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And now here's a little peek at The Wild Ones, by New York Times best selling author, M. Leighton!







I’m so, so grateful and humbled to be featured at the end of this awesome chick’s book! The following is an excerpt of my New Adult Contemporary Romance called The Wild Ones. For information on where to purchase this or any of my other books, please visit me at my blog https://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com or send me an e-mail at m.leighton.books@gmail.com I’d love to hear from you! I hope you enjoy the first chapter:)
The Wild Ones


Passion as hot as midnight in the South and love as wild as the horses they tame.


Camille “Cami” Hines is the darling daughter of the South’s champion thoroughbred breeder, Jack Hines. She has a pedigree that rivals some of her father’s best horses. Other than feeling a little suffocated at times, Cami thought she was pretty happy with her boyfriend, her life and her future.

But that was before she met Patrick Henley.

Trick” blurs the lines between what Cami wants and what is expected of her. He’s considered the “help, ” which is forbidden fruit as far as her father is concerned, not to mention that Trick would be fired if he ever laid a hand on her. And Trick needs his job. Desperately. His family depends on him.

The heart wants what the heart wants, though, and Trick and Cami are drawn to each other despite the obstacles. At least the ones they know of.

When Trick stumbles upon a note from his father, it triggers a series of revelations that could ruin what he and Cami have worked so hard to overcome. It turns out there’s more to Trick’s presence at the ranch than either of them knew, secrets that could tear them apart.

  CHAPTER ONE- Cami
Sipping my beer, I look around at the familiar scene. If the honky tonk music blaring from the speakers in the ceiling hadn’t been enough to scream COUNTRY BAR, the sea of cowboy hats would have been. I smile as I adjust the black one that sits atop my own head. I love being incognito. Even if, by chance, someone I know stumbles into the smoke-filled dive, they’d never believe it was me looking out from beneath the brim. Something hits the back of my barstool—hard—just as I put the glass to my lips. Ice cold beer pours down my chin and straight into my cleavage. I suck in a breath. “’Scuse me, ” a deep voice rumbles in my ear. Two hands grip my upper arms and pull me back, keeping me from tipping right out of my seat. I’m looking down at my soggy jeans and t-shirt when I feel the hands disappear. Half a second later, a face appears in my line of sight. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? ” My fingers stop plucking wet cotton away from my chest and I stare. Quite rudely, I might add. I’m speechless. Literally. And that, like, never happens to me. The most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen are staring back at me. They are pale greenish-gray, rimmed in sooty lashes and filled with concern. A sharp jab to my shin makes me let out the breath I hadn’t been aware of holding. I see my best friend Jenna’s head poke out from behind the mystery face. I know she kicked me and I know she’s trying to get my attention, but I can’t look away from these eyes long enough to glare at her. God, his eyes! I’ve never seen eyes that make me want to gasp and giggle and do a strip tease all at once. But these do. They flicker down, letting me go just long enough to collect my wits. I find very few of them. They are well and truly scattered. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are wrinkled at the corners. He’s smiling. And holy hell, what a smile it is! “Does it make me a bad person for liking your shirt better this way? ” I glance down at myself. My dark pink bra is plainly visible through the now-wet paper thin material of my pale pink shirt. So are my very erect nipples. I blush, mortified. Why, oh why did I wear a light pink t-shirt with a dark pink bra? Because you can’t see your bra through it when it’s dry, dumb ass. A thumb brushes my right cheek. “God, that’s sexy, ” he whispers. Against my will, my eyes fly to his face. His smile has died to a lopsided grin that is devastation in its purest form. “I’ve never made a girl blush before.” I laugh nervously, struggling to find my voice, to find my dignity. “Somehow I doubt that, ” I say softly. “Wow! The hair of a devil, the face of an angel and the voice of a phone sex operator. You really are the perfect woman.” To my utter humiliation, my cheeks burn even hotter. Curse my fair skin! Reaching into his pocket, Hot Stranger pulls out a couple bills and slides them across the bar. “Another of whatever…” He trails off, looking at me in question, waiting for me to fill in the blank. “Cami, ” I say, trying to hold back my grin. Smooth way of getting my name. Chalk one up for Hot Stranger. “Another of whatever Cami is having.” He turns back to me, a wicked gleam in his smoky eyes. “Sorry about your drink. Not so much about your shirt, though, ” he admits candidly. Willing myself not to blush again, I tilt my head. “So, do clumsy strangers have names in this place? Or are you just called ‘bull in china shop’? ” The lopsided grin comes back. “Patrick, but my friends call me Trick.” “Trick? As in trick or treat? That kind of trick? ” He laughs and my stomach flutters. It actually flutters. “Yep. That kind of trick.” He sobers and leans in close to me. “Cami, can I ask a favor? ” I’m breathless again. He’s so close I can count every hair in the stubble that dusts his tan cheeks. For just a second, his clean manly scent overrides the cigarette smoke and stale beer smell of the bar. I lose my voice—again—so I nod. “Pick ‘treat.’ Please, for the love of God, pick ‘treat’.” Like an idiot, I say nothing. I do nothing. I simply stare. Like a…a…well, like an idiot. He makes a disappointed noise with his lips then starts shaking his head. “Too bad. Woulda made my night.” He straightens, takes a step back and smiles at me again. “Nice to meet you, Cami, ” he says, and then he turns and melts into the crowd.
********


“Earth to Cami! ” Tearing my gaze away from the broad-shouldered, slim-hipped view of Trick walking away, I turn to Jenna. “What? ” “Is that all you have to say? ‘What’? ” She’s grinning. “What would you like me to say? ” I’m still a little addled. Or is it bedazzled? “Um, I’d like to hear your plan for getting your lame ass off that stool and going over there to collect on that treat! ” “Eavesdrop much? ” “He was practically sitting in my lap while he hit on you. What was I supposed to do? ” “Uh, move! ” Jenna snorts. Not a great sound, but somehow she makes it seem cute and girlie. “And miss that view? I was all but catatonic just looking at him. He is seven kinds of hot, Cam! ” I giggle. “Listen to you. You’ve got a boyfriend. Or have you conveniently forgotten that we are meeting people here? ” “I haven’t forgotten. Have you? ” I nod at her. “Touché, pussycat.” In truth, I had. From the time I’d looked up into Trick’s eyes, I hadn’t thought of Brent one time. And that can’t be a good sign. Brent has never made me feel what this guy has in three minutes. “Meh, ” she says, waving her hand dismissively as she sips her own beer. “Don’t give it a second thought. Looking at him is kinda like staring at the sun. You see spots and you’re dizzy for a while, but then it goes away.” I wonder to myself if I really want it to go away. I can’t ever remember a guy making me feel this way. I can’t stop myself from looking into the crowd again. I scan the endless ocean of hats until my gaze stops on one dark head. The hair is longish and has a slight wave to it. I know without having to see his face that it’s Trick. It just seems right that he’d be the only guy in the place not wearing a cowboy hat. Almost like he can feel my eyes or my thoughts on him, Trick turns around. His gaze locks with mine like there isn’t a room full of people between us. We stare at each other for a few seconds and then, real slow, he grins. Good God, he has dimples! I might die! Right on cue, my cheeks get hot. Here we go again. His grin widens into a smile and he winks at me. I’m pretty sure my toes are numb. I watch him turn away. Before his head completely disappears, I consider what Jenna said. Maybe I should go and ask for the treat…
I jump when I feel fingers at my neck, brushing my hair back. “You looking for me? ” I recognize the voice. It’s Brent. I sigh. It’s not right that I should feel a little disappointed. But I do. The time for me to be reckless has past. The door of opportunity has officially been closed. By Brent. I turn on my stool. I smile up into the face of Brent Thomason, my quasi-boyfriend. Brent is no slob in the looks department. His sandy hair has that purposefully messy look and his dark brown eyes have an exotic tilt I’ve always found very appealing. But even as I stare into them, I’m picturing smoky greenish-gray ones. “Were you looking for me? ” he asks again. I dodge the question, playfully poking him in the chest. “You’re late! ” “I can’t be too perfect. Gotta keep a girl like you on her toes.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then brushes my lips with his. “Did you get the ‘Vette running? ” I ask, leaning back. “No. That’s why I’m late. I just talked to the guy that was supposed to take a look at it for me. Since I couldn’t even get it here, he agreed to look at it tomorrow night instead. I’ll get it out there even if I have to have it towed, ” he growls in determination. As usual, I find Brent’s passion about his car a little bit of a turn on. One of my father’s obsessions is vintage cars. We have a garage full of them and I know enough about them to talk like I’ve got some sense. “Out where? ” He shrugs. “Eh, some sort of field thing. You know how country people are.” I feel my frown, but can’t stop it. I know Brent doesn’t really mean anything by the comment, but it still bothers me. Unlike most of my friends, I know what life without money looks like, feels like. Granted, it was a long time ago, but some things a girl never forgets. Sexy eyes drift through my mind… “I want to get that thing running so I can drive you around and show you off. I mean, drive it around and show it off.” He grins at me. I grin back. The sad thing is, I think he had it right the first time.


Other books by Chelsea M. Cameron:

Nocturnal (Book One in The Noctalis Chronicles)

Nightmare (Book Two in The Noctalis Chronicles)

Whisper (Book One in The Whisper Trilogy)


Coming Christmas 2012: Silence, Book Two in The Whisper Trilogy.


Find Chelsea online at: leftandwrite7.blogspot.com or contact her: chel.c.cam@gmail.com

 


For my parents, especially Dad. I hope you’re proud of me. For my friends, who are my escape from the imaginary and realize there is a world outside my head, even if they have to drag me into it. For all my online friends. You make me feel like I’m not alone when I’m sitting alone at my computer. You mean more to me than I can say. I adore all your virtual faces. For all the book bloggers who have been so supportive of this story from the beginning. You overwhelm me with your expectations. I will try my best to meet them. For all the authors who have helped me along my indie journey. Your support and friendship is worth more than hitting a million best seller lists. For my beta reader, my soul twin. I heart your face. For my editor, who gave me confidence in this story. I hope you aren’t sick of me yet  For all my musical inspirations, especially The Head and the Heart, The Civil Wars and Taylor Swift. You’ll probably never be aware of this, but you’ve given me enough inspiration to last a lifetime. And lastly, for you, whoever you are, reading this. I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey you took with Hunter and Taylor. Thank you for being a part of my dream.

 


About the author

 

Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA writer from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.


My Favorite Mistake is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.


No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. All rights reserved.


Copyright © 2012 Chelsea M. Cameron


 




Ten

 

Monday morning I woke up a little excited. It was my first day at the library in the afternoon, and I was nervous, but happy to be having some money coming in. I would cut off my hand before asking my mother to spot me some. She had enough worries without me being a mooch. I took out my retainer and glanced over at Hunter. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, as if he was blocking them from the sun. His other arm was slung over the side of his bed. Somehow his sheets always managed to cover what they needed to cover. Except... I shoved my face under the covers. I did not just see that. I peeked out again. Yup. Hunter Jr. was awake and standing at attention. Oh. My. God. I faced the wall, unable to look at it anymore. He moaned, rolling over. I stayed as still as I could, but suddenly, I got a fit of the giggles. I stuffed my blanket in my mouth, but it didn't help. Hunter sighed and moved again. I really, really didn't want him to wake up. The giggling continued. I was in deep and there was no end in sight. “What's so funny? ” His voice made me jump, killing all hope I had of pretending I was asleep. I froze anyway, hoping he'd think I was having a nightmare or something. “I can still hear you laughing, ” he said, and I heard him grabbing his boxers. How could he get them on over... “Why don't you come over here and give me a hand instead of giggling like a twelve-year-old, ” he said, somehow getting the boxers on. “Why don't you just take care of it yourself? That's probably what you usually do.” “That's what you think.” He walked out of the room and shut the door. The giggles finally took over and I was lost. Something about man bits was just hilarious. My fit continued until I had tears on my face. I lay in bed after it was over, gasping and trying to regain my composure. It was only seven, but there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I might as well get up and do some homework. I needed to wash my face and brush my teeth, but I wasn't going near the bathroom once I knew Hunter was out of it. I parked myself in the living room with my textbooks, a bowl of cereal and a cup of black coffee. I heard the shower turn off and glued my eyes to my book. “Shower's free, ” he said, behind me. I made a noncommittal sound and pretended I was absolutely fascinated with my French textbook. I heard him walking closer and I kept my head facing away. “You come any closer with that and I'll break it off. Got it? ” “You're feisty this early in the morning. I like it. Watcha reading? ” He leaned over my shoulder, his damp skin inches from my face. “Go away, Hunter. Seriously.” “Fine, fine.” He shuffled back to the bedroom, and I went back to my homework. An hour later Darah stumbled toward the coffeepot. “What are you doing up so early? ” she said. “Couldn't sleep.” “Was that you laughing like a psycho earlier? ” “Yeah, sorry. I didn't wake you up, did I? ” “Meh, ” she said, gripping the coffee cup and taking a deep sip. “I wake up if Renee breathes too loudly. Not your fault. So, ” she said, shoving some of my books aside so she could sit next to me, “what was all the giggling about? ” “It's nothing, ” I said, the giggles threatening to come up again. “Just something I was thinking about.” “Or someone? ” She poked my shoulder. “No.” “Yeah, that was very convincing, Taylor. There is something going on between you and Hunter. Everyone else seems to see it but you.” “The only thing that's going on is that he drives me up a wall and I want him to get hit by a bus.” “Right, sure.” “I'm serious! ” “Okay, Taylor. Whatever you say.” She gave me a look and went back to her coffee, and I went back to whatever the hell I was working on and not thinking about Hunter.

I headed for my first day at the library with nerves and excitement. I punched my old-fashioned timecard and walked back to the office. “Hello, Taylor, it's nice to see you again, ” Tom said, shaking my hand. There were a few other people who worked in the department, and I was introduced to Nancy, Mary and Jeff. “And this is the student worker section. We usually only have two workers at a time. The other student who shares your shift should be here any moment.” I was a little early. He showed me to a desk that was split into two workstations facing each other with two ancient desktops, lots of stamp pads and pens. “Oh, here he is, ” Tom said, turning around. I turned my head and saw my coworker. “Fancy seeing you here, Missy. Small world.” Hunter Zaccadelli, we meet again. “You have got to be kidding.” “Do you two know each other? ” Tom looked both confused and uncomfortable. “We're roommates, ” I said. “Well, it is a small world. That's not going to be a problem, is it? ” “No, not at all, ” I said. There was no way I was giving up this job. “Agreed, ” Hunter said. Tom gave us a look, but took our word for it. “Okay, then. For today I just need you to complete a few workplace safety tests. It's a pain you have to do them, but they're required for all new employees.” Hunter sat down directly across from me and booted up the computer. I did the same as Tom told us how to log in to the website and what the test would entail. Didn’t seem too difficult. “You sure this is okay? I know how hard it can be to work with someone you live with. My wife used to work in this department.” He smiled and we both reiterated that it would be fine. At least for now. We’d only been there for a few minutes, and I was still reeling. I didn’t believe in luck, but I seemed to be having a lot of the bad kind lately. Hunter and I got to work on a stupid safety multiple-choice test. I had to keep moving my feet because he kept invading my space. “Will you stop that? ” I said after he stretched his feet out under my chair for the millionth time. “Why? I like pissing you off. It's the best part of my day.” I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but instead I turned my attention back to my computer screen. Seconds later, my email made a pinging sound to tell me I had a new message. I'd pulled it up in case any of my professors sent a message that I needed to read right away. I didn't need more than one guess to know who the ping was from.
Subject: You're totally picturing me naked right now Missy, So how about you and I head up to the stacks to do some “shelving”?
I glared at the message before hitting reply.
Subject: This is a work environment and this is harassment Mr. Zaccadelli, I am writing to inform you that your proposition has been rejected. Due to both the fact that we are coworkers, as well as roommates, I would find it inappropriate to “visit the stacks” with you. I will reject all further offers at this time. If, in the future, I decide to entertain such an offer, I will inform you via correspondence. Respectfully (not) yours, Miss Taylor Caldwell P.S. Stop fucking emailing me.
I watched his eyes skim the message and a smirk cross his face. He looked straight into my eyes as he typed away, never glancing at the keyboard. He banged the enter key with a little nod. Ping.
Subject: Not a chance Missy, I accept your challenge, and may I remind you, that if you want me to leave you alone, there is that little bet we have going. Win it, and I'm gone. Impatiently (and nakedly) yours, Mr. Hunter Aaron Zaccadelli, esquire. P.S. Bring it on. Oh, he was not getting the last word. I turned the volume down on my computer and did a quick visual sweep of the room to make sure we weren't going to get busted. Everyone else was absorbed in what they were doing.
Subject: Challenge accepted Mr. Zaccadelli, If you keep this up, I'm going to report you to the workplace hotline for harassment. They don't take kindly to tattooed, guitar-playing dudes making advances toward sweet, innocent girls. Game ON. Sincerely, The Girl You Will Never Have P.S. Esquire? You are so full of shit
I heard a muffled laugh from Hunter's side of the desk, but I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen. Ladders. Safety precautions when working with ladders... Ping. I glared at the computer in irritation. Guess you couldn't turn the sound off.
Subject: Get back to work Missy, You're distracting me from the very important topic of workplace safety. How would you feel if I improperly climbed a ladder due to not learning the proper procedure and then fell to my death? Always, The Boy You Dream About P.S. I'm also a lost prince from a faraway land. Want to do me now?
“How are we doing? ” Tom was back. I closed my email window and went back to the test. I wasn't as far as I should be with the test, but that wasn’t completely my fault. “Done, ” Hunter said with one last mouse click. Asshat. “I have a few left, ” I admitted. “Okay, well come find me when you're done, and we'll do a little tour and get you started on some shelving.” Hunter leaned back in his chair, and from the look on his face I could tell he was pleased with himself. God, I wanted to punch him again, but then I'd get fired and I really needed this job. I finished my test with Hunter looking on and I didn't get any further emails. I wanted to text him that if he fell from a ladder it would save me from having to try and win the bet, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. The rest of our few hours of work was uneventful, if you could call Hunter “accidentally” brushing his hand on my ass several times as Tom showed us the closed stacks on the third floor of the library where most of the documents were kept and taught us the rudiments of the call number system uneventful. “One more time and those fingers will be gone, ” I hissed when Hunter brushed my backside a third time as we got back in the elevator to go down to the first floor. Tom went over our schedules and wrote them on a whiteboard. I was relieved to find that Hunter and I only had two shifts the same, so at least I'd have the rest of the time Hunter-free. “Well, we're very happy to have you on board and we'll see you tomorrow, ” Tom said as Hunter and I gathered up our bags. “Thank you again, I really appreciate it, ” I said. “See you tomorrow, ” Hunter said, gesturing for me to exit first. “Ladies first.” I walked through and I could feel his eyes on my butt. I didn't say a word until we were outside. I turned around and gave him a sweet smile, stepping close and biting my lip. “So, um, I was thinking...” Hunter's eyes went wide for half a second before he started to smile. Haha. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into a nook behind the library where people wouldn't see us. I laughed and moved closer to him. He reached for me... And I slammed him with my bag. “You asshole! Are you seriously stalking me? Of all the places for you to get a job, you choose the same office as me? SERIOUSLY?! ” I went for another hit, but he was ready this time. “Hey, hey! I didn't know, okay? ” We fought for control of the bag, but since he had more leverage he won. “Jesus, stop hitting me. Has anyone ever told you that you have an anger problem? ” “More than one therapist, ” I said, lunging for my bag. He pulled his arm back and up so it was securely out of my reach. “Whoa, there. Calm down.” “Don't tell me what to do.” “Okay, fine. Freak out.” He held the bag out to me, and I waited a second before I ripped it away from him. For only the third time I saw a look other than cocky assurance on Hunter's face. I hated the look of concern even more than the confident one. “Screw you, ” I said, storming away. I hated him. I hated how he got under my skin. I hated how, for a second, I thought about pushing him up against the library and making out with him. I hated him. I hated him. How could I prove it before it was too late and I actually followed through with kissing him? I couldn't fall for Hunter. I couldn't fall for anyone.


 

 



 


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