It’s release day for Profited by Lacey Black!! To celebrate, Lacey has book one, Submerged on sale. Check out the fantastic excerpt Lacey is sharing and be sure to grab your copy today
About Profited:
One night. Let go. Be free. Even at an early age, Reid Hunter’s future was already planned out. Though he was groomed to become successor of the family business, he quickly discovered his destiny wasn’t through his family’s legacy, but to build his own empire. His plan: takeover Vegas, one building at a time. Known as a hard, no-nonsense man, inside the boardroom and out, Reid isn’t prepared when he comes face to face with a woman from his past. The only one with the ability to make him question everything he stands for. Raising a child is hard. Raising a child as a young, single mother is downright difficult. Yet Dani Whitley has managed to put herself through college, purchase her own home, and raise the unexpected, but greatly adored son she created while in college, after one night with a gorgeous stranger. Knowing nothing but his first name, Dani has managed to push all thought of Reid out of her mind until one day, nine years later, she is forced to face the man himself. Ruthless and callous, Reid Hunter is nothing like the young man she met at that music festival all those years ago. Yet Dani is still drawn to him, more than she was before. Sin. Money. Success. Profits. That’s the foundation of Las Vegas. But what happens when one day you realize that it’s not enough? When the greatest thing you could profit is bigger and better than money: love. Buy Links: Amazon US: https://amzn.com/B01FTBCPRA Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01FTBCPRA Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01FTBCPRA iBooks: https://itun.es/us/QGT4cb.l Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/profited Paperback: http://goo.gl/forms/59jCqvBLfg8lr0Rf1 *B&N on release day Exclusive Excerpt: “So, you’re a teacher?” my date asks while chewing a mouthful of sloppy Chicken Parmesan. “Yes,” I confirm for the second time tonight, all the while moving my baked halibut around on my plate in an effort to hide the fact that I haven’t eaten more than a few bites. Greg’s open trap of tumbling food is enough to turn my stomach and dissolve any appetite I had when I walked into this restaurant. “That’s pretty cool. I bet you’re a great teacher. I mean I would have loved to get you as my teacher back in the day. I never had a hot teacher,” he mumbles while chewing. Chew. Chew. Chew. I swallow the bile that’s threatening to make an appearance when his bushy eyebrows wiggle like some sort of caterpillar walking across his forehead. I hate my sister. It’s official. I have the worst sister in the world. I don’t know what I ever did to Trysta to make her hate me enough to subject me to this kind of torture. “Go on a blind date,” she said. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Greg’s so adorable; like a puppy,” yada yada yada. Apparently my sister is mean and blind. And don’t get me started on her lack of hearing, because if she really had to sit in the same room with this guy while he ate, there’s no way in hell she ever would have set me up with this clown. “So, what do you do at The Mirage?” Please let him say pit boss. Please! “I’m a custodial engineer,” he says while shoveling a heaping pile of steamed broccoli into his face. “Custodial engineer?” I ask more to myself than to him. I have a pretty good idea where this is going. “Yeah. I clean the restrooms, mop the floors, and pick up after the rich gamblers. But I’m not a maid,” he informs me sternly. “No, I don’t clean the rooms. I do more of the general grounds of the casinos. I’ve been there for six years now, and have worked my way up to the blackjack room. Someday, I hope to hit it big and get the High Roller Room. But, the guy that cleans that room now is really good and has been there for like twenty years. Your sister is one of everyone’s favorite cocktail waitresses in the High Roller Room. Nice girl; big boobs like yours.” “Wow, that’s…yeah.” “Have I told you that I have a teacher fantasy?” Greg asks, a few pieces of cheesy noodles flying from his pie hole. “Excuse me?” I ask, praying to God that this conversation isn’t about to turn in the direction I’m fearing. Greg leans forward enough so that his blue and green polka dotted tie featuring two animated dinosaurs on the front dips into his plate of cheese sauce. “Oh, yeah. Hot teacher asks me to return after class. When I walk in, she’s got her long ruler in her hand and uses it on my -” “That’s nice and all, but it’s getting late,” I say with a little more force than I intend. “Oh. But we’re still eating the main entrée. We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet,” he says with an insinuating smile while wagging those caterpillar-like eyebrows again. “Yeah, well, it’s getting late and I have class tomorrow,” I reply while depositing my cloth napkin down on the tabletop. Greg doesn’t realize that it’s Friday and I don’t actually have class tomorrow. If he asks, though, I’m pleading Saturday detention duty. Greg stands up when I do and walks around to my side of the table. A drop of the sauce is sitting on his chin like a big neon sign. Like a zit, my eyes are glued to that little dripping of food. In fact, I’m staring so long that it takes me a second to realize that the drop of goo is moving towards me. I snap out of my trance just in time to divert my lips away from Greg’s. He places a wet kiss that reminds me of a dog, on my cheek. “Are you sure you have to go home now? I thought maybe we could go back to my place tonight. My mom is out at Bridge Club so she won’t be home for at least another hour. Plenty of time to drive home and get disciplined by a hot teacher,” he says, baring his coffee stained teeth. And that’s the moment my stomach actually rolls and I fear I’m going to blow chow all over the front of his dull white shirt, elementary neck tie, and wrinkled khakis; all in front of Vegas’ middle class at a mom and pop Italian restaurant. “Oh,” I start with a laugh. “I don’t think so, Greg. It was really nice to meet you,” I lie while digging out a handful of bills from my pocketbook. I drop just enough to cover my portion of the bill and a tip. Let Mr. Can’t Chew With His Mouth Closed pay for his own meal. “It was really nice to meet you, Dena,” he says. “It’s Dani, actually,” I mumble while grabbing my wrap from the back of the chair and whipping it over the shoulders of my navy blue dress. “Dani? Are you sure? I could have sworn your sister said your name was Dena.” “Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s Dani,” I reply, voice dripping with sarcasm, before turning and walking away. I don’t stop. I keep walking straight out of the restaurant, even though Greg is still talking behind me. I don’t stop until I’m sliding into the driver’s seat of my 6-year-old Toyota Camry. My hands are still shaking as I slip the key into the ignition and start the car. I’m definitely ready to go home and drown in a bottle of wine and a bubble bath.
One night. Let go. Be free. Even at an early age, Reid Hunter’s future was already planned out. Though he was groomed to become successor of the family business, he quickly discovered his destiny wasn’t through his family’s legacy, but to build his own empire. His plan: takeover Vegas, one building at a time. Known as a hard, no-nonsense man, inside the boardroom and out, Reid isn’t prepared when he comes face to face with a woman from his past. The only one with the ability to make him question everything he stands for. Raising a child is hard. Raising a child as a young, single mother is downright difficult. Yet Dani Whitley has managed to put herself through college, purchase her own home, and raise the unexpected, but greatly adored son she created while in college, after one night with a gorgeous stranger. Knowing nothing but his first name, Dani has managed to push all thought of Reid out of her mind until one day, nine years later, she is forced to face the man himself. Ruthless and callous, Reid Hunter is nothing like the young man she met at that music festival all those years ago. Yet Dani is still drawn to him, more than she was before. Sin. Money. Success. Profits. That’s the foundation of Las Vegas. But what happens when one day you realize that it’s not enough? When the greatest thing you could profit is bigger and better than money: love. Buy Links: Amazon US: https://amzn.com/B01FTBCPRA Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01FTBCPRA Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01FTBCPRA iBooks: https://itun.es/us/QGT4cb.l Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/profited Paperback: http://goo.gl/forms/59jCqvBLfg8lr0Rf1 *B&N on release day Exclusive Excerpt: “So, you’re a teacher?” my date asks while chewing a mouthful of sloppy Chicken Parmesan. “Yes,” I confirm for the second time tonight, all the while moving my baked halibut around on my plate in an effort to hide the fact that I haven’t eaten more than a few bites. Greg’s open trap of tumbling food is enough to turn my stomach and dissolve any appetite I had when I walked into this restaurant. “That’s pretty cool. I bet you’re a great teacher. I mean I would have loved to get you as my teacher back in the day. I never had a hot teacher,” he mumbles while chewing. Chew. Chew. Chew. I swallow the bile that’s threatening to make an appearance when his bushy eyebrows wiggle like some sort of caterpillar walking across his forehead. I hate my sister. It’s official. I have the worst sister in the world. I don’t know what I ever did to Trysta to make her hate me enough to subject me to this kind of torture. “Go on a blind date,” she said. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Greg’s so adorable; like a puppy,” yada yada yada. Apparently my sister is mean and blind. And don’t get me started on her lack of hearing, because if she really had to sit in the same room with this guy while he ate, there’s no way in hell she ever would have set me up with this clown. “So, what do you do at The Mirage?” Please let him say pit boss. Please! “I’m a custodial engineer,” he says while shoveling a heaping pile of steamed broccoli into his face. “Custodial engineer?” I ask more to myself than to him. I have a pretty good idea where this is going. “Yeah. I clean the restrooms, mop the floors, and pick up after the rich gamblers. But I’m not a maid,” he informs me sternly. “No, I don’t clean the rooms. I do more of the general grounds of the casinos. I’ve been there for six years now, and have worked my way up to the blackjack room. Someday, I hope to hit it big and get the High Roller Room. But, the guy that cleans that room now is really good and has been there for like twenty years. Your sister is one of everyone’s favorite cocktail waitresses in the High Roller Room. Nice girl; big boobs like yours.” “Wow, that’s…yeah.” “Have I told you that I have a teacher fantasy?” Greg asks, a few pieces of cheesy noodles flying from his pie hole. “Excuse me?” I ask, praying to God that this conversation isn’t about to turn in the direction I’m fearing. Greg leans forward enough so that his blue and green polka dotted tie featuring two animated dinosaurs on the front dips into his plate of cheese sauce. “Oh, yeah. Hot teacher asks me to return after class. When I walk in, she’s got her long ruler in her hand and uses it on my -” “That’s nice and all, but it’s getting late,” I say with a little more force than I intend. “Oh. But we’re still eating the main entrée. We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet,” he says with an insinuating smile while wagging those caterpillar-like eyebrows again. “Yeah, well, it’s getting late and I have class tomorrow,” I reply while depositing my cloth napkin down on the tabletop. Greg doesn’t realize that it’s Friday and I don’t actually have class tomorrow. If he asks, though, I’m pleading Saturday detention duty. Greg stands up when I do and walks around to my side of the table. A drop of the sauce is sitting on his chin like a big neon sign. Like a zit, my eyes are glued to that little dripping of food. In fact, I’m staring so long that it takes me a second to realize that the drop of goo is moving towards me. I snap out of my trance just in time to divert my lips away from Greg’s. He places a wet kiss that reminds me of a dog, on my cheek. “Are you sure you have to go home now? I thought maybe we could go back to my place tonight. My mom is out at Bridge Club so she won’t be home for at least another hour. Plenty of time to drive home and get disciplined by a hot teacher,” he says, baring his coffee stained teeth. And that’s the moment my stomach actually rolls and I fear I’m going to blow chow all over the front of his dull white shirt, elementary neck tie, and wrinkled khakis; all in front of Vegas’ middle class at a mom and pop Italian restaurant. “Oh,” I start with a laugh. “I don’t think so, Greg. It was really nice to meet you,” I lie while digging out a handful of bills from my pocketbook. I drop just enough to cover my portion of the bill and a tip. Let Mr. Can’t Chew With His Mouth Closed pay for his own meal. “It was really nice to meet you, Dena,” he says. “It’s Dani, actually,” I mumble while grabbing my wrap from the back of the chair and whipping it over the shoulders of my navy blue dress. “Dani? Are you sure? I could have sworn your sister said your name was Dena.” “Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s Dani,” I reply, voice dripping with sarcasm, before turning and walking away. I don’t stop. I keep walking straight out of the restaurant, even though Greg is still talking behind me. I don’t stop until I’m sliding into the driver’s seat of my 6-year-old Toyota Camry. My hands are still shaking as I slip the key into the ignition and start the car. I’m definitely ready to go home and drown in a bottle of wine and a bubble bath.
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