Wednesday, June 4, 2014


Hi everyone! *waves* I hope you all are well.

I'm writing this blog post today because Against All Odds has been out two months. 


And I want to share something with you to celebrate. As you know I'm in the midst of writing Grayson's book. I'm taking my time. I want to give you guys something good. I don't want to rush his story. In the meantime, here is a little scene I jotted out. This is how Kylie got her nickname - Sweet cheeks.  


I really want to say THANK YOU to those who took the time out to read my debut. You guys made me feel so loved. There are a ton of books out there and the idea that you took time to read mine means the world to me. 


Now for a little Grayson Walsh ❤

 Ang ❤ xoxo



“What are you doing?” I ask, walking into Kylie's kitchen.


I nod with a smile.

Her gaze shifts to the gigantic bowl in front of her, and a heavy blush stains her beautiful cheeks. “Umm... I'm eating ice cream.”

I lean against the wall, my brows raised. “That's a lot of ice cream for a little thing like yourself.”

Her eyes shuffle between mine and the bowl, and she lets out a small laugh. The sound’s like music to my ears. She never laughs or smiles anymore. Everything's been a struggle for her lately. Life keeps knocking her down, and she's barely getting back up.

“I can pack it in, little or not. I love sugar and sweet treats,” she says.

“What do you have in there?” I ask, curiosity in my voice as I move toward her.

Her cheeks turn pinker, the rosy color dancing down her porcelain skin. “Oh, just toppings and stuff.” Her eyes move to the hand holding her spoon.

I laugh. She's embarrassed. It's so fucking cute.

“What kinds of toppings, Ky?”

She bites her plump bottom lip. My body warms as I look at her, admiring just how beautiful she is.

“Hot fudge, nuts, and marshmallows. I added a couple M&Ms, some warm brownie bites, gummy bears, and topped it with whipped cream.”

By the time she's done listing what she's eating, her face is as red as a beet. My dick hardens when I think of that flush running down the length of her body.

“I just came up with a nickname for you,” I murmur. I’m captivated by this woman.

“For me?” Her nose scrunches as a small smile splashes across her mouth.

“Yeah,” I whisper, an unknown emotion clogging my throat.

Her breathing picks up. We just stare at each other, and I feel something very new tossing around inside me. Her face becomes unreadable, but I can tell she's affected by me in some way.

“What nickname?” she asks, a timid, husky sweep to her voice.

“Sweet cheeks.”

Her forehead pinches.

“Sweet, because you're filled with goodness—and apparently pure white sugar.” I smirk, making her cheeks redden some more. I’m entranced when she swallows, and a grin that’s so genuine and real spreads across her face, it stops my fucking heart. She's magnificent. “And Cheeks, because your cheeks turn this beautiful color when you're embarrassed. It's breathtaking.”

Her mouth drops into a beautiful O. My body twitches to grab her and bring her in close. It's unnerving. She’s Cooper's wife, but damn, she's stunning. What the fuck is happening to me?

She glances at the bowl in front of her, lets out a long breath, and looks back at me with unease in her eyes. My gut clenches.

I hate that look.

I clear my throat, desperate to soothe the flicker of apprehension now bathing her features. “Is there any left for me?”

“But you don't eat ice cream,” she says, confusion in her tone.

I nod with a teasing grin, trying to bring that smile back to her face. “True, but I did a double workout today. I can fit in a little sugary goodness for my sweet cheeks.”

She giggles and moves a piece of hair from in front of her eyes to behind her ear. “Okay, grab a spoon, and you can help eat mine. I guess it is a lot of ice cream for one person.”

I chuckle. Fuck... she's the sweetest thing.

Definitely my sweet cheeks.

I nestle close to her and grab a spoon, ready to eat something I know I'll pay for in the gym tomorrow. But if it brings a smile or a laugh to this intoxicating woman, then bring on the shitty food. I’d do anything for her. 

All rights reserved. Against All Odds © 2014 Copyright, Angie McKeon.

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