A GROUP GIVEAWAY in celebration of NATIONAL PROPOSAL DAY!
Happy #NationalProposalDay, everyone! You have to admit, what a very fun holiday to celebrate, right? (Beats the heck out of National Broccoli Day...though may just be up there with National Nutella Day.)
I'm joining with 6 of my very favorite bestselling friends (Tawny Weber, Lori Foster, Victoria Blue, Joanne Rock, Laura Marie Altom, and Sharon Hamilton) for this beautiful celebration. We're all sharing our favorite proposal stories and/or story excerpts, and would love to hear yours too! And yes, just to make the day sweeter: everyone is giving away special prizes, as well!
My prize is: a signed paperback copy of A WILDER WONDERLAND (the book from which my excerpt is taken!), as well as your choice of one more signed paperback from the WILD Boys of Special Forces back list. Yep, that's TWO books...and better yet, I'm giving the prize away to TWO winners: one randomly selected from responders to this thread on my Facebook Page, and one as part of the Grand Prize being given away through Tawny Weber's Facebook Page.
To respond to the thread: just share YOUR idea of the most romantic proposal ever. It can be the one your own husband gave you, or something out of your wildest and most romantic fantasies. And to get you in the mood, here's an excerpt from A WILDER WONDERLAND, featuring one of my favorite proposal scenes from the WILD Boys series, starring Zeke Hayes and Rayna Chestain. Hope you enjoy!
What a weird but wonderful dream.
The trill of an Irish whistle floated on the breeze, and a choir sang along with it. They sounded incredible, harmonizing perfectly on one of her favorite Celine Dion songs. Even the doves sounded pretty, cooing together as if trying to echo the chorus themselves. Crazy Mrs. Hopper from next door babbled something about them being hungry, and she’d be right back after grabbing some bread crumbs for them…
Mrs. Hopper? Talking to a bunch of doves?
She bolted upright in bed.
Okay, she was awake now. The drool and tear stains on Z’s former pillow were proof of that. But the choir was still singing. And the doves tried to warble with them again.
“What the hell?”
She shoved her hair off her face while shrugging into her robe. While she stumbled into the kitchen, she stubbed her toe. Since three out of the five toes on her right foot now screamed in pain, she determined she was really awake. Yet the music continued. Where was it coming—
“What. The. Hell?”
It was the last thing she stammered before her mouth popped open in shock. Perhaps permanently.
The choir, probably twenty or thirty strong, stood on her front lawn. Their red and gold robes matched the dozen standing candelabra that flanked her front walk, all draped in red satin with their tapers alight. The sidewalk between them was swathed in a plush red runner. Standing in the middle of that runner was someone who vaguely resembled Zeke Hayes.
“Vaguely” was an understatement. The man had slicked back his hair and shaved his scruff. His shoulders looked even more enormous with dual gold epaulets that draped over a fitted crimson jacket with military accents. His legs, encased in black pants, were covered to the knee in black Hessian boots. He looked gorgeous and nervous and sincere, a breathtaking prince right out of a fairy tale, which made her feel five kinds of perverted for wishing she could rip all of it off him and have her way with him right there on the sidewalk.
Wild fantasy aside, her hand shook as she waved at him through the big front window. As he smiled back, a little of the Zsycho smirk appeared. He approached the porch while she opened the front door.
“My queen Rayna.” As soon as he murmured it, the choir faded their voices into soft hums.
Her hand still trembled as he pulled it between both of his. “Errmmm…my king Zeke?”
She wanted to giggle, but his mien became even more solemn. She’d rarely seen this kind of intensity in him outside the Bastille’s dungeons. It made her knees turn to mush…and her pussy turn to fire. Thank God she was wearing a robe. And underwear.
She had no idea what to expect next, but this man taking a knee before her certainly wasn’t it. His pride, forged as a boy in the crucible of the Seattle streets, was the one thing Zeke never relented to anyone. But here he was, bowing his head to kiss the tips of her fingers before he swept the incredible fire of his gaze back up to her.
“You asked if I was willing to change for you, Rayna. For us.” One side of his mouth lifted a little. “But the truth is that I already have. You’ve changed me with your light and your love in my life, and in my heart.” He pulled back to retrieve something from his pocket. Her collar. Though he only pressed it into her palm, the cool caress of the leather brought new tears to her eyes. It felt like Heaven. Better still, it felt like home. “I love you, Rayna. And I need you. Kneeling at my feet as my submissive…standing at my side as my wife.”
She barely suppressed a sob as the choir fell silent. A breeze kicked up down the street, but all the candles stayed amazingly lit. Zeke barely moved. She wasn’t sure he even breathed.
“If she doesn’t say yes, gorgeous, you just bring that scrumptious ass over here.”
Everyone broke out in laughter at Mrs. Hopper’s flirtation. Through her giggles and her tears, Rayna looked down at the hulk who’d transformed into a prince for her. The soldier who’d fought so many of her enemies, including his own demons. And the Dom who’d set her free from her own dark nightmares.
“I think I need to go get dressed,” she finally told him.
Zeke’s brows waggled. “You look just fine to me, honey.”
“Not if I’m going to let you take me shopping, Sir.”
Zeke’s grin split his face apart as he surged to his feet and conquered her mouth in a consuming kiss. Cheers rose up, including Mrs. Hopper’s gleeful screech, as the wings of fifty doves beat the air in celebration. As Zeke kept kissing her, the choir started singing again.
Aerosmith had never sounded so good.