Title: Dare to Enter: The Crazy Rich Davenports (The CRD Posse, Book #1)
Author: Kelly Moore & Shannyn Leah
Genre: Women’s Urban Humor Fiction
About the Davenports: “Meet the Davenports a rich family who is dysfunctional messed up more than the average. They have more money than they need and problems galore.” ~Reviewer
“Some of their actions left me shaking my head and laughing out loud. “ ~Reviewer
“I got invested in this family and want them to find their happiness through the pain and threats to their family. “ ~Reviewer
Making DysFUNctional Proud!
Warning: If you are looking for a sweet, sensitive book with a happily ever after, this isn’t it. It is a totally inappropriate book about a completely dysfunctional family. The F word flies free along with many other curse words. Feel free to get drunk (because the Davenports sure are!) while you’re reading it, and prepare to wet yourself laughing. If sex scenes are not your thing, this book might not be your thing. But, if you have a crazy sense of humor and like raunchy comedies – you’re in the right place. Join in on the craziness of The Crazy Rich Davenport Family.
Lucy’s husband Mark died a year ago. Her life and her families have been steadily going downhill and things have gotten a little out of control, to say the least. When her daughter plans a birthday party for her half-sister. Lucy decides it’s time they all get their act together, but not everyone is on the same page.
There will be dildos and strawberries flying in the air, along with firecrackers, curse words, and little blue pills being slipped into drinks – hard-ons for everyone! Lucy’s hope for normal in her dysfunctional family will never happen and things only get worse when Mark’s snooty parents drop a bombshell that will only spark more insanity from The Crazy Rich Davenport family.
Hold on for the ride and laughter that ensues
BONUS EXCERPT :
MY DAUGHTER IS planning a what now?
What is my senile crazy mother talking about? And why is my dad so blind he can’t see what a nut she is? They’re off to pop pills and bang for the next however long that crap keeps a man hard.
I shudder, because who wants to picture their parents going at it like wild rabbits? And I don’t have to go far for the images. They’ve damaged my younger self with past sexual rendezvous I’ve walked in on. A six-year-old shouldn’t see their parents naked and humping on the kitchen table—where we all sit and eat family meals…it’s just not right.
I groan as the thumping pain of my headache intensifies. I need coffee and some Advil, so I head toward the kitchen where my dad already has a pot brewing for me. He was my reliable parent growing up. I could always count on him while my mother was off developing some wild entrepreneurial idea that never worked. The closest she’s ever had to success is smuggling the Viagra into the retirement village now. Thank god I met my late husband and married into his filthy rich family to escape the downhill path of what my life could have been.
I snicker as I bring the warm mug to my lips. His parents loathe me, accusing me of being a gold digger. I don’t blame them; I’m nothing like his first wife who’d come from a wealthy family with a wealthy background. But once I showed my late husband another side of life, nothing his parents tried to say could tear us apart. Then enough kids later, to ensure I’d be set for life, and I’m happily living the dream.
“Mom don’t sit on Frankie!”
I jump up at the sound of my youngest daughter’s warning and the hot liquid spills out of the mug and lands on the front of my silk nightgown.
“Shit!” I pull the wet material away from my skin making gasping sounds.
“Dollar.” Bets, short for Elizabeth after her stuck-up grandmother Davenport, scoots in a seat next to mine. She looks at me with brown eyes as dark and deep as her father and my insides crumble. I loved that man. As much as I wish and pretend I married him for his money, I’d fallen head over heels for him. Now I only have memories of him and the matching eyes of my children, except for the older two. They have my father’s blue eyes.
I lean my upper body forward to keep the material off my skin and grip the back of the chair, taking deep breaths as not to strangle my favorite child. Yeah, I play favorites. You would too if you had six to choose from.
“Bets, Frankie isn’t real.” He’s her imaginary friend and at six-years-old her daughter needed to outgrow this childish game.
“Not if you sit on him and kill him.”
“I’ll kill him for you, Mom!” My second youngest comes barreling into the kitchen and a dart flies by my head hitting the back of the chair. “Done. Frankie is dead.” Bryant snickers an evil sound and I don’t even want to look at what ridiculous outfit he’s wearing today. At the same time, his loud voice is piercing my already spinning head. All I want is a cup of coffee in silence. Why can’t I have a peaceful cup of coffee?
What is today? Friday? Saturday? It has to be Saturday because the kids aren’t in school.
Oh lord that means two full days of…this.
“Bryant, inside voice.” He’s dressed in all black and a costume I don’t recognize. I can’t keep up with his villain daily changes.
“You missed.” Bets sticks her tongue out at her brother. “Because you’re a terrible villain.”
“Oh yeah!” Bryant climbs on the table pointing a dart at Bets, and to be honest, I’m not sure if it’s fake or real.
Daisy. Thank god. I love Daisy. She keeps me sane in this shit show of a house. She held this family together when I could barely get out of bed in the mornings. This is saying a lot because she has so many issues of her own, but she held it together, and for that, I will always be grateful.
Bryant jumps off the table, but not before making a slicing motion across his throat, a warning to his sister. Bets rolls her eyes and offers Frankie a cookie. I’m still not sure if Frankie is male or female. I’m living in a zoo I swear.
I finally sit down—beside un-gendered Frankie—and get a sip of coffee when my eldest daughter gracefully sweeps into the kitchen to interrupt me. I’m getting a coffee maker in my room. That’s my goal for today.
“Mom, we are going grocery shopping today for Imogene’s party.”
My second sip of coffee spews out of my mouth all over the plate of cookies.
“Shit,” Bryant says.
“Dollar,” Bets says.
“Bryant!” Daisy raises her voice, but only to a precise tone she’s mastered with my kids. She’s a life saver I’m telling you.
Bryant gives Daisy a questioning look that is hard to take serious when his face is caked in layers of black face paint. “What? Mom said shit and didn’t pay a dollar.”
If the kid does everything I do we’re all doomed.
“And it has to be that small organic shop in the village because she won’t eat anything that’s not organic.” Gemma slaps a piece of paper on the table beside the drops of coffee and the loud thump rings my head.
“How would Princess Imogene ever know real organic from not organic?”
I’m trying, but this conversation is not holding my attention whatsoever. I sip my coffee.
“I’ll give you a half hour to drink your coffee and have a shower.”
“No.” I twist my body away from my daughter and her list.
“Mom, you’re throwing Imogene a party.” Gemma comes around in front of me. “It’s small just us, Grandma and Grandpa Davenport, Uncle Jacob, Aunt Jane and Cash are coming.”
Cash? When did he get back into town? My husband’s brother has been living as far away from this family for as long as I can remember. I don’t blame him, his parents are haughty, demanding people. Cash is the last person I have to worry about right now.
“Why are we hosting a party for Imogene?” I ask. “She’s not my child. She’s not even a child. She’s a snot-ass grown adult.”
“Bets!” I yell. I’m going to owe one-hundred dollars by the end of this morning gathering.
Bets levels a serious look at me. “I am saving for bunk beds for me and Frankie.”
I roll my eyes, but the motion brings another round of dizziness. If I could remember last night, I’d bet I had a good time.
“Everyone has a list.” Gemma waves papers in front of me. I’m tempted to throw them in the curse jar. “You and I are on grocery shopping duty.”
I can barely stand and she wants me to walk down aisles fighting for the ripest tomato.
“Give Daisy the list.”
“It’s a PA day for the elementary school kids so she has her hands full keeping them out of trouble.”
“Don’t you think it a little late to be planning a party for tomorrow?” I ask, grasping at any straw to eliminate tomorrow’s disaster and a disaster it will be. It’s never a smooth, easy time with my in-laws and my husband’s demon spawn.
Gemma plants a firm hand on her hip and I see her nose twitch with annoyance. I want to tell her to let the beast inside her out, step past her sweet little facade and fucking scream bloody murder, but then I’d likely owe thirty bucks in the jar.
“Yes mom, I do. You were supposed to have already planned this. If you wanted Daisy to go grocery shopping, you should have planned it for Thursday while the kids were at school and if you wanted a party planner instead of having Yaya get the loot bag and decorating supplies, again, you should have planned it months ago.”
“Yaya got the loot bag favors?” My lips curl with amusement. This is a recipe for disaster that might be the only thing worth attending dinner. Look out for erect penises everywhere.
“You mom. Not me. I’ve been in school.”
I stand up and touch my worried daughters face. So young and not a wrinkle on her smooth skin. Oh, the days of youth. I miss those carefree days.
“Sweetheart, I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, stop focusing on school and find a rich husband.”
If she keeps glaring the way she is at me right now, she’ll have wrinkles before she nails a decent, rich husband. As of now, she’s a Davenport, young, gorgeous—more so if she’d lose the cardigan and spritz her straight hair—she could have her pick of the men. Maybe we should be throwing a husband-hunting party and inviting all the single wealthy men.
“I don’t need a rich man. I have money. I want a career.”
I lean in. “I don’t think you can confidently say that without popping your cherry first.”
“Mother!” Gemma looks at her siblings, but they’re too preoccupied with Bryant’s arrows. I’m now convinced by the pointed tips that they’re real.
“Good morning everyone.” My daughter’s eyes land on my last night’s fun. I don’t let her ogle him alone. I didn’t hire Rye because he’s a good gardener. I hired him because I wanted to touch, lick and devour that hard, hot body of his. I am single now and it’s been a year of mourning.
Mission accomplished. As many nights a week as I can…now if I could just remember those nights….
“Did I hear we’re planning a party?” Rye asks.
We’re. As if he’s part of the family. He’s not the sharpest tool in his garden bag. A pushover, too easy, and dumb. He’s a big dumb hunk that can lift me and bang me against a door like a beast. I bite my lower lip as my body starts reacting to the idea, giving me even more reason to skip grocery shopping and drag this boy—he’s decades younger than me—back to my bedroom.
“Gemma’s planning a party,” I say, looking between my daughter and my play toy. Her parted mouth and small breaths indicate how bad she has it for this piece of fine male specimen. She’s trying not to stare at his naked torso, but really, who can resist taking a look. Daisy. Apparently Daisy can resist a peek at the goods. If Slutty Pepper were here she’d pounce poor Rye right in front of all of us.
The thought gives me an idea.
“Aren’t you Gemma?” I hit the back of her shoulder with mine to get her tongue moving.
She clears her throat. “I’m helping my mother plan a party for Imogene.”
“Oh we’re having the family over.” Should I remind him he’s not related to us just because we’re screwing? “That’ll be nice.”
I roll my eyes. Clearly he’s not related to us or that sentence wouldn’t have come out of his mouth.
“What do you need me to do?” He walks around the table and stops in front of me and Gemma. I hear my daughter’s tiny gasp. He folds his arms over his bulging tattooed pecs which increases his hotness.
But I have another plan. A plan that will save me from leaving the house today and give my daughter a shove in the right direction.
“I—I didn’t make you a list.” Even her small voice sounds like a virgin.
“I have the day off. So if you need me to do anything.” His voice always has that low and velvety smooth tone that warms a woman’s lower part of the body.
This is where I step in. I touch Gemma’s arm with one hand and Rye’s arm with the other. “Rye, would you be able to help Gemma with the shopping today? She has a list of organic foods she needs to pick up and she’s sort of in a rush.”
I know Rye is down-to-earth, a vegan and a huge fan of fresh fruits and vegetables. He really does love all kinds of gardening, but he’s certainly better in my bed than the flower beds. But his lack of pulling weeds with his hands is made up with his talented fingers under the sheets. Besides, I hired Santiago to come when everyone’s asleep and fix the outdoor flower beds. No one knows and I’ll keep it that way.
“I would love too.” He pushes his long hair behind his ears and nods with excitement.
“Gemma, will that work sweetheart?”
Gemma bites her lower lip and looks at me with furrowed brows then back to Rye and they ease with her shy smile. This act would turn the best of men on. “If you don’t mind.”
Rye shakes his head. “No. I would love to take you. I know the perfect market. I’ll drive. Let me get changed.” He reaches over and touches my daughter’s arm and her face turns a cute shade of red.
I’m not about sharing my men with my daughter, but this big dumb goof isn’t a permanent fixture in my life and Gemma needs a good lay. A few pushes from me and these two might be shacking up in less than a month.
When he walks away I can hear my patio chair and a glass of wine—a cup of wine a day helps with hangovers, right? No, maybe I’ll need a few then.
Gemma turns to me, that frown I swear she reserves just for me. “I’m not Slutty Pepper.”
She might not be Slutty Pepper but she’s definitely Horny Gemma.
BINGE READ THE DAVENPORTS (The CRD Posse):
Dare to Enter, Book #1: New Release (Pilot)
Hot Mess, Book #2: Release Sept 4th (Lucy)
The Loon, Book #3: Release Sept 18th (Yaya)
F%#king Screwed, Book #4: Release Oct 2nd (Ford)
Don’t Wake the Dead, Book #5: Release Oct. 16th (Gemma)
Then There Were Four, Book #6: Release Oct. 30th (Daisy/Slutty Pepper/Tommy)
Get your copy of DARE TO ENTER today:
About Kelly Moore
Kelly writes so the characters inside her head can come to life. She writes sexy, steamy, suspenseful romance stories, laced with a touch of humor.
Her true addictions include traveling, exploring old books stores for treasures, laughing with friends and family, eating mint Oreo ice cream, and spoiling her grandchildren rotten.
She’s a critical care nurse by day and an author by night. Writing settles her mind and spirit, plus she gets to spend her days in her pajamas and sipping on Dutch Bros coffee.
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About Shannyn Leah
Contemporary romance author Shannyn Leah loves olives, lip gloss and reading (and writing) romance novels. Her love of words started at an early age and soon grew until, during her teenage years, she’d started writing her own novels. When her mom pushed to finally publish some of the stories, she quickly amassed two complete romance series (By The Lake and Caliendo Resort series) and, in 2016, released her first Fantasy Romance entitled The Gatekeepers (Part One of the Winters Rising series).
When she’s not writing contemporary romance books into the early hours of the morning, Shannyn can be found antiquing with her two favorite people, her momma and sister, in their picturesque London, Ontario hometown.
Shannyn would love to get to know her readers as you get to know her (just don’t send her any carrots!)
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