FURIOUS RUSH Teaser Blitz
ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: FURIOUS RUSH
Author: S.C. Stephens
On Sale: August 23, 2016
Publisher: Forever
Format: Trade Paperback & eBook
Price: $12.99 USD (TP) / $4.99 USD (eBook)
The first in an emotion-fueled, New Adult series from the #1 bestselling author of the Thoughtless novels!
Too fast, too furious—and way too hot to handle…
Mackenzie Cox has a lot to prove. Daughter of a racing legend, she is eager to show the world that she has inherited her father's talent in the male-dominated sport of professional motorcycle racing. The last thing Kenzie needs is to be antagonized by her rival team's newest rider, Hayden Hayes. Plucked from the world of illegal street racing, Hayden immediately gets under Kenzie's skin. His insinuations that Kenzie is a spoiled princess who was handed her career fuels her desire to win, and much to her surprise, Kenzie soon learns she performs better when she's racing against Hayden.
As Kenzie and Hayden push each other on the track, the electric energy between them off the track shifts into an intense—and strictly forbidden—attraction. The only rule between their two ultra-competitive teams is zero contact. Kenzie always does her best to play by the rules, but when her team slips into a financial crisis, she has no choice but to turn to Hayden for help. The tension simmers during their secret, late-night rendezvous, but Kenzie has too much to lose to give in to her desires. Especially when she begins to doubt that Hayden has completely left his street life behind...
TEASER:
Honda Boy was
holding his helmet under an arm while he flirted with the girls surrounding
him. He was blond, with a short, shaggy hairstyle that probably took a lot more
effort to create than it looked like. I could tell from the way the girls
around him were tittering like teenagers that he was charming; with seemingly
little effort on his part, he had all of them eating out of his hand. When a
break in the crowd gave me a clear view of his face, I realized another thing:
He was smokin’, someone-hold-on-to-my-ovaries- before-they-explode hot.
There was a
perfect symmetry to his rugged features that made it seem unreal that he was
standing just a few feet away from me. He should be plastered on a billboard
somewhere, half-naked, selling overpriced cologne to men who wanted just a
fraction of his sex appeal. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he turned his
gaze my way. Our eyes met and locked, and I was helpless to turn away. There
was something carnal about him, primal and dangerous. Exotic. I was instantly captivated,
and I hated that I was. This guy was neck-deep in a world that twisted my
stomach, a world that spat in the face of my sport. My career.
As his
light-colored eyes bored holes into mine, one edge of his lip curved up in a
devilish crooked grin that was both playful and promising. He was practically
shouting, with just that one deadly smile, that he would satisfy my every
desire, satiate every craving I could possibly have. My heart started thudding
in my chest as sensations that had been dormant for far too long swirled to
life in- side me. Luckily for me, the big man taking the guy’s bets clapped him
on the shoulder, breaking our stare down. Once I was free of his steamy gaze, I
instantly turned around so my back was to him.
Jesus, was I breathing harder? Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. I was
twenty-two, not twelve.
“Damn,” I heard
Nikki say. “You were right. I should have bet on him from the get-go. I didn’t
really get a good look at him before, but he is freaking hot!”
Inhaling a deep
breath, I attempted to force my body back in line with my brain. “This guy is undefeated?” I asked Nikki.
“Really?” She nodded in answer and I had to close my eyes for a second. A face
like that with racing skills to boot? Jesus.
Clearing my
throat, I nonchalantly asked, “What did you say his name was again?” I could at
least label the guy in the fantasy I was surely going to have later.
“Hayden... something. He’s been around for
a while, from what I gathered.”
I risked a
glance over my shoulder at... Hayden. He’d slipped his helmet on, thankfully,
although his visor was popped up. The big guy taking bets had been joined by a
skinny Hispanic guy who seemed to be giving Hayden instructions. Or maybe a pep
talk. The little guy was acting out the race that was about to happen with his
hands, complete with swerving and explosions. God, I hoped there weren’t going
to be explosions. While he was going through his dramatic highlights, the big
guy looped a camera over Hayden’s helmet.
When the two
competitors were ready, they backed their motor- cycles onto the street. A
cheer ripped up and down the sidewalk as the hopeful gamblers prepared for
another round of racing. I didn’t want to feel anything but contempt for what I
was witnessing, yet the energy of the spectators, the roar of the bikes—I
couldn’t help the zing of excitement that raced up my spine. Against my will,
my mouth twisted into a wide grin, and a yell of encouragement left my lips.
Hayden’s helmet swiveled my way as he revved his engine. My pulse quickened as
our eyes met. Then he winked at me and slammed his visor shut.
As the riders
moved into position, Nikki grabbed my arm. “Come on. We can watch the action
from the van.”
I had no idea
what she was talking about. Before I could ask her, though, she yanked me
toward a black van parked on the sidewalk. The back doors were open, and a
giant monitor attached to a swinging metal arm was sticking out above the
hovering crowd. The screen was split in two, each half showing the footage from
one racer’s helmet cam. Hayden and his opponent were both looking straight
ahead, and the dual feeds showed similar stretches of barren road. Looking down
the street, I saw that the pair were stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the
light to change.
Returning my
eyes to the monitor, I found myself holding my breath as I waited for the
signal to change colors. When it turned green and the bikes surged forward, I
stepped closer to the van, like that would somehow release my pent-up energy.
In unison, the crowd around me started hooting and hollering. Swept up in the
moment, I bounced on my toes and prayed for speed. But after watching the
screen for just a few seconds, I was struck with the harsh reality of the
situation I was watching. This was no closed-off track with well-defined paths.
This was down and dirty, anything goes, just get to the finish line first
racing.
The bikes blew
through red lights like they meant absolutely nothing. The streets were fairly
empty at this early hour, but they blurred past the few vehicles on the road
like they were standing still; they had to be going 100 miles per hour, easy.
They dodged obstacles by hopping onto the sidewalk, they fishtailed around
slick corners, and they came close to colliding with oncoming traffic more than
once.
I turned to
Nikki with shock clear on my face. “This is insane! Someone’s going to get
hurt. Maybe killed!”
Nikki’s face was
pure elation as she watched the screens. Her expression changed as my words
sunk in, then she looked at me like I had a foot sticking out of my head. I
supposed it was odd to hear that type of statement coming from someone who
routinely hovered around the 150 mark on the speedometer while riding, but that
was a completely different kind of environment. Believe it or not, what I did
was safe, relatively speaking. Millions of dollars were spent to make it that
way. This was not safe. At all.
“They’re
breaking every traffic law there is,” I added, feeling like a giant stick in
the mud. Someone needed to be the voice of reason here, though, because
everyone was clearly out of their ever loving minds.
Nikki smirked at
my comment. “It’s a race, Kenzie. They can’t exactly drive cautiously. Why do
you think this happens so late at night?”
“Because it’s
illegal,” I deadpanned. I got a couple of odd looks from the crowd after saying
that, including a particularly nasty glare from Hayden’s bet collector. Maybe
this wasn’t the best place to be talking about the law. Shutting my mouth, I
quickly refocused on the screen.
Just as I
noticed a familiar section of street come into view on the monitor, one side of
the screen started wobbling, then the camera showed asphalt, sparks, spinning
scenery, and a rapidly approaching telephone pole. The crowd around me hushed
as it became clear that Hayden’s competition wasn’t going to finish this race.
I heard Hayden’s bike rounding the corner seconds later, then Nikki was once
again pulling me along like a rag doll. She shoved us into a good position to
see the finish line right as Hayden’s Honda whizzed past. He was alone. Cheers
erupted mixed with a few groans from the people who’d bet on the other guy.
Just as I was
wondering if anyone was going to go check on the Ninja rider, Nikki grabbed my
shoulders and started shaking me with uncontainable joy. “We won, Kenzie! We
frickin’ won!”
“Great,” I said,
clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t bite my tongue.
Releasing me,
Nikki let out a squeal of excitement. “I just made enough money to pay you back
and cover my loss. See, aren’t you
glad you came?”
I narrowed my
eyes into poisonous daggers that would hopefully drill some sense into her. “I
hate you,” I murmured. Nikki held a hand
over her heart. “I know by hate you mean love, and I love you too, Kenzie. Now
let’s collect my winnings and go home so you can rest up. Big year this year!”
I opened my
mouth to scold her with some biting remark about how I’d wanted to leave ages
ago, but she turned on her heel and left me there, gaping. Just as I was
forcing the muscles in my jaw to relax enough to contract, Hayden pulled up
next to where I was standing on the sidewalk. It felt like the world suddenly
shifted into slow motion as I turned my head to look at him.
He was still
hunched over his bike, hands on the grip and throttle; the only indication that
he was looking at me was the direction of his dark helmet. Then, like some
freaking Prince Charming in a fairy tale, he slowly removed his helmet and
tucked it under his arm. I swear the air around me condensed as his tilted
smile came into view. Jesus Christ, this guy was sex on a stick.
Reaching up, he
roughly ran a hand through his sweaty dirty- blond hair. The short, sexy shag
he’d had going on earlier was destroyed from the helmet, but somehow after just
a few scruffs of his hand, the carefree style was back to utter perfection. I
kind of wanted to mess it up again, run my hands through the strands, grab a
handful and clench it tight while I outlined those incredibly kissable lips
with my tongue.
Whoa. No. I
didn’t want that.
His penetrating
gaze studied my face for a moment. There was something there in his eyes that I
couldn’t quite grasp. Interest, sure, but almost... sadness too. Then he
smiled, and the look vanished so fast, I was sure I’d imagined it. “Haven’t
seen you here before,” he said, his voice low and easy, like he hadn’t just
risked his life. “I hope you bet on me. It would be a shame to see someone as
beautiful as you... lose.”
His grin turned
suggestive, and warning signs started flashing in front of my eyes. Danger! Do not proceed! Rocky road ahead!
Turn back now! The warnings flared even brighter when he stood from his
motorcycle and began approaching me.
When he was
directly in front of me, so close that I could smell the subtle spicy aroma of
his cologne, my heart was hammering so hard, I was positive he could hear it,
positive he could see my T-shirt lifting and releasing like a frantic
hummingbird was hiding under the fabric. What the hell was he doing to me? Was
I nervous or excited? Because the sensation was so similar to both, I honestly
couldn’t tell.
Extending a
hand, he smoothly said, “Name’s Hayden. Hayden Hayes.” I was just about to lift
my hand and touch him—my fingers even twitched in response—when he added, “And
what should I call you, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? With those two
simple syllables he had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head and
killed any fantasy I might have had about him. I lived, worked, and breathed in
a world where men looked at me like I was a second-class citizen. To prove my
worth, I had to work harder, longer, and with everything I had inside me, all
the fucking time. I felt like he’d just tried to take all of that hard work
away from me with that one demeaning word.
“Leaving,” I
said, walking away.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S. C. Stephens is a #1 bestselling author who spends her every free moment creating stories that are packed with emotion and heavy on romance. In addition to writing, she enjoys spending lazy afternoons in the sun reading, listening to music, watching movies, and spending time with her friends and family. She and her two children reside in the Pacific Northwest.
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