Now, you know my mama’s a gambler (sweeper, whatever....), so I guess I got to blame her for a little of this.
When the band got invited to do a big gig here in Las Vegas, I was so excited. Really excited. And when we got here, I was dazzled.
A little too dazzled. I blame the lights and the money and does Vegas pump a scent through the entire town that makes you think you’re a winner, or what?
Because I gambled all our money away. And by “our,” I mean the band’s money. All of it. Every dang cent.
Only no one knows. They’d kill me. So I have to find a way to make all that money back.
I have an idea. I got a good body and a smart mind.
I can do this. I can fix this.
It’s just gonna get a little weird for a while.
Random on Tour: Las Vegas is the 9th book in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling Random series. When the band performs in Vegas, anything goes – including Darla’s dignity and all of the band’s savings. When a savior appears, though, there’s a trade-off for being rescued. A big one. How far is Darla willing to go?
Oh, please. It’s Darla. Like you have to even wonder...
This book is told from the point of view of Darla, Trevor and Joe.
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“Did you hear about the woman who died by suffocating on a guy’s penis?” I asked, all out of the blue. That’s how my brain worked sometimes, and hell if I understood it. Given any set of crises, I could compartmentalize and let at least one loose strand of gray matter float off in the wind, brought back by a breeze with a strange little factoid tucked away in the outback, coming forward to be uttered out of my no-filter mouth.
Plus, I needed time for the brain’s back burner to figure out how to give them an answer that fully conveyed my apologies and regret for being so stupid. Given that, why not distract them with a huge-dick story?
Trevor and Joe groaned in unison. They knew how I worked.
“He was from Peters, Ohio, wasn’t he?” Joe asked.
“I’ll get beer. We’re going to need it if this is one of her stories,” Trevor said, standing up and shaking his head as he and Joe exchanged a look I didn’t understand.
“No, not from Peters,” I said. “Trust me, if a guy back home had a cock that big, I’d know about it. Or have been dead long before I met you.”
They both froze, then slowly turned to look at me.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down
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