Brand New Release! THREE BROTHERS!

My latest novel, THREE BROTHERS, just released today! This is a contemporary romance that is a standalone. Sorry, no cliffhangers. ;)

This is a story about righting wrongs, seconds chances, and letting go of the past in order to step confidently into the future. It's a love story: my favorite kind of love story.

If you're looking for the links to purchase, I've listed them below.

Happy reading!


Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Three-Brothers-Nicole-Williams-ebook/dp/B00SGTMSZ2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421770644&sr=8-1&keywords=three+brothers+nicole+williams

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/three-brothers-nicole-williams/1121090903?ean=2940150296145

Apple:https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/three-brothers/id959801745?ls=1&mt=11

Kobo: Coming very soon!

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I grew up with three brothers. They weren’t tied to me by blood, but our connection went beyond genetics or bearing the same last name. Our connection was forged the summer I turned thirteen, the summer my mom ended her life and left me in the custody of John Armstrong, a man I’d never met. Packing all I owned in a couple of boxes, I left the familiarity of the big city and headed west to Red Mountain Ranch, set in a lonely valley outside of Jackson Hole. 

Nothing was as it seemed at Red Mountain—it didn’t take long for me to figure that out. John was kind to me but distant, as if he was afraid to let anyone get too close. His three teenage sons had their own devices for keeping love as far away as they could. The eldest distracted himself with cheap relationships that had a shelf-life of one night. The middle son threw himself into the rigor of running a ranch, and the third wielded cruelty and mind-games in his quest to keep people from getting close. 

Time has gone by, and I’ve spent those years trying to forget the brother I’d fallen for—the biggest mistake of my life. 

Finally, I’ve moved on. Finally, I’m back. But what I didn’t realize was that running away from the wrong brother meant I’d also run away from the right one. The one who’d been there for me all along, waiting in his brother’s shadow for the day I either would or could move on. 

But a decade is a long time to wait. Has the brother I should have chosen all of those years ago moved on too? Am I about to discover that my biggest mistake wasn’t falling in love with the wrong brother, but failing to return the love of the right one sooner? 

Does unrequited love have an expiration date? 

I’m about to find out.

THREE BROTHERS Excerpt (Releasing January 20th!)

Happy 2015 everyone! Wishing you all a fulfilling, successful year filled with lots of fun and adventure! Thank you for being part of 2014 being so fabulous—looking forward to many more to come.

In case you haven't seen the Facebook or Twitter buzz about what's coming from me next, I wanted to update you all here. THREE BROTHERS is releasing January 20th and is a contemporary romance set in rural Wyoming. It tells the story of a woman who's so haunted by her past, she's struggling to get on with her future. It's a love story about choosing the people who deserve our love and the ones who return that love, instead of chasing after the ones who are so damaged they've forgotten what love is. It's a novel I feel fans of the LOST & FOUND series will enjoy (I'll also have some especially exciting news for all of you LOST & FOUND fans coming tomorrow!)

I wanted to share the cover, blurb, and the first excerpt with you all, so here it is! I hope you enjoy and, as always, thank you for being so wonderful and supportive.

XOXO,

Nicole

P.S. If you're a book blogger and would like to sign-up for the tour, here's the link to do so!
http://us4.campaign-archive1.com/?u=6f7e6c35359236674e511ee50&id=c4d39de891

************************************BLURB**************************************

I grew up with three brothers. They weren’t tied to me by blood, but our connection went beyond genetics or bearing the same last name. Our connection was forged the summer I turned thirteen, the summer my mom ended her life and left me in the custody of John Armstrong, a man I’d never met. Packing all I owned in a couple of boxes, I left the familiarity of the big city and headed west to Red Mountain Ranch, set in a lonely valley outside of Jackson Hole. 

Nothing was as it seemed at Red Mountain—it didn’t take long for me to figure that out. John was kind to me but distant, as if he was afraid to let anyone get too close. His three teenage sons had their own devices for keeping love as far away as they could. The eldest distracted himself with cheap relationships that had a shelf-life of one night. The middle son threw himself into the rigor of running a ranch, and the third wielded cruelty and mind-games in his quest to keep people from getting close. 

Time has gone by, and I’ve spent those years trying to forget the brother I’d fallen for—the biggest mistake of my life. 

Finally, I’ve moved on. Finally, I’m back. But what I didn’t realize was that running away from the wrong brother meant I’d also run away from the right one. The one who’d been there for me all along, waiting in his brother’s shadow for the day I either would or could move on.

But a decade is a long time to wait. Has the brother I should have chosen all of those years ago moved on too? Am I about to discover that my biggest mistake wasn’t falling in love with the wrong brother, but failing to return the love of the right one sooner?

Does unrequited love have an expiration date? 

I’m about to find out.

*****************************************************Excerpt**********************************************************

I stood there, sucking in deep breaths until I felt something that resembled calm. And that was when I noticed a faint red glow coming from one end of the porch. That I hadn’t smelled the familiar scent that came with it was an indication of just how not myself I’d been when I fled out that door.
            “You might want to keep running. Things are only going to get worse in there. There’s no happy ending waiting for anyone on the other side of that door.” His voice blew past the walls I’d been so sure had been impenetrable and threaded through me as it always used to. Instead of feeling like the twenty-five-year-old woman I was, I became that impressionable girl who had worshipped the ground beneath a boy who had no right to be worshipped.
            I closed my eyes and bolstered my strength. “You were always the one who was better at running, Conn. That’s more your style than mine.” Instead of down the stairs or back inside, I went toward him. I wanted him to see that he didn’t have power over me any longer. At least, I wanted him to see the façade of him not holding power over me.
            “Yet how long were you frozen on that first step when you arrived? I kind of lost count at five minutes.” His voice was just as smoky and smooth as I remembered it, and age had deepened it a key or two. The porch lights were out. With just the light coming from the buildings and barns dotted around and the orangey glow of his cigarette, I could barely make out Conn’s face. Not that I needed light to remember it. I’d memorized the perfections and imperfections of it years ago, and despite my efforts to forget, it had revisited my dreams too frequently.
            Where Chase had been big, blond, and beefy, Conn was the opposite. He was taller than me but only by a couple of inches, and his hair was the same dark chestnut John’s had been before the silver took over. Conn’s body could have been described as lanky and lean, and his dark long-sleeved shirts and pants gave off just the right degree of sinister meets tortured. That, matched with his brooding expression, had alerted me from the beginning that he was the kind of boy I should keep my distance from. The kind who had let so much darkness into his life that it suffocated all of the light
            “You were here the whole time? Camped out in your chair, smoking your cigarettes, watching me, and you didn’t say anything?” I stopped when I was still a good ten feet back from him. Distance was a good thing when it came to Conn, both mental and physical. “I should probably be surprised, but I’m not.”
            Conn’s jagged smile crept into place. “So? Are you keeping your fingers crossed for a repeat of your sixteenth birthday?”
            I didn’t have to see the image flash through his eyes to know exactly what he was talking about. “Nothing happened.” I crossed my arms and stood taller, trying to convince myself at the same time.
            “And is that why you disappeared for seven years?” The cigarette dangled from Conn’s lips. The bottle in his hand was already a third empty, and even though I could barely see them, his eyes were both calling me closer and shoving me away. Everything about him flashed danger. Everything screamed stay away.
            I’d never read the signs when it came to Conn. This time, I’d promised myself I would. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t come back here if I wasn’t sure I could keep him at an emotional and physical distance.
            “I came back because John, aka your father, is dying. I came to say good-bye.” I leaned into the railing along the porch, keeping a safe distance without making it seem as though I was concerned about how close or how far I was from Conn. “Unlike you, I’m not trying to discover what gives out first: my lungs or my liver.”
            “I’m hoping they go at the same time.” Conn plucked the cigarette from his lips long enough to take a pull from the bottle.
            Unlike his father, who was adamant that scotch was the only thing to drink when a person needed one, Conn chose tequila. It wasn’t a simple matter of a difference in taste. No, whatever John liked, Conn preferred the opposite. What was sad though was that in Conn’s effort to defy John at every turn, he was only proving just how significant a role his father played in his life. He was just as in tune with his dad as if he’d been mimicking him at every turn.
            “Why aren’t you at dinner?” I asked, reminding myself to keep our conversation short. Conn was a master at wordplay and could lure even the greatest of cynics to his side.
            “Because I don’t want to go.” He held out the bottle. When I shook my head, he let the bottle hang between us for a few moments before taking another long drink. At this rate, Conn would be shit-faced before that cigarette burned out.
            “That seems to be your go-to answer to every question.”
            “That’s because that’s my go-to feeling for most everything, family most of all.” Conn looked off into the distance where Red Mountain rested. Unlike the rest of us, who dodged looking at it or venturing up it, Conn seemed to view it as a refuge.
            “Still haven’t gotten over your daddy issues?” I closed my eyes, instantly regretting my words.
             I was just about to apologize when Conn leaned forward in his chair. All I could see were the whites of his eyes, but that was all I needed to see to know he was staring straight at me. When I’d been younger and under the impression that Conn could do no wrong, I’d measured my life in the moments when Conn had looked at me and me alone. There were only two ways he looked at me: straight through or straight on. Now I would have preferred he look straight through me because his eyes pulled things out of the place I’d buried deep inside myself.
            “I don’t know. Have you gotten over your Conn issues?” 
 

The Next Installment in The Outsider Chronicles is . . . DAMAGED GOODS

So HARD KNOX just came out. A few days ago.  The first book released in The Outsider Chronicles. BUT the first book I wrote of the series was DAMAGED GOODS, a book I wrote last summer and was just waiting for the right moment to publish. As it turns out, September 9th is the right moment!

If you've read HARD KNOX, you'll find DAMAGED GOODS a bit grittier, a sliver darker, and a degree (or two or three) steamier. Now, enough with the fine print, here's the good stuff . . .



The cover. Done by the brilliant Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations.

And here's the blurb!

When Liv Bennett said goodbye to the sinkhole of a town she grew up in, she hoped she’d left that chapter of her life behind forever. But forever turned out to only be three years.

Returning home to her two younger sisters after their addict of a mother up and disappeared, Liv promptly reinstitutes her golden rule that got her through her first nineteen years of life without getting knocked up, roughed up, or messed up: Don’t date the local boys and god forbid, don’t fall in love with one of them.

It isn’t long before that golden rule is put to the test.

Will Goods isn’t the same boy she remembers growing up by in the next trailer over. The wild, careless boy who used to tear up the town with his three brothers has morphed into someone else so completely, he’s almost unrecognizable. The quiet, contemplative man who works on cars by night and takes care of his mentally ill mother during the day is nothing like any of the local boys Liv grew up avoiding.

But just when Liv considers suspending her golden rule this one time, she finds out something about Will that will change everything.

Will Goods isn’t who he used to be; he’s not even the man Liv thinks she’s gotten to know over the summer. He’s someone else entirely.

He’s become . . .

Damaged Goods.

I will be working on making this available for pre-order and will post those links once they're available. Hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much for making HARD KNOX's release week so spectacular!

HARD KNOX is Live!

HARD KNOX is officially live! I've listed the purchase links below, along with the link where you can enter the release week giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card and a signed paperback copy of HARD KNOX!

For all of you CRASH fans, HARD KNOX is for you! Lots of drama and angst and one epic love story. I hope you all enjoy!


Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MN0TTI4

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hard-knox-nicole-williams/1120116551?ean=2940150334458

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/hard-knox-1

I'll share the Apple link as soon as it's live! 

Giveaway link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Nicole-Williams/215156715173890?sk=app_228910107186452

Second and Final HARD KNOX Excerpt Before Its Release!

We are one week away from the release of HARD KNOX and I wanted to leave you all with one last excerpt before you can have the entire book in your hands. Make sure to check my author Facebook and Twitter pages on the 12th for fun release day events and giveaways!



HARD KNOX EXCERPT:

Knox smiled. Actually, Knox smiled at me. “You’re sure?” He was already moving toward the remaining boxes.

            “See this? It’s my sure face.” Circling my finger around my face, I frowned.

            “Well, good. Because you being unsure about moving in wouldn’t have changed anything, but it eases my conscience knowing you’re okay with it.” The wink he flashed me didn’t keep me from grabbing the can of Silly String Harlow kept on her desk. Up until now, I hadn’t been able to comprehend what kind of situation could ever arise that would require Silly String, but this one kind of did.

            Ripping the cap off, I aimed it in his direction. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

            Knox lifted an unimpressed brow when he saw the can. “Right back at ya, sweetheart.”

            My finger moved to the depressor. “Being forced to move in with you is one thing. Being chained to you all night and morning when you knew how to free us is another. But calling me sweetheart?” With a shake of the can, I aimed it at his head. “Yeah, not even close to okay.” I pressed the button, and a line of bright purple string burst from the can, splatting on his forehead.

            For a moment, Knox didn’t seem to realize his face was being assaulted by a purple string of foam, but as soon as that cleared, a challenging smirk went into place right before he charged me. I didn’t stop spraying, covering even more of his face, but it didn’t slow him any.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m Knox Jagger. If brass knuckles and steel-toed boots can’t keep me down, the girl spraying a can of Silly String at me’s in trouble.”

            “Yeah, but haven’t you heard?” When his hand wrapped around my wrist, I pulled away, but his grip was about as breakable as when I’d tried to bust through the handcuffs. “I’m Charlie Chase. The girl who name calling and general loathing can’t shut up, so too bad for the guy trying to intimidate me with words.”

Right before he yanked the can out of my hand, I got in one last squirt. It gushed right into his eyes, immediately followed by a huff and, “You’re going to regret that.”

            The harder I tried to stay serious, the more I felt the laughter ready to rip through me. When his fingers gripped my side and squeezed, I let lose.

            “Stop it, Knox!” I shouted between spurts of laughter. “Not fair! The rules of Silly String war clearly state tickling is off limits!”

            All that did was make him squeeze my sides harder, and now having possession of the Silly String can, he paired the tickling up with spraying Silly String into my hair.

            “I’m going to kill you!” I squealed, trying to wrench out of his grasp. To no avail.

            “Nah, you won’t. You like me too much.” Now he was laughing—probably because the Silly String was so thick on top of my head it was spilling over onto my forehead. “Your world would be colorless and void without me in it.”

            “Yeah, sell your lies some place else.” I leapt up, trying to snatch the can away. “We’re all stocked up here.”

            Knox’s reply was pinching my waist faster, making me laugh even harder.

            “Who’s the funny girl now?” he said, laughing right along with me.

            “You!” I screeched, trying to wrench out of his grasp. “You’re the funny girl now!”

Then, in a moment of sheer genius or stupidity, I twisted my leg behind Knox’s, curled it back sharply, and yanked with all of my might. I had the element of surprise, but the thing about taking down a guy the size of Hulk’s half-brother was that he took down whoever was still attached to him. In a heap of limbs and surprised huffs, we tumbled to the floor, him falling an instant before me, which was handy since he broke my fall. Although since his body wasn’t much softer than the floor, he only cushioned my fall marginally.

            Knox groaned. “You might not weigh much, but you come down like a ton of bricks, Charlie.”

            Kicking the can of Silly String out of his hand, I pinned his shoulders. “Though I be but little, I am fierce.”

            Knox inspected my hands on his shoulders and me above him, then something in his eyes gleamed. We were both covered in ribbons of neon purple string and had just been engaged in a sibling-like war, but I could still feel heat bursting to the surface and traveling through my body until the entirety of it seemed to be consumed.

            “I didn’t know you knew Shakespeare,” he said, his voice a note lower. “I took you more as a Plath kind of girl.”

            “I didn’t know you knew Shakespeare. Or Plath.” I suppose knowing of them didn’t mean he’d read them, but as time had continued to reveal, there was more to Knox than anyone would have guessed. “I took you more as a Maxim kind of guy.”

            He shifted below me. The movement did nothing to calm the heat pooling in my stomach. “It is my Bible. Everything a guy needs to know about women and love is contained in the pages of one of those babies.”

            I lightly slugged his chest. “I think you’re mistaking love for lust. I see how you could get them confused, no doubt they’re six-and-one-half dozen to you, but there is one teeny-tiny difference between the two.”

            When Knox pivoted below me so his back was flat across the floor, my body went to slide off of his out of instinct. My legs spread across his lap, our hips connected, our eyes locked and mouths parted . . . that was a recipe for a repeat of last night. Right now, a repeat sounded like exactly what I wanted, but I wasn’t sure if I’d feel the same in an hour. Plus, after Knox’s vow to keep me at arm’s length, I supposed heat or not, it was destined to fizzle out.

            “What’s that difference?” His hands gripped my hips, keeping them where they were.

            I had to clear my throat before I could answer. Something about having his hands on me, holding me to him, was messing with me. My mind, my senses, my voice. “With lust, the attraction is all based on what can you do for me? But with love, it’s about what can I do for you? Selfish versus selfless.”

            The skin between his brows lined. After a couple of moments, it erased as a wide smile crawled into place. “Yeah, that’s not what I’ve read.”

First Excerpt from HARD KNOX!

My newest novel, HARD KNOX, is releasing August 12th and to give you all a taste of what the book will be like, I'm releasing one excerpt today, and one more next Tuesday before the book releases the following Tuesday. HARD KNOX is a New Adult/Contemporary Romance, and the first in a series entitled The Outsider Chronicles which will highlight other outsider-type heroes and the heroines who manage to turn their world around, upside down, or just plain hurl it into another galaxy! For those of you who've read the CRASH series, it is somewhat similar in terms of the angst and drama, as well as the roller-coaster ride of a romance, although this series will be more mature.

If you haven't yet seen the cover or read the blurb, I've listed those below for you as well, along with the excerpt immediately following. Can't wait to share the rest of the story with you all!

If you'd like to add it to your Goodreads to-be-read list, here's the link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22672422-hard-knox 

And Bloggers, if you'd like to be a part of the HARD KNOX blog hop or review tour, here's the place to sign up: http://atomrbookblogtours.com/2014/07/17/new-release-and-events-for-nyt-bestselling-author-nicole-williams/ 

Knox Jagger. The name inspires resent in every male at Sinclair University, want in every female, and contempt in Charlie Chase. 

Charlie can be summed up in three words: independent, independent, and independent. To Charlie, Knox epitomizes everything that’s wrong with college males: prolific one-night stands, drunken senseless fights, and a body that hints at prioritizing gym time over study time. 

As an up-and-coming writer for Sinclair University’s newspaper, Charlie’s tasked with getting to the bottom of who’s been dropping little white pills into girls’ drinks at parties. In an ocean of All-American boys sporting polo shirts and innocent smiles, Knox is the obvious suspect. As evidence piles up against the bad boy of Sinclair, Charlie becomes more and more certain it isn’t Knox. But when her drink is dosed at a party and she wakes up on Knox’s couch the next morning, Charlie’s left with more questions than answers when it comes to Knox Jagger. 

How can Charlie ever hope to uncover the truth behind a guy so closed off he’s become . . .

Hard Knox.

(EXCERPT)

Back out on the sidewalk, I followed the stream of students wandering around the back of the building. There was a bit of a line at the door, and while I waited, a muffled chorus of snickers trickled around me. Some of the more brazen students pointed at me and my date while guffawing. One guy slid up beside me, wrapped an arm around me, lifted Pop Prince to his genital region, made a rock on symbol, and had the girl he was handcuffed to take a picture. I was debating whether to beat him over the head with Pop Prince or stomp on his foot when someone solved my problem for me.

A tall shadow shouldered up beside me, towering over the photo-op dude. “Such an accurate depiction, Aaron. The only thing non-discerning enough to go down on you is an oversized pillow.”

            The crowd burst into laughter, pointing their fingers at someone else. The flushing guy bowed his head and stepped back into line.

“Sorry, Knox,” he muttered, all bravado long gone.

            “Do it again, and you will be.”

            Aaron raised his hands and backed away until he’d disappeared inside the building with his cops-and-robbers compatriot. Knox stayed beside me, stepping up in line as I did.

“Hello or hey is the generally accepted form of greeting a person,” he said after a moment, nudging me.

            The nudge almost made me jump . . . but why, I don’t know. “Hey.” My voice was high. “Hello.”

            “One is usually sufficient, but knock yourself out,” he teased with another nudge.

            “Keep it up, and I’m about to issue a 'Get lost.'” I glanced at him, trying not to think about what Neve had accused him of, trying not to think about the implications if it were true . . . Which it wasn’t.

            “I’m thinking about saying the exact same thing to you,” he said, all lightness gone from his voice.

            I glanced over to find his eyes forward and his forehead creased. Decked out in his typical ass-kicking attire, his expression matched the wardrobe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

            “It means I can’t in my most out-there thoughts understand what you’re doing here all alone one week after someone roofied you. I mean, I’ve met plenty of not-smart girls in my lifetime, but you pulling this stunt might take the cake.”

            My shoulders stiffened. “The next time I want an assessment of my intelligence from the guy responsible for keeping the lingerie-store-that-shall-not-be-named in booming business, I’ll ask. In the meantime, I’ve got a job to do.”

            Two more couples were in front of us as we moved farther up in line.

“You know, it’s a relief there isn’t any awkwardness between us,” Knox said. “You know, the kind that stems from you being overwhelmed with gratitude for what I did for you and not knowing what to say or how to act when I’m around because you now think of me as some kind of higher power or something. It’s nice to know you’re comfortable treating me the exact same way you were before I swooped in to preserve your innocence.”

            I felt the blood boiling in my veins. “I think your interpretation of innocence is a bit skewed if you think I fall into that category. Might want to check one of those heavy, hard things with a lot of pages inside. Also known as a dictionary, if you were wondering.”

            Knox cracked his neck, rolled it to the other side, and cracked it again. “All week, I couldn’t figure out why my life felt so peaceful, so almost harmonic, but I just realized why.”

            When a couple seconds of quiet passed, I sighed. “Get on with the punchline already.”

            “It was so peaceful and serene because you weren’t in it.” He thrust his hand at me.

            “So why don’t you get back to your blissful state and leave me and my cynicism alone?” When I flailed my hands around, Pop Prince thumped Knox’s leg. Neither seemed to mind.

            “Because your cynicism can’t pull you off the ground and protect you if you find yourself in another bad situation,” he said in a firm tone as we stepped up to the door.

            When the two guys manning the entrance looked at me and Pop Prince, they shook their heads.

            “The only stipulation was that we arrive handcuffed with something of the opposite sex. It didn’t specify that it needed to be one that breathed.” I wiggled the pillow and waited.

            When they shook their heads again, Knox exhaled. “Ah, what the hell.” He yanked the pillow out of the handcuff before opening it and slapping it around his own wrist. “Happy now, hall monitors?”

            “Excuse me?” I tugged on the cuffs, trying not to give too much credence to the knowledge I was handcuffed to Knox Jagger.

            “Not another word,” he warned, making sure the cuff was locked. I was a millisecond or less from opening my mouth in protest again when his eyes cut to mine. “Not. Another. Word.”

            Instead of words, I hit him with a potent glare, but that was all the fight I put up. The truth of it was that I was partially relieved I didn’t have to go to this thing alone. After last week, I wasn’t eager to step into another party where the person who’d drugged me could be hanging out. Having Knox at my side made me feel safe, and after my latest life lesson, feeling safe was something I’d never take for granted again.

            “The key?”

Both of the guys were wincing as though they were waiting for Knox to pummel them into the ground, but the key requester looked closer to pissing his pants. Not that I could blame them because on a normal night, Knox could strip a person of their confidence and courage with one look. Tonight, he’d doubled up on his intimidating pills.

            Dangling the handcuff key in front of the guy, I dropped it into his palm. “Anything else?”

            The other guy grinned when he looked at me. Well, when he looked south of my neck. “Thirty-four E.”

            “Is that your future address at the trailer park?” I wondered if he’d failed to notice or just plain ignored the words stamped across my shirt. The “some people”, in this case, were his parents.

            “I’ve got an impressive record for guessing the size of a girl’s endowments, but I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing yours.” The guy was either semi-drunk or missing a few links in his genetic code because he wasn’t seeing anything other than my “endowments” —including Knox Jagger’s curled fists lifting his direction.

            “Craisins,” I said, driving my shoulder into Knox’s chest to stop his advance. Not only could I solve most of my own problems, but I could solve them with words instead of fists. When the guy’s brows stayed pulled together, I clarified. “You know, those little dried-up cranberry things? Smaller than a raisin but larger than the head of a pin?”

            “What the hell do Craisins have to do with my future motor-boating site?”

            Before Knox could flinch, I drove my shoulder deeper into his chest. “Nothing,” I answered. “They have nothing to do with your guess. Instead, it’s my guess.”

            “Your guess for what?” the guy said impatiently.

            Lifting a shoulder, I shoved by him. “The size of your testicles.”

            Knox was the only one chuckling behind me.            

            “You’d better watch your girl’s mouth, Jagger. If it isn’t around some dude’s johnson, remind her to keep it sealed.”

            The crack came right after. It was immediately followed by the mouthy guy’s pathetic cry, and the crowd’s chorus of Fight! Fight! Fight! Glancing back, I saw the chest-guesser was sprawled out on the lawn and, other than rubbing his jaw, wasn’t moving. Kind of made chanting for a fight pointless.

            “Sorry. I was too busy paying attention to your mouth.”