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About the author:
Roxie Roth is the pen name of an oversexed young woman who enjoys DIY shows, looking at houses she can never afford, snacking on dark chocolate, and making a fool of herself trying to pet stray cats. She writes erotica, romance, and supernatural romance novels, novellas, and short stories.
What inspired you to write your book?
I liked the idea of taking a tempestuous relationship full of unresolved sexual tension from hate to love over the course of one wild night. It was a lot of fun just jumping in with these characters.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“You know what your problem is, little Troublemaker?” Zack finally shot at her as she rounded the side of one of the villas and head down the path to the beach. He followed her, and she rolled her eyes.
“I don't have a problem! You do!” she shot at him over her shoulder, steadying herself on the stone wall that lined the path to the beach.
“Yeah, and that problem is you! Your problem is you're tired of playing nice all the time!” Zack snapped.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she whipped around to face him, with his stupid long hair and his dumb, dreamy blue eyes, and his broad shoulders, and big hands, and that idiotic mouth that never shut up. She felt the heat flash up her spine as she glared at him.
“Take that back! I've never played nice once in my entire life and you know it!”
“Sure you haven't,” Zack said sarcastically, and scrunched his nose at the same time—a combination that made her throat tighten. Her fists clenched, red nails digging into her palms. “I've been watching you.”
“I know you have. You can't keep your eyes off of me,” she snapped, brow arching. It was the truth and they both knew it. How often had she found his gaze drifting toward her the last week? And how often had she said something nasty to him just to rile him up? Aiden was right, she'd been baiting him all week.
It would have been less satisfying if it hadn't worked every single time.
His tongue ran along the inside of his lower lip and she felt something hot and wanting go through her. It was like a cyclone. Her skin buzzed and she felt more heat expand through her chest. He took a step forward.
“Same to you,” he said, cocking his head at her, brows rising. “I think you like what you see.”
“I think you're a cocky, smug, arrogant little shit!”
“And I think you're bored of playing the girl next door for your parents and your brother. I remember a time when you were the wildest party girl in Los Angeles, and now look at you. Giving toasts and getting facials with your sister-in-law. Whom you don't even like!”
“I like Samantha,” she lied. Zack laughed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, when she's not acting like a Hallmark card come to life.”
“Which is always. But of course, you can't pick fights with her because it'll upset your family…so…” He gestured to himself.
“You think that's why I've been picking fights with you?”
“That's part of it. You're always going at me whenever you can, and I think it's high time we both stop pretending to know why that is,” he said with a nod, and then grinned savagely.
“Because I can't stand you.”
“And you want to fuck me so bad that it pisses you off.”
She stared at him. He stared at her. She could see him daring her to deny it, just daring her to.
“You think I want to fuck you?” she said in a very calm, very hushed voice. Everything inside of her seemed to stop, to wait.
“You,” she said, advancing on him, her finger jabbing into his chest, “arrogant—”
Zack laughed, and swiped her hand away. “You already called me that.”
“—Self-important—” Jab. Jab. “—Immature—” Jab. Jab.
“Sexy!” he interjected as she jabbed at him again. “Don't forget sexy!”
“You're not sexy! You're—you're—” But she didn't have the words. Zack swiped her hand away again and caught her around the waist, surprising her. He pulled her close, practically yanking her against his chest. She caught herself with both hands on his shoulders, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Dying to kiss you,” he finished for her, leaning in, his gaze searching hers. Her pulse jumped buildings in a single bound, pounding in her ears as she lifted up on tiptoe almost immediately. “But only if you want me to, Troublemaker.”
Her teeth scored her bottom lip for a moment, seeing the out for what it was. She could push him away, save herself some dignity here and never admit what they both knew. She glanced at his mouth, at those gorgeous lips that had been the bane of her existence for far too long.
“I like it when you call me that,” she said and then slammed her mouth to his.