By Alice Clayton
Searching for the proper mixture of shrewdpermanent, horny, and sassy? Mai Tai’d Up keeps ny instances bestselling writer Alice Clayton’s Cocktail sequence, which started with Wallbanger and endured with Rusty Nailed and Screwdrivered.
The gossip mill within the beach neighborhood of Monterey is churning approximately Chloe Patterson, the newcomer who's beginning a sanctuary for rescued pit bulls. It’s rumored that she’s a former attractiveness queen (true) who ditched her fiancé the morning in their marriage ceremony (also true). And that whereas she’s now not searching for a brand new guy, the handsome neighborhood veterinarian has his eye on her. completely, certainly true.
When Lucas Campbell isn’t on the family members veterinary health facility, he’s paddle boarding in Monterey Bay. lately unmarried, he’s certainly no longer available in the market for a brand new courting, yet he nonetheless can’t face up to taking a moment, 3rd, and fourth examine the new arrival of omit Golden State.
Neither Lucas nor Chloe has any curiosity in being tied down. Being tied up, however—now there’s a suggestion. yet are a couple of Mai Tais, a moonlit evening, and the tune of Frank Sinatra sufficient to permit them either to overlook their earlier? Let’s desire Ol’ Blue Eyes understands what he’s doing.
Mix one half tiki, one half kinky, and a touch of outdated black magic matchmaking, and it’s time to be . . . Mai Tai’d Up.
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Additional info for Mai Tai'd Up
Kids, I’m sorry, but the truth is, a few evenings spent sleeping with strangers and tripping your brains out on peyote or some really clean blotter acid would be the best thing that could ever happen to you. Forget trying to get a job at Google or trying to raise venture funding for some startup. Go down to the Mission and score some weed. Buy yourself a bong, and fire it up. Then go think of an idea for a company. Which is all a long way of saying that the first thing I do when I get home from the Ultimate Frisbee game is go upstairs to my office, put on some Leonard Cohen and fire up a bowl of some fine reddish buds.
After the meal, Larry gets up and shows off his karate moves, which scares the shit out of the geisha girls. They all go running from the room screaming. By the time we’re done it’s five in the afternoon. From Larry’s driveway we can see out over the entire Valley. Low black clouds are massing overhead, getting ready to pour. Up here in the hills a few fat drops have started splattering down. “All those poor bastards,” Larry says, nodding toward Route 280, where the traffic is jammed up and inching along.
Obnoxious. I’m told all the time that I seem like a narcissistic egomaniac. You know what I say? I say, “Look, wouldn’t you be an egomaniac if you woke up one day and found out you were me? ” Of course the bad part of being such a mega-rich mega-famous mega-creative genius is that there are always some jerks looking to take a shot at you. In my case those jerks include the United States government, and despite everything I’ve done for the world—or maybe because of it—they are determined to put me out of business.
Mai Tai'd Up by Alice Clayton