Book Spotlight: The Bridesmaid and the Hurricane by Kelly Maher

Jul 6, 2017 by

Book Spotlight: The Bridesmaid and the Hurricane by Kelly Maher

 

A one-weekend stand over a year ago, and now they’re coworkers…

Being a woman in TV is hard enough, but when the boss is trying to derail Radhika O’Leary’s career from behind the scenes, she has to make sure every aspect of her work—and her life—stands up to scrutiny.

Of course, the double standard is alive and well and Malcolm Jones, the broadcast meteorologist known as “Colm” to his friends and “The Hurricane Hottie” to his fangirls, knows that fame can hurt just as much as it helps. When Colm moves to DC, he’s excited to work with Radhika—her professional reputation is sparkling, and so are the kisses they shared that one weekend over a year ago when he was in town covering a blizzard.

But when Radhika is paired up with Colm for a project, all she sees is a looming storm over her carefully constructed career. Sparks still fly between the two journalists, and if they’re not careful, lightning might strike and alter the course of their lives forever.

 

Purchase Links:

Amazon – http://amzn.to/2s43VSd

iBooks – http://apple.co/2sLOOe7

Kobo – http://bit.ly/2sM9UZx

Nook – http://bit.ly/2snbSm3

 

Excerpt:

He stretched his arms over his head as he watched Marcus and one of his friends build up the fire. It had finally gotten dark and cool enough, so everyone had pulled their chairs in closer. A couple of Kari’s friends had already bailed, but Tracy and the other one were still there. They were sitting across from him and Radhika, whispering to each other and periodically looking over at them.

Colm avoided catching their eye, but he was smart enough not to completely ignore them. Any time Radhika had gone into the house to use the bathroom or whatever, Kari or one of the other ladies at the party had gone in with her. Tracy and the crew had left her alone for the most part, but there was enough of a mean-girl vibe about them that he wouldn’t trust them even half as far as he could throw them. He still wondered why Kari kept them around as friends.

Speaking of his sister, she came back outside after changing Nya into pajamas. His niece looked wiped, but she was also carrying a bag of marshmallows with her. Kari had a box of graham crackers and a pack of
chocolate bars in her other hand. Apparently, Nya had managed to talk her way into some s’mores. All the better for him. Kari sat down next to Marcus handing him the crackers and chocolate, and he passed her a
metal skewer with three ends.

Colm patted Radhika on the shoulder. He felt the muscles tense for a moment, then relax. The temptation to leave his hand there was great. Getting her to snuggle up to him when she’d first come outside had him
feeling as if something clicked into place in his universe. Not the best thought to have when she had defined them as platonic friends only. “I’ll be right back. Want some s’mores?”

She sat up and looked around. “Hell, yeah. Where?”

He laughed. “We’ve got to make them. Hold on.”

Marcus looked up from the fire when he came over. Without even asking, he picked up and held out another skewer.

Colm took it. “Thanks.”

“Give Kari a second to open the marshmallows.”

“Got them.” She passed over a handful to Colm and then plopped one on the skewer she held.

Colm walked back to Radhika and handed her the marshmallows. “How many do you want?”

“One at a time until I’m full or your sister and brother-in-law run out of supplies. If I’d known there was going to be a fire like this, I would have brought my stash as well.”

“Love s’mores, do you?”

“They’re one of my favorite desserts. I made sure that I would have a gas stove so I could make them in winter.”

Colm paused in the middle of skewering the marshmallow he’d taken. “You made sure you had a gas stove just so you could make s’mores?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t you?”

“S’mores are for making over a fire. The smoke adds flavor.”

“S’mores over fires are the best, but if you can’t build a fire in your condo, like I can’t, a natural gas burner is the next best thing. Believe me, the last thing you want to make s’more over is a Sterno can. That leaves a foul taste.”

He watched her as he handed over the skewer. “You still ate them, didn’t you?”

“Yep.” She was focused on roasting the marshmallow over the fire. Her technique was pristine. She didn’t let any hot spots develop, and when the marshmallow appeared ready to catch fire, she blew it out. He always appreciated watching a master, no matter the skill. A small plate with graham crackers and chocolate bits made their way around the circle to them. Colm took more than a few and put them on the plate he’d cleaned earlier, but hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet. Radhika held out her hand. “Cracker.”

He passed it to her with a piece of chocolate on it. She glanced down and nodded. She pulled the marshmallow, perfectly browned and sagging on the tongs of the skewer, back from the fire and placed it on top of the bottom half of the sandwich. He reached over with another cracker half and placed it on top of the marshmallow, holding it in place until she reconfigured her fingers to hold the sweet sandwich together as she pulled the skewer out. The glide of her fingers against his set heat coursing through his system. She scraped what melted mallow she could off onto the cracker and then handed him the skewer. “Thanks.”

“It’s a pleasure to watch a master at work.”

“Girl Scouts. We know our s’mores.”

“I thought you knew cookies.”

“How do you think the cookie thing got started?” She bit into the dessert and the look on her face wasn’t that far from what he remembered when she orgasmed, and he’d seen that often enough in the  two nights they’d spent together. He shifted in his seat as he felt his cock starting to fill. He turned back to the fire and focused on roasting his own marshmallow.


Radhika could have slapped him that first day and stayed far away, but she’d been professional, and he’d treated her the same way. He would have anyway, but still. They knew each other. Intimately. He blew out  a breath. He needed to get a handle on this…whatever it was.

 

About the author:

Foiled in her attempts to pursue a career in Forensic Anthropology due to a fatal incomprehension of calculus, Kelly turned to a life of telling people where to go, AKA librarianship. She then took another page out of her idol Indiana Jones’ playbook and renamed herself after the dog, writing tales of romance of varying heat levels and erotica. She currently splits her time working on new writing projects and at the day job in a federal library in Washington, DC.

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