Meet the men behind Wingmen Inc
Meet Ian
Ian Hunter, ex NFL football player, with a huge heart and a giant, large, mega watt, smile ;) He's always been a player off the field and on, so why not use his talents to better the world? It only makes sense, if one can't play, why not teach? So thats what Ian does, he teaches women how to get the man.
How to walk.
Talk.
Dress.
Eat.
And yes, even text.
Some may call him a genius, but really, he's just a regular guy, he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like you do, only his pants are designer, and his ego? Well, lets just say it matches the size of something else.
Just know, that if you need a wingman? He's your guy.
ARC received for an honest review
Ian Hunter is a wingman - teaching women the tricks of the trade to get the man that they want.
And he is good at it.
Then he meets Blake Hensley. She is the complete opposite to him, more tomboy than woman - and he finds her irrestistible!
Oh how I adore Blake. 1992 called and wants their scrunchies back! I couldn't help but fall for her dorkiness, he cluelessness to how wonderful she is.
There were plenty of laugh out loud moments, but there were also plenty of deeper, sentimental and emotional moments.
The Matchmaker's Playbook is a funny, unique love story - Ms Van Dyken does good rom-com!
There are some great secondary stories, particularly Lex and Gabi - Ian's two best friends. They bicker like nobody's business, but you can feel that spark between them. Things are going to be explosive if they get their act together!
Ms Van Dyken just has that knack with whatever genre she is writing at the time - from rom-com, to mafia to vampires. I am drawn in each and every time.
Can't wait for more in the Wingmen series.
EXCERPT
“You’re really . . . hot.”
“I know,” I said in a bored tone. “But remember, you’re my client. I’m helping you so you can help yourself.”
Shell frowned. “So you don’t ever date your clients?”
No, because all of my clients were in love with someone else, and I didn’t have time to play the hero. I almost always created a catastrophe that their crush had to save them from, solidifying that relationship and breaking them away from whatever hero worship they had of me. It made sense, if you really thought about it. The women I dealt with were so starved for male attention that they had a hard time telling the difference between
my acting and actual feelings. It’s why I always made my rules very clear.
“Never,” I said, keeping my voice crisp. “Shell, sweetheart. I’m going to e-mail you the schedule for the next week. Let me know if you have any issues, but no phone calls, do you understand?”
She nodded slowly.
“Only texts and e-mails. We don’t talk on the phone. And if you see me around campus, you don’t know me. Outside of our business arrangement, we’re strangers. And if anyone asks about Wingmen Inc. . . .”
She sighed. “I know, I know. Give them the red card with the Superman logo on the front and the giant W on the back.”
I winked. Our cards were genius. They just looked like stupid Superman cards, when, really, the message was on the back. The message was always in the details people rarely paid attention to. “Great.” Standing, I held
out my hand. “Seven days is all I need.”
She glanced over at the barista, who was still blatantly shooting daggers in our direction. “I hope you’re right.”
With an eye roll, I pulled her in for a quick kiss on the lips and whispered, “I’m never wrong.”
“You smell spicy.”
Aw, how cute, a compliment. Maybe I’ll only need six days. After all, one of the days was completely dedicated to learning how to stroke a man’s ego. Look how fast my little grasshopper was learning!
“Thanks.” I placed my hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the coffee shop.
“Bye, Ian.” She walked toward a red Honda and hopped in. Damn, I’d had her pegged as a green Jetta type of girl. Well, can’t win ’em all.
The minute I jumped into my Range Rover, my phone rang.
“How was she?” Lex yawned on the other end of the phone. I imagined he was probably shit-deep in e-mails, since it was two weeks after New Year’s, meaning everyone with a pulse had just created New Year’s resolutions to change their lives. “Because your waiting list is hella long, and if she’s not a good fit, I have another girl that offered to pay me in sexual favors to move her to the top.”
“Cross her off,” I barked. “If she knows how to give favors, she knows how to get her own damn man.”
“Noted.” Lex chuckled darkly.
I made a mental note to make sure he actually checked her off the list rather than making fake promises just so he could get his rocks off.
“Oh,” Lex said, “and Gabi says if you don’t make it tonight for dinner, she’s going to glue your hand to your penis. Though she was much more graphic.”
“Always is.” I grinned. “Text her and let her know I’m on my way.”
“Done.” He hung up.
I didn’t pick this life. It’s not like I woke up one morning and went, Wow, wouldn’t it be so badass to help dowdy women get the guy? And before you stomp off in a huff, look at the facts. Almost 60 percent of women marry
down, meaning most women go for a man with the dad bod. The guy who is more than likely going to make less than them; never work out; eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; and, let’s face it, need Viagra by
age forty.
All it takes is a simple Internet search to get the facts.
Women are, by nature, insecure creatures, and if by the tender age of thirty-five they haven’t settled down, they’ll most likely marry the guy with the unfortunate bald spot and a heart of gold.
And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
It’s kind of like when you go to the pound and pick the dog with the lazy eye because you feel sorry for it and you know without a doubt that bastard will never stray.
So what’s the difference between settling and settling?
The first type of settling is cute. The dog with the lazy eye, or in this case, the man, really is what’s best for the girl. A match made in heaven. They’re the couples you see holding hands while you wonder if the girl’s legally
blind. It’s the hot tall mom and the short dad. The sorority girl and the guy with the beer gut. The cheerleader and the science nerd.
For some reason, the universe accepts this. I accept this.
What I don’t accept? The insecure type of settling, desperate in nature.
Granted, that’s rarer.
But getting more and more common.
It’s when a girl never reaches her own potential, thus, settling for less than what she’s worth. It’s the quiet girl who was never taught how to wear makeup. The chubby girl who eats her feelings but has a hilarious
personality, who should by all means be paired with the quarterback.
It’s the matches who never find one another.
It’s my sister.
The Matchmaker's Playbook by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on FACEBOOK or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .
