Paradise
Hops
By
Liz Crowe
BLURB:
A brutal attack left Lori Brockton convinced she
was damaged goods.
By the time
she emerges from hiding two
years later,
ready
to run her
family's famous brewery, she's determined to be independent--never rely on anyone
ever again.
Nearly a
year
of working in every corner
of Brockton Brewing Company, from warehouse to pub, front office to kitchen, teaches her all she needs
to know about the business.
Then, she comes
face-to-face with masculine perfection in a suit and her world is rocked in
more ways than one. Garret Hunter is the new Brockton business manager who takes one look at
the beautiful, sad young woman and his entire existence coalesces around
winning her heart.
But standing between Garrett and what
he believes is his true love, is a six-feet six-inch blond-haired bad boy brewer.
Eli Buchannan is a craft
beer rock
star,
recently hired by Brockton to drag the company into the 21st century. He brings
innovation and attitude plus a prima donna ladies man reputation. But he's sworn off anything
resembling commitment,
personal or
professional, after getting burned at his last job on
both fronts.
Garret Hunter is “The Perfect Man” -- handsome, successful,
stable, eager to settle down. Eli Buchannan... is not. Compelling,
smoking hot, creative and elusive, he represents everything Lori Brockton
should avoid. But just as she makes a difficult choice, a drastic
life-changing shift occurs, and nothing is ever the same again.
EXCERPT:
Lori wrestled open the back brewery
door, ears already ringing from the curses that echoed through the large,
brightly lit room. The brewery boys, and three second brewers stood in a line,
like they were in a marine barracks all looking as nervous as mice observed by
a very hungry cat.
“And who the fuck,” boomed a voice,
“might you be? No one told me there was a girl brewer in this place.”
As a reflex, Lori looked around,
seeking out the girl who’d pissed off the faceless angry voice that must belong
to Eli Buchanan their new master brewer. She’d been instrumental in convincing
her father to hire the guy. He was a brewing celebrity, a genius, temperamental
and prone to quit perfectly good breweries if the mood suited him. He was exactly what
Brockton needed. They had to to get past their staid, complacent attitude in a
rapidly changing craft beer environment.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. The one
who showed up fifteen minutes late for my morning staff meeting.” She flushed,
frowning at the line of men, many of whom had worked for her father for years
as they shuffled their feet and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Who the hell are you, and why are you on
my brewery floor?”
She cleared her throat, squared her
shoulders and channeled the anger building in her chest. “I’m Lori. Lori
Brockton. This is the first day of my brewery rotation.” She hated how thin her
voice sounded.
“Your brewery rotation eh?” She
stepped back at the vision that emerged from between towering stainless steel
fermentation vessels. “What is this?
Brewing Day Camp? I’m supposed to babysit the Brockton kids?” He glared at her,
making her blink in the glare of his bright, steely blue gaze. Eli Buchanan was
larger than life. At least six foot five, with long blonde hair held back by a
small piece of leather. Clad in light blue jeans and a Brockton Brewing grey t-shirt, the span of
his shoulders and definition of his torso forced an exhale from Lori’s lips. He
kept quiet as her eyes took him in, from rubber boot clad feet to the light red
hair covering his jaw. “Well? See anything you like?”
“Uh, no, I mean, it’s not camp. I
mean, you are…I’m…” she stuttered, then stopped. The man stood stock still,
glaring as if challenging her. She stood up straighter. “I’m here for the next
six months to learn this part of the business. You know, so I can be your boss
someday.” The man frowned at her. She frowned back.
Then he tilted his head back and
laughed, stepped into her personal space and smacked her ass so hard she
yelped. “I look forward to that day girl Brockton. Yes, I do.” A couple of the
men started forward as if to protect her but she waved them back. This asshole
had another thing coming if he thought she’d be intimidated by him. As much as
she might have been at one point, something about him was as non-threatening as
Garrett,
but in a different way—a much more spine-tingling way.
The following ten hours of back
breaking work nearly made her throw in the towel. But after an hour scraping
out the last of a twenty barrel’s worth of wet, heavy spent mash—the leftover
grains from a batch of beer made on their smaller system, she felt sore as hell,
but invigorated. The smells, sounds and sights of this place, the heartbeat of
the entire operation, the reason all three hundred of her father’s employees
came to work every day, this she loved.
“Brockton!” An angry voice behind her
made her jump and turn. Wet, sticky malt grains dripped from her face where
she’d accidentally splashed some onto herself as she cleaned out the large
vessel. She swiped at them, smearing even more of the mess across her cheeks.
Without warning, Eli wiped her face with a clean white towel, his touch
surprisingly tender, lingering longer than necessary. But his frown stayed
stuck in place. She stepped away from
him even though her body
reacted, compelling her to move closer.
“Some guy in a tie is looking for
you,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder but didn’t move. Lori had no
experience with hypnosis, but she’d swear at that moment he’d done it to her.
They locked eyes, then the sound of harder heeled shoes on the concrete floor
forced her look past him. Garrett’s bright smile was familiar, yet strange in
the highly charged environment.
“I’m actually here to see you, Eli.”
Garrett stuck out a hand and the other man looked at it, glancing over to Lori
then back over before gripping it without a smile. “Glad to have you on board.”
Eli took his hand back, and swiped at
it with the towel he’d used on her face. If he noticed the rude gesture,
Garrett didn’t indicate it in the slightest. Impressed, Lori moved a step
closer to him and glared at the tall, blonde man.
Eli shot her an unfathomable look, but spoke to
Garrett. “Sorry, but no suits in the brewery. Wouldn’t want to get you messy.”
He walked away, waving over his shoulder. “Glad to be on board, boss, thanks.”
The sarcasm dripped from his words like venom. Garrett turned to her, his
handsome face calm, as if the odd exchange with the rude employee had never
happened.
GIVEAWAY
Liz will be awarding a "swag pack" from her
brewery, the Wolverine State Brewing Co including 2 tee shirts, a pint glass, a
hat and a certificate for a free growler fill plus $15 Amazon GC to a randomly
drawn commenter during the tour.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Microbrewery owner,
best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and
soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major college town. Years of experience in sales and fund raising,
plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse, plus making her way in a
world of men (i.e. the beer industry), has prepped her for life as erotic
romance author.
When she isn't sweating inventory and sales figures for the
brewery, she can be found writing, editing or sweating promotional efforts for
her latest publications.
Her groundbreaking romance subgenre, “Romance for Real
Life,” has gained thousands of fans and followers who are interested less in
the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”)
Her beer blog a2beerwench.com is nationally recognized for
its insider yet outsider views on the craft beer industry. Her books are set in
the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch and in high-powered
real estate offices. Don’t ask her for
anything “like” a Budweiser or risk painful injury.
REVIEW LINKS
ARC reviews
for Paradise Hops:
