Both books have newly written material that have moved them from YA to mature YA/NA. They are sexier and better.
Shallow Teaser : Nick Hawke’s POV
I walk by doll face on the way and I can’t resist speaking to her so I can look into her honey eyes again. “I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I’m Nick Hawke but all of my friends call me Hawke.” She doesn’t say anything. “This is the part where you tell me your name.”
She doesn’t look at all happy with me. “Payton Archer.”
I repeat her name in my head. “Well, Payton Archer, it’s almost time for the race. How do you feel about a good-luck kiss?”
She grins. “I think a good-luck kiss is an excellent idea.”
Wow. That was easy, and unexpected––and then I figure out why. She goes over to my opponent and taps him on the shoulder. He turns around and she puts her arms up over his shoulders. She kisses him long and hard, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers and catcalls.
She finishes and turns back to me. “It was only fair for Dane to get a good-luck kiss since you got a good-luck hump on the hood of your car.”
This girl is unbelievable, like nothing I’ve ever come across.
I stand motionless, watching her strut to the roadside in her short skirt and jacked-up heels. One thing is certain: winning this race has nothing to do with the money anymore. I have to win so I can have my night with her.
Going Under Teaser: Claire Deveraux’s POV
I’ve stolen glances at him during cheerleading practice over the last two weeks when I was certain Forbes wasn’t watching me. I’ve never clearly seen his face, not even the day Forbes talked shit to him about this truck, so he’s been a mystery in my mind.
His helmet and face mask no longer obstruct my view and I now see the proof that he is so much more handsome than I originally guessed. His hair is darker than I thought and spiky on top. His pale blue stare is piercing, his eyes breathtaking, and I have to force myself to not become lost in them.
“Pardon me, princess. I didn’t mean to block your way.” His voice is velvety smooth, but I don’t mistake its coolness. It clearly conveys the contempt he feels for me and that immediately raises my hellcat flag. This guy does not know me and therefore has nothing to base his aversion on.
He’s judging me––and making assumptions––just like everyone else in my life.
I’m immediately angry with him for making presumptions about who I am, but I’m far more furious with myself for finding him so captivating. I taste the bitter reaction on my tongue as it manifests in the form of a verbal insult. “Asshole.”
He laughs and places his hand over the left side of his chest. “I felt that like a blade straight to my heart.”
I’m pissed and the bastard is enjoying it.
I push past him. “Screw you. And my name is not ‘princess.’ It’s Claire. If you’re going to insult me, at least have the decency to get my name right.”
“I think I’ll stick with princess. It suits you better,” I hear him call behind me, laughing.