Proper
Irish
A Jaded Lily Novella
By Zeia Jameson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release
Date: March 1, 2017
Available on
Kindle Unlimited
Stella
Rosencourt is the premier event coordinator of Savannah’s elite. With her
biggest event of the year ahead - the Mayor's St. Patrick's Day ball - she has
little time for distractions. But the mysterious Padraig MacNamara and his lush
Irish accent are definitely proving to be a distraction.
Padraig
MacNamara is an inked enigma. A man of few words who crashes in the back room
of the Jaded Lily tattoo parlor and associates with questionable people around
town. Stella is convinced he has a vendetta against her but over what, she
doesn’t know. Her instincts are warning her to stay away. Her curiosity is
begging her to figure him out.
What happens when you’re wickedly attracted to the person you hate the most?
What happens when you’re wickedly attracted to the person you hate the most?
“This book was
SOOO good. In this book you get an incredible cast of characters.” - A
Beautiful Book Blog
“It's a
beautiful story with many winners in the end.” - Goodreads Review Susan PA
“Zeia has a way
of making her characters and written world come alive!” - I am a Book
Hoarder
I stare at him
as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. His eyes open again. “You smell like
honeysuckle.”
“I’m a little
surprised that you know what that smells like.”
“It’s all around
the city. How can I not know?”
“Good point.” I
close my eyes and inhale. “You smell . . . Irish.”
“What the bloody
hell does that mean?”
“I have no idea,
but I like it.” I open my eyes to see Padraig’s face coming closer to mine. He
tilts his head, and suddenly our lips are connected and his hand is cupping the
back of my head. My entire body quivers. He’s taken me completely by surprise,
and I enjoy it thoroughly. He didn’t ask permission or make subtle hints that
he wanted to kiss me; he just did it. And I take every second of it. I grasp
his shirt with both hands for balance and inhale more of his Irish scent. My
head swirls, not even concerning myself with the fact that I’m being kissed by
a stud on the side of a bustling Savannah street. I think I hear catcalls in
the background. Padraig breaks our connection and sears me with his smoldering
gaze. I want to ask him to come upstairs, but as excited as I am to think what
could happen, I’m also too scared at the moment to find out if it’s a
possibility. I run my hands up his chest, feeling the firmness underneath his
shirt.
“Padraig,” I
start. Padraig kisses me again, a quick kiss.
“Aoibhinn, my
sweet honeysuckle.” He brushes my hair from my face. “I will see you again
soon.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Other than that, I’m speechless. One last quick kiss with his fingers in my
hair and then he turns without saying another word, shoves his hands into his
pockets, and walks away into the night.
Zeia Jameson's
passion for writing compels her to get into the zone and type until her fingers
go numb. When not submerged within her own stories, she enjoys curling up in
her large reading chair, snuggling underneath a blanket, and feeding her
addictions of coffee and reading. She is fond of humor and laughter and
believes these are elements that keep the world sane and spinning.
Zeia lives in Georgia with her husband and daughter, where they spend most of
their time exploring recipes, binging on Netflix, drawing chalk-art on
sidewalks, and avoiding pollen at all costs.
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