Knocked Up by Stacey Lynn…Release Day Blitz

First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes baby in a baby carriage. Just not necessarily in that order . . .

 
Braxton: I should probably be dead or in jail right now. Instead, thanks to some tough love, I worked my ass off and now I own a string of tattoo parlors throughout the Pacific Northwest. And yet the one thing I’ve always wanted—a family—still seems out of reach. When my best friend gets married, I’m just hoping to blow off some steam with the super-hot maid of honor. But after Cara Thompson tracks me down to tell me she’s pregnant, she’s more surprised than I am when I tell her I’m all in.
 
Cara: For the first time in my life, I’m living for myself—not for my parents and their ridiculous expectations. I gave up on my MBA, dropped out of the Ivy League, and moved to Portland to pursue my dream of becoming an artist. And what’s the first thing I do? Get knocked up. For a tatted-up sex god, Braxton Henley seems way too eager to “be there for me.” Is this guy serious? Maybe. He sure is patient. Because he won’t back down until I admit what I know in my heart: that our one night stand might’ve led me to the one.

 

 

Stacey Lynn is a simple girl raised in the Midwest. Over the long, frigid winters, she would read every book she could get her hands on, from John Grisham and Danielle Steel to Ann M. Martin and C. S. Lewis. She began writing poems and short stories long before she reached high school, and now, as a wife and mother to four children, she finds solace from the craziness of her life by creating steamy, sexy stories. After publishing her first book, what began as a hobby has now turned into an unending passion.

 Excerpt

She pulls the internal monitor out of the drawer, along with a bottle of lubricant and a condom, and Braxton’s grip on my hand turns almost bone-crushing.

“Is that—”

“Yup.” I cut him off.

“Um.”

“Now you see why I wanted the external one,” I mutter quietly.

I can’t look at him. My cheeks are on fire, and for some absolutely insane reason, other parts of my body are warming and this should not be happening at my midwife’s office.

“So,” Pam says, turning around and back to business. Except it’s hard to take her seriously as she waves what looks like a massive vibrator in her hand. “We’re going to insert this inside of you.”

“Holy shit,” Braxton mutters. And God, kill me. Please kill me now.

If Pam hears him, she ignores him as she steps toward me, and pulls out a set of stirrups from beneath the table. “I’m going to need you to lie down, Cara, and spread your legs, and slip down to the edge of the bed for me.”

“I feel like I’ve heard this before,” I say, unable to stop myself. My filter has evaporated along with my self-respect and all of this is so absolutely humiliating.

Pam pauses, glances at me and then at Braxton and nods, understanding. But I swear, as her gaze sweeps down Braxton’s arms, even she blushes. Which is great . . . my midwife thinks my non-boyfriend baby daddy is hot.

“I feel like I’ve said this before,” Braxton says, and both of our eyes whip to him. My gracious. He’s smiling, shoulders shaking like he’s holding back the world’s most boisterous laugh, and it’s all I can do to not kill him while he’s standing there, glancing between the monitor-slash-vibrator and my spread legs and I can’t hold it in anymore.

“This is embarrassing.”

Pam is back to business, already spreading the condom over the phallic-shaped instrument, and then she drizzles on the lubricant.

Braxton’s breath brushes over my cheeks. His dark locks tickle my temple as he whispers, “I feel like I should be offering to help with this.”

“Shut up,” I grit, my stomach muscles clenching from trying not to die or laugh. “This isn’t funny.”

“Oh. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, I’m not going to lie.”

My fingers squeeze his hand and Pam is in front of me. She holds a small black box in her other hand and the tip of the wand against my center. “I’ll go slow, and it might be cold, okay?”

“Yup.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Braxton whispers. “I don’t know whether to be terrified or turned on right now, Cara.”

“Shut up,” I all but growl at him but then the monitor is inside me.

Based on Pam’s pressed-together, smiling lips, she’s pretending to pay us absolutely no attention as her gaze is fixed on the device in her hand and she clicks a button and . . .

Tha-thump thump thump tha-thump thump thump.

My vision goes blurry immediately as soon as I hear the comforting, whispered trampling. It sounds like horses racing inside my abdomen and Braxton’s hand grips mine so tightly my fingers might break.

“There’s that healthy baby.” Pam smiles at me, softly and kindly and genuinely. This is why I absolutely adore her.

I desperately needed this reassurance.

“Is that it?” Braxton asks.

I nod, my head moving rapidly, and I turn to him, compelled to see him, and when I do, my own heart rate kicks into high gear. “It’s the baby.”

“My God.” His eyes are wide and he swipes his hair off his forehead, staring at the monitor and my covered stomach area and back to me and I’m a trembling shaking mess as I see tears fill his own eyes and there’s nothing we can say. Nothing we can say to each other because this sound . . . this glorious whooshing, galloping sound is the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in my entire life.

“We made a baby.” A tear falls down Braxton’s cheek and he leans down, brushing his lips over my cheek, and his voice is so gruff, so broken and beautiful.

About the Author

Stacey Lynn

Stacey Lynn is the author of more than two dozen romance and erotic romance novels. Most of which have been best sellers on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iBooks!

Her latest release, Fake Wife, is available on all retailers and getting excellent reviews! http://bit.ly/2EuWcje

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