry. This former musician-turned-bartender is rough around the edges and unsettled. But she already tried Mr. Right and discovered he's all wrong-maybe it's time to give Mr. Right Now a chance.
After all, what's wrong with getting dirty?
Lydia Green doesn't know whether to burn down the church or sit and
cry in a corner. Discovering the love of your life is having an affair on your wedding day is bad enough. Finding out it's with his best man is another thing all together. She narrowly escapes tying the knot and meets Vaughan only hours later.
Vaughan is the exact opposite of the picture perfect, respected businessman she thought she'd marry. This former musician-turned-bartender is rough around the edges and unsettled. But she already tried Mr. Right and discovered he's all wrong-maybe it's time to give Mr. Right Now a chance.
After all, what's wrong with getting dirty?
Excerpt
âOnce upon a time,â he began, voice low and measured. âThere was a princess. A beautiful, occasionally annoying princess.â
âWhat was her name?â
âAh, Notlydia.â
I frowned. âHer name is Notlydia?â
âYou wanted a story, Iâm giving you one. Shut up.â
âWhatever.â
An even heavier sigh from the man. âAnyhoo, Notlydia was all set up to marry this prince. Weâll call him Prince Bag of Dicks.â
âWorks for me.â
âBut on the day of her wedding, when she was wearing this sweet dress that served her tits up like they were a fucking platterââ
âIs this an R-rated story?â
âPlease,â he said, sliding an arm around my bare waist. And I let him. âR is for rubbish. If you donât get to see any penetration then youâre wasting your time. This is XXX.â
I laughed.
âSo on the day of her wedding to Prince Bag of Dicks, Notlydia kisses him and he turns into a big slimy two-headed toad with terrible breath and even worse foot odor.â
âWhoa.â I rested my head back against his shoulder. âPoor Notlydia.â
âHell of a plot twist, right?â
âNever saw that one coming.â
âMm.â He rested his cheek against the top of my head.
âWhat happens next?â
âWell, sheâs completely freaked out, of course.â
âOf course.â
âAnd she takes off into the woods. Sheâs running through bushes, jumping fences, climbing trees, you name it. Nothingâs going to stop her from getting the hell away from that toad, Prince Bag of
Dicks.â He took a sip of beer. âUnfortunately, she loses her fancy dress along the way. Sheâs just down to some skimpy underwear and a corset and with all that jogging through the forest, itâs barely holding her in. One decent breath and thereâs going to be nipple out there for all the world to see.
Did I happen to mention sheâd been voted Best Rack in the kingdom four years running? Anyway, eventually she finds this small cottage. Now, what you donât know about Notlydia is that she has a shady past.âI tried to look up at him. But with the angle, all I got was stubble and cheekbone. âThat doesnât sound like Notlydia.â
âBe quiet.â A hand covered my mouth. âNotlydiaâs a dirty, dirty girl. Got a bad side like you wouldnât believe. A little breaking and entering is nothing to her. So into the house she goes. But sheâs all muddy from running through the woods, see? She canât let people see her like this, sheâs a princess, for fuckâs sake.â
The hand remained over my mouth. Which was fine, I had nothing to add to his pornographic fairy tale.
âNotlydia gets in the shower and starts soaping herself. Thereâs lots of bubbles and steam, and sheâs a modern woman so thereâs a bit of self-love. She even finds time to wash her hair, shave under her pits. Things like that. But then the owner of the cottage wakes up and hears the water running. He stomps into the bathroom saying, someoneâs using up my hot water. Notlydia cries out, not me, not me.â
He craned his neck, meeting my gaze. âSee, babe, what did I tell you? That Notlydia is a filthy little liar.â
I looked up to heaven. No help was forthcoming.
âSomeoneâs using up all my soap, says the owner. Not me, not me, cries Notlydia.â He put his lips next to my ear. âShe should be ashamed of herself, shouldnât she? If ever a busty princess deserved a spanking.â
I bit at the palm of his hand, teeth catching at the fleshy mound beneath his thumb.
âOw.â He laughed, pulling his hand free. âThen the owner said, someoneâs been fingering herself in my shower.â
âStop!â I put my hands over my ears, trying desperately to hold in my laughter. âThis is the worst story ever. The Brothers Grimm are rolling over in their graves.â
âNotlydia throws back the shower curtain and says, oh yeah, big boy, that was me. Come and get it. And they have wild sex all over the cottage.â Vaughanâs body jerked beneath mine as he laughed his ass off. âThe end.â
âNo way. Notlydia is virtuous and pure. Sheâd never pull that sort of shit.â
âNah.â He chuckled. âIt all happened exactly as I said. Dirtiest princess in all the land.â
âLike hell. The owner of that cottage was a pervert and a deviant. Why, he would have picked the lock on a chastity belt. She never stood a chance.â Difficult to maintain my pious stance, given Iâd started laughing so hard tears were pouring down my cheeks. The funny bastard. âI want to know more about this cottage owner. Whatâs his name?â
âI donât know. Let me think . . .â He rested his chin back on top of my head. âHe definitely isnât Prince Charming.â
âHe could be!â
Silence.
âIf he wanted to. Or not. Whatever,â I added weakly. Crap. âLetâs go back to not talking.â
I was a moron.
Weâd been all relaxed and laughing. Me and my idiot mouth. Way to go, Lydia. Just shout out any old impossible daydream to the dude whoâs made it clear there was no future âwe.â If someone could just direct me to the nearest brick wall, Iâd knock a little sense into myself.On the other hand, it was two stupid words. Surely he could have ignored the last hundred years of Disney perpetuating slick-haired young royals gallivanting around the countryside saving hot babes in distress. For the sake of getting along. God knows, Chris never had any problems ignoring or placating me. Iâd seen his thoughtless gorgeous smile aimed my way a hundred times. No, a thousand. If only Iâd recognized it for what it was.
Ugh. Just the thought of it made me want to punch the douche all over again.
Maybe I needed a bit more than a week to get over that catastrophe. The money would help. Substantially. Iâd never imagined that compromising my morals and taking hush money from such foul woe-begotten assholes would feel so good. Maybe I should sell out more often.
âThis, ah, this Prince Charming of yours,â he said haltingly.
âYes?â
Vaughan shifted beneath me, pushing out a heavy breath. âI mean, it doesnât make sense, does it? Why would he be in a cottage instead of a castle?â
âWell . . . his parents, the king and queen of the neighboring kingdom, died in a terrible accident.â
I stayed perfectly still, waiting to see how heâd react.
âI see.â
âAnd it hurt him so bad he just, he didnât want to be a prince anymore.â
Nothing from him.
âBad things happen in fairy tales sometimes.â
A grunt.
âItâs not fair, but it happens,â I said, feeling my way with more caution than skill. âThe prince loved his parents and the castle had too many memories.â
âHmm.â
âSo he ran away into the woods too.â
âDoesnât sound like much of a prince if he canât handle his shit,â he said.
âPrinces are just men too, human beings. I donât think a crown or a penis gives you magical invulnerability to loss and pain.â I stared at the wall, thinking the problem through. âLife is hard.
Terrible things happen. We all have feelings. Weâre all just flesh and blood, trying to do our best.â
âRunning away from problems isnât doing your best.â His voice echoed around the small room, the same as around in my head.
What with holding the Coeur dâAlene title for runaway bride of the year, I had no answer. None at all. So much for my half-assed wisdom.
âWhat was her name?â
âAh, Notlydia.â
I frowned. âHer name is Notlydia?â
âYou wanted a story, Iâm giving you one. Shut up.â
âWhatever.â
An even heavier sigh from the man. âAnyhoo, Notlydia was all set up to marry this prince. Weâll call him Prince Bag of Dicks.â
âWorks for me.â
âBut on the day of her wedding, when she was wearing this sweet dress that served her tits up like they were a fucking platterââ
âIs this an R-rated story?â
âPlease,â he said, sliding an arm around my bare waist. And I let him. âR is for rubbish. If you donât get to see any penetration then youâre wasting your time. This is XXX.â
I laughed.
âSo on the day of her wedding to Prince Bag of Dicks, Notlydia kisses him and he turns into a big slimy two-headed toad with terrible breath and even worse foot odor.â
âWhoa.â I rested my head back against his shoulder. âPoor Notlydia.â
âHell of a plot twist, right?â
âNever saw that one coming.â
âMm.â He rested his cheek against the top of my head.
âWhat happens next?â
âWell, sheâs completely freaked out, of course.â
âOf course.â
âAnd she takes off into the woods. Sheâs running through bushes, jumping fences, climbing trees, you name it. Nothingâs going to stop her from getting the hell away from that toad, Prince Bag of
Dicks.â He took a sip of beer. âUnfortunately, she loses her fancy dress along the way. Sheâs just down to some skimpy underwear and a corset and with all that jogging through the forest, itâs barely holding her in. One decent breath and thereâs going to be nipple out there for all the world to see.
Did I happen to mention sheâd been voted Best Rack in the kingdom four years running? Anyway, eventually she finds this small cottage. Now, what you donât know about Notlydia is that she has a shady past.âI tried to look up at him. But with the angle, all I got was stubble and cheekbone. âThat doesnât sound like Notlydia.â
âBe quiet.â A hand covered my mouth. âNotlydiaâs a dirty, dirty girl. Got a bad side like you wouldnât believe. A little breaking and entering is nothing to her. So into the house she goes. But sheâs all muddy from running through the woods, see? She canât let people see her like this, sheâs a princess, for fuckâs sake.â
The hand remained over my mouth. Which was fine, I had nothing to add to his pornographic fairy tale.
âNotlydia gets in the shower and starts soaping herself. Thereâs lots of bubbles and steam, and sheâs a modern woman so thereâs a bit of self-love. She even finds time to wash her hair, shave under her pits. Things like that. But then the owner of the cottage wakes up and hears the water running. He stomps into the bathroom saying, someoneâs using up my hot water. Notlydia cries out, not me, not me.â
He craned his neck, meeting my gaze. âSee, babe, what did I tell you? That Notlydia is a filthy little liar.â
I looked up to heaven. No help was forthcoming.
âSomeoneâs using up all my soap, says the owner. Not me, not me, cries Notlydia.â He put his lips next to my ear. âShe should be ashamed of herself, shouldnât she? If ever a busty princess deserved a spanking.â
I bit at the palm of his hand, teeth catching at the fleshy mound beneath his thumb.
âOw.â He laughed, pulling his hand free. âThen the owner said, someoneâs been fingering herself in my shower.â
âStop!â I put my hands over my ears, trying desperately to hold in my laughter. âThis is the worst story ever. The Brothers Grimm are rolling over in their graves.â
âNotlydia throws back the shower curtain and says, oh yeah, big boy, that was me. Come and get it. And they have wild sex all over the cottage.â Vaughanâs body jerked beneath mine as he laughed his ass off. âThe end.â
âNo way. Notlydia is virtuous and pure. Sheâd never pull that sort of shit.â
âNah.â He chuckled. âIt all happened exactly as I said. Dirtiest princess in all the land.â
âLike hell. The owner of that cottage was a pervert and a deviant. Why, he would have picked the lock on a chastity belt. She never stood a chance.â Difficult to maintain my pious stance, given Iâd started laughing so hard tears were pouring down my cheeks. The funny bastard. âI want to know more about this cottage owner. Whatâs his name?â
âI donât know. Let me think . . .â He rested his chin back on top of my head. âHe definitely isnât Prince Charming.â
âHe could be!â
Silence.
âIf he wanted to. Or not. Whatever,â I added weakly. Crap. âLetâs go back to not talking.â
I was a moron.
Weâd been all relaxed and laughing. Me and my idiot mouth. Way to go, Lydia. Just shout out any old impossible daydream to the dude whoâs made it clear there was no future âwe.â If someone could just direct me to the nearest brick wall, Iâd knock a little sense into myself.On the other hand, it was two stupid words. Surely he could have ignored the last hundred years of Disney perpetuating slick-haired young royals gallivanting around the countryside saving hot babes in distress. For the sake of getting along. God knows, Chris never had any problems ignoring or placating me. Iâd seen his thoughtless gorgeous smile aimed my way a hundred times. No, a thousand. If only Iâd recognized it for what it was.
Ugh. Just the thought of it made me want to punch the douche all over again.
Maybe I needed a bit more than a week to get over that catastrophe. The money would help. Substantially. Iâd never imagined that compromising my morals and taking hush money from such foul woe-begotten assholes would feel so good. Maybe I should sell out more often.
âThis, ah, this Prince Charming of yours,â he said haltingly.
âYes?â
Vaughan shifted beneath me, pushing out a heavy breath. âI mean, it doesnât make sense, does it? Why would he be in a cottage instead of a castle?â
âWell . . . his parents, the king and queen of the neighboring kingdom, died in a terrible accident.â
I stayed perfectly still, waiting to see how heâd react.
âI see.â
âAnd it hurt him so bad he just, he didnât want to be a prince anymore.â
Nothing from him.
âBad things happen in fairy tales sometimes.â
A grunt.
âItâs not fair, but it happens,â I said, feeling my way with more caution than skill. âThe prince loved his parents and the castle had too many memories.â
âHmm.â
âSo he ran away into the woods too.â
âDoesnât sound like much of a prince if he canât handle his shit,â he said.
âPrinces are just men too, human beings. I donât think a crown or a penis gives you magical invulnerability to loss and pain.â I stared at the wall, thinking the problem through. âLife is hard.
Terrible things happen. We all have feelings. Weâre all just flesh and blood, trying to do our best.â
âRunning away from problems isnât doing your best.â His voice echoed around the small room, the same as around in my head.
What with holding the Coeur dâAlene title for runaway bride of the year, I had no answer. None at all. So much for my half-assed wisdom.
Twist (Book Two) in the Dive Bar Series by Kylie Scott releases on November 22nd!
Pre-order your copy of TWIST here:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/23i1wAE
iBooks: http://apple.co/1SDbZvE
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/22fTwKK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1S0cVg7
About the Author:
Kylie is a long time fan of erotic love stories and B-grade horror films. She demands a happy ending and if blood and carnage occur along the way then all the better. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and one delightful husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet.
Kylie is represented by Amy Tannenbaum at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, New York.
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