Today is the day four of The Werewolf Wears Prada by Kristin Miller Blog Tour, I had the greatest opportunity to read Kristin's new series and now again interview her mind once again.
I bet that her wedding would be extravaganza!
Thank you Kristin for stopping on by! And I can't wait to read the next book and as far that little "project" it's still in progress hopefully I'll dive back into it soon! If anyone's wondering what this "project" is I'm writing an Fan-Fic story BUT I'm not going to tell you who it is!!!!
Now check out this excerpt and then enter the giveaway for some great prizes!!!!
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Life is not a
fairy tale.
Melina Rae
Rosenthal had lived her entire life repeating that mantra to herself. She’d
kissed a long list of frogs, and put up with a lot of B.S. Today, however, made
her question whether she’d been wrong, and incredibly bitter, all those years.
She’d been asked out by one of the most eligible bachelors on the planet.
Prince Charming
had finally arrived.
There was only
one thing missing: a fairy godmother who’d wave a glittery wand in front of her
face and turn her yoga pants into a puffy blue dress.
“I’ve got
nothing to wear.” Melina dove into her walk-in closet, tossing leather pants
and a fur poncho onto the bed behind her. “What am I going to do?”
Her best friend
Colleen squealed from the bedroom, probably ducking for cover. Not very
fairy-godmother-like. “Just calm down. You’ve been skipping around all day like
Little Red Riding Hood on Redbull.”
“Not Redbull.
Espresso.” Throwing hangers behind her, Melina huffed and shoved two coats
apart. “I’ve had six today.”
“Six?” Colleen
laughed—one of those witchy cackles Melina both loved and hated her for. She
really was more like the Wicked Witch of the West than any fairy godmother
Melina had ever seen. “You and Hayden must’ve really hit it off.”
Merely hearing
his name made the hair on Melina’s arms stand on end.
Hayden Dean.
He was a San
Francisco business mogul, millionaire, and model magnet. He was also scorching
hot. Dark brown hair parted perfectly down the center with silky strands that
nearly brushed his ears. Creamy chocolate eyes set against golden tan skin.
Thick, swooping jaw, and a set of plush lips.
Totally Prince
Charming material.
Before today,
she might’ve settled for far less. She hadn’t had a date with a real man in
months. The ones she’d gone out with had turned out to be mama’s boys,
cat-callers, loud eaters, snorters, and scratchers. And if she went out with
another guy who called her “Doll” she was going to scratch out his eyeballs.
She’d started to
think the good ones were either already taken or dead.
“I’m telling
you, it was magic. He’s not anything like you see on E! News.” They’d painted
the famous Hayden Dean to be a stupid playboy. A chauvinist who cared for
nothing and no one but himself. To her surprise, he’d shown her none of those
things. “He’s unexpectedly…charismatic. And caring.”
Two hours
interviewing the drop-dead gorgeous hunk, and Melina knew he was the one she’d
been waiting for. The guy plucked straight from her dreams. He was tall, dark,
and unquestionably handsome—more so in person, if that was possible—so staring
at him while she fired questions about his personal life wasn’t the worst
assignment she’d ever had.
And she could go
off for hours about the trashy assignments she’d had from Celebrity Crush
magazine. She’d worked as the Celeb Life & Style columnist for eighteen
months, and longed to move up the ranks to Eclipse, the city’s leading fashion
magazine.
Every article
was one step closer to reaching that goal and leaving the unrealistic demands
of her editor behind her.
“I’m stoked you
two hit it off,” Colleen said, her voice laced with concern, “but they don’t
call him Hook-Up Hayden for nothing.”
A subtle twinge
in Melina’s gut warned Colleen might’ve had a point. All those stories about
Hayden’s womanizing ways couldn’t have been terribly off-mark. But how could
she turn down the chance to see for herself? Guys like Hayden didn’t come
around that often, if ever.
“I think I can
take care of myself.” Melina squeezed between two Gucci dresses. Exactly how
deep was her closet? “If you got to know him, you’d see he’s different. Deep
down, I don’t think he wants to be that way…the way everyone paints him to be.”
Colleen huffed.
“You really think you know him? Deep down? After two hours in Starbucks?”
“Maybe, maybe
not.” Melina’s fingers gripped silky-soft pleats. “Gotcha.”
She yanked a
Prada gown off its hanger and burst into the bedroom holding it high. The dress
was a gorgeous shade of eggplant. Grecian. Long and draping, with pleats on the
gown and a dangerously low V-neck.
“Ooh!” Colleen
crooned, jumping off the bed, her platinum blonde locks bouncing over her
shoulder. “It looks like the one whats-her-face wore to that huge awards show
last season.”
“Yes, but this
one’s better. The V-neck is deeper, the skirt is tamer. The differences are
subtle, but it’s striking, don’t you think?” She stroked the pleats, seeing the
image take form. “I’m going to pair it with glittering gold Manolo Blahniks,
nude lips, and the most fabulous earrings I can find.”
What better way
to make a splash at the Silverlight Awards?
She still
couldn’t believe he’d asked her.
Infamous
womanizer Hayden Dean had leaned across their tiny table in the back corner of
Starbucks, gazed deep into her eyes, stirring something in her chest…and
whispered the words she never thought she’d hear: Be my date tonight?
Not only any
date. His date to the Silverlight Awards. She’d walk the red carpet. Mingle
with celebrities. Wave to the cameras. If she were lucky, she’d show up on E!
News. The minute she’d returned from the interview, Melina had set her TiVo to
record the event. Just in case.
“What do you
think?” Melina bounced on her toes and met her friend’s bright blue eyes,
practicing the show-stopping smile she’d give to the paparazzi that followed
Hayden around. “Am I going to rock his socks, or what?”
“Wow, Mel, I
don’t—I’m speechless.”
“Let’s hope he
is, too.”
“I don’t
understand why Hayden is going to the Silverlights in the first place,” Coleen
said, her gaze raking up and down the dress. “He’s not in the film industry.”
“No, but I guess
his father is on the Board of Governors and is getting some kind of honorary
award for his work.” She shrugged, excitement pulsing through her. “Hayden gets
two complimentary tickets.”
Colleen shook
her head slowly. “And he asked you to be his date…”
Melina flinched
at her friend’s disbelieving tone. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t mean it
like that.” Colleen grabbed Melina by the arm and dragged her to the edge of
the bed. They shoved clothes aside and plopped down, dangling their legs over
the edge. “It’s just that…isn’t he still dating that Sports Illustrated model?
You know, the one with the rack?”
“I’ve got a nice
rack.” Frowning, Melina grabbed handfuls of her B cups and held tight. “Okay,
okay, so they’re not as big as the other girls he’s dated, but at least they’re
real! Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I don’t know.”
Colleen shrugged. “I’m more of a leg girl.”
Melina snorted
into a belly laugh. “I don’t think the size of my boobs matter anyway. He
totally thinks I’m hot as-is.”
“Really?”
Colleen beamed, snatching Melina’s hands off her boobs. “He told you that?”
“He didn’t say
the words, but one glance and I could feel the chemistry. It was like—” How
could she possibly explain their connection? It was crackly. Sparkly. Fizzling
the air between them. “—Snap, Crackle, Pop.”
Colleen’s smile
fell, and she cocked a thinly-plucked eyebrow. “You’re talking about the
cereal? Sweetheart, I think we need to get you out more often. You shouldn’t
feel anything close to cereal when you’re with a guy like Hayden Dean. You
should melt. Like butter.”
“Oh, there was
definite melting going on.”
If Hayden had
been any hotter, he would’ve melted the panties right off her body.
“All right.”
Colleen nodded. “You better get your petite ass moving. He’ll be here in
twenty, right?”
Melina gasped,
shooting a glance at the clock on her bedside table.
Six o’clock.
“It can’t be
that late already!”
She swept off
the bed in a whirlwind, dug around in her drawer for a pair of Spanx, and
dashed into the bathroom. Squeezing into the bodysuit, she leaned and tugged as
the stretchy material inched up her body.
With a groan, she wiggled into the stunning Prada dress. Colleen zipped
up the back, oohing and aahing as Melina spun, excitement spearing through her.
For the next fifteen minutes, she applied her makeup. Dried her hair.
Straightened and smoothed down the fly-aways. If she hadn’t drained her bank
account to buy this dress last week, she might’ve had the money to pay for a
stylist. But things were tight.
As soon as she
landed a job at Eclipse, she’d be fine.
Six-thirty came
and went.
Glad to have a
few extra minutes, Melina wiggled her size eights into her sky-high shoes and
had Colleen strap them. She tweaked her hair. Reapplied her lipstick. Chose a
pair of long silver earrings with chunky beads hanging off them. They were high
fashion, bordering on gaudy, and they were perfect.
She checked the
time on her cell, and just in case, scanned the log for missed calls. There
weren’t any.
Nerves settled
in, though there was really no room for them in her dress.
“I’m sure he’s
having trouble parking,” Colleen said. But her voice didn’t sound so confident.
“Yeah.” Her lips
twitched. “Parking’s hellacious around here.”
Melina shrugged
off the doubt. As her toes protested the squeeze she’d put them under, she
lowered herself onto the bed—keeping her posture straight so the dress didn’t
crinkle—and then flicked on the flat-screen mounted to the wall.
“Look.” Using
the remote as a pointer, Melina poked it in the direction of the television. E!
News flashed over the screen. “People are already showing up.”
“I think they
show up early and circle the block over and over again, waiting for the perfect
moment to stop.” Colleen sat beside her, crossing her leather-clad legs at the
ankle. She was long and lanky—probably six inches taller than Melina, who stood
at five-foot-two on tiptoe—and hung her feet over the end of the bed. “I’m sure
some like to be there first thing, and others like to make an entrance. From
what I’ve heard, Hayden likes to have all eyes on him. I’m sure he won’t mind
being late.”
It must’ve been
Colleen’s mention of Hayden that made Melina see him emerge from a limo parked
at the curb. The camera angle was distant and from the side, so she couldn’t be
sure, but this man was the same height and general size, with the same
complexion. He turned before she could get a good look at his face. He extended
his hand for two blonde bombshells to exit the limousine behind him.
That couldn’t be
right.
Blinking quickly
to clear her head, Melina leaned forward as worry hardened into a ball in the
pit of her stomach.
“Mel,” Colleen
whispered, “is that…”
“I don’t think
so.”
Colleen had
either read her mind, or Hayden Dean was there with someone else. Two, to be
exact. As the camera angle zoomed on Hayden’s look-a-like, Melina’s heart
dropped to her Blahniks.
Hayden grinned
and held up the hands of his escorts as they spun for the cameras, their green
silky gowns hiding little of their curvy figures.
It was Hayden
Dean. Playboy. Casanova. Pompous ass.
“Oh my God,
Mel.” Colleen grasped her shoulders. “What a jerkhole!”
Melina nodded as
tears pinched her eyes. She wasn’t crying for him. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be.
She’d just been so freaking excited to be going to the Silverlight Awards. That
had to be it. She’d spent all day building up tonight’s experience. She’d
planned it all out in her head. Of course she’d feel deflated when the fantasy
didn’t match the reality.
Cinderella
wasn’t going to the ball after all.
Desperate to get
a closer glimpse of the television and Hayden’s smug face, Melina crawled over
the bed on her hands and knees. When she
reached the end, the breath whooshed out of her lungs.
“Are you okay?”
She heard Colleen say. “Mel?”
“I’m fine.”
Oh, she was far
from the bland emotion. She wanted to rip out Hayden’s tongue and shove it
where the sun didn’t shine. The man was a snake in—oh God, was that Prada? They
would’ve matched. They could’ve been the perfect pair.
“I should’ve
known better,” Melina mumbled. “I should’ve listened to my gut. Somewhere deep
inside I think I knew all those magazines couldn’t be wrong.” She shook her
head. “I gave Hayden Dean the benefit of the doubt, and two hours of my day.
Those are two things he didn’t deserve. I won’t spend another second thinking
about him.”
“Good for you.”
Melina sighed.
“I guess I just hoped—I just thought maybe for once, the fairy tale could
actually come true for me, you know?”
As her legs
cramped, she sat back. The ear-piercing sound of fabric ripping hit her ears.
She stilled, slowly glancing down. She brushed her fingers over a rip in the
Prada dress she’d spent her entire month’s earnings on.
Tears burning
her throat, Melina glared at Hayden’s face on the television screen and
realized two things.
By ripping her
Prada dress, she’d just committed a fashion sin.
And fairy tales
were most definitely real. They were. Maybe not for her, but for the girls on
Hayden’s arms. They radiated happiness, their wide, innocent eyes taking in the
fanciful scene around them. They smiled as she would’ve been smiling. If those
blondes could live in a dream, she could too. She had control over her life,
including who came in and out of it.
She should be
blissfully happy too.
Why’d she have
to wait for some dashing knight in shining armor to come riding in on a white
horse and sweep her off her feet?
She vowed, then
and there, in her torn Prada dress, that she’d make her fairy tale come
true…without an arrogant Prince Charming like Hayden Dean on her arm, acting as
if he was the one responsible for it all.
Giveaway
There will be 3 winners:
Signed copy of GONE WITH THE WOLF, bookmarks, glamour notebook, “Books
and Coffee” Starbucks cup
Signed copy of FOUR WEDDINGS AND A WEREWOLF, bookmarks, glamour
notebook, Custom WEREWOLF WEARS PRADA locket with interchangeable faces.
Signed copy of SO I MARRIED A WEREWOLF, bookmarks, ALEX AND ANI Rose
bracelet, “Books and Coffee” Starbucks cup
Bea’s English escape plan:
