Eve Langlais can’t decide on the title for her next book, so she’s asked us to help her decide. Click on the poll link here to cast your vote. And then come back on 9/2 to see the winner!
Here’s the book’s blurb to help you decide:
What’s a bear to do when a human has a polar-izing effect?
When Vicky accidentally slides into the side of a polar bear, she doesn’t expect to fall in love. Eaten yes, perhaps used as a chew toy, but become the object of a bear’s affection and lust?
Crazy! Almost as crazy as the fact the polar bear turns out to be a man. A sexy man. A man who growls, and roars and does everything he can to chase her away.
Only to come back.
Poor Gene. After the pain and betrayal he suffered in the war all he wants is vengeance against the brothers who left him behind. But he’s confused when instead of wanting to punish him for his evil acts, they offer him forgiveness.
As if that weren’t annoying enough, the cutest geek he ever met—with caramel kissed skin covering a lush, rounded figure and wearing the sexiest dark rimmed glasses—won’t leave him alone. Or more like, he can’t seem to stop following her. And it isn’t just because someone is out to hurt her.
He wants her. But does he want her more than vengeance?
I have found myself in a quandary where three stories are bouncing around my head and my WIP writing time. So I thought I’d share the first four sentences of two of them and see which one you all feel more drawn to. Thank you in advance for any comments you would like to leave to help me focus!
Monica let her forehead hit her desk with a sigh. Then she banged her head a few times on the pressed wooden surface for good measure—just in case she hadn’t gotten it through her thick skull that starting her own matchmaking company six months ago had been a catastrophically bad idea.
Well, OK, maybe not catastrophic, but it sure wasn’t going well. And for a person who could see a guy’s aura light up like a Christmas tree when he met a potential mate, she sure would have thought things would have gone better.
“At least I had the decency to wait until after exams to die.”
It had been four weeks since Fiona Freer’s mother had said that to her in her trademark sardonic approach to everything difficult in life. Given that at the time she was wasting in a hospital bed, was on a respirator, and had a good amount of opiates on board, that she could pull off that tone was quite impressive. She’d made Fiona smile while on her deathbed.
Make sure you check out other authors’ snippets here: