Here at Mocha Memoirs Press, we aim to provide quality stories. One of our series we enjoy the most is our Beauty & the Geek series. The first one, Beauty & the Geek: I Heart Geeks by Janet Eckford, is a sweet, but incrediblely hot story. Now, added with RaeLynn Blue's sizzling Rocket to Love, this is one series that keeps aiming for the moon and landing in the stars!
--Nicole Kurtz
Owner
Title: Beauty & the Geek: Rocket to Love
Author: RaeLynn Blue
Publisher: Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC
Purchase Link: http://stores.lulu.com/mochamemoirspress
Genre: Contemporary Interracial Erotic Romance
ISBN: 978-0-9831934-8-7
Price: 3.99
Blurb: While recreational shopping, Jewel Isles and her friends discover all kinds of deals and steals at the Atlanta Shoe and Purse Expo. While relaxing in the restaurant of a neighboring hotel, Jewel heads to the ladies room, but nearly trips over a geeky, but surprisingly handsome man.
Ben Wook Sun, NASA scientist and Star Trek® lover, didn’t understand why beautiful women like Jewel Isles insisted on dating men who lacked intellectual depth. Adjusting his black-rimmed glasses, Ben made the conscious decision to convince Jewel that he was the best for her—period. It didn’t take a muscle-bound brute to scoop her up and whisk her away. He was more than capable.
But first, he had to get her to go out on a date with him. Astrophysics, this wasn’t.
Excerpt
“Good one, Anderson!” Ben shouted back and rolled his eyes. He tapped the rim of his shot glass. “One more, please.”
The bartender nodded. He refilled Ben’s tequila and sloshed it a bit.
“Hey!” shouted Race, his fellow scientist.
The bartender, a big beefy man with a lot of facial hair growled at Race. “Shut that hole, nerd.”
“Yeah, well, your momma!” Race shouted back.
“Race!” Ben snatched the wiry scientist by the collar and out of the bartender’s face. He said to the hunk of ancient human DNA serving drinks. “Ignore him. He’s had a lot to drink.”
“I could’ve handled it,” slurred Race, hiccuping to punctuate the sentence. Unfocused eyes roamed all over the place.
“I think you need to be cut off. You’ve had way too much,” Ben said.
“Whoa!” Race ignored Ben’s advice and fell to the floor, banging into a few of the other scientists. They yelled at him, but quickly went back to chatting about whatever suited their fancies. Race clamored, clumsily rising to a standing position.
With eyes wide, Race said to Ben. “Did you see them?”
Ben followed Race’s blatant stare to a trio of women who strolled into the restaurant. The scent of floral and expensive perfumes still lingered on the otherwise stale air. Sun-kissed skin, strappy sandals, and long cinnamon-toned legs dressed in brightly colored sundresses. Goodness, he loved summer. Oversized sunglasses pushed into shiny, full hair completed what Ben could only describe as beauty dipped in sunlight.
No wonder Race fell over.
“I do now,” Ben said and reached over to close Race’s gaping mouth. “Good call.”
“Damn. That’s one hot rocket, huh? I’d like to launch her blasters,” Race commented.
“Which one?”
“The one in blue,” Race said.
“Yeah.”
“Wookie, those women are gorgeous, like that Beyoncé. African-American women are so gorgeous. Stunning. The one in the pretty blue, she could launch my rocket.”
“Kill the rocket jokes,” Ben said, hearing Race’s slur on the s.
Ben saw her. The average pronoun couldn’t even begin to convey the extraordinary woman in red. He wiped his hands across his khakis. Red had been a good choice because she was a firecracker. Cinnamon brushed legs went on forever. Ben’s heart actually skipped a beat. Then another. Could be the tequila.
The woman’s ka-pow landed a huge wallop on him.
“Wow,” Race said again.
“Those kinds of women are all about money,” Ben countered.
Race shrugged. “We got money, well, except for Thomas, but his ex-wife took half.”
Ben tossed back the dark amber liquid. The shock of the burn acted like lightning. More awake, he tried to blink back the weary vision. No doubt. He’d had way too much to drink. Probably shouldn’t have started with beer. No. He should’ve stuck to beer.
“Yeah, we have money, but women like them don’t date guys like us.”
“We’re not some other species, though that didn’t hurt Captain Kirk’s chances at all,” Race countered.
Ben nodded.
He could do complex equations in his head, but he’d never understand why woman wanted dumb mates. All brawn, but no brains. Ben shook his head.
“Brad Pitt we aren’t, Race.”
Race’s expression fell. “Yeah.”
Their moods sobered, Ben pushed back from the bar, rotating the stool around and putting his back to the bartender.
“Look, I’m going to hit the sack. I’ve got that panel at 8 a.m. on Astrodynamics.”
Race’s unfocused eyes met his, but then slid back to the women sitting in a booth. Only the tops of their heads could be seen from his position now, but one of the women, dressed in a scarlet red dress, held his attention. Even if the only thing he could see was the top of her curly ponytail.
“Yeah, sure? I’m on the same one, so call me to wake me up,” Race said, or that’s what Ben thought he said. “Will you, Wookie?”
“I’m not your mother. Get a wakeup call.”
With that, Ben clapped Race on the shoulder, threw a fifty on the bar, nodded to the bartender to keep the change, and headed out of the restaurant and out of the thundering noise of the television, the shrieks of drunken laughter, and the roars of multiple conversations. The world spun sluggishly. Steadying himself by using the wooden stools and his co-workers’ shoulders, Ben made his way toward the exit. Race had been pulled into the circle of remaining associates at the bar. Ben heard him lamenting the loss of an old computer, a Commodore 64, his mom threw out two decades ago. Frowning at the lot of them, Ben realized no one would be at his panel. They’d all be hung over.
He smirked.
That was if he made it.
Most of his coworkers could talk about any aspects of rocket science in their sleep. World experts, most of his friends had a life of lecture, academia, and books. Few married. When they did, Thomas happened. A woman would divorce him because she couldn’t compete with being married to one of the world’s smartest men. At 36, Ben had a lot of life left. Sure, not all the scientists were male. Quite a few of the most brilliant minds on the planet were women. So, he had his flings, but those faded fast, dissolved by the acidic strength of competition. He didn’t date other scientists any more.
“Hey, Wookie!” Race shouted.
Ben turned and the step that should’ve been there suddenly wasn’t, and he fell. His glasses clattered against the tile and out of reach. Everything blurred without his glasses and all he could make out of the fuzzy blobs were shades of scarlet and nutmeg.
Then, a heavenly voice, tinted with a sexy husk, asked, “Did that guy just call you a wookiee?”
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