Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Anna Black has the perfect novel choice for her book club. She also has a sexy new neighbor who jumps at the opportunity to join fellow bookworms in discussing her pick for their summer read.
It’s lust at first sight and the marriage of two literary souls.
The charismatic owner of a new T-shirt store in Des Moines’s East Village, Eric Steinmann, has a confident air and an irresistible “mating dance.” He’s almost perfect … until he says the wrong word.
Will Anna and Eric write their own story? Or will their chemistry die when fiction turns into reality?
**Right Guy, Wrong Word was originally written as a short story, The Last Person. It’s been revised with significant changes to the original content and extended into a full-length novel.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
To everyone who doesn’t believe in global warming, suck it! That smell? It’s my skin burning. I bet it resembles a hog roast. Someone, please give me a quarter turn.
Des Moines, Iowa, is not immune to summer heat. Still, ninety-seven degrees on the second day of June feels like Satan has come for Midwesterners first—surprising since everyone knows Las Vegas should be his priority.
I swipe my arm across my sweaty forehead and guide my bicycle into the entry of my apartment building in East Village—a quaint neighborhood of bars, shops, and modern-industrial apartments nestled between the capitol and downtown.
“Dear god … yes.” I stop and close my eyes, letting the cool air extinguish my skin. “Yes … yes … yes …” I moan, stretching the neck of my drenched, fitted tee to wipe more sweat from my face. When I open my eyes, a new face greets me. The corner of his mouth bends in amusement, and I shoot him a tight smile. “It’s sweltering outside.”
He scratches the back of his neck before running his hand through his dark hair. “Something’s definitely hot.” Then he sets his bike next to him, slipping on bike gloves.
With a nervous laugh, I avert my gaze and focus on lifting my bike onto the rack. “Well, if you don’t have to go out there, I wouldn’t. I think I just burned three layers of skin on my neck.”
“It’s okay. I like the heat.” He takes my bike from me, lifting it onto the rack.
“Thanks, but I could have done it. I do it every day.”
He shrugs. “My mom says chivalry’s dead. It’s my life’s mission to prove her wrong.”
“Courageous, courteous, and a man of honor? Well, that would make you rare. I fear I have to agree with your mom.” I wrinkle my nose and grin.
He curls his lips between his teeth and hums. “A shame.”
“It really is.”
“Anna.” My roommate Freya interrupts my runaway thoughts over finding the last true gentleman on earth—right here in the middle of Iowa. “It’s your month. I’ll provide the wine, of course.” She pins a flyer to the community board.
The new guy walks his bike to the board. “Book club, huh?”
“Yes. Eric, you should come … if you like to read. We’re starting a new book, and it’s Anna’s pick. There are twelve of us. We'll meet on the roof if it’s not raining and in the lounge if the weather’s bad. You’d be the fourth guy.”
“Anna …” he turns toward me.
“Oh … did you just meet?” Freya flips her red, humidity-beaten hair over her shoulder and digs her car keys out of her pocket.
“Sort of.” Eric smiles. It’s a magnificent smile. It fits his last-of-the-good-men personality.
I’m not sure why I’m smiling. Sweat-crusted hair clings to my face like a hairy octopus attacked me. And that odor? Yeah, that’s me.
“Anna, this is Eric Steinmann. He moved into Trent’s old apartment two days ago. You were mysteriously missing that day.” She gives me an accusatory smirk.
I spent the night and the following day with Carson, a local food blogger and a YouTube sensation. He adopted a service dog that lost one of his legs (after saving his previous owner when someone ran a red light), and his channel blew up with followers.
Everyone loves Gilbert, the three-legged yellow lab.
We’re not a thing, but we enjoy doing things when neither of us is in a relationship, which is now.
Fun.
Easy.
Noncommittal.
“Anna is my roommate, and she works at the bouldering gym.”
“That’s cool.” Eric bobs his head several times.
“Eric is opening a T-shirt shop next to your favorite coffee shop.”
“Cool.” I return the same sentiment.
“Yes. You’re both super cool.” Freya rolls her eyes and saunters out the door.
“Well … I guess I’ll see you around,” I say with a tight-lipped smile.
“What book?”
“Huh?” I stop my advance toward the stairs and glance over my shoulder.
“What book did you pick for our book club?”
“The Last Person by B. Ashton.”
“Huh … never heard of it.” He narrows his eyes.
“It’s a murder mystery. A psychological thriller with a splash of romance.”
“Interesting. I’ll have to download it.”
He’s joining the book club. That’s … great. I think.
CHAPTER TWO
Book Club Night One
“Are you nervous?” Freya asks as she opens bottles of wine that she gets for a discount because she works at a local winery.
I finish arranging the trays of finger foods before our book club members make their way to the rooftop. “Nervous?” I clarify in a shaky voice.
“Your book choice. If people don’t like it, you’ll feel judged. Don’t you remember when I picked that paranormal romance? I swear Ashlee and Devin still cringe when they see me.”
“It was the period scene.” I laugh.
“He could have killed her, but he loved her. I wish I could find a man as accepting of my monthly cycles.”
“Um …” I glance up after arranging small piles of napkins around the trays. “He …” I can barely bring myself to say it. “Lapped up her blood.”