Hell’s Kitchen has nothing on the flames Giancarlo and Garrett ignite at Restaurant Ransom…
Garrett Ransom is America’s hot chef du jour. He has a Michelin-starred restaurant in New York City, a hit reality TV show, and a new man in his bed every week. Yes, he secretly thinks his business partner, Giancarlo “Carlo” Rotolo, is hotter than a ghost pepper, but he would never jeopardize their friendship with a fling. Then Garrett overhears some juicy gossip among the crew and realizes he’ll have to break Giancarlo’s cardinal rule, no banging the staff – for Carlo’s own good, of course. Just a taste of Carlo should be plenty. Long-term relationships aren’t on Garrett’s menu.
Giancarlo’s been in love with Garrett forever. He’s sure Garrett will eventually realize they are destined to be more than business partners. But when Garrett installs his latest boyfriend as their new chef d’cuisine and announces plans to leave Carlo in New York while he opens a second restaurant on the west coast, Carlo is forced to re-evaluate his life.
Can a high-strung British chef and a nice Italian boy from Brooklyn find the perfect fusion of fine-dining and family-style?
I really enjoyed this book. Garrett was so clueless of Carlo’s feelings. Carlo was so patient dealing with Garrett’s commitment issues. I loved how they each had their own cooking style. It showed a bit about their personalities. There were times when I truly didn’t know if they’d make it. I hurt for Carlo when he kept getting pushed aside. The ending was wonderful. Perfect for Carlo and Garrett and how their relationship works. The side characters were fun and brought the story to life.
Four and a half
Molly: What music, if any do you listen to when you write?
Irene: My preference is usually none; it tends to affect my mood and the scene too much. That being said, if I’m writing where there is a lot of external distraction, I’ll put the headphones on sometime. I’ll surf until I find something that “feels” right. It doesn’t necessarily need to be lyrics that go with what I’m writing.
Molly: Are you a full time writer, or part time writer?
Irene: Part time.
Molly: Do you hope to one day be a full time writer?
Irene: That’s a tougher question than you might think. I suppose the answer is yes, but my husband and I run two small businesses, so it’s difficult for me to picture life without them. I suppose I could say I’d like to devote more of my time to writing.
Molly: Do you have a word count per day you try to hit?
Irene: It varies. 500 when I’m starting out and getting the feel for a story. 1000+ when I’m in the thick of it. As much as I can push out when I’m under deadline. I’m a horrible procrastinator.
Molly: When you finish writing a book, how long before you begin writing the next one?
Irene: I’ll have something in mind before I finish what I’m working on. When I start writing depends on the rest of my schedule. I’d like to say I start right away, but the truth is I have a couple of months out of the year when other commitments take over. I don’t write at all then.
Screw “not too eager.” His legs must have moved, but Giancarlo couldn’t have said how he got from Point A to Point B. He knew only that Garrett was home, and they were together again. They were doing their usual greeting, a mash-up of a bro-hug and a more European double-cheek air kiss. And how had two gay men come up with something so awkward?
Or maybe it wasn’t awkward to anyone but Carlo because he didn’t want the bro-hug or “air kisses.” He wanted to sweep Garrett into his arms and soul kiss him until they were both dizzy and panting. He wanted the real damn thing.
Instead, he held himself awkwardly rigid while he leaned in to welcome his best friend home—upper half only on the hug so an indiscrete brush of thigh wouldn’t reveal exactly how happy he was to see his business partner. He inhaled carefully on the second kiss, and his knees nearly buckled. Garrett was the only chef he knew who never seemed to smell like his kitchen. No fish. No beef. No spices. Never in a million years the fry station. Garrett smelled sweet—warm cookies, vanilla, and sugar—like he should have been the pastry chef instead of Grace. The aroma always blindsided Giancarlo. Garrett wasn’t known for sweet. The scent was a secret thing. The Garrett no one knew but him.
Want more? Read the full first chapter on IrenePreston.com
Irene Preston has to write romances-after all, she’s living one! As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.
Irene loves to socialize. Stop by and say hello at any of her sites!
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