Book Spotlight: Nothing But Wild by P. Dangelico

Nothing But Wild
(Malibu University #2)
by P. Dangelico
Date Release: December 15, 2019

About Nothing But Wild
Dallas Van Zant.
Water polo god.
Shameless flirt.
Beautiful disaster in the most literal sense of that label. 

Trust me, it’s not hyperbole. He’s in big trouble with the law.

What does this have to do with me, you ask? Unfortunately, a lot. For some reason, which I still can’t quite wrap my brain around, I’ve been talked into driving him around as part of his plea deal.

Problem is, he makes me nervous. I’m not good with people, men in particular, popular athletes especially. I’ve worked really hard to get my disability under control and one minute in his company and all my hard work flies out the window.

To top it all off, I promised myself that I was going to make some serious changes this year. I’m tired of feeling awkward around boys. I’m tired of never having had a boyfriend. I’m tired of being lonely. And he’s wrecking my plans.

But I’m also not the type to turn away a person in need. So I’ll do what I must to help him out.

I’ll just pretend that I’m not enjoying his company. And I’ll ignore the fact that he’s sweet and funny. And I’ll tell myself every day that he’s out of my league.

Because I’m as inexperienced as they come. And Dallas Van Zant is nothing but wild




Read my four-starred review of Nothing But Wild.

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An Excerpt from Nothing But Trouble
Dora
“What d-do you t-think you’re doing?”

“Watching out for you.”

“Hardly, y-you’re trying to r-ruin my good time!” I shout over the music. Taking my arm, he tugs me away, off the dance floor, and leads me to the wall on the far side where it’s only slightly quieter.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, he crosses his arms and the t-shirt he’s wearing pulls tight, showcasing the complex network of muscles and veins of his arms. Thirsty. I’m very thirsty all of a sudden.

Next, his blue gaze goes soft and sensual. If he thinks I’m going to capitulate that easily, he’s seriously delusional.

“I have a deal for you.”

Not what I was expecting but whatever. “I d-don’t n-need a deal.”

“You don’t know what the deal is. How could you know you don’t need it?”

“Because I d-don’t n-need or want anything from you.”

“Well that’s not very fair. You haven’t even heard my proposal yet. How do you know you don’t want something you don’t know?”

“You’re not going to l-leave me alone tonight, are you?”

“Not until you hear what I have to say.”

“Fine. G-G-Get on with it so I c-can get back to dancing.”

“Let me be your wingman.”

I’m speechless. For the first time in my life I am legit speechless. One minute of silence passes. Two minutes pass. “I d-don’t get it…”

“You’re giving me rides to the shelter.” He shrugs like all this makes perfect sense. “In return, I’ll be your wingman.”

“My wingman?” I repeat. I don’t know if I should laugh. I mean, he’s funny. This proposal is hilarious. The scary thing is, I think he’s serious.

“You still working on that list? How many do you have left?” I say nothing. I admit nothing. “Huh…” He studies my face. “I take it that means all of them.”

“I g-got a makeover, didn’t I? And the Ferris wheel. I got that one d-done––” I snipe defensively. Yeah, I’m losing this argument or whatever you call this, this negotiation.

Reaching out, he takes a piece of my hair and tugs. “You look beautiful,” he says without missing a beat. “I like the makeover.”

Wait…did he just throw it out there that he thinks I’m beautiful? And I’m supposed to roll with it like the plate tectonics of the planet haven’t just shifted? What kind of game is he playing?

“What kinda g-game are you playing?”

He looks momentarily confused. “No game.” He leans in for a closer look, eyes narrowed. “Are you drunk?”

“No!”

“Then I’ll repeat myself because you’re hard of hearing tonight. I wanna help you.”

“You w-want to h-help me with m-my list…are you drunk?”

“You wanna be bad, right? I know bad.” He proudly pats his chest. “I’m the king of bad. All I’m sayin’ is––that’s my department. Let me help you be bad.”

I giggle because, dear me, he is serious.

He leans in, his mouth inches from my ear, and murmurs, “Say yes, Dora. I know you want to.” The silky purr slides over my skin, pebbles my nipples, and makes me shiver. Then he looks into my eyes and smiles. And that look, that devil-may-care look, seals the deal.

What do I have to lose? Except possibly my heart. But I’ve already tried it the safe way and it hasn’t worked in my favor. That’s why I throw caution to the wind.

“Okay…you’re on.”

“Good.” He takes my wrist and leads me away again.

“W-Where are we going?”

“To dance.”

And irrepressible smile grows on my face. I. Am. In. Trouble.




About P. Dangelico
P. Dangelico loves romance in all forms, cuddly creatures (four legged and two), really bloody sexy pulp, the NY Jets (although she’s reconsidering after this season), and to while away the day at the barn (apparently she does her best thinking shoveling horse crap). What she’s not enamored with is referring to herself in the third person and social media so don’t expect her to get on Twitter anytime soon. Oh, and although she was born in Italy, she’s been Jersey Strong since she turned six.

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