Friday, January 15, 2016

When the Best Friend Gets her Own Book

We’ve all seen her, heard her, and laughed with her. The sidekick, the best friend, the sassy sister. The woman who doesn’t look as skinny/pretty/pulled together/wholesome as the female lead in a rom-com. That is the woman I wanted to write.

Alice, the heroine in A Weekend of Misbehaving, is a feisty nanny who’s plus-size and she totally owns it. Her life is a mess in many ways, but she falls back on her personality and sense of humor to pick herself up. 

I’m sharing a teaser below. In this scene, she’s sipping on champagne as they fly to Capri, where she will play the role of Lorenzo’s fiancée of convenience. 

Alice took another sip, and then chuckled. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a hillbilly for enjoying every little thing you are obviously used to.”

“No.” His voice was a tad huskier than he would have wanted. Somehow her appreciation of his lifestyle was refreshing.

She put her glass on the tray and folded her arms, angling her body toward his. Didn’t this woman have any notion of personal space? She studied him like she was an art student and he was a damned Monet. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head. “Are you always like this?”

Oh no. Not the free therapy lesson, the one he’d seen her use on Cara many times. The one that made him so glad for having her in his life.

“You’ve known me for a year.”

“I’ve worked for you, that’s different. For instance, I don’t think we’ve ever been alone like this.” She shrugged.

He drummed his fingers on his armrest. Alone. Yes, there was a trunk in his chest, loaded with fake treasure and concealed weapons. And maybe a bomb or two.

She snagged her lower lip with her teeth, and he swallowed hard. A sharp tingle zipped down his stomach, intensifying when it reached lower.

“In our little make-believe world, what would a happy-go-lucky nanny like me be doing with an introverted one-percenter like you?”

“Must I remind you that you work for me?”

“Not during this trip. You’re paying me to be your sassy fiancée, the woman who should get a medal for breaking down your walls and showing you what life is all about.”

He snorted. “You must be really enjoying this.”

“I have to, at least a little bit, right?” She winked, then straightened her shoulders. “Seriously though, we fooled Viola for five minutes. I doubt she’ll believe we’re engaged if she hangs around us for a whole weekend.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she does.”

“How? You treat me like I’m an annoying neighbor. If knowing my eye color was part of a crucial standardized test, you’d fail big time.”

Fail. The word stabbed him, and he inhaled. It brought to mind the voice and sordid laughter of his late wife, which echoed in the depths of his brain even after three years. His spine locked into place, and he rotated in his seat and edged closer to Alice until the fabric of his pants rubbed against her jeans. Kristin never believed he would be this successful. If she were alive, wouldn’t she rejoice at the possibility of him losing everything he worked hard to achieve?

“To a passerby, your eyes are brown.” The mockery in her expression vanished, and so did her smile. Her shoulders sagged a little, and a current of air left her parted lips. He lifted his fingers and traced her jaw. “When you’re excited about something, they shift into a melted, dark gold.” Like now. He outlined her cheeks, and she almost jumped out of her seat, her soft skin leaning into his caress. With the tips of his fingers, he slid down her lips, luscious and sultry like a Botticelli painting.

His fingertips tingled, heat shooting up his arm. She closed her lips but didn’t move a single inch away from him. He held her stare until flecks of shimmer surrounded her dilated pupils. Then, outlining her lips, he held his breath as she closed her eyes. Did she expect him to kiss her? Nonsense.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and dipped his head lower, his breath brushing her earlobe. He leaned in a little farther, his lips about to touch her warm skin, and whispered, “Failing, tesoro mio, is not part of my vocabulary.”

And he used every bit of his self-control to pull away.


Want more? Read the first chapter free here.

Carmen Falcone writes sexy, edgy, emotional romance. She has two kids, three dogs, and one amazing, long-suffering European husband.  She’s addicted to chocolate, happy endings and Ryan Gosling. Her latest romance A WEEKEND OF MISBEHAVING is funny, sensual, and features a plus-size heroine who doesn’t hold back. For more info, please visit her website: or like her on Facebook:


Art dealer Lorenzo Baldi will lose everything if his anarchist father’s paintings are revealed to the art world. He’s determined to persuade the paintings’ eccentric owner to sell them to him. To do that, he’ll have to blackmail his daughter’s nanny—a woman with the sexy curves of a Botticelli masterpiece—into being his fake fiancé. The gorgeous island of Capri inspires some major misbehaving, but Lorenzo drops one more bomb that will change everything.
Author Bio:
Carmen Falcone learned at an early age that fantasizing about fictional characters beats doing math homework any day. Brazilian by birth and traveler by nature, she moved to Central Texas after college and met her broody Swiss husband—living proof that opposites attract. She found in writing her deepest passion and the best excuse to avoid the healthy lifestyle everyone keeps bragging about. When she’s not lost in the world of romance, she enjoys spending time with her two kids, being walked by her three crazy pugs, reading, catching up with friends, and chatting with random people in the checkout line.

She loves to procrastinate, so please indulge her and drop her a line at For more info, visit her website:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Sign up for the JCR newsletter!