We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the
Cover Reveal and Prologue for
BUILT by Jay Crownover!
Cover Reveal and Prologue for
BUILT by Jay Crownover!
BUILT is the first novel in her upcoming
Saints of Denver Series,
BUILT is releasing on January 5, 2016! This is a definite one click, friends!
Check out the cover of BUILT!
Preorder BUILT Today!
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About BUILT:
From the New York
Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked
Men books comes an electrifying new spin-off series, Saints of Denver,
featuring all the characters fans have been dying to read about.
Sayer Cole and Zeb Fuller
couldn’t be more different. She’s country club and fine-dining, he’s cell-block
and sawdust. Sayer spends her days in litigation, while Zeb spends his working
with his hands. She’s French silk, he’s all denim and flannel.
Zeb’s wanted the stunning
blonde since the moment he laid eyes on her. It doesn't matter how many smooth
moves he makes, the reserved lawyer seems determinedly oblivious to his
interest—either that or she doesn't return it. Sayer is certain the rough,
hard, hot-as-hell Zeb could never want someone as closed off and restrained as
she is, which is a shame because something tells her he might be the guy to
finally melt her icy exterior.
But just as things start to
heat up, Zeb is blindsided by a life altering moment from his past. He needs
Sayer’s professional help to right a wrong and to save more than himself. He
can’t risk what’s at stake just because his attraction to Sayer feels all
consuming. But as these opposites dig in for the fight of their lives, battling
together to save a family, the steam created when fire and ice collide can no
longer be ignored.
And don’t miss this sneak peek of BUILT! Check out the prologue here!
Prologue
I met her at a bar.
She had a beer bottle in her hand even though she looked
like she should be sipping champagne out of an expensive flute, and that
inexplicably turned me on. She was pretty and looked completely out of place in
the no-name bar sitting across from one of my longtime friends who also
happened to be her long-lost brother. He was the reason she was here. In that
split second that I laid my eyes on her I wanted to be the reason she stayed.
I knew it was rude and that the two of them needed some time
together, some time to figure out what they were to each other now that she had
blasted into his life unannounced. If I was a better friend I would have left
them alone. As it was, I made my way over to the tiny table and sat down. I was
covered in sawdust and had drywall mud caked in the hair on my head and on my
face, but she didn’t flinch or bat an eyelash when I purposely broke up their
party of two and placed myself as close to her as I could without actually
touching her.
My buddy Rowdy St. James lifted his eyebrows at me as I
stared at her while he introduced us. Sayer Cole. Even her name was elegant and
sophisticated sounding. She was an enigma, this pretty woman that seemed like
she should be in any place but this bar with the two of us. She’d showed up out
of the blue a couple of months ago claiming to be Rowdy’s half sister, claiming
that they shared a father, claiming that all she wanted was to be in his life
and have some kind of family of her own. She looked too delicate to be that
brave. Came across as way too proper to have said “fuck it all” and picked up
her life to move it someplace unknown without being sure of her welcome. She
looked like silk, but if my guess was right about her, it was silk wrapped
around steel.
Luckily Rowdy was a good guy. After the shock of discovering
he wasn’t alone in the world, and once he realized he had someone tied to him
by blood forever and ever, he had warmed up to the idea of having a sister and
appreciated that the sister was Sayer.
I liked Rowdy a lot. He was a stand-up guy and a good
friend, but I had a feeling I was going to like his newly found big sister even
more. In my usual tactless way I asked him without looking directly at the
knockout blonde, “So you have a sister? A hot, classy sister?” A sister that
was also a lawyer, so beautiful and smart.
I expected a giggle from her or an eye roll at the
outlandish compliment, but what I got was a wide-eyed stare of disbelief as
eyes bluer than anything I had ever seen on earth danced between me and her
brother like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself or with my overt interest
in her.
I thought that I had gone too far, pushed the beautiful
stranger too far out of her comfort zone. I was a big guy and knew I looked far
wilder and rougher than I actually was. I figured it might be too much for a
woman already obviously out of her element and depth to take.
Instead, Sayer surprised me and I could see by the way he
stiffened that she surprised Rowdy, too. While she wasn’t exactly overflowing
with welcome and warmth, she did ask me about the current project I was working
on after Rowdy explained I was a general contractor and had rebuilt the new
tattoo shop he worked in. She seemed genuinely interested, and when I told her
that my specialty was rehabbing old houses and giving them new life, her eyes
practically glowed at me. I wanted to touch her to see if she felt as smooth
and polished as she looked. I wanted to leave streaks of dirt on her perfect face
to mark the fact that I had touched her, that she had let me touch her. It was
a primal and visceral reaction that I couldn’t explain and I liked the way it
felt. Liked the weight and heft of it in my blood even if I knew the feeling
wasn’t likely to be returned.
She told me all about a fantastic but crumbling Victorian
she had purchased that was falling down around her. She asked me for a business
card and I saw Rowdy stiffen across the table. I sighed and rubbed a hand over
my already messy hair. I watched her eyes follow the light cloud of dust that
escaped the strands. I was great at my job, loved what I did, but I couldn’t do
anything with her or for her without laying everything on the line. Especially
not with Rowdy giving me the death glare from just a few feet away.
I dug the card out of my wallet, and when I handed it over
our fingers touched. I saw her eyes widen and her lips part, just barely. She
looked a little dazed when I grinned at her.
“You take that card, but understand that the man giving it
to you has a past.”
She blinked at me and cleared her throat. “What kind of
past?”
It wasn’t something I liked to tell a beautiful woman when I
first met her. It was something I liked to work up to, liked to prove it was
behind me, but with this one it seemed like I wouldn’t get that chance.
“I tell everyone that I do any kind of work for or that
considers hiring me on for a project that I have a criminal history. I spent
time locked up for a few years, and while I’m not proud of it I can’t deny it
happened. I was a hotheaded kid and it got me in trouble, but I’m the best at
what I do, so I hope that doesn’t discourage you from giving me a call.”
Hopefully for more than some construction.
Usually I got a concerned frown followed by a hundred
questions about what had led me to serving time. I got none of that from the
stunning blonde. She tilted her head to the side and considered me silently for
a long moment before reaching down and slipping my card in her purse. If
anything, I could have sworn she was wearing a look of sympathy when she told
me softly, “I see it every day from the inside. Sometimes the system simply
gets it wrong.” A slight grin turned her mouth up at the corners, and I wanted
to lean over and kiss it. “People make mistakes. Hopefully they learn from
them.”
I don’t know that “wrong” was accurate in my case so much as
misguided, but the complete lack of judgment or censure coming from her made me
want to pull her into my arms and hold on to her even more. I had made a
mistake, a huge one, one that I was forever going to have to carry around with
me, but I had learned from it, was still learning from it. That kind of
understanding from a total stranger was so rare, especially coming from someone
in the legal field. I wasn’t accustomed to someone looking at me and seeing me,
just me, not an ex-con loser after I explained where I had been. It was wildly
refreshing and attractive. I couldn’t quite get a handle on what made the woman
tick, but I would welcome any opportunity she gave me to figure it out. I found
her outwardly flawless and pristine demeanor tempting to taint with my dirty
hands and ways, and there was something about the way she watched me, the way
she turned toward me like she was drawn to me, that made me think maybe I
wasn’t alone in the inexplicable pull department.
Rowdy left and she stayed.
We had a couple more beers and talked some more about her
house and what she wanted done with it. She already hired one contractor but
felt like the guy was ripping her off. It happened a lot in the industry, so I
wouldn’t be surprised if the guy was taking her for a ride. Spending time with
her was easy. She was fun to talk to and really fun to look at. I really wanted
to get my hands on her house and of course on her, and I felt like she was
maybe, kind of, slightly leaning in the same direction when I made the mistake
of asking her about her past.
I asked about where she had been before she found out about
Rowdy and decided to move to Denver so that she could get to know him. I was
curious what kind of life she had where she could leave everything behind and
not be missed. Really I wanted to know if she had a boyfriend or husband
stashed somewhere, but the simple inquiry must have touched a nerve. The next
thing I knew she had paid out the tab for both of us and disappeared into the
night. She went from glowing and bright to frigid and untouchable in the span
of a heartbeat.
I figured I blew my shot by being too blunt, as always. I
assumed she probably did have someone else in the picture and had been friendly
and polite only because I was good friends with her brother. I thought I would
never hear from her again and was baffled why the thought of that made my chest
ache and my heart feel like it weighed two tons.
Imagine my surprise when she called me and hired me to
renovate her house a week later without a bid, without a contract, without even
knowing if I was half as good as I claimed to be.
Of course I accepted, but I knew once I was inside I would
need to knock down and rearrange more than just the walls of the house, in
order to get at something beautiful and lasting.
About Jay Crownover: Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she'll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.
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