THREE BLIND DATES is
finally here!!!! I'm so excited for this release, and if you read my last
newsletter, you know why. This is was such a fun book to write and I can't wait
to see who you choose!
PURCHASE HERE-->
Blurb:
"Good Morning Malibu, it’s another beautiful day
on the west coast! I'm Noely Clark, your host: and I'm in the market for love…”
When the publicity team of the new local restaurant, Going
in Blind, began their search for a hot, local celebrity to promote the wildly
popular eatery, they couldn’t have found a better person than me.
Outgoing? Check.
Single? Check.
Open to finding love? Check.
I signed up immediately.
A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule,
I've found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems
too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very
different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for
certain . . .
I’m in big trouble.
Good Morning Malibu,
I'm Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.
The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel,
or the jock.
EXCERPT:
NOELY
“Noely,
my office. Now.”
The
slam of my producer’s metal door echoes through the set, shaking the blaring
lights hanging above me.
“Yikes,
that doesn’t sound good,” Dylan, my co-host, says with a slight crease in her
brow. Looking behind her, she eyes the door Kevin, our producer, flew through
on what seemed like a rampage. “I think you might have poked the bear.”
“Seems
that way.” I look at the door, nerves starting to shake my coffee hand.
“What
do you think it is this time?”
This
time . . . Yeah, this isn’t my first offense.
I
wrack my brain for what I’ve done in the last twenty-four hours that could land
me in Kevin’s office.
“It
could be a plethora of things.”
Like
I said, not my first offense. If I wasn’t so loved by the viewers, I’m almost
positive Kevin would have fired me three months in on the job. But two years later
I’m still the youngest co-host for a morning show in the country. Maybe my
youth is the thing getting me in trouble . . . I do tend to push the limits on
what’s acceptable in Kevin’s eyes.
Dylan
looks me over and pokes my boob. “Maybe it’s your dress you wore today. It’s
really low-cut.”
I
adjust the straps that continue to pull apart, giving my boobs their own
personal morning show. “Carla in wardrobe said it was fine.”
“Carla
also thinks conservative dressing is wearing a bra over a T-shirt, so you can’t
take her word for it.” Dylan thinks for a second. “Maybe it’s because you said
penis on air this morning.”
“I
can say penis.” Ehh . . . can’t I? I make a mental note to look over the list
of words I can’t say on air again. “It’s not like I said cock or throbbing man
sword. I used the medical term. Penis. That’s legit.”
“Yeah,
about a guy who was jogging by you this morning. You said his penis was swaying
like the wrecking ball in Miley Cyrus’s music video and he needed to wear man
panties rather than free-ballin’ it.”
I
chuckle and shake my head. “I mean . . . women in Malibu have to be warned. I’m
lucky I was able to swerve away from such an attack. I could have been bruised
if that thing caught me in the arm. Bruised, Dylan. BRUISED!”
Dylan
rolls her eyes just as Kevin pops out of his office and grips the doorway, his
bald brow spitting fire in my direction. “Noely, what the hell do you not
understand about the word now? That doesn’t mean when you feel like
it, it means right fucking now.”
Oh.
Crap.
“Yep,
sorry.” I scramble to stand in my ridiculously tall heels and cringe at Dylan,
who is covering her mouth and chuckling at my less than graceful attempt to
stand. “Be right there, bossman. Just . . . one . . . second,” I grunt,
righting my shoes. Brushing my skirt over my legs and with my head held high, I
walk into his office where I quietly shut the door, not wanting to make more of
a scene than necessary.
“Sit.”
Kevin points to a chair in front of his desk with the pencil in his hand. “And
if you know what’s good for you, keep your mouth shut.”
Okay,
this could be about the penis or the dress, but then again, I’ve said vagina on
air before and that didn’t seem to get the same reaction. And I’ve worn worse
on the show. This has to be something else. Something I’m not thinking of.
Something that—
“Explain
this.” A white CD case is tossed onto Kevin’s desk in front of me. He leans
back in his chair and bites on his pencil, waiting for an answer.
I
eye the CD and start to panic. What the hell is on that? In a digital
world, where anyone could record anything, I’m actually quite terrified.
It
could be as innocent as me scratching my boob while going for a walk, or it
could be . . . oh, hell.
Please
don’t let it be a sex tape. Please don’t let it be a sex tape.
And
before you start judging me for even considering that CD to be a sex tape, let
me tell you, there are creeps out in this world who will do things like hide
cameras in teddy bears kept on their bedroom chair. I could have been filmed
without my knowledge. That’s the only way it could be a sex tape, as I’m not
stupid enough to do one on my own. I was a journalism major, after all, but I
did date some questionable men.
Very
questionable . . .
There
was Roofus the Doofus with the coifed bouffant and gold tooth. Charlie Three
Nips with the penchant to say supposedly in every sentence. And Ryan Big Beard
who asked me to condition and braid his wiry man hair every night we were
together. The first time was endearing; the second, third, and fourth were just
plain creepy.
Clearly
not winners, clearly the kind of creeps who could pull a stunt like this.
Especially Charlie. You can NEVER trust a man with three nipples. Write that
down, ladies: three nipples is a no-go, even if they are fun to touch. Love
tweaking that nubbin.
My
hands fidget on my lap, my nerves kicking up a wave of “oh, Gods” in my head
and not the good kind. I bite my bottom lip and look at the tape, trying to
telepathically read what’s been burned on it. “Eh . . . is it my audition
tape?” I ask cutely with a smile.
“No,”
Kevin deadpans, not falling for my charms.
At
least I know I can say penis and not get in trouble, so that’s one thing to
celebrate. And hooray, this dress is A-okay. Gives self a mental thumbs up.
Clearing
my throat, I sit back in my seat and steady my shoulders. “Well then, I’m
afraid I’m just as lost as you are.”
“I’m
not lost, I know exactly what’s on that CD.”
Gulp.
Oh God, I’m being blackmailed. I just know it.
Swallowing
hard, I politely ask while daintily running my finger along his desk, “Care to
share?”
“Does
this ring a bell?” Talking in a small girl voice—I think he’s trying to
impersonate me and it’s horrendous—he says, “Hi, my name is Noely Clark, I’m a
spicy yet mature twenty-seven-year-old who enjoys a good burger and milkshake
combination, and I’m a morning show host on Good Morning, Malibu, and I’m
looking for love.”
Oh.
Shit.
“Ha,
ha.” I nervously laugh, my eyes looking everywhere but at Kevin.
How
the hell did he find that tape? The only people who knew about it were Carlton,
Dylan, and the girl who helped make it. I swear to the freckle on my right
breast if Dylan left that lying around her office last night I’m going to kill
her. Like Jason with a chainsaw kind of murder.
“Can
you please tell me why you’re using company resources to ‘find love’?”
I
want it to be known, I don’t like the way he condescendingly used air quotes
when he said find love, but I’m smart enough to realize that’s not something I
should bring up at this moment in time.
“And
don’t lie to me, Noely. You’re already on thin ice with me.”
Crap.
I
bite the inside of my cheek, not wanting to get into this with Kevin since he’s
the last man who would understand where I’m coming from, but I can’t think of
any other reason other than the truth, something apparently he wants to hear.
Let
it be known, when he rolls his eyes at me, I really don’t want to tell him.
Adjusting
myself in my chair, I slip my hands under my thighs and lean slightly forward.
“Have you heard of Going in Blind, the new restaurant in town?”
Squinting
at me in observation, Kevin shakes his head. His face isn’t purple yet, so I’m
going to assume he’s more curious than angry right now. I better deliver.
“Well,
I was approached by their public relations consultant a few days ago. It’s a
restaurant where the sole focus is blind dates. They have an app where you
create a profile and they match you with other individuals of your likeness.
You then attend a blind date with them in the restaurant. You’re required to
put together a dating video for your profile so the matchmakers can get a feel
for your personality, and to also see if you’re taking the program seriously.
They didn’t want it to be a hookup app. Since I’m notoriously single, they thought
I might want to give it a try.”
With
the eraser of the pencil pushed against his chin now, Kevin nods and then sits
forward. “And you used company resources to create the video.”
“Well
. . . I wanted good lighting.”
Kevin
rolls his eyes.
See,
told you he would.
“Was
that not okay?”
“Depends.”
There is a glint in his eyes. I don’t think I’m going to like what comes out of
his mouth next. “Company materials and resources were used to make this video,
which means, that video is company property.”
How
many “oh God” moments can one person have in the matter of five minutes? I’m
guessing I’m over my limit.
“Are
you going to say what I think you’re going to say?”
You
know that smile the Grinch gets when he gets an idea, an awful idea, a
wonderfully awful idea? Yeah, that’s the kind of grin Kevin is sporting right
about now.
He
tosses the pencil on his desk and places both his hands behind his head,
striking a very casual and confident pose. “Looks like we’re going to have a
new segment for the show.”
Yep,
exactly what I thought he was going to say.
“Going
in Blind with Noely Clark. I think it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Mentally
I turn my nose up at the title. I think it’s a horseshit segment title.
Entirely too long and nothing rhymes.
Needing
to try to nip this in the bud before it turns into an on-screen dating session
with yours truly, I lift my chin and say, “You know, Kevin, I respect your idea
to spice things up on the show. If you’re not coming up with new ideas then the
show goes stale, so kudos to you.” I give him a small clap with just the tips
of my fingers. “But I’m going to have to suggest you nix the dating segment.
Don’t you think it reads a little desperate? Kind of, you know, trying too
hard?”
“Not
even a little. With sweeps coming up, I think it’s the perfect idea.”
I
move my hands up and down as if I’m weighing two objects and scrunch my lips to
my nose. “Or . . . how about running that dog in the bellhop costume segment
again? I mean, that was a real winner.” I chuckle and shake my head. “How do
you tip a dog bellhop? With dog-lar bills.” I slap my knee. “Oh, that is just
pure comedy right there.”
“Or
we do the dating segment, and you listen to what I’m saying.”
Wanting
to reason with him, I fold my hands on my lap and use my most sincere begging
voice. “Kevin, I really don’t feel comfortable putting my dating life out
there. It’s been rough as it is, trying to find someone to settle down with.
That’s why I wanted to try this program, so I could be matched with someone, through
a trusted system, without all the nonsense of dealing with my celebrity and
hectic schedule. I truly want to find someone, and I’d rather not splash it all
over television.”
Rocking
ever so slightly in his chair, Kevin rubs his jaw, studying me before he puts
one hand on his desk. “Let me know what the company says about your video and
what the next steps are. I look forward to hearing about your progress with
this program. Also, put me in touch with the publicist you worked with. I want
to see if they want to pay for some marketing. Let’s reconvene next Friday.” He demonically winks at
me. “Happy dating.”
And
with that I’m dismissed. Looks like my sincere begging got me nowhere. I stand
from my chair and head for Kevin’s office door when he stops me. “And don’t
play the woe is me card, Noely. You’re getting away with murder on
this one, and you know it. Company property and resources are not to be messed
around with for personal gain. Consider your dating segment paying your
penance.” He clears his throat and says, “See you tomorrow morning.”
Squeezing
my eyes shut, knowing he’s right even though I hate him for it, I see myself
out of his office and head to where I left Dylan, in our director’s chairs.
I
slump down in my chair, kick off my heels, and place my arms on the armrests.
“Were
you fired?” Dylan asks, sounding very concerned.
I
sigh heavily. “No. If I was fired, I doubt I would be hanging out in my chair.”
“Some
people handle termination differently.” She looks around and asks, “So what
happened? Was it the dress or because you said penis?”
“Neither.”
Turning my head, I lean it against the flimsy back of my chair and ask, “What
did you do with that dating tape yesterday?”
“I
put it in your mailbox, why?”
I
blow out a frustrated breath. “Did you put it in mine or did you put it in
Kevin’s like that last time you put a coupon for buy-one-get-one-free FroYo at
Penguin’s Palace?”
Dylan
chews on the side of her cheek as she thinks. “You know, I can’t remember now.
Why, does this have to do with the video?”
“Yes!”
I throw my hands in the air exasperated. “That dickhead of a producer of ours
is forcing—”
“Best
keep your voice down, Noely. You won’t want people to hear you,” Kevin says,
walking by with his briefcase in hand, causing my entire body to redden from
embarrassment. “And for the record, don’t say penis again on air and burn that
dress. If you wear it again, you will be fired. We are a morning show, not a
gentleman’s club in Ventura. See you tomorrow, ladies.” He waves over his head, leaving me
in a wake of utter humiliation.
“Oh
my God,” I mutter, my hands over my face now.
“That
was embarrassing,” Dylan points out. She’s five years older than me, is married
with two kids, but I swear, there are times when I feel more put together than
she is.
Speaking
through my hands, wanting to get this all out in the open, I say, “Kevin found
the tape, and since I used company resources to make it, it was either fire me
or make me use the tape as a sweeps segment.”
“Noooooo,”
Dylan drags out, with a smile. I have a strong urge to wipe that smile right
off her face.
“Yes.
And do you know what’s really terrible about all of this? I decided to join
this program because I really wanted to meet someone. I wasn’t doing this just
to do it. I was doing this, hoping to actually find someone to settle down
with.”
“Who
says you still can’t do that?”
“Come
on, who are you kidding?” I sit up in my chair and level with Dylan. “Kevin is
going to turn this into an entire production. I can see it now: cameras on my
dates, zooming in on a possible good-night kiss, interviews of unsuspecting
guys. No one is going to want to be with me while going through all of that.”
Dylan
shrugs. “I don’t know. If the men in this program are as serious as they claim
to be, they might understand the predicament you’re in. Plus, think about all
the women you can encourage by taking a leap and joining this blind date
restaurant project. You might become an inspiration.”
And
that’s so Dylan. To put a positive spin on something that seems so bleak.
A
dating inspiration? I could jump on board with that.
My Review:
What a
ridiculously fun read!!
Noely is a
local morning talk show host, looking for love. She signs up for a blind dating
service who matches people with their "perfect" partner, and ends up
having to air her experiences as part of her morning show! The three suitors
were all unique: The Suit, The Rebel, and The Jock, and had you rooting for
them to be the one! Hilarious dialogue, great side characters, little angst and
a great story - exactly what you can expect from Meghan. I can't wait for the
other two books in this series. #TeamRebel
Though known
primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances
(including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on
the New York Times bestseller list,
JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres
including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban
fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.
