She’s left holding the bag and the billionaire...
Drew Butler needs a wife. ASAP.
But his matchmaker failed to show for their designated meeting. Now he’s
doomed. But the understated beauty at the bar gives him another idea. A forbidden
agreement that holds much more enticement.
Attorney, Samantha Felix is tasked
with informing a drunk billionaire in how he’s violated the terms of his
contract with Weddings To Go. Instead, she falls right into his trap. Right
into his bed.
Wild Women Authors features Forbidden Agreement, book 2 in the Fiery Billionaires Nights series by Mia Augustine. With Mia is billionaire Drew Butler who is considered one NYC’s most eligible billionaire bachelors. As we understand it, his father is forcing him to marry or he will disinherit him.
Thank
you for coming today, Mr. Butler. First, we want to ask: Did we get any of that
wrong? No, you’re correct.
There are several of us whose father’s were in, what you might consider, unique
club during their college years. The result was a few overblown arrogant egos.
Interesting. So, tell us,
when was the last time you cried? That’s
your first question? Easy. I don’t cry. I get mad. Much more useful.
Are you a rule follower? Hell, no. How do you think I ended up in this position
in the first place?
When was the last time you
got drunk? The night I met her! She
makes the worst coffee ever.
And that’s a deal breaker?
Not on your life.
We’re confused. Then what
does that—inability to make a decent cup of joe—have to do with anything? It doesn’t, I guess.
What keeps you up at night?
I was hoping it would be her.
Thanks
for spending time with us, Drew. Now we’d like to chat with Mia for a bit.
How did you come to the
decision that you wanted to write? I
think it picked me. I saw a google prompt one day in 2006 that said: What if Cinderella’s
slipper fit one of her evil stepsisters? And, I thought, I love Cinderella. I
could write that. So, I did. And four more in the series after that.
Do you think someone could
be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly? Yes… BUT, and it’s a big but (no pun intended), this
is where critique partners, editors, beta readers come in handy. We all have
our specialties—what we’re good at. We also have to realize our weaknesses, and
they’re not easy to see in yourself. It’s very easy to see those weaknesses in
others. So, when you find yourself criticizing something particular in another’s
works, I look at what is bugging me about it and see if that is a weakness I'm
sensitive to. And, inevitably, it is.
Last,
what’s on tap for you in the near future? I do an annual Christmas book with my dear friend, Amanda McCabe (under
Kathy L Wheeler). We have a series called Gaming Hell Christmas set in the late
1790s. Volume 3 comes out on December 5. We expect at least one more year of
GHC after this year, and will probably do a Special Edition Kickstarter for the
entire series next year.
Mia brought an excerpt for us:
Drew
shoved a hand through his hair. “How did that happen?”
Bindi
Jamison had been Carson’s long-lost love from ten years ago. She was also the
woman who’d screwed Carson over on their almost-wedding day, deserting his best
friend at the altar.
Drew
took a sip of his coffee and almost gagged. It was the worst coffee he’d ever
had in his life.
“I
couldn’t find creamer or sugar,” she told him.
There
wasn’t enough cream and sugar in the whole world to help this cup. At least it
was strong. He took another, smaller drink, and managed not to wince. It did
help in clearing his mind of some of the cobwebs. “Where are they?”
“Apparently,
he took a suite at the Plaza as well. I suspect he’s your neighbor.”
“I
doubt it. He’s in a wing of the hotel. This place is considered a resident
apartment. My family owns it.”
“Impressive.”
She didn’t sound impressed.
Drew
lowered his cup to the glass coffee-tabletop and stared at her. She was the
attorney of the scam he’d fallen for, but he couldn’t remember her name. She
was pretty with her long, dark blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. She wore a
plain dress of nondescript beige topped with a classically cut jacket over it.
Designer or not? Not his expertise. Nude
heels appeared at the end of long legs. He couldn’t tell if her legs were bare
or not. She was hot and he was obviously still halfway drunk.
He stood. “Would you excuse me?” He needed a
minute to clear his head of clearing his head because he was definitely out of
his blasted mind. He made his way to the bathroom upstairs and splashed cold
water on his face. He never drank to excess. Apparently, the thought of his
father choosing whom he should marry, in an ultimatum no less, was enough to
send him into a spiral he hadn’t dived into since his freshman year at Yale.
Keeping
his wits intact was vital. Not that he’d done a stellar job so far. There had
to be a way to salvage this mess. Brushing his teeth went a long way toward
making him feel human again; set his brain to humming, or maybe it was his...
She really was hot, but she couldn’t make coffee for crap.
Drew
went back down to the kitchen and took a bottled water out of the fridge and
downed it, tossed the bottle in the recycle bin and grabbed another, then slowed
his steps back to the great room. She sat with her back to him, leaning against
the sofa, her long hair hanging over the back. His fingers tingled with want… a
need to see if the heavy strands felt as silky as they looked.
She
glanced over her shoulder at him. “No more coffee?”
It
tastes like crap. “It did its job. It
woke me up.” He went to the couch and took up the place he’d recently vacated;
gripped his water. He didn’t quite trust himself not to touch her. The alcohol
still raged through his blood—screamed at him—urging him to action. He was a
beta male. Never a threat to anyone—something his father seemed to resent about
him.
Yet
Drew wanted to rip her clothes off. He set his water on the table, leaned back,
stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “So… I don’t suppose you
would consider marrying me.”
One
nude pump plopped to the floor with a resounding thunk. He chanced a
glance at her. His stomach dropped.
The
abominable coffee was poised at her lips, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Excuse
me?”
Her
squeal hit the twelve-foot ceiling.
A bit about our author: Mia Augustine (aka Kathy L Wheeler) loves rainy days, hot chocolate, her dog, and movies with happy endings. Her contemporary stories are edgy, passionate, sometimes dark, but always compelling.
She can be found at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089614103041
Instagram: https://instagram.com/miaaugustineauthor
TikTok:
https://tiktok.com/@kathylwheeler
Website:
https://kathylwheeler.com
To
purchase Forbidden Agreement, go to:
AMZ: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PYW45GF/
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/forbidden-agreement
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/forbidden-agreement-kathy-l-wheeler/1141641505
Payhip: https://payhip.com/b/dvEP9
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/forbidden-agreement-fiery-billionaire-nights-book-2-by-mia-augustine
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