Chelle snuggled into his side as they watched the rest of the Becketts and soon-to-be-Becketts laugh and take pictures of the animals in their new sweaters. “Do you think the younger cousins think they’re free and clear?”

“Yeah,” Nash said. “But they’re wrong.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Because no one loved happily-ever-afters more than Grandma Betty.” He dipped his head down, stopping just short of kissing his now and forever wife. “I know she gave us ours. I love you, Mrs. Chelle Finch-Beckett.”

“I love you, too,” she said before meeting him halfway in a kiss that made the whole rest of the world disappear.

Turn the page to start reading

Anger Bang

a novel by Avery Flynn

Sometimes you just need to bang it out…

Shy paleontologist Thea Pope just wants to get through her sister’s ‘80s-themed monstrosity of a TV reality-show wedding so she can get to her summer field work. The only problem? Her sister has turned into the ultimate bridezilla - as in pink parasols, organza hats, forcing people to shave and dye their hair levels of over-the-top, it’s-my-day antics - all while on location in a place literally called hell that reeks of sulfur and lost hopes.

The only thing that can make it worse is when her sister declares that she never even wanted Thea in the wedding at all but that the producers insisted. Ouch doesn’t begin to express how much it hurts that her own sister didn’t even want her to be at her wedding.

There’s only one thing Thea can do after her sister finally pushes her too far - she picks the one man at the wedding her sister cannot stand - the groom’s brother, Kade St. James - and has sex with him.

Is it petty revenge that she’ll be rubbing in her sister’s face from now until eternity? Absolutely. Still, it seems like a great idea at the time, and really what could go wrong?

Pretty much everything it turns out.

Preview of Anger Bang

Anger Bang

Thea was in Pepto Bismol pink hell and seriously rethinking her life choices.

She was drowning in lace, had flounces up to her literal neck, and was white-knuckling some kind of parasol thing that looked straight out of a 1980s high school prom hellscape.

“Don’t forget your hat,” her mom called out.

Thea closed her eyes and muffled her groan as much as she could. Of course, there was also a hat. It was big and round with layers of pink organza and was wide enough to cover both shoulders in shade.