Exclusive excerpt: Small Town Scandal by Daisy Prescott

Out today is Small Town Scandal by Daisy Prescott―the newest addition to the Wingman series. Before you dive in fully into this second chance romance, I’ve got a sneak peek at what awaits below!

Please note this novel can be read as a standalone book.

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About Small Town Scandal

Another wingmen meets his match and this time it’s scandalous.

Carter Kelso is a man with a plan. And goats.

Ashley Kingston is a woman with a reputation.

Can he earn back her love before their past catches up with them and destroys everything?

On the island, my last name is synonymous with scandal. With a notorious father and a famous brother, I’ve been on the sidelines of our small town’s gossip circle for years. Nothing to see here. Just a man and his goats, happily going through life. Not a care in the world. Too bad it’s all lies.

I’m tired of trying not to be in love with Ashley Kingston, our very own island jezebel. Some people think she’s a slut. They think they know her. They’re wrong. Screw them.

Reputations can be deceiving. I should know.

Excerpt

In my rearview mirror, I spot a guy ride up behind me on a unicycle. He appears to be wearing a helmet shaped like a wolf’s head, complete with a snout.

My frown deepens into a scowl.

Falcon.

He pedals past my truck, and cuts in front of me in line. As I glower at him, he stops by the hut’s window, his bare feet working the pedals to keep his balance. Takes me a moment to notice he’s wearing a skirt because I’m concentrating on imagining him face-planting off his clown bike. His rainbow dreads are wrapped up in a loose ponytail, which he tosses over his shoulder as he flirts with the barista.

Something she says must be hysterical because he leans his head back to roar with laughter.

Fall.

Fall.

Fall.

I chant in my head as he leans farther, precariously working the pedals to remain upright.

Then the moment happens.

He tips past the point of balance.

Fall.

I lean forward in delight.

His left leg kicks out to the side, and right before he goes ass over elbows, he catches himself. Hopping off the seat, he easily catches the unicycle in one hand. With a bow, he acts like he meant to do exactly that move.

Hippie asshole.

The barista leans through the window to hand him a plastic cup of pea green matcha. An auburn curl slips from under her cap.

My breath catches in my throat like I’ve swallowed wrong.

No wonder Falcon put on a show.

Ashley Kingston’s laugh is worth making a fool of yourself.

I should know.

I’ve been doing it most of my life.

Annoyed and still thirsty, I tap my horn. Not like someone in Seattle cut me off, but harder than a friendly honk.

Ashley leans farther out the window and Falcon says something to her as he puts his cash in her hand. With a friendly wave, he hops on his wheel and pedals away.

I make sure he’s gone before easing off the brake and pulling up to the window.

Resting my elbow on the door, I give her a friendly smile.

Not surprisingly, she frowns at me, her happiness fading. “Carter.”

“Hi.” Ignoring her frown, I wave.

“Was the honking necessary?” She doesn’t ask what I want as she scoops ice into a large cup.

I stare at her profile while she works. A universe of freckles dot her high cheekbones and nose, which has a slight swoop at the end. Pink colors her cheeks and I’m not sure if it’s makeup or too much sun. Long, dark lashes frame her ever-changing hazel eyes. Even in the baseball cap, her fiery hair hidden, she’s beautiful.

“Falcon looked like he was going to perch on your counter for the day. Didn’t want him to scare off honest customers.”

She pours black coffee into the cup of ice, leaving about two inches at the top for milk. “Ha ha.”

Her laugh lacks any warmth and the fake sound bruises my ego.

“Where’s Jonah?” I ignore the way my palms get clammy with rejection.

“He’s working with Erik, roasting a new blend.” Again, without asking, she adds cream to my coffee and then presses on a lid.

I should probably know this, but I’m not my younger brother’s keeper. Not since he moved out to live with his girlfriend, Cari, who’s way too cool for him.

Ashley hands me the cup and I pull out cash to give her. With a flick of her hand, she tells me, “Falcon bought your drink.”

“What if I don’t want him to buy my coffee?”

“Why wouldn’t you want a free coffee?”

“I don’t want to be indebted to a guy who can’t afford a bicycle with two wheels.”

Her frown deepens. “What do you have against him? He’s legitimately the kindest guy on this island. Did you know he’s on his way to give a free show at the senior center? He creates balloon animals and does magic tricks.”

“He’s a one man sunshine brigade,” I mumble as I take my coffee from the counter and leave the ten-dollar bill. “Pay that forward to the next customer.”

Fucking Falcon. He probably lives in a tiny cabin in the woods without running water and bathes in a spring fed creek, drying off with moss before namastaying his naked salutation to the sun. She can’t be sleeping with a wood sprite with the same name as our high school mascot.

Can she?

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Exclusive excerpt: Crazy Over You by Daisy Prescott

Coming next week is Daisy Prescott’s new second-chance romance, Crazy Over You. I love Daisy’s feel-good romantic comedies and so excited to give you a sneak peek at this second standalone installment in the Love With Altitude series.

Pre-order now: AmazoniBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Add to GR  ✦

About Crazy Over You

My savior isn’t prince charming.

I’m not that lucky.

He’s my worst nightmare.

He’s my one-night stand from two years ago.

And he doesn’t remember me.

What happens on vacation doesn’t always stay on vacation. Especially in a place like Aspen. I moved to the mountains for my dream vet job. I never expected to run into the man of my dreams. Again.

I never thought I’d see her again.

My Cinderella didn’t leave me a shoe to find her.

Not that I’d need random footwear to recognize her.

Her kiss is something I’ll never forget.

Work hard. Play hard. I’m paid to be a nice guy on the slopes, but what I do in my off time isn’t always about making good choices. That’s the fun of living in a ski town. I stay while the women come and go.

Excerpt

“I was okay until the top of this run. I survived the road of certain extinction with rocks on one side and death on the other. Figured I was safe. Then I hit the top of this section and too much adrenaline hit me. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not this kind of girl.”

His shoulders lift with amusement. “Not what kind of girl?”

The kind of girl who would notice the drop in his voice and how the words come out sounding less like a question and more like hopeful lust. I wonder if women create fake reasons all day long to meet cute ski patrol on the mountain. How far would some women go?

All the way. They’d go all the way.

They’d do whatever it takes to meet a cute guy.

“No, not that kind of girl. I should’ve stayed with the blue runs. I’m comfortable with blue. Blue is a great color. The sky, the ocean. They’re both blue. And water. Like snow.”

His shoulders shake. “Thanks for the science lesson.”

“Stop laughing at me. I could’ve died.”

“Not on my watch. I haven’t lost a skier yet. I woke up in a good mood this morning, so I know today’s not the day to have that record broken by a beautiful woman who likes to take risks.”

My cheeks heat, but I let his compliment slip away without commenting. Is this all part of the snow bunny and skier dance? Or is he distracting me with praise?

It’s working.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way off this side of the mountain that doesn’t involve the words black or diamond?”

“Sadly, only one. Do you need the toboggan?”

Oh, hell no.

I duck my chin. I can feel the giant pom-pom on my hat droop forward. “Maybe.”

“I have another solution.”

“Does it involve further humiliation?”

“No, of course not. I can ski you down to the lift. You’ll have to go back up to get to the village, but you’ll have your choice of green and blue runs down to Fanny Hill. Or I can call for the toboggan …” His words trail off as he grabs the radio strapped to his chest.

Images of him skiing with me in his arms flash through my mind. “You’d carry me?”

He releases a surprised chuckle. “I would if necessary, but I’m thinking you’ll ski down with my help.”

The picture of him lifting me into his arms as if I weigh nothing and the two of us swooping off into the distance fades.

“How?” I peek at his profile.

“I’ll ski and you’ll hold onto my pole.”

Mara, do not make this dirty.

He shifts to stand and holds out his hand. “Think you can manage that?”

“You want me to trust you with my life?” I eye his glove, but don’t reach for it.

“I do. I’m more than qualified.” He points a gloved hand to the cross emblem on his sleeve. “See? Want a list of my credentials?”

I remain sitting. “Shouldn’t you have a St. Bernard with a barrel of whiskey around its neck to revive me?”

“First of all, my dog’s a Norwegian duck tolling retriever mix, and Fern’s too young to drink. Second, St. Bernards carry brandy.”

“Get a lot of ducks up here needing rescuing?”

“Only chicks.” He fights a grin and a dimple of suppression reveals itself on his left cheek. Dimples are the sprinkles on top of chocolate cake, and his reminds me of someone.

I narrow my eyes at his bad, and pretty sexist pun. Since he literally holds my life in his hands, I decide to stick to the safe subject of canines.

“You have a work dog? Like an avalanche dog?” I accept his hand to be lifted up.

“Not like. Is. Hardest working member of ski patrol.” He lets go of my hand to position my skis.

“I don’t suppose you have a flask in your backpack?” I gesture at the black bag I’m pretty sure is filled with first aid supplies.

He shakes his head. “Not even a thermos of cocoa.”

I finally meet his kind eyes. The irises are a surprising light, warm caramel brown with darker brown near the edge. They remind me of crème brûlée. Chocolate cake might be my favorite, but I wouldn’t kick a nice crème brûlée out of bed.

His eyes are also vaguely familiar.

Series reading order
Each can be read as a standalone

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Exclusive Excerpt: Next to You by Daisy Prescott

next to you

Next to You by Daisy Prescott is out today! It’s a standalone romantic comedy about a rugby player and an heiress in Aspen and I’m so excited to share with you a never-before-seen excerpt to whet your appetite!

Buy Now for 99¢: Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble ✦

Synopsis

“If you want to date me, all you need to do is say the word. I’d never let you go.”

I added Sage to my rugby club’s annual list of women who are off limits thinking I could protect her from the gorillas I play with. Aspen’s a small town in the off season when the dating pool shrinks to the size of a melted snowflake. Never did I think I’d be the one to break the code and date her.

Even if it’s all for show. A wager between friends. An excuse to hang out with her more.

Nothing more than that.

Right?

***

Who agrees to date their best friend over a green smoothie? Apparently this girl right here.

Now the man-bun-sporting South African rugby god next door is my fake boyfriend. I need to rebuild my confidence after some poor dating decisions. Who could be better to fluff my ego than Aspen’s hottest bachelor?

This situation is a win-win.

Right?

Excerpt

Now tell me about this soft core porno you’ve been watching while I’ve innocently napped like a babe beside you.”

It’s not porn! You really must think I’m a pervert with all of your porn references tonight.”

When I opened my eyes, there were naked people on screen having sex. I might have missed the beginning, but as far as I could see, none of the important bits were shown. Therefore, not full on porn, but soft core. Like on French television.”

It’s a drama about time travel and eighteenth century Scotland.”

Ah.”

What?”

Gotcha. It’s intellectual. My apologies.” He puts a big chunk of meat into his mouth and chews while watching me.

You might enjoy it. Lots of naked breasts. Plus all the guy stuff.”

Aren’t naked breasts guy stuff?”

You know what I mean. Wars, fights, swords, espionage, and naked breasts.”

It sounds like James Bond in kilts.”

Better.”

Maybe I should watch from the beginning.”

I nod. “We can start tonight if you’re awake enough for it.”

He fiddles with the remote and brings up the on demand feature. “Ready?”

I fluff his two lonely throw pillows and make myself comfortable on the other end of the sofa. “Do you need anything?”

I’m good.”

I’ve read all the books and seen the show repeatedly. I’m a little obsessed and can probably recite chunks of dialogue verbatim at this point.

Stan tosses half of the throw blanket over my legs. 

I can feel his body warmth a few feet away. “This is better than Netflix and Chill.”

We should have our own tagline. Stew and Stare? Soup and Kilts?”

Those are both terrible.” I laugh at the idea of stew being part of a casual hookup.

Demand and slurp?” He winks.

Gross! Sounds like a bad date asking for a blow job.”

His easy smile fades. “Has that happened to you before? A date demanding oral sex?”

I give him a sidelong glance, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Um, all guys?”

His head jerks back. “All guys do not do that. I’ve never done that.”

Probably because you don’t have to. Women willingly and speedily offer to pleasure you all the time. Which is fine. I’m not judging your opportunities.” I so am. “But in the real world where the rest of us live, most women don’t drop to their knees and open their mouths with one look. Those women are often being paid for their enthusiasm.”

I’ve never asked, forced, or paid a woman to do anything she’s not keen to do. Ever.” His brows are lowered in a serious expression. I swear his eyes are a darker shade of pale, too. “Perhaps you’ve always dated terrible men.”

Neither of us say Logan’s name again.

No need to repeat the conversation.

It’s different for us regular people.”

Define regular?” 

I sweep my hand down my body. “Normal.”

He leans over and tugs a strand of my hair. “There is nothing regular or normal about you, my pink-haired flower.”

My hair’s not the only thing pink now. My cheeks flush from his words or his proximity. Maybe both.

I point at the TV. “Focus on the wonder of Outlander, Mr. Sweet Talker.”

I wonder how I’d look in a kilt.”

I’m never going to survive with an image of him wearing a kilt, and only a kilt, in my head. 

Terrible. Obviously, you have weak ankles.”

You’ve found my one weakness.” 

I take solace in your imperfections. Now pay attention. This part’s important.”

He’s snoring again by the middle of the second episode. I finish and quietly clean up without waking him before going home.

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Exclusive Excerpt + Giveaway: We Were Here by Daisy Prescott

We Were Here

Daisy Prescott has a new standalone romance and if you love the 90s like I do, it’s a book that shouldn’t be missed!!! I’m thrilled to share an excerpt with you from We Were Here, which is now available! Make sure you scroll down to the bottom to enter to win a signed copy and an Amazon gift card!

Get it now: Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & Noble ✦

Synopsis

In the 90s …

texting involved paper and a pen …

our selfies were Polaroids …

our favorite music was on mix tapes.

Sex was dangerous, music was raw, and falling in love felt nostalgic.

We were friends and lovers.

We thought we knew everything.

We knew nothing.

We were here.

This is the story of seven college friends, falling in and out of love, and discovering who they are. Set in the early 1990s, a time before the internet, social media, and smart phones, We Were Here is the prequel to Geoducks Are For Lovers. 

Excerpt

“We were freshmen when we agreed to be filmed every year for his documentary. I was barely eighteen and hadn’t voted in a presidential election yet. I believe that means I wasn’t an adult, and therefore incapable of giving consent.” Maggie picks at her salad.

“Come on, guys, think of how fun this will be. Our lives and friendships captured on VHS for eternity. Owen could become the next Spielberg and we’ll all end up in the Smithsonian.” Quinn’s blue eyes dance with dreams of fame and notoriety.

“What’s going to be fun?” Gil sits down at the far end of the table. Maggie’s glance flicks over to him for a second, then returns to her salad plate.

“Owen’s documentary is showing tonight,” Jo explains.

“The one we started as freshmen?” Gil shakes his head. “No way. Lived it. Don’t need to watch it.”

“Really?” Maggie focuses her attention on him.

“Don’t you remember my glasses?” He draws large circles around his eyes.

“Didn’t you have a mullet, too?” Selah runs her hand over his dark shoulder-length hair. He’s the poster boy for grunge music in his thrift store cardigan and faded Levis. Today’s shirt is one of those old golf shirts with the little penguin over his heart. I remember my dad wearing them.

He leans away to escape her petting. “It was an awkward period all around. You try growing out your hair and not have a mullet at some point.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re all going. We’re almost done with college. The time for nostalgia and reminiscing is upon us. These are the days …” Quinn sings the last sentence, and we all groan.

“I’ll go.” Ben finally joins the conversation. “We all should go. Quinn’s right. It’s the end of an era. We’ll never be this young and stupid again. We might as well enjoy it while we can.”

“Ben speaks.” Quinn pats him on the back. “Okay, we’ll meet outside the theater at seven-thirty sharp.”

“The documentary doesn’t start until eight.” Selah pulls the invitation out of her satchel and points at the time.

“I know, dear, but some of us are always late.” He nods toward Maggie.

Maggie glares at him. “I’m not always late.”

“Okay, Caterpillar.”

“You mean the White Rabbit. Quit mixing your metaphors.” Selah corrects him.

I smile at the use of her nickname from our first year.

It’s highly probable I might be the only one looking forward to seeing our friendships and lives as they evolved over the past four years. The same good-hearted bickering that’s seen us through countless dramas, failed love affairs, growing pains, and endless nights talking continues around the table.

With graduation a few weeks away, I’m trying to capture every moment and save them away for later. Who knows where our lives will take us or what fate has in store for us in the future. I want to stay in the present for as long as possible.

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