Bookalicious Babes Blog is super thrilled to hold this exclusive sneak peek into Emma Hart’s upcoming release MIXED UP!!!
Read on for everything you need to know about Mixed Up, where you can PRE ORDER, read the EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT, make a DELICIOUS COCKTAIL inspired by Mixed up. Annnd if that’s not enough we have a SIGNED PAPERBACK GIVEAWAY for MIXED UP, open INTERNATIONALLY!!
Hiring my brother’s best friend was not on my to-do list.
Neither was he.
Expanding my dirty cocktail bar into food was supposed to be easy, except finding a chef in my little town of Whiskey Key is anything but.
Until Parker Hamilton comes home—bringing his Michelin starred chef’s hat with him.
He has no work. I need someone like him in my new kitchen.
There’s just one problem: I hate his cocky, filthy-mouthed, sexy-as-hell guts.
Even if I might want him. Just a little…
Working for my best friend’s sister? Not on my to-do list.
She’s another story.
Whiskey Key was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, except I haven’t reached the heights I have by lying in a hammock drinking cocktails. So when Raven Archer is desperate for a chef, I offer up my skills.
I’m bored. She needs what I can give her.
Except there’s a problem: I’ve always hated her.
Her and her big, blue eyes, sassy mouth, and killer curves.
If only I didn’t want her.
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“I still don’t understand why you have those vulgar cocktail names.”
I raised my eyebrow. I knew her bar was called Dirty, but I thought that was just because she could make a mean martini.
Her cheeks flushed light pink. It was barely noticeable through her tanned skin. “Because it’s different,” she replied. “It gets people talking, and that brings business. Not to mention that three-quarters of my menu is original, and people love that.”
“Yes, but what’s that new one you just added?”
Ryan grinned. “The Slutwhisperer.”
I smirked. I couldn’t fucking help it.
“It’s a horrible word,” Alexandra sniffed.
“I’d like a slutwhisperer.” Raven and Ryan’s grandfather shuffled out onto the porch. “Do you think it would spice up my life?”
“Maybe,” Raven answered. “But I’d wait until the reunion is over. You know Great-Aunt Maria gets rowdy after a drink or two. It’s probably best not to give her an opening, Grandpa.”
He grumbled something as he settled into his chair. Something that sounded an awful lot like “Fuck that shit,” and made Raven choke on her laughter.
“You have a cocktail called The Slutwhisperer?” I asked her, hiding my smile behind my glass of water. “Where did you come up with that?”
She tapped her finger against her temple and reached for her own water. “That’s probably one of the best names. Although, some of the others are pretty epic.”
“Now, I feel the need to come and find them out.”
“Imagine my bar is a church and you’re a demon,” she said. “I’ll be holding the matches.”
“She isn’t kidding,” Ryan muttered.
“Do you still do that screwdriver twist one?” Their grandpa asked.
“Reg,” Alexandra groaned.
“You know the one,” he continued, oblivious to her discomfort. “With the orange juice.”
Raven cleared her throat and looked down at the table. “You mean the Dirty Screw, Grandpa.”
“Yes!” He thumped the table with his fist. “I’m coming for breakfast. I need a Dirty Screw.”
“What the hell is a Dirty Screw?” I looked at Raven.
She glanced over at her mom, biting the inside of her cheek and fighting a smile. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
“If I order one, how happy will it make me?”
“Not very. I’ll probably throw it over you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
MIXED UP INSPIRED COCKTAIL
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By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.
Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.