Cover Reveal: Built by Jay Crownover

We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the Cover Reveal and Prologue for BUILT by Jay Crownover!

BUILT is the first novel in her upcoming Saints of Denver Series, a

spinoff of her Marked Men Seriespublished by William

Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins. BUILT is releasing on January 5, 2016! This is a definite one

click, friends!

 Check out the cover of BUILT!

 

Studio portrait of young bearded man --- Image by © 

pinkypills/Corbis

Preorder BUILT Today!

Amazon US ** iBooks ** Barnes & Noble ** Kobo

 

About BUILT:

From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men

books comes an electrifying new spin-off series,Saints of Denver, featuring all the characters fans have

been dying to read about.

Sayer Cole and Zeb Fuller couldn’t be more different. She’s country club and fine-dining, he’s cell-block

and sawdust. Sayer spends her days in litigation, while Zeb spends his working with his hands. She’s

French silk, he’s all denim and flannel.

Zeb’s wanted the stunning blonde since the moment he laid eyes on her. It doesn’t matter how many

smooth moves he makes, the reserved lawyer seems determinedly oblivious to his interest—either that

or she doesn’t return it. Sayer is certain the rough, hard, hot-as-hell Zeb could never want someone as

closed off and restrained as she is, which is a shame because something tells her he might be the guy to

finally melt her icy exterior.

But just as things start to heat up, Zeb is blindsided by a life altering moment from his past. He needs

Sayer’s professional help to right a wrong and to save more than himself. He can’t risk what’s at stake

just because his attraction to Sayer feels all consuming. But as these opposites dig in for the fight of their

lives, battling together to save a family, the steam created when fire and ice collide can no longer be

ignored.

 

And don’t miss this sneak peek of BUILT! Check out the prologue

here!

 

Prologue

I met her at a bar.

She had a beer bottle in her hand even though she looked like she should be sipping champagne out of

an expensive flute, and that inexplicably turned me on. She was pretty and looked completely out of

place in the no-name bar sitting across from one of my longtime friends who also happened to be her

long-lost brother. He was the reason she was here. In that split second that I laid my eyes on her I

wanted to be the reason she stayed.

I knew it was rude and that the two of them needed some time together, some time to figure out what

they were to each other now that she had blasted into his life unannounced. If I was a better friend I

would have left them alone. As it was, I made my way over to the tiny table and sat down. I was covered

in sawdust and had drywall mud caked in the hair on my head and on my face, but she didn’t flinch or

bat an eyelash when I purposely broke up their party of two and placed myself as close to her as I could

without actually touching her.

My buddy Rowdy St. James lifted his eyebrows at me as I stared at her while he introduced us. Sayer

Cole. Even her name was elegant and sophisticated sounding. She was an enigma, this pretty woman

that seemed like she should be in any place but this bar with the two of us. She’d showed up out of the

blue a couple of months ago claiming to be Rowdy’s half sister, claiming that they shared a father,

claiming that all she wanted was to be in his life and have some kind of family of her own. She looked

too delicate to be that brave. Came across as way too proper to have said “fuck it all” and picked up her

life to move it someplace unknown without being sure of her welcome. She looked like silk, but if my

guess was right about her, it was silk wrapped around steel.

Luckily Rowdy was a good guy. After the shock of discovering he wasn’t alone in the world, and once he

realized he had someone tied to him by blood forever and ever, he had warmed up to the idea of having

a sister and appreciated that the sister was Sayer.

I liked Rowdy a lot. He was a stand-up guy and a good friend, but I had a feeling I was going to like his

newly found big sister even more. In my usual tactless way I asked him without looking directly at the

knockout blonde, “So you have a sister? A hot, classy sister?” A sister that was also a lawyer, so beautiful

and smart.

I expected a giggle from her or an eye roll at the outlandish compliment, but what I got was a wide-eyed

stare of disbelief as eyes bluer than anything I had ever seen on earth danced between me and her

brother like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself or with my overt interest in her.

I thought that I had gone too far, pushed the beautiful stranger too far out of her comfort zone. I was a

big guy and knew I looked far wilder and rougher than I actually was. I figured it might be too much for a

woman already obviously out of her element and depth to take.

Instead, Sayer surprised me and I could see by the way he stiffened that she surprised Rowdy, too.

While she wasn’t exactly overflowing with welcome and warmth, she did ask me about the current

project I was working on after Rowdy explained I was a general contractor and had rebuilt the new

tattoo shop he worked in. She seemed genuinely interested, and when I told her that my specialty was

rehabbing old houses and giving them new life, her eyes practically glowed at me. I wanted to touch her

to see if she felt as smooth and polished as she looked. I wanted to leave streaks of dirt on her perfect

face to mark the fact that I had touched her, that she had let me touch her. It was a primal and visceral

reaction that I couldn’t explain and I liked the way it felt. Liked the weight and heft of it in my blood

even if I knew the feeling wasn’t likely to be returned.

She told me all about a fantastic but crumbling Victorian she had purchased that was falling down

around her. She asked me for a business card and I saw Rowdy stiffen across the table. I sighed and

rubbed a hand over my already messy hair. I watched her eyes follow the light cloud of dust that

escaped the strands. I was great at my job, loved what I did, but I couldn’t do anything with her or for

her without laying everything on the line. Especially not with Rowdy giving me the death glare from just

a few feet away.

I dug the card out of my wallet, and when I handed it over our fingers touched. I saw her eyes widen and

her lips part, just barely. She looked a little dazed when I grinned at her.

“You take that card, but understand that the man giving it to you has a past.”

She blinked at me and cleared her throat. “What kind of past?”

It wasn’t something I liked to tell a beautiful woman when I first met her. It was something I liked to

work up to, liked to prove it was behind me, but with this one it seemed like I wouldn’t get that chance.

“I tell everyone that I do any kind of work for or that considers hiring me on for a project that I have a

criminal history. I spent time locked up for a few years, and while I’m not proud of it I can’t deny it

happened. I was a hotheaded kid and it got me in trouble, but I’m the best at what I do, so I hope that

doesn’t discourage you from giving me a call.” Hopefully for more than some construction.

Usually I got a concerned frown followed by a hundred questions about what had led me to serving

time. I got none of that from the stunning blonde. She tilted her head to the side and considered me

silently for a long moment before reaching down and slipping my card in her purse. If anything, I could

have sworn she was wearing a look of sympathy when she told me softly, “I see it every day from the

inside. Sometimes the system simply gets it wrong.” A slight grin turned her mouth up at the corners,

and I wanted to lean over and kiss it. “People make mistakes. Hopefully they learn from them.”

I don’t know that “wrong” was accurate in my case so much as misguided, but the complete lack of

judgment or censure coming from her made me want to pull her into my arms and hold on to her even

more. I had made a mistake, a huge one, one that I was forever going to have to carry around with me,

but I had learned from it, was still learning from it. That kind of understanding from a total stranger was

so rare, especially coming from someone in the legal field. I wasn’t accustomed to someone looking at

me and seeing me, just me, not an ex-con loser after I explained where I had been. It was wildly

refreshing and attractive. I couldn’t quite get a handle on what made the woman tick, but I would

welcome any opportunity she gave me to figure it out. I found her outwardly flawless and pristine

demeanor tempting to taint with my dirty hands and ways, and there was something about the way she

watched me, the way she turned toward me like she was drawn to me, that made me think maybe I

wasn’t alone in the inexplicable pull department.

Rowdy left and she stayed.

We had a couple more beers and talked some more about her house and what she wanted done with it.

She already hired one contractor but felt like the guy was ripping her off. It happened a lot in the

industry, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy was taking her for a ride. Spending time with her was easy.

She was fun to talk to and really fun to look at. I really wanted to get my hands on her house and of

course on her, and I felt like she was maybe, kind of, slightly leaning in the same direction when I made

the mistake of asking her about her past.

I asked about where she had been before she found out about Rowdy and decided to move to Denver so

that she could get to know him. I was curious what kind of life she had where she could leave everything

behind and not be missed. Really I wanted to know if she had a boyfriend or husband stashed

somewhere, but the simple inquiry must have touched a nerve. The next thing I knew she had paid out

the tab for both of us and disappeared into the night. She went from glowing and bright to frigid and

untouchable in the span of a heartbeat.

I figured I blew my shot by being too blunt, as always. I assumed she probably did have someone else in

the picture and had been friendly and polite only because I was good friends with her brother. I thought

I would never hear from her again and was baffled why the thought of that made my chest ache and my

heart feel like it weighed two tons.

Imagine my surprise when she called me and hired me to renovate her house a week later without a bid,

without a contract, without even knowing if I was half as good as I claimed to be.

Of course I accepted, but I knew once I was inside I would need to knock down and rearrange more than

just the walls of the house, in order to get at something beautiful and lasting.

 

Jay 

CrownoverAbout Jay Crownover:

Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The

Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a

rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she’ll settle for writing stories

with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three

dogs.

 

 

 

 

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