Book Description
Release Date: August 14, 2012
The new Abby Abernathy is a good girl. She doesn’t drink
or swear, and she has the appropriate number of cardigans in her
wardrobe. Abby believes she has enough distance from the darkness of her
past, but when she arrives at college with her best friend, her path to
a new beginning is quickly challenged by Eastern University’s Walking
One-Night Stand. Travis Maddox, lean, cut, and covered in tattoos, is
exactly what Abby wants—and needs—to avoid. He spends his nights
winning money in a floating fight ring, and his days as the ultimate
college campus charmer. Intrigued by Abby’s resistance to his appeal,
Travis tricks her into his daily life with a simple bet. If he loses, he
must remain abstinent for a month. If Abby loses, she must live in
Travis’s apartment for the same amount of time. Either way, Travis has
no idea that he has met his match.
Editorial Reviews
Review
"
Beautiful Disaster is insanely addictive. Beautifully
sexy, beautifully intense, and beautifully perfect. Jamie McGuire has
written a damn good book." —Jessica Park, author of
New York Times bestseller
Flat-Out Love
About the Author
Jamie McGuire is the author of the
New York Times bestseller
Beautiful Disaster and
The Providence Trilogy.
She and her husband, Jeff, live with their children just outside Enid,
Oklahoma, with four dogs, four horses, and a cat named Rooster. Please
visit JamieMcGuire.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
RED FLAG
Everything
in the room screamed that I didn’t belong. The stairs were crumbling,
the rowdy patrons were shoulder to shoulder, and the air was a medley of
sweat, blood and mold. Voices blurred as they yelled numbers and names
back and forth, and arms flailed about, exchanging money and gestures to
communicate over the noise. I squeezed through the crowd, following
close behind my best friend.
“Keep your cash in your wallet, Abby!” America called to me. Her broad smile gleamed even in the dim light.
“Stay
close! It’ll get worse once it starts!” Shepley yelled over the noise.
America grabbed his hand and then mine as Shepley led us through the sea
of people.
The sharp bleating of a bullhorn cut through the
smoky air. The noise startled me, and I jumped in reaction, looking for
the source of the blast. A man stood on a wooden chair, holding a wad of
cash in one hand, the horn in the other. He held the plastic to his
lips.
“Welcome to the blood bath! If you are looking for
Economics 101…you are in the wrong fucking place, my friend! If you seek
the Circle, this is Mecca! My name is Adam. I make the rules and I call
the fight. Betting ends once the opponents are on the floor. No
touching the fighters, no assistance, no bet switching, and no
encroachment of the ring. If you break these rules, you will get the
piss beat out of you and you will be thrown out on your ass without your
money! That includes you, ladies! So don’t use your hos to scam the
system, boys!”
Shepley shook his head. “Jesus, Adam!” he yelled
to the emcee over the noise, clearly disapproving of his friend’s choice
of words.
My heart pounded in my chest. With a pink cashmere
cardigan and pearl earrings, I felt like a schoolmarm on the beaches of
Normandy. I promised America that I could handle whatever we happened
upon, but at ground zero I felt the urge to grip her toothpick of an arm
with both hands. She wouldn’t put me in any danger, but being in a
basement with fifty or so drunken college boys intent on bloodshed and
capital, I wasn’t exactly confident of our chances to leave unscathed.
After
America met Shepley at freshman orientation, she frequently accompanied
him to the secret fights held in different basements of Eastern
University. Each event was held in a different spot, and kept secret
until just an hour before the fight.
Because I ran in somewhat
tamer circles, I was surprised to learn of an underground world at
Eastern; but Shepley knew about it before he had ever enrolled. Travis,
Shepley’s roommate and cousin, entered his first fight seven months
before. As a freshman, he was rumored to be the most lethal competitor
Adam had seen in the three years since creating the Circle. Beginning
his sophomore year, Travis was unbeatable. Together, Travis and Shepley
easily paid their rent and bills with the winnings.
Adam brought the bullhorn to his mouth once again, and the yelling and movement escalated to a feverish pace.
“Tonight we have a new challenger! Eastern’s star varsity wrestler, Marek Young!”
Cheering
ensued, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea when Marek entered the
room. A circular space cleared, and the mob whistled, booed and taunted
the contender. He bounced up and down and rocked his neck back and
forth, his face severe and focused. The crowd quieted to a dull roar,
and my hands shot to my ears when music blared through the large
speakers on the other side of the room.
“Our next fighter doesn’t
need an introduction, but because he scares the shit outta me, I’ll
give him one, anyway! Shake in your boots, boys, and drop your panties,
ladies! I give you: Travis ‘Mad Dog’ Maddox!”
The volume exploded
when Travis appeared in a doorway across the room. He made his
entrance, shirtless, relaxed and unaffected. He strolled into the center
of the circle as if he were showing up to another day at work. Lean
muscles stretched under his tattooed skin as he popped his fists against
Marek’s knuckles. Travis leaned in and whispered something in Marek’s
ear, and the wrestler struggled to keep his stern expression. Marek
stood toe to toe with Travis, and they looked directly into each other’s
eyes. Marek’s expression was murderous; Travis looked mildly amused.
The
men took a few steps back, and Adam sounded the horn. Marek took a
defensive stance, and Travis attacked. I stood on my tiptoes when I lost
my line of sight, leaning from side to side to get a better view. I
inched up, sliding through the screaming crowd. Elbows jabbed into my
sides, and shoulders rammed into me, bouncing me back and forth like a
pinball. The tops of the fighers’ heads became visible, so I continued
to push my way forward.
When I finally reached the front, Marek
grabbed Travis with his thick arms and tried to throw him to the ground.
When Marek leaned down with the motion, Travis rammed his knee into
Marek’s face. Before Marek could shake off the blow, Travis lit into
him, his fists making contact with Marek’s bloodied face over and over.
Five fingers sank into my arm and I jerked back.
“What the hell are you doing, Abby?” Shepley said.
“I can’t see from back there!” I called to him.
I
turned just in time to see Marek land a solid punch. Travis turned, and
for a moment I thought he had dodged another blow, but he made a
complete circle, crashing his elbow straight into the center of Marek’s
nose. Blood sprayed my face, and splattered down the front of my
cardigan. Marek fell to the concrete floor with a thud, and for a brief
moment the room was completely silent.
Adam threw a scarlet
square of fabric on Marek’s limp body, and the mob detonated. Cash
changed hands once again, and the expressions divided into the smug and
the frustrated.
I was pushed around with the movement of those
coming and going. America called my name from somewhere in the back, but
I was mesmerized by the trail of red from my chest to my waist.
A
pair of heavy black boots stepped in front of me, diverting my
attention to the floor. My eyes traveled upward; jeans spattered with
blood, a set of finely chiseled abs, a bare, tattooed chest drenched in
sweat, and finally a pair of warm, brown eyes. I was shoved from behind,
and Travis caught me by the arm before I fell forward.
“Hey!
Back up off her!” Travis frowned, shoving anyone who came near me. His
stern expression melted into a smile at the sight my shirt, and then he
dabbed my face with a towel. “Sorry about that, Pigeon.”
Adam patted the back of Travis’ head. “C’mon, Mad Dog! You have some dough waitin’ on ya!”
His
eyes didn’t stray from mine. “It’s a damn shame about the sweater. It
looks good on you.” In the next moment he was engulfed by fans,
disappearing the way he came.
“What were you thinking, you idiot?” America yelled, yanking my arm.
“I came here to see a fight, didn’t I?” I said, smiling.
“You aren’t even supposed to be here, Abby,” Shepley scolded.
“Neither is America,” I said.
“She doesn’t try to jump in the circle!” He frowned. “Let’s go.”
America
smiled at me and wiped my face. “You are such a pain in the ass, Abby.
God, I love you!” She hooked her arm around my neck, and we made our way
up the stairs and into the night.
America followed me into my
dorm room and then sneered at my roommate, Kara. I immediately peeled
off the bloody cardigan, throwing it into the hamper.
“Gross. Where have you been?” Kara asked from her bed.
I looked to America, who shrugged. “Nosebleed. You haven’t seen one of Abby’s famous nosebleeds?”
Kara pushed up her glasses and shook her head.
“Oh,
you will.” She winked at me and then shut the door behind her. Less
than a minute later, my cell phone chimed. Per her usual, America texted
me seconds after we had said goodbye.
staying w shep c u 2morrow ring queen
I peeked at Kara who watched me as if my nose would gush at any moment.
“She was kidding,” I said.
Kara nodded with indifference and then looked down to the mess of books on her bedspread.
“I guess I’ll get a shower,” I said, grabbing a towel and my shower bag.
“I’ll alert the media,” Kara deadpanned, keeping her head down.
· · ·
The
next day, Shepley and America joined me for lunch. I had intended to
sit alone, but as students filtered into the cafeteria, the chairs
around me were filled by either Shepley’s frat brothers or members of
the football team. Some of them had been at the fight, but no one
mentioned my ringside experience.
“Shep,” a passing voice called.
Shepley
nodded, and America and I both turned to see Travis take a seat at the
end of the table. He was followed by two voluptuous bottle-blondes
wearing Sigma Kappa Ts. One of them sat on Travis’ lap, the other sat
beside him, pawing at his shirt.
“I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth,” America muttered.
The blonde on Travis’s lap turned to America. “I heard that, skank.”
America
grabbed her roll and threw it down the table, narrowly missing the
girl’s face. Before the girl could say another word, Travis let his
knees give way, sending her tumbling to the floor.
“Ouch!” she squealed, looking up at Travis.
“America’s a friend of mine. You need to find another lap, Lex.”
“Travis!” she whined, scrambling to her feet.
Travis turned his attention to his plate, ignoring her. She looked at her sister and huffed, and they left hand in hand.
Travis winked at America, and,...
Product Details
- Paperback: 432 pages
- Publisher: Atria Books; Original edition (August 14, 2012)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 1476712042
- ISBN-13: 978-1476712048
-
Product Dimensions:
8.2 x 5.3 x 1.3 inches
- Shipping Weight: 12 ounces
