Bang by Sabrina Stark

Coming August 1st. to Amazon/Kindle Unlimited!

Now Available for Preorder!

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One hard billionaire. One college grad turned nanny. And a massive mansion that's way too small for their growing attraction.

Mason Blastoviak. This self-made billionaire doesn't bang the Help. He doesn't get involved. And he never, ever falls in love.

Cami O'Neal. This recent teaching grad doesn't do strangers. She doesn't neglect her charge. And she never, ever throws herself at billionaires, especially her hard-bodied, hard-as-nails, and very hard-to-figure-out billionaire boss – the guy whose kid sister is under her care.

It all sounds good in theory. But what happens when these two decidedly different personalities are living under the same roof? Looking out for the same precocious kid? Crossing paths and clashing in the closets? And just what if all those sparks aren't caused by loathing, but something a lot more dangerous?

Could it be a forever-and-ever kind of love?

**Bang is a fun, full-length billionaire romantic comedy with a guaranteed happily-ever-after!**

 

Sneak Peek

Chapter 1

"Oh. My. God." In front of me, Livia's eyes widened as she stared across the small, crowded nightclub.

She was facing the main entrance. I wasn't.

When I turned to look, she lunged for my arm. "Cami, don't!"

At the sound of my name, I stopped in mid-motion. "Don't what?"

"Don't look," she said. "I think he's coming over."

"He?" I turned back to Livia. "He who?"

Her voice grew dreamy. "A total freaking hottie."

"Let me guess," I laughed. "Tall, dark and handsome? Like the last three guys you mentioned?"

"Forget them," she said. "They're chopped liver compared to this guy."

Now, I really wanted to look -- not because I was here to meet someone, but rather because the other guys had been nothing to sneeze at. This meant the latest "hottie" must be something truly spectacular.

Livia was still gripping my arm. With a little squeeze, she said, "Quick. Laugh like I just said something funny."

At this, I actually did laugh, not because she'd commanded me to, but rather because the request was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. "Seriously?"

"Louder," she urged. "And better. Like this." And then, right on cue, she threw back her head and laughed with such wild abandon that several people turned to look.

Then again, people always looked at Livia. She was undeniably gorgeous, with long dark hair and a figure to die for.
And me? Well, I wasn't quite chopped liver, but I was no Livia, that's for sure.

I stood several inches shorter, with long auburn hair that was nearly impossible to tame, especially during humid weather – or when I'd been dancing for too long in a crowded nightclub.

But Livia? She still looked picture-perfect. She and I were probably the same dress size, but with her impossibly long legs, she looked three sizes smaller and ten times more fashionable in her little red dress with matching heels.

She was holding her fifth mojito – not because she'd consumed the other four, but rather because a long parade of guys had been vying for her attention and buying her drinks whenever she expressed the least bit of thirst.

As I watched, she placed the latest mojito onto the bar beside us and smiled winningly over my shoulder. Under her breath, she urged, "Hurry up."

"Sorry, what?"

"Laugh, like I said."

Oh, God. I didn't want to. But the truth was, I owed Livia a favor, and I couldn’t afford to tick her off.

Just yesterday, she'd gotten me a job interview with her dad's jewelry store, and if there was one thing I needed now was gainful employment.

So, feeling like a total idiot, I threw back my head and laughed like Livia had done just a few moments ago. Or at least, I thought it was the same – except the reactions were totally different.

Where people had stared at her with obvious interest, they stared at me like I'd like just farted at the dinner table.

Livia frowned. "That sounded totally fake."

Heat flooded my face. In a near-whisper, I said, "Yeah. Because it was."

I wasn't good at faking things, especially orgasms. Ask my last boyfriend. He'll tell you.

Livia was still frowning. "You'll never get any better if you don't practice."

"Practice what?"

"Laughing."

I didn't want to practice. I laughed when I was amused. I smiled when I was happy. And about the orgasms, well, let's just say it was better to fake it than to let Russell fumble around for any longer than was necessary.

It wasn't that I didn't love sex. I did, truly. It's just that my last couple of partners had been perfunctory at best, which probably explained why I was in the middle of a long, self-imposed dry spell.

Until I met someone who rocked my world, I figured it was better to wait.

As for Livia, she looked primed to get naked now as she stared toward the club entrance. Like someone in a trance, she murmured, "You really should see him."

Again, I turned to look.

"Don't!" Livia said for the second time. And then, in a lower voice, she added, "I mean, I don't want him to think we're talking about him or anything."

Reluctantly, I returned all of my attention to Livia. "But I thought he was coming over."

"He was," she said. "But a couple of hoochies jumped in the way." She made a sound of disgust. "Sluts."

I'd gone to high school with Livia. In her world, any girl was a slut if they put the moves on someone she liked. From the look in her eyes now, she liked this new guy the way lions liked antelope.

With a little laugh, she said, "Boy, did he give them the brush-off." Her eyes were gleaming now. "Now he's really coming over." As she spoke, she tossed another smile in his direction and if to say, "Come on in, the water's fine."

By now, I was dying of curiosity. "Can you at least describe him to me?"
"My pleasure," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Six-foot two, rocking hard body, thick dark hair, dark dangerous eyes."

I almost snickered. "Dangerous how?"

"Oh, he's seen things. I can tell." With another long, appreciative look in the guy's direction, she sighed, "And the way he's dressed, it's like his suit was custom-made."

I shook my head. "Wait, so he's wearing a business suit?"

This was Petoskey, Michigan, not some urban fashion center. As far as the club itself, it was nice for what it was – a popular hangout where locals and tourists could mix and mingle on Saturday nights.

It wasn't a suit-and-tie sort of place.

On the stage, a local band was jamming some tune that had hit the charts maybe three or four years ago. The place was packed with adults of all ages, some of them probably triple my own age of twenty-four.

It was October, and fall colors had just reached their peak, turning the green of Northern Michigan trees into a glorious display of yellow, orange and gold. People from all of the state and beyond had flocked northward like they always did, bringing with them enough money to keep the shops and restaurants open for another season.

In front of me, Livia practically purred, "I'll give him some business, alright." She cocked a hip and gave a toss of her long dark hair. With a flirty smile, she said, "Now shush. He's almost here."

She didn't need to tell me twice. By now, I hardly knew what to say. But sure enough, the guy finally strode into view and stopped directly beside us, just as Livia had predicted.

With a little gasp, I stared up at the guy. His hair was dark, and his eyes were too compelling for words. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either as he looked from me to Livia and back again.

I felt myself swallow. He was everything Livia had claimed and then some. But that wasn't why I was staring. It was because I actually knew the guy.

I didn't like him.

And he sure as heck didn't like me.

He was Mason Blastoviak – my least favorite billionaire.

And hey, the feeling was totally mutual, because I knew one thing for darned sure. I was his least favorite something. I just didn't know what.

(End of Sneak Peek)

Coming soon to Amazon/Kindle Unlimited!

Now Available for Preorder!

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