Roman Crazy

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Authors: Alice Clayton,Nina Bocci

BOOK: Roman Crazy
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Praise for the hilariously fun

R
O
M
A
N
C
R
A
Z
Y

“There are books that make you laugh out loud, make you teary, make you hot and bothered, make you smile. And then there are books that make you want to crawl inside them and live within their pages. That's what
Roman Crazy
is.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author of the Tangled series, Emma Chase

“I went CRAZY over
Roman Crazy
—this is simply a perfect romance!”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Jennifer Probst


Roman Crazy
is a laugh out loud romantic comedy about second chances, friendship, and the beauty of Rome. You won't simply read this novel, you'll devour it as Alice Clayton and Nina Bocci transport you to Italy and guide you on an unforgettable adventure.”

—Sylvain Reynard,
New York Times, USA Today,
and #1 international bestselling author of
Gabriel's Inferno
and the Florentine series

“Nina Bocci and Alice Clayton wrote a grown-up romance that is heartfelt, sexy, and transportive. As a bonus, the city of Rome is as much of a character as the swoony Marcello and the relatable Avery.”

—Jen Frederick,
USA Today
bestselling author


Roman Crazy
is a sexy, steamy slow burn. Pack your suitcase and get ready for a wild ride through the streets of Rome with a hot-as-sin leading man. I want to clone Marcello and keep him forever. A visceral reading experience that takes you from the cobbled streets of Rome to the bedroom and everywhere in between. Get your fans out! Five stars of smolder.”

—Helena Hunting,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Bocci and Clayton know how to craft an amazing romance! The beautiful descriptions of Rome will make you feel like you are on vacation. This book it a spa visit and a best friend all wrapped up into a funny, sexy, life-affirming bundle. 1-Click the heck out of
Roman Crazy
.”

—Debra Anastasia, author of the Poughkeepsie series


Roman Crazy
is a sexy, delicious tour through Italy as well as the human heart. Marcello and Avery are as impossible to resist as a double scoop of gelato. Like fine Italian food,
Roman Crazy
should be gobbled up as quickly as possible.”

—Sarina Bowen,
USA Today
bestselling author of
Rookie Move

“Nina Bocci and Alice Clayton bring Italy to life with this hilarious, sexy, and emotional book full of yummy food and even yummier men. Get ready to laugh, cry and swoon!”

—Elle Kennedy,
New York Times
bestselling author

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To everyone who reads romance. Spread the love. The world needs it.

W
E WOULD LIKE TO THANK
the incomparable Micki Nuding for helping us on the first leg of the
Roman Crazy
journey. You saw what Marcello and Avery could be and sent us on the path to get there. Seriously Micki, we hope you're loving retirement because we miss the hell out of you. P.S. that's us knocking on the front door, we brought wine!

To the super-sassy, hilarious, and straightforward Lauren McKenna, who doesn't pull any punches. We wouldn't be here without you and we adore the hell out of you; thank you for taking us on. To the remarkably patient and fabulous Marla Daniels for not laughing at some of the emails that we've sent. These two women deserve medals and enough wine to fill a river. Thank you both for kicking our asses into making this book what it is today. Seriously, we're sending wine and cookies. That's us down at the security check-in. They won't let us in. Help.

To the incredible team at Gallery Books, good Lord you have made this a fun experience. Louise Burke, Jen Bergstrom, Theresa Dooley, Liz Psaltis, Diana Velasquez, the XOXO After Dark ladies, Abby Zidle and Kate Dresser, the audio crew,
Sarah Leiberman and Louisa Solomon for giving Avery a real voice that shines. To the production staff: John Paul Jones (best name ever), Faren Bachelis (we're so sorry about all the dangling participles), Alicia Brancato, Davina Mock-Maniscalco (those chapter ornaments are to die for)—you deserve all the cookies. All of them. And the wine. Can we send wine?

To Kristin Dwyer, the most kick-ass and most extraordinary publicist, as well as the most tolerant human being ever, for putting up with all of the batshit emails and never telling us to calm our shit. We love you more than the banana cake from Magnolia. Which is a lot.

To our Captain Hookers, Lolo and PQ. Thank you for your friendship. For the laughs and the cries and the hysterical bouts of laughter on the rides at WDW and DL. Thank you for reading and loving this. Here's to a Captain Hooker trip to Italia. We thank Stephenie every day for bringing all of us together and we couldn't love you two more. We'll meet you with some wine and cranberry juice at the Tower of Terror. We need to beat the 9-ride record.

Christina Hogrebe, our agent and Sweet Valley High soul sister. Thank you so much for everything you did for this book. You loved Marcello first! And to the team at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, cheers to you all for keeping us sane through this whole process. You guessed it, we're bringing the wine.

To the lovely and fabulous people whom we are humbled to call our friends: Sylvain Reynard, Emma Chase, Jennifer Probst, Elle Kennedy, Jen Frederick, Debra Anastasia, Helena Hunting, and Leisa Rayven. They pre-read this book in every form imaginable and some of it was scary. Missing scenes, crazy half-assed sentences, and the backward chapter we managed to send.

Plus, our dear Italian friend Marinella, for everything she did to make it accurate.

To Heather Carrier from HEA Designs, Simone Renou from In My Dreams Designs, and Gel from Tempting Illustrations for the kick-ass graphics work. Sim and Gel, we can't send wine to your countries but you better be certain that we're drinking it with Heather in honor of you ladies. RT next year, we're all getting pickled. A sweet and adorable thank-you to Stephanie from Sweets by Steph for the beautifully perfect
Roman Crazy
cookies.

The fandom from which we met will forever be a span of time that we're both eternally grateful for. Without it, we wouldn't have met each other and become the bestest of best friends or met all of you, whom we adore. Thank you, friends and readers, for following the two of us on this fun journey.

A special note from Nina: For all of my friends who tirelessly blog and review the world of romance. You have all worked with me from the beginning, and I for one can never thank you enough for everything that you do. You guys were so excited when I announced that we were writing this book together and it was the best feeling in the world to have you want to read something from
me
that wasn't a flaily email about how much I loved a book. From the worldwide messages of congrats, to the emails asking “what can I do for you?”, I will forever be grateful for everything you guys do to bring the love of romance to as many readers as possible.

Keep on spreading the love. The world really needs it.

See you next time.

xoxo

Nina & Alice

I  
WAS STARING AT A
penis.

I was staring at a penis, and yet I couldn't actually comprehend what I was seeing. Which was weird, because technically that penis in question belonged to me. Not in the anatomical sense, but in the marital sense. As in, I'm familiar with that penis, I know that penis, I'm married to that penis, except . . . this penis is, in fact, doing something it really shouldn't be doing.

Which was my husband's secretary. Correction: administrative assistant. I was reminded of this fact last Christmas when I inadvertently introduced her to my mother-in-law as, “
This is Daniel's secretary
.” She took the time to tell me her preferred title, which I appreciated, since I was ever so thoughtful when I came to visit my husband in his place of business.

His place of business where he was currently putting his penis into his administrative assistant.

It's amazing how the human brain can compartmentalize when in shock. And speaking of being in shock, what they were doing couldn't be good for that Chippendale antique desk I'd spent weeks scouring the finest stores and auction houses all over
the greater Boston area to acquire so that my attorney husband would be able to host potential clients in a well-appointed office. An office that conveyed just the right amount of trustworthiness, attention to detail, and values above all, with just a touch of contemporary expertise.

And while I was compartmentalizing on the Aubusson rug, my husband of eight years was fucking his administrative assistant on that very desk. With a penis that belonged to me.

And not just fucking,
creatively fucking
. As in, bent over that desk. As in, pulling her hair. As in, riding her hard. As in, finding the little man in the canoe and making sure he came. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been creatively fucked by Daniel.

A Sunday afternoon after golf
maybe
once a month was what I got.
Nothing
creative. Now I see why.

I quietly shut the door, walked across the room with as much grace as I could muster, picked up the 2013 Red Sox World Series commemorative marble-tipped bat, and . . .

“Yeeeeooowwwww!”

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