OMG Sarina and Tanya deliver another hilarious five-star rom-com! Man Card features sassy, sexy Ash and hilariously metrosexual Braht as our hero and heroine. The two have spent months as “frenemies”; there’s chemistry (and one sexy time in a pantry!) between them but for some reason the attraction leads to an all out turf war as the two realtors love to one up one another. And of course one-upsmanship leads to some hysterical moments for them!
Ash seems to have the old playground adage of “I-push-you-cause-I-like-you” mentality towards Braht because she’s picked the WRONG type of man before and Braht can’t be as perfect as he seems. Braht on the other hand finds Ash’s cockiness and taunts as flirtatious advances and he has no shame in admitting his attraction to Ash. In what may seem as a handover of his MAN CARD, Braht actually has his fully in grasp (HAH pun!) since he shows no fear when it comes to telling Ash what he wants from her. That is until their stolen moments and heated arguments turn into a nightmare from the past!
Ash has a ghost from her past forcing her right in to Braht’s arms, but now he fears that her past may collide with his into something she can never forgive. Now Braht has to tread lightly to save the woman he just might be falling in love with. But how to do that when the stubborn gal won’t admit that she’s in love with him back? Filled with riotous wit and endearingly flubbed sexy-times, Man Card easily slips into a five-star read status. Now….what will we do with our sweet little Sadie?
Nothing ventured, nothing banged…
Braht
There are two things I know without question. One: Ash and I are destined for each other. Two: never trust a man with a unibrow.
“Name your other favorite movies,” I challenge Braht.
“All of them?” He chugs his margarita.
“Hmm. Top ten? Top five?”
“That’s totally easy,” he says. Somehow I’ve gotten closer to him on the floor. When he sits back, I actually snuggle in beside him. He’s wearing a ridiculously soft shirt that feels good against my skin. And I watch with fascination as he ticks off the names of films on his fingers. “When Harry Met Sally. The Devil Wears Prada. Roman Holiday. Clueless. And Working Girl.”
I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. “Those are all chick flicks. You should just hand over your man card right now.”
“Not a chance.” Braht’s expression grows intense. “In the first place, I gave you a very thorough demonstration of my man card last week. I don’t remember hearing any complaints.”
I swallow hard, because this is certainly true.
“And secondly, you’re looking at this all backward.”
“I…am?” And why can’t I look away? He has the most beautiful, intelligent eyes.
“Yeah, you are,” he whispers. “It’s the guy who has a firm grip on his man card that can hold your purse. He’s not afraid to be seen with that Tory Burch you like to carry—nice color, by the way. He’ll free up your hands because he likes your hands, and he remembers all the terrific things you can use them for.”
“Oh,” I say slowly. Now my fingers itch to reach out for him. I have to make fists with both hands so I won’t do it.
“Furthermore, he’s not afraid to quote Working Girl. Because Joan Cusack is a genius. And who wouldn’t want to say Melanie Griffith’s best line out loud?”
I can’t help saying it with him, and together we sound like the world’s horniest Greek chorus: “I have a head for business and a body for sin.”
Sin sounds pretty good right now, actually. But Braht’s not done with his speech. “Any man who tells you that chick flicks are for pussies can’t be any good in bed. Because that man does not speak the language of women. He doesn’t know that a little luxury can erase a shitty day of worrying about your ex…”
Braht takes my hand in his and begins to massage it. He has a great technique, applying gentle pressure between each joint. I relax just a little bit more against him.
“…That man doesn’t speak the language because he’s afraid of sounding like a girl. But fuck that noise, honey bear. If a man doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe a satin teddy with peekaboo lace and mother-of-pearl snaps at the crotch, he can’t buy it for you and then strategically ask you to wear it. He can’t plan ahead to blow your mind sometime by lifting your skirt somewhere semi-public and dangerous. And he can’t get down on his knees and kiss that lace and then pop open those snaps while you bite your own hand to keep from screaming when you climax.” Braht takes a deep breath and lets it out in one hot gust. “Fuck. What was the point of this speech?”
“Um…” My voice is hoarse, and my face is suddenly very hot. Let’s not even mention my nipples. “Man cards, I think.” But I’m not sure, because everything tingles.
“Right,” he says with a sigh. “Still got mine. Shall we watch Working Girl next?”
“Okay,” I breathe, sinking a little further into his comforting embrace.
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Sarina Bowen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She lives in Vermont’s Green Mountains with her family, six chickens and too much ski gear and hockey equipment.
In 2016, Sarina became a Rita Award winner! The Romance Writers of America honored HIM by Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy with Best Contemporary Romance, Mid-Length.
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Tanya is a member of SAG/AFTRA. She is a narrator and has over 500 titles to her credit. She also narrates under the name of Tatiana Sokolov for books that are particularly saucy (AKA erotica books). When not narrating, she’s working on her own writing. Check out her books: Easy Does It, Blunder Woman, Pepper Wellington and the Case of the Missing Sausage, Foodies Rush In, Tunnel Vision, and Synchronicity. She also has a food blog at dips.tanyaeby.com.
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