She’s his bodyguard. Nothing more.
Until it starts to snow.
Drama King, an all-new swoony, hilarious, opposites attract standalone
holiday romp from New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid, is now available!
Stuck with her off-limits, taciturn, hunky movie star client during a
sudden snowstorm on Christmas Eve, an extremely capable and highly
professional bodyguard must keep him alive and warm without letting the
tension building between them get too hot.
Bathsheba (Beth) Ryan can’t thank her best friend enough for helping
her land the job of her dreams. After being relegated to second-string
security for politicians in DC, being hired as an undercover personal
security specialist by a giant Hollywood studio is exactly the kind of
action she’s always wanted.
Until she meets her first assignment.
Cyrus Malcom can’t thank his agent enough for arranging a blind date
with seemingly the woman of his dreams. After spending the past several
years playing all the parts and climbing all the ladders, the lonely mega
movie star finds himself actually enjoying a night on the town for the first
time in ages when he meets the gorgeous, funny, and genuine Ryaine
O’Rourke.
Until she shows up at his studio meeting the next day with a completely
different name.
A world-wide press tour and too many late-night parties later, Beth simply
needs to get through a short, one-day visit during the Christmas holiday,
and then she’ll be free of Cyrus Malcom’s confusing hot looks
and cold shoulders for good.
But just as they leave the airport, it starts to snow . . .
‘Drama King’ is the second book in the Three Kings Series, is a
full-length, contemporary romantic comedy, and can be read as a complete
standalone.
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Amazon Worldwide: https://mybook.to/dramaking
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Keep reading for a look inside Drama King!
“Do you want to listen to music?” I asked softly. “Or
talk radio?”
“No, thank you,” he said shortly, shifting in his seat again
while he kept on staring and frowning out the window. “You’ll
need to take a right when you get to Old Whiskey Road.”
“You don’t want to go through downtown Alenbach?”
“No. I’ve seen it before.” His response was
uncharacteristically irritable.
Fighting a bout of nerves, I considered my next question, or whether I
should ask a question.
One popped in my head and I wondered if it was too personal. But you know
what? I decided, to heck with it. I wouldn’t see Cyrus again after
today, not in any meaningful way. If he clammed up, so be it. I had nothing
to lose.
I waited another mile or so, then asked, “Do you miss
it?”
—at the exact same time he demanded, “Why did you pick me
up?”
Stiffening at the hostility in his tone, I redoubled my efforts to focus on
the road and responded calmly, “I was already here and the studio
asked.”
I got the sense he was waiting for me to continue. When I didn’t, he
asked, “That’s it? There’s no other reason?”
Chewing on my bottom lip, my thoughts drifted to the watch in my pocket.
“What other reason would there be?” I hedged, testing the wiper
controls to see if it had a higher setting. It didn’t. I felt like we
were creeping along at this point and we’d be lucky to make it before
nightfall.
His eyes still on me, he grumbled something I missed, then asked, “Do
I miss what?”
I considered saying, Nothing, forget it, but my reasoning for asking the question was still sound.
“Do you miss Texas? Do you miss being close to your momma and all
these wide-open spaces? The culture out here?” I went back to chewing
my bottom lip, feeling unaccountably nervous. Carefully, I slowed the car
and turned onto Old Whiskey Road. This was the bypass road for Alenbach,
which was still some thirty miles ahead.
The snow seemed to thicken while I waited for him to answer. We traveled
another mile and I glanced at Cyrus, our eyes connecting for the first time
since he’d arrived at the Austin airport.
I absorbed the shock of it, breathed through it. Meanwhile, he stared at
me, some combination of puzzled and stunned.
Braving another quick look, I asked, “What’s
wrong?”
“I believe that’s the first time you’ve asked me a
personal question directly.”
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I struggled with how to respond, and
eventually blurted, “That can’t be true.”
“It is. What do you know about me?” The question sounded like
an accusation. “We worked together for four months and not
once—not once—did you make any effort to know me. Why is that?”
A hot, spiky feeling pressed uncomfortably outward against my skin. The
truth was, I knew more than I wanted to admit. “I—I know
plenty.”
“Really? How? Are you a mind reader? What am I thinking right
now?”
My breath wanted to hitch. I wouldn’t let it. I tried to focus on my
irritation, not this strange sense that I’d let him down.
“Go ahead,” he demanded. “Tell me what I’m
thinking.”
Glancing at him, I saw a deeply furrowed brow, glinting narrowed eyes,
mouth tugged down at the corners, jaw set. Cyrus looked more like his
character Asmodeus than himself—a beautiful, surly, smoldering fallen
angel instead of a happy-go-lucky sweetheart with too much energy and
charisma.
“Well?” Cyrus pushed.
“Well, obviously you’re angry with me.”
“That’s right, I’m angry.”
“Fine. Be angry then!” I yelled.
“I don’t want to be angry with you!” he shouted back.
“I want to be the opposite of—oh shit”—he braced his
arm against the dash—“Stop!”
I saw the deer right before Cyrus did. It was huge. Despite my frazzled
state of mind and his insistence that I do so, I did not stop. I
didn’t swerve either, though every instinct screamed at me to yank the
wheel to the right.
Did you know deer kill more people than any other animal? Snakes and sharks
have nothing on Bambi. Some people think they’re cute, I blame Disney
for that. They’re not cute, they’re dumb. If you’re
unfortunate enough to see them in the road, stop only if it’s
convenient and you spot them from a distance and it’s not a winter hellscape outside.
But since this one appeared like a serial killer in a snowy slasher flick,
I didn’t stop. I pressed gently on the brakes, slowed, and braced for
impact. It came with a forceful, bone-shaking boom. Airbags deployed, filling my face and vision. The jolt of it caused my
foot to press harder on the brake—rookie mistake, I should’ve
removed my foot—and that’s when the shit hit the fan.
Add DRAMA KING to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/3GmfERZ
Meet Penny Reid
Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Winston Brothers and Knitting in the City
series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a
biomedical researcher, but now she writes kissing books. Penny is an
obsessive knitter and manages the #OwnVoices-focused mentorship incubator /
publishing imprint, Smartypants Romance. She lives in Seattle Washington
with her husband, three kids, and dog named Hazel.
Connect with Penny
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PennyReidWriter/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lakzsD
Twitter: @ReidRomance
Mailing List: http://pennyreid.ninja/newsletter/
Website: www.pennyreid.ninja
All Folked Up by Penny Reid
