We are so excited to be bringing you the release of SUNDAYS ARE FOR HANGOVERS by K Webster and J.D. Hollyfield. You don't want to miss this brand new enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy--be sure to grab your copy today!

 

 

About SUNDAYS ARE FOR HANGOVERS

For nearly a year, they’ve been at war.
Cops. Forks. Eggs.
Two feuding neighbors who couldn’t be more opposite, forced to live next door to one another.
Neither is backing down.

She drives him crazy with her loud nineties rap music.
He gets under her skin the way he obsesses over his stupid lawn.

She fantasizes about having sex with the sexy nerd—but with duct tape over his dumb mouth.
He has dirty dreams of the bombshell beauty where he bangs the crazy right out of her—nightmares of course.
Anger isn’t the only thing heating up between these two.

They think this is a battle only one of them can win…
The growing attraction between them, though, seems to be far more stubborn than the two of them combined.

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Read an excerpt from SUNDAYS ARE FOR HANGOVERS

I stewed all day at work over the kiss that almost led to so much more. She’s making me lose my mind. I even made an error on a calculation and damn near accused the head of the mortgage department of fraud. What an ass I felt like when I reran the numbers only to conclude I was, in fact, wrong.

I’m never wrong.

I yank off my T-shirt and wipe the sweat from my face as I run. My phone is playing some old-school Metallica. The loud, raging guitars not only make me want to pull out my own guitar and start plucking away on some songs, but it also helps pump me up into realizing this morning was a mistake.

Lilith is hot, no doubt.

But I can’t stand her.



How does one want to fuck someone they hate?

I’m just rounding the corner to my street when I nearly trip over my own feet and fall. Lilith, in a black bikini top and a pair of cut-off daisy duke shorts, is washing her cherry-red Mustang in her driveway. The sun is going down, but the sunlight seems to seek her out. Golden strands in her hair catch the light and glimmer. I trot to a stop just to stare.

Fuck, there goes my resolve.

Wet. Bangin’ body. Tits and curves and that ass.

I’m hopeless.

I catch the old man, Mr. Daniels, across the street swinging in his porch swing, a goofy grin on his gray-whiskered face. It makes me want to build a fence in front of her house so he can’t look at her. Being President of the HOA, I could probably even get away with it…

“Yo, Wonka,” she calls out as I near. “You’re looking hot.”

I puff out my bare chest and smirk because at least someone notices all the hard work—

All thoughts are dashed when cold water blasts me in the face.

“Better cool you off!” she yells as she sprays me down.

She shoots my glasses right off my face and I end up dropping my shirt. I don’t stop to pick my shit up but instead chase down the blur who is now running from me while trying to soak me at the same time. I hook an arm around her wet waist but end up stumbling over my own feet since I can’t see where the fuck I’m going. We land in her grass with a collective “oomph.” She’s face down and my dick is conveniently pressed against her ass.

“You live to antagonize me,” I grumble as I bury my nose in her hair and inhale her.

She wiggles and the only thing she’s successful at doing is making me impossibly harder. “You started it.”

“And I’ll finish it.”

I tug at the string on her neck and then the one at her mid back. With a quick pull, I relieve her of her bikini top.

“Oh no, you just didn’t!” she squeals, a loud, adorable laugh escaping from her.

It’s then as I rise to my feet with her top in my hand that I realize my crazy neighbor is getting under my skin. She’s burying herself deep inside of me so I can’t think or focus on anything else. And I’m not sure I want to anyway.

She stands with her palms covering her perfect tits. Her smile is wicked as she arches a brow at me and backs up toward her house. “It’s on, Wonka. It’s fucking on.”

I smirk at her cute, dirty mouth. “Technically it’s off, demon girl.” I sling her top over my shoulder and walk over to collect my glasses and shirt. “Just face it, you’re not winning anything.” I slide on my glasses so I can fully appreciate the swells of her tits barely contained by her tiny hands.

Her back hits the front door and she shrugs. “We’ll see.”

And then she flips me off before slipping inside her house.

But not before me and Mr. Daniels get a nice, quick peek of a perfect tit I’m convinced I won’t see the last of.

Game on, Lilith, game on.

 

 

About K Webster

K Webster is the USA Today bestselling author of over fifty romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, dark romance, romantic suspense, taboo romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her hilarious and handsome husband and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

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About J.D. Hollyfield