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"GET READY WHEN LOVE WALTZES IN!
To her millions of fans, ballroom champion Selena Marcil seems to have the perfect life: a great dance partner, a hit reality show, and celebrity perks. But underneath the glamorous ball gowns, Selena longs to find someone to share her life with when the stage lights dim.
Selena’s childhood sweetheart, Bret Lord, hung up his dance shoes after winning two national titles with her as a teenager, and enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. He never saw his former fiancée again, except on television and on the cover of men’s magazines. Ten years and three deployments later, Bret gets an offer to audition for Selena’s dance show. When the Marine Corps gives him temporary leave to appear on the series, Bret can’t refuse the quick cash that will enable him to provide financially for the widow of his buddy, even if it does mean coming face to face with his past.
When Bret shows up at her national championship, Selena is shocked. For years she searched for him to no avail. After spending time with Bret, Selena realizes despite their past romance, they have no future. He has no desire to live under a spotlight and she has no desire to leave it. Can Selena and Bret recognize when Love Waltzes In?"
Excerpt
Staff
Sergeant Bret Lord sat on the dirty floor of his tent, going through the day’s
mail: the latest Men’s Fitness
magazine from his sister, a care package from his mom. He ripped open the package—socks,
lip balm, sunflower seeds, and a thin letter that contained an old magazine
clipping.
Dear Bret,
I miss you very much.
Benny asked me to send you this article. I really wish you would consider his
offer. Please stay safe.
Love, Mom
He swallowed hard. A neon sticky pressed on the wrinkled
page had a note scrawled on it from his former master dance coach.
Bret, m’boy,
We’ll make it worth
your time.
Cheers, Benny.
Thumbing the edge of the article, Bret stared at the
sixteen-year-old boy in the picture and could barely recognize himself. His
shoulder length, wavy blond hair was slicked back, not shorn in a “high and
tight” like his current haircut. No signs of the tattoos or muscles that
currently defined his body. Golden skin stained from a bottle, not the harsh
sun of Iraq. His arms were wrapped around a gorgeous, curvy young girl with
long jet-black hair. The jade Latin gown she wore matched the color of her
almond-shaped eyes.
Bret tossed the article aside and removed his nine-mil pistol
from his holster to clean it.
Lance Corporal Hernandez walked by Bret and snatched the
article off his cot. After staring at it, Hernandez’s face brightened.
“Hey, Staff Sergeant, this you?”
“No, it’s my clone who’s also named Bret Lord.” Bret slid the
rail back on his weapon and began disassembling it.
“Staff Sergeant, you know Selena Marcil? Did you hit that?”
“Shut up, Hernandez, or the one getting hit will be you—with
the butt stock of my rifle.” Bret grabbed the paper out of Hernandez’s hands, and
smacked him on the side of the head. The kid didn’t flinch.
“Staff Sergeant Twinkle Toes. Hey—can you hook me up with
Selena? I’ll be her boy toy. I love her. Man, she’s smoking. Has the nicest
ass. Not like all those skinny, Russian chicks on that show.” He nodded to
himself with an eyebrow dancing. “Selena’s on my list. She’s Latina, too. We’d
be perfect together. What was she doing with a gringo like you?”
“Hernandez,
you’re way out of line.” Bret reassembled his pistol.
“My
bad, Staff Sergeant.”
Bret grabbed the article, his pack, and his rifle. It was
impossible to get some privacy in the tent. His only option was to sit outside
in a sandstorm but even that sounded like a welcome retreat from his immature
men. He walked about five hundred feet, then plopped down in the hot sand.
The red sky hung above him, thick from smoke from the nearby
town. Bret struggled to catch a glimpse of the distant mountains. Sand seemed
to pelt down from the heavens, blinding him and settling into every crevice in
his body. He closed his eyes against the sting of the sand, and turned his
thoughts to Selena. Was she the diva the tabloids made her out to be? Even
after ten years, he could almost smell her buttery-coconut scent. A welcome
change from the overflowing shitters, toxic diesel, and stench of his fellow
Marines who hadn’t bathed in three weeks.
The deep popping sound of shots from a nearby AK-47 roused
his ears but Bret didn’t move.
As a marksmanship instructor, he could distinguish the sound
of any weapon system. These shots weren’t the lighter, faster rounds of his
men’s M16s. Looking past the palm trees that peppered the dismal scene of
dilapidated shacks, he tried to get a location on the origin of the gunfire.
Probably just some insurgents outside of base. The rules of engagement were
clear—he couldn’t stop them from killing each other even if he wanted to. And
he definitely wasn’t going to endanger the lives of his men.
The sandstorm let up, and he reached into his pack to grab
dinner. Spaghetti with Meat and Sauce
was his favorite Meal Ready to Eat,
even if it did taste like chalk. He hoped it came with cinnamon apples for
dessert. He opened the box and laid out his day’s bounty: cherry-blueberry
cobbler, potato sticks, wheat snack bread, plain cheese spread, lemon-lime
beverage powder, and accessory pack “A” – coffee, creamer, sugar, salt,
Tabasco, a moist towelette, toilet paper, chewing gum, and matches. Bret opened
the cooking bag, placed the spaghetti pouch in it, filled it with water, and
then leaned it against a rock to cook.
He stared at the picture of himself and Selena winning the
U.S. National Youth Amateur Latin Ballroom Championship. Selena was the star of
the hit series Dancing under the Stars.
His childhood sweetheart was now plastered on the cover of magazines,
billboards, and advertisements. The details of his life back then had faded
away from his memory. Being at war made everything a blur.
Bret took a swig of water from his camelbak and downed two
anti-malaria pills: one blue, one pink. The Marine Corps assured the troops
that it was safe but Bret couldn’t help but wonder if the pills caused his
daily headaches. Then again, maybe the migraines were just from the
hundred-degree heat.
Staff Sergeant Ray Wilson emerged from the tent, and sat beside
him. Even though Bret had wanted to be alone, he was happy to have his friend’s
company.
“Slim Jim?” Ray offered. As Bret ripped the plastic off the
snack, Ray nodded at the magazine article lying in the sand. “What’s that all
about?”
Bret grunted. “A month ago, my mom told me that the judge on
Dancing asked her if I would consider
doing the show. He just sent me a note.”
“For
real?” Ray took a bite of his own Slim Jim. “You’d have to be stupid to give up
this paradise of sand and gunfire for the mansions of Hollywood. Your mother
does realize you’re a Marine right? You can’t just leave the Corps and go on
reality television.”
“That’s what I told her. But she has this crazy
idea that the Marine Corps would let me do it for one season—like a recruiting
tool. I doubt that, but I could use my vacation leave. Remember that kid on American Pop Star?”
“Yeah.
Didn’t he gain like thirty pounds and fail his PFT? Can you still dance,
Patrick Swayze?”
“Good enough to teach some teen mom from MTV how to cha-cha.
I’d be the laughing stock of the Corps.”
“Maybe not. I mean you are
the only Devil Dawg who happens to be a ballroom champion. You could be
that all-American hero. The pretty face that recruits a load more boys to come
join the rest of us here, and get shot at.”
“If you think it sounds so great, I’ll tell her you’ll do
it.” Bret hated the public’s obsession with the “celebrities” on these shows.
Young kids who became millionaires for making a sex tape or wasting their days
doing nothing but going to the gym, tanning and partying. Meanwhile, Bret and
his buddies were out here in hell, dodging bullets.
Bret checked his spaghetti. He dug into the warm, gooey
meal.
Ray shrugged. “The only dance I know is the ‘Harlem Shake,’
and something tells me I’d be more of a target for that than I am for being a
Marine in Iraq.”
Bret had no desire to ever dance again. Once he’d joined the
Corps, he had found his calling. “Nah, I’d rather stay here with my men. I
wouldn’t even consider it—if it weren’t for Pierce.”
Ray blinked hard. “What does the show have to do with
Pierce?”
“I promised him that I’d take care of his family if anything
happened to him. If I did the show, I could earn enough money to buy them a
house.”
“Dawg, you would do that for them? That would be crazy.”
“He’d have done it for me.” Bret knew that Pierce would’ve
done anything for him. Pierce had already proved that.
They sat there in silence.
Ray nodded toward Bret. “Pierce was a good dude. You should
do it.”
Bret’s hands became sticky with sweat. “I couldn’t. I’d make
a fool out of myself.”
“Man, it wouldn’t be that bad.” Ray stretched out. “And you
can go check out your ex-fiancée—she is Maxim’s
Sexiest Girl Alive. Even if she is with that pretty-boy dancer.”
“Dima? That guy’s a jerk. He was one of our coaches. But I
would never get back together with Selena.” Though she was sexier than ever,
Bret had no desire to go there, despite the fact that he could still remember
every inch of her body. A relationship between them could never work out. She
was too focused on her career—always had been. He loved the Marines and
wouldn’t allow himself to get tempted by the fame and money of Hollywood. But
he still felt protective over her after all she had been through as a child and
he hated seeing her all sexed up for the cameras. The thought of a bunch of
Marines jerking off to pictures of his first love made him sick.
Ray
rolled his eyes. “Well you never know. Maybe she’s changed.” Ray broke out a
bag of Skittles. “I’ll go with you. Can you request Beyoncé as your partner?”
Bret
laughed. “Not sure if Jay Z would like that. Or your wife.” Ray had one of the
good ones. Ray’s wife was any Marine’s dream. Beautiful and faithful, Nia
raised their four children while Ray was away. She was the head of the Key
Wives’ Club, kept her body tight, and still had time to send Ray the best care
packages, hence his endless supply of Slim Jims.
Bret had tried to have that family life once, but it didn’t
work out. After that experience, Bret had vowed never to get close to anyone
again, at least until he left the Corps. He needed to focus on guiding his
men—not be distracted wondering if another man kept his girl’s bed warm while
Bret fought a war thousands of miles away.
Ray stood up. “Nia’d be cool with it. She loves the show,
man. Do it. Big shot reality star will need security. I got your back.”
If Bret did it, he’d want to have Ray by his side to handle
the entertainment world. But it wouldn’t be to get back with Selena. Bret had
no desire to live in the spotlight, and from what he could see, she had no
desire to leave it. He stuffed the article back into his pocket containing his
“If I should die” letter.
The roar of the rounds boomed through the sky. His cammies
were soaked in sweat and felt heavy on his chest. He couldn’t see anything, but
the rumbling of the helicopters overhead told him this was no training
exercise.
Ray
and Bret didn’t say a word; they knew what was about to go down. A fire built
in Bret’s chest and adrenaline took over. Moments like this made all the
sacrifices of war worth it—knowing that his life meant something and that he
was responsible for not only protecting his men, but also ensuring the safety
of Americans back home. Bret tossed the rest of the food into his pack and
gathered his weapon. They raced into the tent.
Bret
screamed at his men. “Grab your weapons and take cover!”
Review
Firstly, I absolutely adore these types of books. I love it when either one of the exes is a celebrity and then when they meet each other for first time in so many years they feel that chemistry. Is it only me??
So... from the blurb I was hooked and I was like, I have to read this!
It seriously didn't disappoint. The beginning didn't get dragged on and wasn't delayed at all. Usually when books do that......... bad idea. It just makes everything boring. Even though, you might want the book to be longer, so you make the beginning longer.... it doesn't help at all. It makes the book boring and the reader bored and yeah......
Bret was a nice guy. He is quite humble and very unselfish. The blurb never really says much about how they broke up. It kinda makes you assume that he left her to go to war and that makes him the bad guy but, when you read it- it is a very different story... very different. I mean him getting loads of money to do a dance show and giving it to the widow of his best friend who died is a pretty good damn thing to do. I know that there are very few people who would do that. They might have that intention in the beginning but, the temptation of money might be too much.
Selena.... for some reason, I didn't like as much as I thought I would. I think I just liked her because she was the main female protagonist and the love interest of Bret. I found her quite spoilt and annoying and yeahh.... I can't really describe it. I think I just don't like her for no apparent reason.
I found the plot quite original. I've never read a book circling around the ballroom dancing world. It probably is exaggerated but, I think it captured how competitive it is and how fierce you have to be to get to the top.
I really liked this book! And apparently, it is the first book of the series, so I'm excited for the next book.
Quite a quick read and so sweet and romantic! ^.^
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