One of my favorite books of all time, which begins one of my favorite series of all times is getting a makeover for the e-book cover. I love the fun new look the author is going with, it even kind of ties into her next book that comes out later this year, which I will share with you at the end of this post. But check this cover out!
So much fun, and so cute! The heat will come once you open it up and start reading! Along with this great new cover, the author has shared with us the first chapter, but told from Braden's POV instead of Joss's, like it is in the book. You can enjoy that right now!
On Dublin Street by Samantha
Young
Chapter 1 – from Braden’s POV
Sighing, Braden shrugged his shoulders back and
looked up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight. Decked out in a
three-piece suit on a hot day like this didn’t ease his growing frustration
with his plan to sell La Cour. No one knew he was thinking of selling La Cour
except Thomas Prendergast, a fellow restaurateur. A successful one. If any of
his business associates knew Braden was selling La Cour they’d think he was
nuts. The restaurant had a world-class chef and a stellar reputation. And it
made money.
In truth, Braden was just stretched too thin and
not interested in La Cour. All his concentration and focus was going into
making his nightclub Fire a success, developing properties that turned profits,
and of course he still had his father’s estate agency to keep up with, as well
as a successful Scottish seasonal restaurant he co-owned with the chef, Frazier
Allie, down on the Shore.
La Cour as it stood was a nuisance, a nuisance
Braden felt obligated to attend to since his father worked so hard to make it
the success it was. But his father had always told him that when business
became a nuisance rather than a challenge, and was no longer satisfying, it was
time to move on to greener pastures.
Thomas was dragging his feet with an answer.
He glanced back at the restaurant. Come on, Thomas, make up your mind, man.
Braden’s phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled
it out and glanced at the digital reminder informing him he had a meeting in
twenty minutes with one of his managers at Douglas Carmichael & Co, the
estate agency his grandfather built up from the ground up to become one of the
primary agencies in the Lothians.
Shit. He’d
spent longer with Thomas Prendergast than he’d meant to. Scowling, Braden
walked toward Bruntsfield Church, his pale blue eyes trained on the road ahead,
willing a cab to make an appearance. Only seconds later one turned around the
corner and he stepped out onto the curb with his arm raised. To his relief the
taxi pulled up to him. He’d make his meeting.
Reaching for the handle on the passenger side, a
clean, fruity smell drifted towards him seconds before a warm, small and very
feminine hand collided with his.
Braden dipped his head and looked down into the
face of a woman, her skin bright from the sunlight, her eyes narrowed to slits
as she squinted against the sun behind his head. There was a surprised
disgruntlement in her expression. Clearly she assumed this was her black cab.
Braden prepared to disabuse her of the notion but stopped. His father taught
him that reading people, and by that he meant all the things they didn’t say
with their mouths but did with their bodies and eyes, was the key to success in
business. Braden read stubbornness in her features he could make out and in the
obstinate tension she held in her shoulders. He was in no mood for stubbornness
or fighting over a bloody cab after his meeting with Thomas had come to no
satisfactory conclusion.
For the sake of expedience Braden asked, “Which
way are you headed?”
He heard the words ‘Dublin Street’ and did what
he always did: maneuvered things to his liking. “Good.” He pulled the cab door
open. “I’m heading in that direction, and since I’m already running late, might
I suggest we share the taxi instead of wasting ten minutes deciding who needs
it more.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and nudged her into the
cab.
Relieved she didn’t stall them, Braden got in
after her and immediately gave the cab driver their first destination. His
sister, Ellie, lived on Dublin Street in a flat he’d renovated and then gifted
to her. Ellie was his half-sister—they shared the same father. She’d never had
it particularly easy from their dad. That was putting it politely. Douglas
Carmichael was a negligent bastard and despite the fact that he and Braden had
finally become friends of a sort before he died, Braden had never forgiven him
for his treatment of Ellie. The guilt Douglas should have felt transferred to
Braden, and he’d done everything he could to make sure her life was easier, and
that she knew he cared. Giving her the flat meant she could concentrate on that
PhD she was studying for. Braden might think the PhD impractical, but it made
her happy, and in the end that was all that mattered. He also liked having her
close to the estate agency which was on Dundas Street. Anytime he was in the
area, which was more often than not, he could drop by to see Els. Braden was
lucky to call Ellie not only his sister, but one of his closest friends, and it
was nice to escape the stress of his business life at least for ten minutes when
he stopped by for a coffee with her.
Braden decided he’d get the cab driver to stop
at the top of Dublin Street, burl around and come back toward Dundas Street. It
would be easier to drop him off first but it was ingrained in him to never let
a woman pay for anything, so he’d drop off the unexpected passenger so he could
pay the fare.
“Thanks I guess,” the woman answered from his
left, the words sardonic. It wasn’t the tone that drew his attention. It was
the husky, sexy voice and the American accent.
Glancing in interest at her, Braden almost did a
double take. She was attractive. Very. So busy checking her out he asked
somewhat stupidly, “You’re an American?”
She turned to him and as soon as their eyes met
Braden felt his blood heat with the impact. Jesus
fucking Christ. Intelligent, exotic, feline gray eyes appraised him as she
tucked a loose strand of dark-blonde hair behind her ear. Her hair was long and
pulled back in a pony-tail, giving him an unhindered view of a graceful neck
and an arresting face. For some reason he couldn’t look away.
Watching her eyes drop to his body, drinking him
in, Braden was intrigued. He was used to women looking at him. He was a big guy
and he worked out and he’d had no complaints from women. He wasn’t, however,
used to a woman appearing so consternated by the fact that she was checking him
out. He raised an eyebrow, curious about her.
“Yeah, I’m American.”
That
voice. He shifted in his seat. She really did have the sexiest
voice he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again. “Just visiting?” Braden
murmured.
“Nope.”
“Then you’re a student?”
Whatever she heard in his tone it made her
tense. Braden envied her casual, light clothing in this heat and thanked God
for throwing her in his path on a day so hot in Scotland it had caused the
American to wear those tiny shorts.
True, she wasn’t his usual type. Most of his
girlfriends, including his current girlfriend Holly, and his ex-wife Analise,
were tall, slender platinum blondes. The American was the opposite of every
woman he’d ever dated.
And yet… she was beyond appealing.
She had surprisingly large breasts for such a
delicately built woman—big boobs, wee waist, and another surprise were those
gorgeous legs of hers. They were shapely and long despite her small stature.
Hot blood rushed southwards.
Bloody
Nora.
When Braden finally dragged his eyes up to her
expressive face he noted the raised eyebrow. He’d been caught eating her up and
she did not look impressed. Amused, he grinned at her. Usually this would incur
a responding grin. Instead the brat rolled her eyes at him.
“I was a student,” she answered, and Braden’s
ears warmed to the purr of her dulcet voice. “I live here. Dual citizenship.”
“You’re part Scottish?”
She gave him a barely-there nod and seemed
intent to not look at him. He smiled inwardly, feeling anticipation he hadn’t
felt in a while, and definitely not over a woman. It was the anticipation of a
challenge. Women came quite easily to him and it certainly made life less
difficult. Life was stressful enough in business. But he couldn’t argue with
what this strange, inexplicable feeling toward the American.
He’d never felt instant attraction like it.
Braden eyed her and grew even more dangerously
hot at the idea of turning that willful glint in her stunning eyes soft with
need as he explored every inch of her.
He shifted in his seat again, disappointment
settling over him when he belatedly remembered he was seeing someone else.
Since he wasn’t the kind of man to ask for another woman’s number while he was
in a relationship that meant he’d have to ignore whatever was between him and
the American.
Bugger.
The timing was fucked.
He couldn’t have her. Eyeing her mouth, despite
knowing that conversation—or anything—was pointless, he found himself asking,
“What do you do now that you’ve graduated?”
She shot him a look out of the corner of her
eyes and it seemed to hold more than a hint of disdain. “What do you do? I
mean, when you’re not manhandling women into cabs?”
It occurred to Braden that a man knew he was
really bored with life when he got a kick out of a woman’s condescension. “What
do you think I do?”
“I’m thinking lawyer. Answering questions with
questions, manhandling…”
“I’m not
a lawyer. But you could be. I seemed to recall a question answered with a
question. And that,” he gestured to her full mouth, wondering how she’d taste,
“That’s a definite smirk.” His voice was thick with want and he knew she heard
it in the way her eyes flared as their gazes met.
Yeah, she felt the heat too.
The air in the cab was suddenly heavy with
sexual tension. An undeniable, incredible electricity that Braden really
fucking wanted to explore.
As awful as it was, he was cursing the existence
of Holly, his current girlfriend, to hell in that moment. What he had with
Holly wasn’t special. It was just fun. But it was exclusive.
Shit.
The American not only looked away but seemed to
deliberately lean her whole body away from him as she stared out at the passing
traffic. As he watched her attempt to create a distance between them with
silence, his eyes caressed the sharp sweep of her jawline and the smoothness of
her olive skin. She had great skin. Skin that told of her age, and it suddenly
occurred to him that the American was quite young, probably ages with Ellie. He
hadn’t realized at first because she had seemed attractively self-possessed.
Now she seemed uncomfortable… perhaps
inexperienced?
It should have put him off.
It didn’t.
Whoever she was, however she was, Braden was
intrigued.
He wanted to work her out.
“Are you shy?” He asked trying not to sound like
a condescending prick.
She turned to him with a bemused smile. “Excuse
me?”
Not shy then. He eyed her carefully. She wasn’t
as easy to read as he’d first thought. He liked that. “Are you shy?” he
repeated to be polite, already knowing the answer to that question was no. She
was something, but it wasn’t shy.
“Why would you think that?”
He decided to see just how self-possessed she
really was. “Most women would be taking advantage of my imprisonment in the
taxi with them—chew my ear off, shove their phone number in my face…as well as
other things.” His eyes instantly lowered to her lush breasts, letting her know
he thought they were well worthy of the attention.
Anticipating either a blush or a scowl when he
drew his eyes back to her face, Braden was taken aback to find her grinning at
him. Fuck. Her smile hit him with
more of an impact than her sexy body. She had one helluva sweet smile. “Wow,
you really think a lot of yourself.”
He grinned back. “I’m just speaking from
experience.”
“Well, I’m not the kind of girl who hands out
her number to a guy she just met.”
Even though he couldn’t ask for her number he
was immediately disappointed by her answer. He’d begun building an idea of who
she was in his head and prudish girl next door was definitely not it. “Ahh,” he
looked away. “You’re a no-sex-until-the-third-date, marriage-and-babies kind of
woman.” Not exactly his type.
“No, no, and no,” she answered, seeming
affronted by the idea. So affronted in fact that he suddenly wondered if the
opposite was true. Was he in the presence of that rare creature? A woman afraid
of commitment?
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“I’m not giving you my number.”
Unfortunately Braden couldn’t seduce her number
out of her. “I didn’t ask for it. And even if I wanted it, I wouldn’t ask for
it.” Fucking lie. “I have a
girlfriend.” Unfortunately, true.
Braden mentally slapped himself across the head for that ungentlemanly thought.
Holly was a good girl and deserved better than that.
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
“I have a
girlfriend, but I’m not blind. Just because I can’t do anything doesn’t mean
I’m not allowed to look.” A crying shame if you asked him. He wanted to look.
He wanted to look past the cynical eyes and through the sweet smile and find
out which one of them was her. Maybe she was both. Maybe she was neither. He
didn’t know. At all. And he wanted to. Jesus—
“Here’s good, thanks.”
What? His
fascination with her mystery was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt by her
direction to the driver. They weren’t at Dublin Street yet. They still had…
Braden looked outside. They were at Queen Street Gardens, only seconds from her
destination. And why was he panicking? She was off limits.
The driver pulled up to the curb and she handed
him fare and reached for the door.
“Wait,” Braden found himself saying.
She turned to him, her expression impatient.
“What?”
Braden sensed he had seconds here. He could
either tell her to take her money back and offer to pay for the entire cab fare
as he intended. Or he could ask her the one thing that had been itching at him
since they met.
“Do you have a name?”
She smiled and Braden automatically found
himself smiling with her. “Actually, I have two.”
What?
She jumped out of the cab and despite the loss
of her he found myself chuckling at her cool reply.
It was his own fault. He’d asked a smart woman
the wrong question.
Just as abruptly as she’d left him, Braden’s
amusement fled. He realized he’d probably never see her again. Now that really
was a crying shame. His father was right. His intuition was what made him a
successful businessman, and his intuition was telling him he’d just let a great
opportunity pass him by.
Swallowing his disappointment, Braden directed
the cabbie to turnabout and head toward his meeting… in an even worse fucking
mood than he’d started out in.
Are you hooked yet? Reading this makes me think it's time to go back and pick up my own copy of the book to re-read and fall back in love with these characters once again.
Coming Soon:
It's only about a month until this fun new title from Samantha Young will be available.
Pre-order Fight or Flight links:
About the Author:
Samantha Young is the New York Times, USA
Today and Wall Street
Journal bestselling author of adult contemporary romances, including
the On Dublin Street series
and Hero, as well as the New
Adult duology Into the Deep and Out of the Shallows. Every Little Thing, the second book in
her new Hart’s Boardwalk series,
will be published by Berkley in March 2017. Before turning to contemporary
fiction, she wrote several young adult paranormal and fantasy series, including
the amazon bestselling Tale of
Lunarmorte trilogy. Samantha’s debut YA contemporary novel The Impossible Vastness of Us was
published by Harlequin TEEN in ebook & hardback June 2017. Play On is an adult contemporary
romance and the first in a brand new series set in Scotland. Villain is a companion novella to
the New York Times bestselling romance HERO.
Samantha
has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award 2012 for Best Author and
Best Romance for On Dublin Street,
Best Romance 2014 for Before Jamaica
Lane, and Best Romance 2015 for Hero. On Dublin Street, a #1 bestseller
in Germany, was the Bronze Award Winner in the LeserPreis German Readers
Choice Awards for Best Romance 2013, Before
Jamaica Lane the Gold Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers
Choice Awards for Best Romance 2014 and Echoes of Scotland Street the Bronze Medal Winner for the
LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2015.
Samantha is
currently published in 30 countries and is a #1 international bestselling
author.