Welcome to Excerpt Friday! Each Friday we’ll be featuring excerpts from new releases by our very own Fillies. So grab a cup of coffee and read on. And if you find you’re hooked by what you read (and we know you will be!) just click on the book cover to purchase the entire book.
From author Phyliss Miranda – THE TYCOON AND THE TEXAN
What in the blue blazes does a millionaire playboy do with an independent, spirited Texan when he wins her at a charity auction?
Come along on Nicodemus Dartmouth’s and McCall Johnson’s journey as they travel from LA up the California coast to Santa Barbara and through the Santa Ynez Valley before they end up at McCall’s family ranch in Texas, where Nick finds one surprise after another. From riding wild broncs to the local honky tonk, dancing to The Cotton Eyed Joe, Nick and McCall learn one thing about one another … they were more alike than either of them believed.
For two lucky commenters, I will give away a copy of my eBook The Tycoon and the Texan
Excerpt from Chapter One
“Nicodemus, you are being rude. And, for your information, we are serving pâte á chou and caviar,” Madeline said.
Not wavering, Nick continued, “I warned you from the start that even for charity the whole damn idea of auctioning off bachelorettes for dates was asinine. This proves it –”
“It proves nothing except you are the one who is being, as you so delicately called it–asinine.” Madeline punctuated each word with her best boarding school English.
“Why doesn’t everyone settle down?” Josie’s words pierced the air. “Mrs. Dartmouth. Nicodemus. Both of you, listen to me. We’re not getting anywhere.”
Silence engulfed the room. Only a low hum could be detected from the air conditioning duct. It seemed almost as if Josie had blown a whistle and sent the quarrelsome, twosome scurrying to the penalty box for time out.
“Then by damn –“ Nick’s deep-timbre voice was that of a man determined to remain in control.
“Nicodemus!” Madeline warned.
“Josie’s right. We’ve got bigger problems than those jerkass flowers. In less than eight hours the benefit begins, and we’re short one woman.”
“We can auction off only nineteen –” Josie spoke up.
“No!” In unison, Nick and Madeline responded.
This time Nick took charge. “We advertised twenty women, and by damn–sorry Mother, by damn, crap–I meant, oh hell, we’re going to have twenty. Not nineteen, not eighteen, but twenty. One. Two. Three.” Nick spoke with depth and authority that impacted the room in the same manner as his six-foot three-inch fram
“We can count,” his mother retorted.
“Just make sure that we have twenty women on that catwalk by eight o’clock. We’re in LA, and the last time I checked, this town’s overrun with beautiful women. So I don’t give a damn where you get her. Just make it happen,” Nick stormed.
“Why don’t you call that gold-digger, Lauren, dear? If you can find her, I am sure she would be more than willing to come to your aid,” his mother said in a crisp emphatic tone.
“If I recall, you made certain that she’d never speak to me again, much less do me or you a favor,” Nick’s voice cracked like a bullwhip.
He grabbed a bottle of Penta from an ice bucket. “Is anyone else thirsty?” He addressed the room, but only looked at McCall.
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