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WRONG BED, RIGHT ROOMMATE Blog Tour

Welcome to the blog tour for WRONG BED, RIGHT ROOMMATE, the first book in the adult contemporary romance series, Accidental Love, by Rebecca Brooks. See below for information on the book, buy links, an exclusive excerpt, and details on her giveaway.

WRONG BED, RIGHT ROOMMATE (Accidental Love #1) by Rebecca Brooks

WRONG BED, RIGHT ROOMMATE (Accidental Love #1) by Rebecca Brooks

About the Book
Title: WRONG BED, RIGHT ROOMMATE
Series: Accidental Love #1
Author: Rebecca Brooks
Publisher: Entangled Brazen
Release Date: January 14, 2019
Genre:
 Adult Contemporary Romance
Links: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Synopsis
It’s not every day you wake up to a stranger getting into your bed. Only, he isn’t a stranger at all, he’s my best friend’s hot older brother…and apparently my new roommate. Having him in my space, driving me crazy, isn’t a problem at all. Nope. All I need to do is keep control of the situation…

But that’s easier said than done. Shawn Lassiter is the kind of distraction I don’t need.

First he accidentally gets into my bed, half-naked, the night before my first day at my new job. Hello, muscles and tattoos! Then he’s there, in nothing but a towel, making me coffee in the morning. It’s more than any girl can resist. Right? But Shawn is off-limits, even if his eyes are saying differently.

Years ago, back when I still had my crush, he destroyed friendships with his reckless playboy antics. There’s no way I’m touching those perfectly formed abs now. I don’t care how nice and responsible he’s acting. I don’t want a boyfriend anyway. That’s what my trusty vibrator is for. I’m the smart girl—the glasses-wearing, book-reading workaholic. I can totally do this.

After all, it’s only for two and a half months. I’ll be on my best behavior…even if Shawn isn’t.

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Excerpt #1
Shawn unzipped his jeans and yanked off his pants, leaving them on the floor as well. This was so much better than Brandon’s shitty couch. Quiet, darkness, a door that closed, an actual bed, and no need to worry about leaving his stuff all over the floor.

By the time he’d stripped down to his boxers, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth. Tomorrow. He’d deal with everything then. He pulled back the covers, ready to collapse into bed.

All of a sudden, somebody screamed.

He fell onto something warm and wriggling wildly against him. “Get away from me!” the voice cried, pushing him off.

He tumbled to the side, tangled in sheets, heart pounding as he tried to keep from falling off the bed. What the ever-loving fuck?

He was turning over, trying to keep his boxers up and his sensitive parts protected as a leg kicked at him, when a light came on, blinding him instantly. In bed—in his bed, the bed he’d been about to crawl into—was a very startled, very beautiful, nearly-naked woman.

She snatched up the sheet to cover the gorgeous curve of her breasts filling out a thin tank top, the straps falling partway off her shoulders. But it was too late, he’d already gotten an eyeful. Thank fucking everything he hadn’t taken off his boxers, or it would be even more obvious what he thought of the view.

Talia must have had a second roommate she hadn’t mentioned, or else he was in the wrong apartment altogether. Nothing about this woman matched the high school girl in his memory—except for the mane of dark curls. Dark, wild, luscious curls that tumbled over her bare shoulders and that flimsy nothing of her tank top strap, which seemed to make her even more exposed than if she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“You must be Jessie,” he finally said, barely able to get the words out.

She stared like it was taking her a minute to place him, too. He could feel her taking everything in—his bare chest, his boxers, the swirl of tattoos that ran around his left shoulder and tapered out across his pecs. She definitely wouldn’t have seen that ink before, or the three days of sandy stubble on his jaw. Or the pecs, for that matter—he’d been leaner, smaller, in his baseball-playing days.

But she blinked in recognition, and her eyes widened.

“It can’t be,” she said, still staring. Then she scrunched up her face like something smelled. “Shawn?”

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Author Rebecca Brooks

Author Rebecca Brooks

About the Author
Rebecca Brooks lives in New York City in an apartment filled with books. She received a PhD in English but decided it was more fun to write books than write about them. She has backpacked alone through India and Brazil, traveled by cargo boat down the Amazon River, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, explored ice caves in Peru, trekked to the source of the Ganges, and sunbathed in Burma, but she always likes coming home to a cold beer and her hot husband in the Bronx. Her books are about independent women who leave their old lives behind to try something new–and find the passion, excitement and purpose they didn’t know they’d been missing. Learn more at http://rebeccabrooksromance.com. To sign-up for her newsletter, sign-up at http://rebeccabrooksromance.com/newsletter.

 

 

 

Where to Find Rebecca Brooks
Goodreads | Website | NewsletterFacebookTwitter

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Giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway