Happy Release Day! Excerpt and Giveaway Hard Glamour (Glamour #1) by Maggie Marr

Description:

A promise to keep….

Honoring her mother’s last wish, Lane Channing vows to follow her dreams. She takes the ‘big risk’ and leaves her small Kansas town behind and heads to LA, the city of dreams. She’s got a stellar job lined up, an old jeep, and 20 bucks to last her to her first paycheck. Her hopes shatter when she arrives to find her job’s been given to someone else. Now she’s broke and will soon be living on the streets if she doesn’t do something fast. Welcome to cutthroat – Lane is most certainly not in Kansas anymore.

On the cusp of success…

Dillon MacAvoy has one goal–to become a star–whatever it takes. Even if it means honing his bad-boy can’t-be-tamed-and-forever-single image. Besides the image isn’t far from the truth. Dillon cares only about his younger brother and his career. He’s on the brink of superstardom if he can just decide on the next right script. But for that, he needs a script reader he can trust.

In a strange twist of fate…

Lane Channing is Dillon’s last chance. If Lane lasts the summer without becoming MacAvoy’s latest conquest, she’s guaranteed a job in entertainment. No problem, as long as she can ignore the heat that pulses through her every time Dillon is in the room. After all, love and commitment with a sweet, hometown girl would only ruin the Dillon MacAvoy brand.

Author's Favourite Quotes

I was falling in love with Dillon MacAvoy. A love that could never be returned. I could have my summer, I could have him for a while, but the girl that would have him for forever—I knew for certain that girl wouldn’t be me. --Lane Channing

I turned off the jets of water and wrapped a towel around my waist, then stepped out of the shower and turned toward the steamed mirror. I wiped it clean and looked into that face of mine. The hard, cold eyes of a man who would never get the chance to love a good girl like Lane Channing stared back. Sometimes I hated that guy. --Dillon MacAvoy 

EXCERPT

My eyes fluttered open. I kicked my foot out from under the comforter on my bed. I’d had trouble falling asleep when I got back to the house. I flipped over my cell phone and glanced at the time—it was 2:07 a.m. and I was wide-awake. 

Kong lay curled up on the pillow beside me while Scorsese and Spielberg slept at the foot of my bed. Bernie lay lengthwise beside me like a human. I ran my hand across Bernie’s thick fur. My heart hurt. Last week I’d felt bad for Dillon. I’d felt bad that he was trapped in a horrible place between his parents and his brother. Parents who, from what it sounded like, wouldn’t accept Choo for who he was, but yet still wanted to be a part of Dillon’s life. 

But tonight? 

Tonight I didn’t feel bad for Dillon. I felt angry and hurt and shocked at how intense all my feelings were. There were two Dillons and I kept ping-ponging between them. There was the guy who’d humiliated me when I was lost and then made me feel embarrassed again tonight. Frustration spiked through my chest as the feeling of embarrassment flooded through me with the two memories. 

Then there was the other Dillon. The guy who’d rescued four dogs. The guy who smiled and gave me the keys to his car. The guy who was sexy as hell and seemed interested in what I had to say. That was the Dillon my heart hurt for. That was the Dillon I wanted to know and be around. That Dillon seemed to pop out, be wildly nice, and then immediately disappear. Maybe I was lucky that the sweet version of Dillon wasn’t around more. The jerky version I could work for and ignore. 

He wasn’t someone who wanted a relationship. Already, I’d seen him with a multitude of different women. Dillon MacAvoy wanted me to walk his dogs and read his scripts. I brushed a stray hair back from my forehead. Something about Dillon pressed hard against my heart. I was drawn to him. When he’d grabbed my arm tonight, heat had jolted through me. When he’d whispered in my ear, even with the awful words he said, I still couldn’t catch my breath with him so near. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel those giant hands on my body, stroking over me where no one had stroked before. 

“Oh, yessss.” 

A moan drifted up from the yard. When I’d gotten home, I’d taken two ibuprofen and pulled open my balcony doors before I’d gone to bed. I’d hoped the fresh air would cool my body and my mind. 

“Please, yesss.” 

My heart clenched and I scrunched my eyes closed. A hard, sick feeling lodged in my belly. The voice was female. There was only one man in this house who could cause a woman to moan like that. 

“Yes, please, Dillon. Please.” 

I didn’t want to hear this. I couldn’t stand to hear this. I slid my foot to the floor beneath my bed. I wouldn’t look. Looking would be so bad. I pressed forward across the floor to the balcony doors. I would pull the doors closed and then please, hopefully, I wouldn’t have to hear the things I definitely didn’t want to hear. 

I placed my hand on the knob of the door, but instead of pulling the door closed, my body moved forward. My heart accelerated as though it would burst through my ribs. What would I see? My foot stepped out on to the balcony. Every good part of me screamed don’t do it, don’t look down, but every part that was curious had to peer over the balcony. I had to see.

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About the author:

Maggie Marr grew up in the Midwest and made the move to Los Angeles to work in the movie business. She was a motion picture literary agent for ICM before becoming a full time writer. She's written for film and TV and ghostwritten for celebrities. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and children. 

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