Excerpt Wanted Wed Or Alive by Willow Aster

Apr 052021
 

Wanted Wed Or Alive (The G.D. Taylors Series #1) by Willow Aster & Laura Pavlov

From best selling authors Willow Aster and Laura Pavlov comes the first book in a new rom-com series.

A runaway groom. A cautious neighbor. Too many sexually fueled run-ins to speak of.

Mya…
I came to New York for a fresh start.
A new job. A new apartment. A new life.
The last thing I’m looking for is a man.
Been there.
Done that.

Jesse…
I flee for my life when I leave Chicago.
Escaping a lifetime of misery.
But from the moment my eyes land on Mya Whitfield—I’m done for.
And don’t even get me started on watching her play the cello.
I’ve never envied anything the way I envy that enormous piece of wood between her legs.
Move over, cello…
There’s a new man in town.

**This is book 1 in the G.D. Taylors series. Each one features a different sibling and can be read as a complete standalone. A HEA is guaranteed!**

The G.D. Taylors Series:
Wanted Wed or Alive
The Bold and the Bullheaded
Another Motherfaker
Don’t Cry over Spilled MILF
Friends with Benefactors

Excerpt Wanted Wed Or Alive by Willow Aster

I’d been enjoying a night in, a beer, and as corny as it sounds, feeling buzzed by life, enjoying how different mine has become in such a short amount of time.
But the Great Flood of Noah unleashed itself on my head and I’m standing outside apartment 804. Good Christ. Could this person move any slower? I pound my fists against the door again.
The door flies open, and a nervous-looking Mya stands on the other side, taking my breath away.
I came up here to raise hell. Not to find the hot girl from the elevator wrapped up in a soft white robe.
Is this a sign from God?
If so, amen. Count me in.
“Can I help you?” Her light brown eyes are wide and questioning.
“Oh. Yeah. Mya, hey. Are you naked under that robe?” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Fuck.
“Excuse me?” She starts to push the door closed as if I am some kind of pervert. I did just ask if she was naked, and I actually wouldn’t mind an answer—so I guess I had it coming.
“Wait, no. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I meant to ask if you were running the shower by any chance.”
“And that’s your business because—?”
The door is barely cracked, prepared to slam in my face.
“I believe I’m in the condo beneath yours, and water just came pouring through my kitchen ceiling.” I motion to my head, which is currently soaked. “I was hoping you could shut off the water.”
She stares before startling as if she suddenly realizes what I’m talking about. “Oh. Ohhhhh. I’m running a bath.” She pulls the door open and sprints to the bathroom.
I do not step inside. I’m not a creeper regardless of how I just acted, unable to say a straight sentence without vomiting sexual innuendos. I just channeled my great-aunt Viola’s favorite character, Mrs. Roper, from Three’s Company, only worse! I hated watching that show when I visited as a kid because it was so confusing. It was funny as shit when I got older and came across an episode. Eye-opening.

There is nothing comical about a twenty-five-year-old man who wears his dick on his sleeve.

*excerpt posted with the author’s permission

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