Traci Douglass & Bad Boys

HOW TO SEDUCE A BAD BOY

Melody Bryant has heard it all before. Sure, she's the epitome of the stereotype for a librarian. Loves order. Loves rules and deadlines. Loves books. But what she doesn't love is still being a virgin at twenty-four. Unfortunately, the only guy she's ever been interested in turned her down flat. And then left town. Eight. Years. Ago. Ugh.

Now her birthday is fast approaching and she just can't take it any longer. She's finding a guy before her birthday in five weeks or she's adopting two more cats and fully embracing becoming "the crazy cat lady."

But when her latest date ends in epic failure--everyone thinks of her as the "proper librarian," she realizes what she needs is to ruin her reputation. And she knows the perfect guy to help her: the baddest bad boy in town. This Army vet won't know what hit him...

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Excerpt

“Thanks for—” Nothing.

Melody Bryant barely had time to avoid getting her toes run over as her latest first date pulled away from the curb in a flurry of exhaust and squealing tires.

With a sigh, she trudged up the walkway to her quaint little bungalow on a quiet side street in Point Beacon, Indiana. She’d really thought this evening had been going well, too. Her date du jour had been Michael Bennett, owner of their tiny town’s only buy-here, pay-here used car emporium and last year’s winner of the chamber of commerce’s top entrepreneur award. And yes, maybe he had been a bit…smarmy—in that aggressive salesman sort of way—with no regard for personal space or breath mints, but still.

Shoulders slumped, Mel unlocked her front door and pushed inside, her fluffy Birman cat darting over to twine around her ankles. She tossed her stuff on the side table in the foyer, then bent to scratch the purring feline behind the ears. “Another one bites the dust, eh, Waldo?”

Waldo meowed, as if in sympathy.

After toeing off her cute red-and-white Mary Jane pumps, she grabbed her cell phone from her purse, then padded down the short hall to the kitchen to grab the canister of M&M’s she kept on her counter at all times. Mel balanced the large glass container on one hip as she proceeded into her open-style living room and plopped into the corner of the overstuffed beige sofa. She pried open the lid of the canister with one hand while hitting speed dial for her best friend with the other, then began sorting the candy into the colors she liked—blue, red, and, most especially, green.

Lilly Martin answered on the second ring. “How’d it go?”

“Not good.” Between popping candies into her mouth, Mel explained the events of her newest dating fail. “I mean, it started out fine. Dinner at Stubby’s Steakhouse, talking about our jobs, our goals, our dreams for the future. Then, of course, he went into all his hot librarian fantasies.”

“Ewww,” Lilly said, her shudder evident through the phone line. “That’s nasty.”

“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t heard it before.” She devoured another handful of M&M’s, then parroted Mike’s worst come-on. “You must have overdue books, honey, because you’ve got fine written all over you.”

Lilly snorted. “Nice. How about, ‘It’s not the size of the collection, it’s how you use it.’”

Mel giggled. “No, no. My all-time favorite was, ‘Good thing I’ve got my library card, ’cause I’m totally checking you out.’”

They laughed so hard and long, Mel’s stomach hurt by the time she stopped. In the silence that followed, however, harsh reality returned. Given her lack of boyfriend and no prospects on the horizon at the ripe old age of twenty-four, she felt terminally boring and doomed to be stuck in the “friend zone” for eternity. “Seriously, though, what the heck am I missing here?”

Lilly sighed. “Besides a hot man in your bed?”

“Exactly.” Mel straightened slightly to run the fingers of her free hand through Waldo’s thick grayish-white fur. “Tell me where to find one of those super studs and I’ll be all over him.”

“Cool your jets there, Maverick.” Lilly chuckled. “Have you stopped to consider maybe you’re coming across too eager? Most guys like a challenge. Then there’s the whole nightmare of your wardrobe.”

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe?” Mel scowled down at her calf-length red pencil skirt and cream-colored twinset. The pearls might be a bit much, but they’d belonged to her grandmother.

“Nothing. If you’re ninety and your name’s June Cleaver.”

Mel slammed the lid back on the canister and set it on the coffee table. “I don’t look like June Cleaver. I dress for comfort. Plus, it gets cold in the library, so I wear layers to keep warm.”

“Good, because those cardigans are the only things that’ll be keeping you toasty on the long winter nights ahead.” Lilly’s tone held a hint of pity, which set Mel’s hackles rising. Her best friend had no room to talk. She went through men like tissues, never seeming to stay with one guy too long. Like Goldilocks, no one was just right—too short, too tall, too fat, too thin, talks too much, doesn’t talk enough. Mel had begun to wonder if there was a man alive perfect enough for her best friend. Though there had been that one night, right before Mel’s older brother, James, had left for basic training. She’d thought there might have been something between them, but Lilly had always denied it and Mel wasn’t about to ask James about his love life because…ewww. Anyway, this conversation was about Mel’s romantic adventures, or lack thereof.

“Look,” Lilly said, jarring Mel out of her thoughts. “All I’m saying is it wouldn’t kill you to show a bit of skin, maybe play down the prim.”

Arms crossed, Mel cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear. “I’m not prim, I’m classic. Besides, I don’t want to be with a guy who only wants me if I pretend to be something I’m not.”

“I’m not asking you to change who you are,” Lilly said. “Just highlight your assets.”

My assets? Mel glanced down at her ample bust and wide hips, then at the M&M’s container beckoning her to finish it off. Lilly was right, darn it, and it was all so unfair. Her twenty-fifth birthday was coming up in a month—August 14, to be exact—and she was still a virgin.

Sure, maybe being a virgin in your mid-twenties wasn’t exactly a predicament equivalent to say, a raging case of Ebola, but it felt pretty darned close to Mel. Especially tonight. Most likely, her lingering maidenhead was the reason for her recent bout of dating desperation—and the only sane excuse Mel could come up with for considering born-to-be-wild Lilly’s advice.

After all, keeping it classy sure hadn’t worked well in the love department thus far.

Honestly, Mel’s problems with the men of Point Beacon had started clear back in high school. From the day she’d turned sixteen and her parents had finally allowed her to date, all the local guys thought she was too type A, too high-maintenance, too “good girl.”

Maybe that was true. She exhaled slowly and collapsed back against the couch cushions, feeling defeated. She ran the best dang library in central Indiana yet couldn’t seem to make it past a first date. Let alone find a man to make all her wicked desires and fantasies come true.

It was frustrating. It was pitiful. It was ridiculous.

And it was all Adam Foster’s fault.

Mel wouldn’t be in this pristine mess now if her older brother’s best friend had slept with her the night she’d propositioned him eight years ago. But no. Adam had to be all noble and heroic and tell her she was special and should wait for the right guy to come along.

“…and what you need to do is get rid of this good-girl image you’ve got looming over you like a shroud.” Lilly’s words jolted Mel back to the present. Perhaps her best friend was right. She’d been good until now. Maybe it was time to temper the sweet with a bit of spice.

It was bad enough her parents constantly hounded her these days about giving them grandkids. Now the townsfolk were chiming in, too. Today, for instance, she’d been walking home from work and old Gus MacMillan, the cantankerous owner of Point Beacon Hardware, had stopped sweeping his sidewalk to ask Mel when she was going to “get hitched and have babies.”

Then again, he might’ve been trying to rile her up. She and Gus weren’t on the best terms lately since she’d chewed him out last week about getting his library card, then not using it. Still, her reproductive activities, or lack thereof, were none of his business.

Mel sighed and closed her eyes, focusing on a solution.

What she needed was direction. An achievable course of action to lose her virginity by her twenty-fifth birthday—five short weeks from now.

In the end, she really only had one man in mind for the job.

A tall order, but not impossible, given that Adam was back in Point Beacon following two tours in the army. Mel had stopped by his body shop under the guise of scheduling maintenance for her car, to see if Adam still looked the same. He did—all tall, dark, and tantalizingly unavailable. But he hadn’t so much as glanced her way. Then she’d ended up missing her bogus appointment at his garage because of a delivery snafu at the library. She’d yet to speak one word to the guy since his return, even though he lived just down the road. Still, each night she’d hear the sound of his motorcycle, rumbling past her house after he got off work, and her knees went wobbly picturing gorgeous bad boy Adam with all that roaring power between his thighs.

“Uh, I need to go, Lils.”

“Wait.” Her best friend’s tone grew suspicious. “What are you going to do?”

The familiar sound of his Harley-Davidson grew louder in the distance, and adrenaline swamped Mel’s system, causing her heart rate to triple. Adam Foster was on his way home, and her future suddenly looked a whole lot brighter. “I’ve got a plan. Talk to you later.”

Mel ended the call without saying goodbye, tossed her phone on the coffee table, then headed down the hall toward her front door, doing a quick check of her reflection in the foyer mirror. Same petite figure. Same long brown hair. Same big brown eyes. Tonight, though, her gaze sparkled with new determination. She wasn’t the besotted, naive girl Adam had left behind eight years ago. Now she was a successful woman with a good job and a home of her own.

She was ready.

Or not.

She might’ve overstated the whole “having a plan” part, but it was too late now.

She’d flag him down, then take things from there. Improvise. Be wild.

Head held high, Mel walked outside and stood on the sidewalk in front of her bungalow, waiting until the bright halogen beam of his motorcycle headlight approached down the street, then waved her arms frantically.

Let Project Seduce Adam Foster begin.

~ ~ ~

USA Today Bestselling Author Traci Douglass writes fiction bursting with romance and action, usually mixed with a healthy portion of fantasy, urban edge and/or snark. Her stories feature sizzling heroes with quick wits and dark pasts and smart, independent heroines who always give as good as they get.

She's an active member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Indiana Romance Writers of America (IRWA), and the International Thriller Writers (ITW), and holds a Master of Fine Arts Degree in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University.

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Previous GLIAS Interviews

THE Q&A

ANGI: What story have you gotten lost in recently?

TRACI:  Oh, two actually. I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of KJ Charles newest release (due out on 1/30) called Any Old Diamonds. It’s an m/m romance set in 1895 featuring a jewel thief and a duke’s second son whose looking to exact revenge on his spiteful father. The second book I just finished last night was The Chateau by Tiffany Reisz. It’s the latest installment in her Original Sinners erotic romance series and features my forever book boyfriend, Kingsley Edge.

ANGI: Favorite field trip?

TRACI: Hmm. In school, you mean? Probably when I was in junior choir and we’d take our yearly “tour” trips. One year we went to Detroit and Windsor, Canada. Another time we went to Chicago. Imagine a busload of 13 and 14 year old girls with only three or four adult chaperones for several days. Yep. Good times! LOL. At least from my perspective. From the chaperones? Not so much, I’m sure.

ANGI: Daffy Duck or Donald Duck?

TRACI: Daffy.

ANGI: What’s your favorite thing about your book’s hero?

TRACI: Adam’s had a rough past, and he’s a bit of a player, but man. He’s got such a good heart and really strives to be honorable, especially where Mel (my heroine) is concerned.

ANGI: High Heels or Hiking Boots?

TRACI: Where do sneakers fit in?

ANGI: Surf or Turf?

TRACI: Surf, definitely.

ANGI: Wild Flower or Roses?

TRACI: Any kind of flowers really. Love them all.

ANGI: Biography or History?

TRACI: Both? LOL.

ANGI’s GOTTA ASK:  SHOW ME YOUR SHOES  

TRACIE’s GOTTA ANSWER:   Boots. Snowed 4+ inches here yesterday and I just came in from shoveling. J

UP NEXT for TRACI:

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…and complete his family.

After losing her mother to a hereditary illness, trauma nurse Wendy Smith vowed never to risk having a family of her own. So acting on her instant attraction to sexy single dad Dr. Tom Faber is a definite no! But through her unexpected connection with his daughter, Wendy grows closer to Tom and their chemistry intensifies…along with her longing for her own family—with him!

Read a little, Buy the book

PREVIOUSLY RELEASED by TRACI:

ONE NIGHT WITH AN ARMY DOC

Is one night enough…
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Traveling to Alaska to film the latest episode of her TV show is just what brilliant diagnostician Dr. Molly Flynn needs. It’s the perfect escape from her family’s expectations. Until she clashes with privacy-loving former army doc Jacob Ryder over her patient’s care! Only, as friction turns into flirtation, can Molly trust that Jake sees the real her and loves her—just the way she is?
READ A LITTLE, BUY THE BOOK

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