The Wedding from Hell
Part 1: The Rehearsal Dinner
Part 1: The Rehearsal Dinner
by J. R. Ward
Available: July
17, 2018
Gallery Books |
E-book Original
Don’t miss #1 New York Times bestselling
author J.R. Ward’s three-part ebook serialization: The Wedding From
Hell. This exclusive prequel to her upcoming standalone suspense Consumed (available
in Fall 2018) takes us back to where it all started between arson
investigator Anne Ashburn and ‘bad boy’ firefighter Danny Maguire. The
Wedding From Hell is a sexy standalone novella that sets up Consumed’s
storyline, leaving fans hungry for more and dying to snatch it up.
About the Book:
It’s a classic recipe for
disaster: Take one bridesmaid who thinks pink is the root of all evil, mix with
a best man who’s hotter than a four-alarm fire, add in their explosive sexual
attraction, a nightmare bridezilla, two cat fights, and an emergency call, and
you have the wedding from hell.
Experience the sizzling start of Anne and Danny’s intense relationship. Is this the start of something good...or just an erotic one-night stand that rocks their world, but must never be repeated?
Experience the sizzling start of Anne and Danny’s intense relationship. Is this the start of something good...or just an erotic one-night stand that rocks their world, but must never be repeated?
About the Author:
J.R. Ward is the author of
more than thirty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling
Black Dagger Brotherhood series. There are more than fifteen million copies of
her novels in print worldwide, and they have been published in twenty-six
different countries around the world. She lives in the South with her family.
Thursday, October 29
T minus 48 hours ’til
blastoff
College Row, New Brunswick,
Massachusetts
Because women
are not frickin’ groomsmen! That’s why she can’t be in the goddamn
wedding!”
As Anne
Ashburn walked in the back door of the shotgun apartment, that happy little
explosion was not only what she’d expected all along, it also offered her the
out she’d been praying for. And it was probably the one and only time she was
ever going to agree with the bride.
Not about the
role of females in bridal parties, but that Anne wasn’t going to be in the
“goddamn wedding.”
Everyone
standing in the kitchen turned and looked at her: Deandra Cox, the impending
wearer of the white dress; Robert “Moose” Miller, her exhausted fiancé and
Anne’s fellow crew member down at the 499 fi rehouse; and . . . Dannyboy
Maguire.
Who was the
only one she really noticed and, for that reason, the person she refused to
look at.
Too bad Danny
always made an impression. Like most firefighters, he was in great physical
shape, his big body thickly muscled and ready to snap into motion in an
instant. With his heavy arms linked over that chest and his long legs crossed
at the boots, he was leaning back against the chipped countertop, his too-blue
stare missing nothing. He was fresh from a shower, his glossy black hair wet,
and Anne tried not to picture him naked under the spray, his tattooed torso
arching as he rinsed the shampoo out of his—
She put her
hands up to stop herself as much as the argument. “Look, I don’t want to cause
any problems. I’m happy to step aside—”
“And now I have one too many bridesmaids.” The bride-to-be
refocused on her intended. “My count is wrong. You wait until two days before
the wedding to tell me this when you know I’m not going to like it, and now my
count is off!”
As the groom focused on the linoleum floor, it was
impossible not to picture a wax version of the couple on a multi-tiered cake:
Deandra in skinny jeans and that tight cashmere sweater, her dark hair streaked
blond, her body cocked forward like she was going to throat-punch the man she
was going to marry; Moose in his New Brunswick Fire Department T-shirt, all broad-shouldered
and bearded around the face, easing back like someone with the flu was about to
sneeze in his face.
Ah, true love.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Moose muttered.
“Anne’s a member of the four-nine-nine crew, and everyone else is with me.”
“She’s a girl.” Deandra pointed at Anne. “It
throws off everything.”
“I really don’t want to cause any problems.” Anne put
her hands up again. “So I’ll just be in the congregation. It’s perfectly fine—”
Deandra’s glare swung Anne’s way. “The count is still
wrong. And my friends have already paid for their dresses. They were a hundred
and twenty dollars apiece.”
And that’s my cue to go, Anne thought. Moose
may have volunteered for this, but no one else had or needed to—
“I think women can be whatever they want.”
As Danny spoke up, everyone looked at him—including Anne,
who suddenly felt shades of what Deandra was throwing out.
Don’t you dare, she mouthed at him behind the
bride’s back.
Danny just shrugged like he’d thrown on a pantsuit
and was channeling Oprah, Michelle Obama, and Hillary Clinton all at once. “I
mean, Deandra, you’re above all that sexism, aren’t you? No one’s going to tell
you what’s right and wrong for your own wedding. You’re more secure than that.”
I am going to kill you, Anne vowed. “I
think Deandra wants things done properly for her only wedding.”
Danny frowned in pseudo-confusion. “So you’re saying
it’s okay to have a double standard for men and women? That’s a shocker given
how you are at the station. I thought you believed in equality.”
“I do,” Anne snapped. “But this isn’t about
equality.”
“You sure? I don’t know how you can support
traditional gender roles when it comes to a wedding ceremony at the same time
you defend the right for women to be firefighters, cops, and on the front lines
in the military.”
“Spare me someone who’s never been in a dress having
an opinion about women’s issues, okay?”
“I’m just pointing out that you don’t want women out
of dresses.”
“It’s her wedding.” Anne jabbed a finger at
Deandra. “She’s the bride. She gets to say what’s right and wrong for
her, and she does not need some man telling her what to do.”
“Even if I’m defending the rights of women?”
“Until you
grow a set of ovaries, you can shut the hell up about our rights!”
As Anne’s
voice ricocheted around the kitchen, she realized that she’d marched right up
to Danny—and that Deandra and Moose were watching the two of them in total
stillness.
She cleared her throat and took a step back. “Anyway,
Deandra’s made up her mind. And I support her decision.”
Deandra’s
eyes narrowed on Danny, and something about the way the woman looked at him
didn’t seem right.
“Actually,” the
bride said, “maybe she should be in the wedding party.”
Anne prayed
her expression stayed neutral. “Don’t compromise your vision on my account.”
“I won’t.”
The woman stared at Danny. “Fine. Let’s put her in a tuxedo like the rest of
the men. She can walk my sister down the aisle, just like a man should. Her
shoulders are too big for a gown, anyway, and that way my count stays the way
it should.”
Anne rolled
her eyes. Let’s hear it for girl power.
“So it’s
settled,” Deandra said with a tight smile. “You need a tux. Unless you already
own one.”
For a moment,
Anne waited for somebody to argue with the woman. Like Moose. But he was
clearly done falling on swords over the wedding details, and Danny had just
gotten what he wanted so he wasn’t going to say a damn thing.
And the truth
was, after how many years of fighting fires with these men, they were her
brothers in all but blood. Even though she thought Moose had lost his
ever-loving mind marrying this beautiful but sour woman after knowing her for a
matter of months, Anne was still going to stand up for the guy if he wanted her
to—and he did. He’d asked her down at the stationhouse specifically.
“Where did
you guys rent your suits?” Anne said to him.
“Tuxedoes,”
Deandra corrected.
The groom
blinked like he’d forgotten how to speak English. Then again, he’d been doing
that a lot at the firehouse lately. “You’re actually going to wear one?”
“What the
hell do I care?”
“Yes, she is
wearing one,” Deandra cut in.
Danny spoke
up. “I’ll go with you. I know where the place is.”
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