Elley Arden is a born and bred Pennsylvanian who has lived as far west as Utah and as far north as Wisconsin. She drinks wine like it’s water (a slight exaggeration), prefers a night at the ballpark to a night on the town, and believes almond English toffee is the key to happiness.Website: elleyarden.com
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Excerpt:
From Running Interference: Cleveland Clash 1
“I was thinking, what about a celebrity boxing match?” Tanya asked.
“Uh, no.” Hell, he couldn’t even keep up with her in the ring.
“Back her into the corner!” some guy yelled.
What? Cam took his eyes off her for only a split second.
She popped him again and smiled. “Yeah, that’s probably a terrible idea. I mean who wants to pay to see you get your ass kicked?”
She danced around him, eyes blazing. Focus, man.
He managed a jab to her gut before she moved away.
“Thatta way!” the guy cheered.
She approached again. Cam swung. At the last minute, she spun, and his fist hung in midair. More dancing. Little hops. And a rush of laughter. He loved when she had fun. There was nothing more beautiful in the whole world.
She popped him again. Right in the flank.
The guy booed. Cam may have, too, because this didn’t seem fair.
“You know, it’s okay to hit a girl in here,” she said. “I don’t want you getting hung up on political correctness and looking like a fool in front of your … ” she glanced at the guy who was watching them, “fan. Singular.”
Smart ass. He lunged, and she dodged.
“Come on,” she said. “Show me what you’ve got, superstar.”
Oh, he’d show her all right. Just not in here. Later, they were going to finish what they started. He would find someplace where they wouldn’t be interrupted by roommates or family members, someplace where they could …
She bounced to the left and clobbered him. His brain rattled.
The guy gave a disgusted sound, and then walked away.
His one fan had bailed.
Time to stop the insanity. “Okay!” His louder than normal voice halted Tanya in her tracks, but a second later, she was bouncing again.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Just me announcing that the match can finally begin. I think you’re good and warmed up.” He grinned. “In fact,” he bobbed his brows, “you’re looking super-hot to me.”
Her feet slowed, and her eyes narrowed. “How ‘bout from now on you keep your thoughts to yourself? This is a boxing ring, not group therapy.”
Yep, he’d unnerved her, and he was just getting started.
“I’m being courteous,” he said, shuffling closer and lowering his voice. “I like to let my opponents get a feel for my size before we really get down and dirty.” He bit into his cheek to keep from laughing.
“You wish,” she said, but she was smiling too.
He advanced. She backpedaled, and then she hit the rope.
“Trapped,” he mouthed.
“Never,” she whispered.
Giveaway: