About The Big Bad Wolf:
Kensey Deaton comes from an elite werewolf lineage, but just because her family is royalty, doesn’t mean she’ll fall in line like some perfect little princess. She has plans and they don’t include an arranged marriage!
Slade McAlister has his own family drama. His Alpha father happens to be the most reviled wolf on the eastern seaboard, and it’s a stigma he can’t escape. So when his neighbor Kensey–the girl of his dreams and his nightmares–proposes a solution to solve *both* of their problems, he sees an opportunity he can’t ignore.
Kensey and Slade aren’t only from opposite sides of the tracks, they’re from opposite sides of the war. But if they can sell their ‘relationship’, they might just make it out of this with their freedom.
You know, as long as all that fake PDA doesn’t turn into more…
About Jus Accardo:
JUS ACCARDO spent her childhood reading and learning to cook. Determined to follow in her grandfather’s footsteps as a chef, she applied and was accepted to the Culinary Institute of America. At the last minute, she realized her true path lay with fiction, not food. A native New Yorker, she lives in the middle of nowhere with her husband, three dogs, and twelve angry chickens.
Author Website: http://www.jusaccardo.com
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Blog Tour Giveaway Widget:
Star Rating: 3.5
I like Jus Accardo’s writing, and so I joined this blog tour. I’m also a sucker for enemies-to-lovers and fake dating tropes.
This book feels a little like a fan fiction or Lifetime movie – its a short, cheesy guilty pleasure sort of read.
There are parts that feel like an adult trying too hard to sound like a teenager, and it was a little strong on the stereotypes but not necessarily in a bad way.
I overall thought it was a cute, fast read. If you like cheesy romance or paranormal romance you’ll probably like this.
Excerpt from The Big Bad Wolf:
He took a sip of water and nodded. He eyed the new plate as the girl set it down in front of him. “Raw fish? You’re buying me a burger as soon as we’re done here.”
“It’s Japanese,” I whispered. “Odori don. When you pour—”
The maid leaned across him and poured soy sauce over his plate. The squid in the center twitched once, then started to squirm with spastic enthusiasm.
“What the—” Slade flinched and jumped back, falling out of his chair and taking the maid—and the soy sauce—with him. She let out a squeak as the gravy bowl flew from her hands and hit the wall behind us. The ceramic shattered, splintering into a thousand tiny pieces as salty brown liquid splattered in all directions.
I managed to extract myself from my chair as Slade was helping the maid to her feet. Once she was up, she scurried into the kitchen, mumbling something about towels, and he turned back to the table. “My apologies,” he said with a bow toward our out of town guests. “I wasn’t expecting my dinner to dance.”
My father stood, the look on his face anything but forgiving, but I didn’t stick around. I grabbed Slade by the wrist and led him up the stairs to my bathroom to clean up.
“Haven’t been in here in years,” he said as we passed through my room. “Your décor hasn’t gotten any better.”
I rolled my eyes and shoved him through the bathroom door. Once inside, I clasped his shoulder and pushed him on to the edge of the tub. “Neither have your manners.”
“How was I supposed to know the damn thing was still alive?”
“It wasn’t.” I ran a towel under the water, then rang it out. “It was dead.”
“Beg to differ. It moved. It fucking started moshing on my plate.”
I knelt in front of him then paused. This wasn’t going to work while he was still wearing the shirt. “It was the salt in the soy sauce. The muscles in the squid were reacting to it. Take your shirt off.”
He waggled his brows. “Finally.”
I sighed and grabbed the back of his collar then gave a hard yank. The material caught on his chin for a second before coming over his head. “Says the guy who insisted I was a horrible kisser.”
He snorted. “That was years ago.Like I said, you’ve gotten a little bit better.”
He leaned back and I didn’t miss the way he flexed, the hard planes of his chest moving in an almost mesmerizing way. I also didn’t—couldn’t—miss the scattered assortment of marks and scars.
“They’re not pretty, are they?” His voice was low calm, but the look in his eyes was anything but.
“Gavin?” The scars were a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors, and left very little skin unmarred.
“For the most part.” He shifted, almost like he was uncomfortable with my scrutiny.
I cleared my throat and turned away. “Ya know, scars are a sign of honor in the wolf community.”
“Yeah?” There was a twinge of amusement in his voice and I was glad. “Then pick one. I’ll let you honor it with a kiss.”
Monday, March 5th: