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Read an exclusive excerpt from One Mad Night by Julia London

Two Romantic Adventures...One Mad Night

Two delightful contemporary romance novellas in one book from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia London. 

One winter’s night a blizzard sweeps across the country, demonstrating that fate can change the course of lives in an instant…and fate has got a sense of humor.

One Mad Night

Chelsea Crawford and Ian Rafferty are high profile ad execs in cutthroat competition for a client. When a major winter storm puts New York City on lockdown, the two rivals have to make it through the night together—oh, the many ways in which opposites attract...

The Bridesmaid - Bonus Novella

RITA Award Nominee for Best Romance Novella of 2013
Kate Preston has just moved to New York. Joe Firretti is contemplating a move to Seattle. When the weather wreaks havoc with transportation systems, Kate and Joe meet as they are both trying to rent the last car available… As Kate races to make her best friend’s wedding, and Joe races to a life-altering job interview, it looks like together is the only way they’ll make it at all.

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Praise for Julia London

"London knows how to keep pages turning...winningly fresh and funny." —Publishers Weekly, on RITA Award nominee The Bridesmaid

About the Author

Julia London is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than thirty novels, including the Homecoming Ranch contemporary series, the Secrets of Hadley Green historical romance series, and numerous other works. She is a four-time finalist for the prestigious RITA Award for excellence in romantic fiction, and RT Bookclub award recipient for Best Historical Romance.  She lives in Austin, Texas.

Connect with Julia London via: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

EXCLUSIVE Excerpt from One Mad Night by Julia London

She touched her finger to his lips. “Are we flirting?” she asked.

“Are we?”

“I think so. In the interest of fair play, I think you should know that I will take any advantage of anything I can tomorrow. I really, really hate to lose.”

“I’ve noticed. You must believe I have a soft spot to tell me that,” Ian said, and he touched his lips to hers. “But I don’t. I hate losing too. But I’ve been strangely attracted to you since the moment I met you. I took one look in your cubicle, with all the papers stacked just so and the pictures of your family tacked to the walls, and I thought, here is a woman who cares about what she’s doing. I can get into that.” He kissed her again, light and easy, a prelude to what he really wanted, to the craving beating in his chest and pounding in his veins.

“You looked at my cube?” she asked with a smile of delight.

“I looked at your cube, I looked at your body, and I looked at your hair…” He pushed her hair back and nibbled her earlobe. “I even smelled you.”

“Weird,” she said. But she did not sound put off by it.

Ian found her waist with his hand and began to slowly slide it up her rib cage. “And you know those shoes you were wearing in the conference room today? I definitely noticed your legs in those shoes.”

“I am so onto you, Ian,” she said, and she touched two fingers to his mouth. “You must believe that I have a soft spot. I don’t.”

“Then I guess that makes us perfect for each other, doesn’t it?” he said as his hand slid up and cupped her breast. “Maybe, on this little snow island of ours, we can put aside our jobs and our competition and just, you know…enjoy the moment.”

She drew a slow, unsteady breath. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

He thought it was perhaps the best idea he’d ever had. He’d thought his brilliance was in advertising, but this was his brilliance. He was melting inside, his body responding to the feel of her, to her scent, her sparkly green eyes, and her smile. “I think we’d be idiots if we didn’t,” he said, and he meant it sincerely. He couldn’t remember feeling this sort of sizzle in a very long time. He caught her chin in his hand, turned her face to his, and kissed her. He kissed her fully this time, and it sent a shock wave through him, pouring through every vein, every muscle.

Chelsea grabbed the collar of his shirt and held on, responding in kind, flicking her tongue against his.
If he’d known Chelsea Crawford could kiss like this, he wouldn’t have screwed around—-it was electric, pulse pounding. Ian was suddenly working on overdrive, an engine revved up too fast. He slid off the conference table, put his arm around her, and pulled her to him, sliding in between her legs. His body had sprung to attention, ready and waiting for whatever Chelsea would allow.

Ian was hopeful on that front, as Chelsea made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded very much like desire to him. All the male in him was rejoicing in the teamwork here, how two people could come together and make something utterly fantastic happen, without any pretense of dates and late--night phone calls. It was meant to be, as if they’d been caught in this storm for this reason, and Ian thought he’d never been so excited in his whole freaking life. He completely forgot that he expressly didn’t want to do this, that he felt guilty and sort of gross knowing what he knew, and that he never liked to get involved, especially at work.
He forgot all that because Chelsea felt and tasted so damn good, and she was different in that she didn’t really even like him. That made her special, that made her incredibly desirable, and this was going to be one of the best nights of his life—-

Until Chelsea suddenly slid off the table and out from underneath his touch.

“No, no, no,” he said, sensing doom, and he tried to draw her back. But Chelsea moved beyond his reach. “Come on, Chelsea,” he said, aware that he sounded a little whiny. “Don’t go. If you don’t want to do this,” he said, forcing himself to say those words, because how could she not, “that’s cool. But don’t be offended. Don’t go. Let’s just…let’s just have another drink and watch the snow.”

“I’m not offended,” she said. “But I’m not an idiot, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he said with a wince.

She flounced around and started for the door.

“Come on. Where are you going?” he called after her.

“For a walk!” she said, and she went right out of the conference room.

Ian groaned with physical frustration and slammed his fist down on the conference table. He instantly grimaced at the pain that caused him, stretching his fingers wide, fearing he’d broken a bone.

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