Wednesday Tease: Dirty Pool #ComingSoon

It'll be just a couple of weeks before Dirty Pool is out in the world. I can't wait to share the story of Michel and Gabbie. Oh, and they're on preorder!

If you haven't grabbed your copy yet, you should.

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Amazon - Releasing May 6th (in KU)
iTunes - Releasing April 29th
Barnes & Noble - Releasing April 29th

And onto the snippet:

Michel set himself up at the far end of the table near the left pocket. Bending down over the edge, he rested his stick on the wooden side, and measured how far the last striped ball on the table was from the cue ball, and which pocket he wanted to choose for it. His bigger problem was the fact that the eight ball was in the way, and if he sunk that fucker on accident firstbefore the striped nine ball, then he was going to lose.

Not a problem.

He settled on a trick shot that would have the cue ball spinning back around to crack the eight ball into a pocket after sinking the nine ball into the right side pocket.

Michel pointed his cue ball at the far left pocket he planned to sink the nine ball into, saying, “Game with this shot—left pocket for the nine.”

“No way you’re going to hit that.”

“All right,” Michel replied dryly.

He bent down again, aimed his pool cue, and took the shot without overthinking it. That’s when he always missed his shots, so he’d learned to just trust his instincts, and go with it. A lot like the rest of his life, honestly.

He wondered if Detroit was going to be the same.

Were his instincts about this place right?

Sure enough, the nine ball sunk into the far left pocket before the cue ball hit the corner, causing it to spin back around and crack right into the eight ball. He almost thought the eight wouldn’t sink into a pocket when it slowed near the middle, but it crawled its way home.

Michel stood from the pool table, turning to face his opponent. The guy wasn’t looking at him, though, but rather … at the woman coming their way.

Damn.

Michel’s mouth went dry.

She looked good in tight skinny jeans that seemed to be painted onto her legs, showing off the shape of her thighs and hips. Not to mention legs for days. God, yeah, he was such a fucking leg man. She’d let her loose, red curls down around her shoulders, and while she didn’t have a lot of makeup on, the red lipstick was more than enough to pop.

And that crop top?

Showing off her bare tummy?

A navel he’d like to lick?

“What are you doing here?” he asked her.

Gabbie came up alongside the table, and shrugged one shoulder. “They talk a lot—my da’s people, I mean. I guess they’re watching you. You frequent this place, huh? They mentioned it when I was around the other night, and I figured … if I had time, I wanted to come and say hello.”

Michel blinked.

They were watching him?

Still?

Fuck.

“And what, you thought it’d be smart to come find me?”

Gabbie smiled. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not smart.”

Nothing was, lately.

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