Cover Reveal! Cup of Sugar by Karla Doyle

Welcome to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked for a very special event. My friend Karla Doyle, an erotic romance author who infuses her books with humor, has asked me to help show off her gorgeous new cover art for her upcoming release, Cup of Sugar.

This is the first book in her new Close to Home series and it's bound to be good. Karla's books will make you laugh, and remind you there are still great things in the world. :)

Here's the blurb:

After several failed relationships, Nia has one rule—don’t date neighbors. Simple, except the guy next door is single, handsome, and not inclined to close his blinds while naked. When her car dies, Conn takes “being neighborly” to a new level by offering a ride to her long-distance destination. Nia has resisted his looks and charm for months. Surely she can handle a few hours in his truck…

For months, Conn has blatantly put himself on display, hoping his pretty blonde neighbor would tire of secretly watching and come knock on his door for a cup of sugar—or more. No such luck—until an unusual opportunity arises. After a six-hour drive turns into a sweet-and-sexy weekend, Conn wants more than neighborly status with Nia. To get it, he must convince her to break the rule protecting her heart—by putting his on the line.

You can find Cup of Sugar on Goodreads and you can add it to your "want to read" shelf.
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EXCERPT

Well, look at that—Nia’s little Chevy, its lights on, but not running. Perfect timing.

Conn pulled into his side of the joined driveway and parked beside her car. For the eight months since she’d moved in next door, the twenty-four feet of asphalt separating their houses had been almost impassable. Whenever he got close to crossing the distance, something or somebody got in the way. A time-consuming sideline job he couldn’t afford to pass up. Phone calls from his family that he had to answer. His pissed-off ex-girlfriend dropping by to unleash her rage. Yeah, that last one had particularly sucked. 

The times he’d had the opportunity to speak to Nia, she’d blushed throughout their brief, casual conversations, bolting as soon as she had the chance. Polite, neighborly waving seemed to be her preferred method of communication. 

But he’d caught her looking his way. Many times. The pretty blonde’s ability to fry his circuits with her stolen glances had had Conn on high alert for months. Hell, he’d purposely put himself on display—doing all kinds of things—hoping she’d get tired of secretly watching and come knocking on his door. She never did.

He wasn’t one for making New Year’s resolutions, but this opportunity called for one. Tonight, he resolved that Nia wouldn’t get away so easily.

His steel-toed boots hit the snow-covered ground. Not much accumulation yet, but the forecast called for six inches before the calendar rolled over at midnight. He’d shovel it before it piled up, then again later, when it quit coming down. He’d do Nia’s side of the driveway too, as he did whenever she didn’t beat him to the job. She was a petite thing, but never shied away from property maintenance. Such as climbing a ladder to clean out the eaves troughs—which she’d done wearing cut-off jean shorts and a pale-pink, body-hugging tank top. Best day in all of August, that one.

He left the shopping bags in the back of his truck and cut between their vehicles. The groceries could wait a few. Spotlights mounted on Nia’s backyard pergola illuminated most of the driveway. She hadn’t started her engine, nor had she gotten out of the car. Intentionally avoiding him? If so, about time he found out why. 

He bent and peered through the window, giving a light rap on the glass as he did. “Hey, neighbor.”

Her muffled “hello” was as soft as Conn imagined her skin and hair would be—if she ever let him close enough to find out. Her gloved hands gripped the hell out of the steering wheel. The keys dangled from the ignition. Small clouds formed and dissipated as she breathed the cold air. She darted another glance at him, but didn’t move.

“Everything okay, Nia?”

Her shoulders slumped and a larger puff of fog left her lips. “My car won’t start.”

Chalk this one up as a late Christmas present from the universe. He motioned at the passenger door. She nodded in response, so he opened it, stuck his head and shoulders inside. “I’m at your service. I can jump you or give you a ride.”

She squeaked—actually squeaked—and the frost melted from her expression. Oh, she was still pink in the cheeks, the color just didn’t look cold-weather-induced. Maybe this New Year’s Eve wouldn’t completely suck after all.

Thanks for stopping by. Keep an eye out for Cup of Sugar. Happy reading. :)