Publication date: June 4th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Falling for your best friend couldn’t get any sweeter.
Tall, handsome, and eternally optimistic Noah has dated a string of gorgeous women. His best friend Elle has outlasted them all. Of course, he has no idea she’s been in love with him for years. Why would he? It’s not like she’s going to tell him. After all, she’s short and awkward, and as he’s fond of reminding her, has a sour disposition.
When Elle takes off on her annual ten-day vacation with her family, Noah comes to a startling realization. She’s the woman who is by his side day in and day out, whose office is across the hall, and whose house is around the corner. She has called him on his shit when he gets too cocky, and he has held her in her arms when her heart was broken. Absence must make the heart grow fonder because while she’s in Germany with her parents, he realizes that everything he has ever wanted was right there all along. Now he’s on a mission to make her realize that romance won’t ruin their friendship, but platonic friendship is ruining their relationship.
This funny, sexy, slow-burn romance will have you laughing, cheering, and rooting for adorable Elle and hot, swoon-worthy Noah. Full of heart, laughs, and plenty of heat, if you like feisty heroines, hot, yummy heroes, or sweet and sour treats, you’ll love following Elle and Noah’s will they-won’t they road to romance.
Sour is a funny, sexy, standalone romance from Jennifer Woodhull, author of The Dating Alternative.
Chapter 1: Elle
I walk down the hall, and turn the corner into my room to find, to my shock and dismay, a wall of dripping wet muscle standing at the foot of my bed, toweling himself off.
I gasp, clutching my palm to the bare spot on my chest between the cups of my bra—thankfully, a t-shirt model that offers at least a little coverage. Hearing me, he turns, holding the towel just so that the most critical information is unavailable.
“Hey, you’re home!”
Noah takes three long strides toward me and leans forward to hug me. I put my palm out and it lands firmly in the middle of his perfect, muscular chest.
“You’re naked! You can’t hug me naked! It’s weird!” I exclaim.
“You’re naked too!” He argues, wrapping the towel around his waist and folding it into a not-very-secure-looking knot at the side.
I silently will the knot to fail and expose the only bit of Noah Adler that I’ve never seen, but sadly I still have not developed telekinetic powers, so nothing happens.
“There, better?” He asks, palms up.
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer and instead wraps thick, muscular forearms and defined biceps around me as he pulls me into his sculpted torso.
“I missed you!” He says, laying his cheek against the top of my head.
I wrap my arms around his midsection and look up as I give him a squeeze, carefully jutting my ass out so my belly doesn’t make contact with what I imagine is a sizable and delicious member beneath the towel he’s barely wearing.
“I missed you too. You should’ve come with us,” I say, closing my eyes as I do a happy dance on the inside because he came to see me after all.
“I’m not a Bailey. No Bailey family adventures for me,” he laughs. “But I am going to need you to tell me every detail, Ariel.”
I squirm away from him. “Well, that didn’t take long. I’m over missing you now.”
Jennifer Woodhull is based in the Southern United States, spending time in her second home of England, and traveling as often as she can. Her love of travel permeates her work, and her characters often find themselves exploring new and foreign surroundings.
A keen observer of human behavior, Jennifer often draws inspiration from something as simple as a fleeting connection, or the glimpse of a unique trait or characteristic. Her favorite place to write is on airplanes.
“The drone of the engine, the scores of people, all traveling to something or from something, and being disconnected from digital distractions are a combination that provide the perfect place to write,” she says. “If you see a woman in seat 9F who is balancing her Macbook on her lap because it’s time to close your tray table, please have patience. I’m just trying to finish one more sentence.”