Rebel
Rebel Wheels, #1
by Elle Casey
Publication date: October 29th 2013
Genres: New Adult, Romance
NEW YORK
TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY, brings
readers Book 1 of 3 in the New Adult Romance Series, REBEL WHEELS.
BLURB
Teagan Cross, college senior,
rebel, and wiseass extraordinaire, goes from princess to pauper in a single
phone call. Overnight, her life of privilege becomes one of survival, and no
matter where she turns, it seems like the world is out to get her. She’s not
going to fall apart, though. She’s a rebel and she’s strong … determined to
live life on her own terms … and nothing’s going to stop her from getting
things done and making things right. But when a twist of fate brings her to the
doorstep of a different kind of Rebel, she’s forced to figure out when
something’s worth fighting for and when something’s worth letting go.
Content Warning: Contains sexy
adult situations, creative foul language, and some mild violence. May not be
appropriate for younger readers.
Rebel Wheels Series Reading Order
Rebel (Rebel Wheels, #1)
Hellion (Rebel Wheels, #2)
Trouble (Rebel Wheels, #3)
Buy Links:
Amazon / iBooks / GooglePlay / Kobo
FREE! For
a limited time only!
My name’s
Teagan. I know, I know … the name. Twenty-two years ago, my mother thought a
Welsh name for her only child would be beautiful. Teagan means pretty, so it
should have fit perfectly. Who has an ugly baby, right? I guess I did okay in
the looks department. I’m not too short, not too tall. Eating chips and gummy
bears every day has no effect on my somewhat athletic frame, and I’ve been told
my green eyes compliment my pale complexion. The problem with the name Teagan
is my mom never considered the creative names kids would morph it into.
“Yo,
Teabag, what’s up?”
I flip
Perry Spitler off, but he just laughs as he passes on by.
He and I
have an understanding; when we see each other on campus, he insults me, I flip
him off, and we never actually talk. It suits us both just fine. Making out
with him and then ralphing on his shoes in freshman year was one of the best
moves I’ve ever made in my climb up the social ladder at UCLA.
“Why do
you even talk to that douche canoe?” asks my friend Quin as she brushes out her
long, black hair. Quinlan is her real name, but she refuses to answer to it. We
both have a thing with names, which is only one of the many reasons we get
along so well. “I hear he puts toy cars in dark places on weekends.” She puts
away her brush and takes a bite of an energy bar, chewing it like a cow and
waiting for my reaction.
I’m both
intrigued and disgusted. “And by toy cars and dark places we mean…” I twist my
longish, wavy brown hair up into a bun and stick a pencil in it to keep it from
falling to my shoulders again. It’s frigging hot out here in the student union
today. Dry heat, my butt.
“Literally.
Like that movie Jackass. He put a toy car
in his asshole at a party the other night.”
I snort
in disbelief and disgust. “He did not.”
Quin puts
up her hand like a girl scout. “Swear. Guy’s an asscar driver.”
I’m
really happy I barfed on him now. Really, really happy. The kiss we shared?
Well, we’ll just tally that up to a serious lapse in judgment on my part. In my
defense, there were copious amounts of beer involved.
I can’t
help but stare at his butt as he goes by. “Remind me not to accept any rides
from him in the future.”
We
collapse in immature giggles that have Perry turning around and frowning.
Watching his face and imagining that I can see he’s walking with a slight limp
only makes it worse. By the time I can see clearly again, he’s gone.
“Man, I
totally needed that.” I can feel the good mood drugs floating around in my
brain. Now the upcoming Summer of Doom doesn’t seem quite so bleak.
“You
ready for summer break?” Quin asks, crumpling up the wrapper to her energy bar
and throwing it on the ground.
I lean
down and pick it up, sighing as I stick it in my bag. This is her thing. This
is my thing. This is how we roll, with her being a pain in the ass and me
picking up after her. “No. I’m not ready. I want to stay here and hang out with
you and all the cool people.”
“No, you
don’t. Do you know how hot it gets here in the summer? Ugh.” She brushes crumbs
off her lap. “I am going to literally cook in my own skin, like a poached egg.”
“You
forget, I’ve lived here for almost four years now, and No Cal isn’t that
different.”
“But you
always leave in the summer, and No Cal is different, so that doesn’t count. By
the time you get back this September for your very last semester – by the way,
you completely suck for graduating before me – all the poaching will be done.”
“You
should come with me. Silicon Valley’s got a drier heat than LA.” I’m lying, but
she’ll never know.
She faces
me, not smiling. That’s a rare expression for her, as Quin-grins come
frequently and often without provocation. We’re not much alike in that way; my
smiles are rationed for only truly happy moments.
“You
should invite me, and maybe I would,” she says.
“I always
invite you.”
“No, you
don’t. You just say, ‘You should come.’ That’s not the same thing.”
“What do
you want, an engraved invitation?” A tiny spark of hope glimmers in my chest.
Summer would only suck half as much if Quin were with me back at my father’s
place.
“Yes.
That would work.” She sniffs and looks off into the distance.
“I’ll
seriously do it, if that’s what it would take to finally get you up there.”
“No,
don’t bother. I can’t go.”
“Why?
Because LA’s social scene would never survive without you?”
“No.” She
stands, brushing off her legs. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
“Late for
what? My classes were all done as of twenty minutes ago.”
“I have
an appointment with a milkshake over at McDonald’s House of Horrors. Come on.
Your treat.”
We begin
the long walk across campus. “I’ll pay for your ticket,” I say, testing the
waters. I don’t know why I bother, though.
“Nope. I
pay my own way.”
“Do you
have the money?”
“No. You
know I’m broke.” Quin is always broke. She lives off the kindness of others and
a scholarship. I’m not even sure what the scholarship is for. Do they give
scholarships for being a smartass? Because if they do, she qualifies for a full
ride.
“Then let
me pay,” I say.
“No.”
“You can
pay me back.”
“No.”
I try a
different tack. “It’s because you don’t like me, I know. Admit it.”
“No,
that’s not it, and if you try and guilt me into doing it, we won’t be friends
anymore.”
“That’s a
lie.”
“Yes, it
is, but still … I won’t let you pay.”
I give
her my puppy dog eyes. “I’m going to be desperately lonely.”
“No, you
won’t be. You’ll have a bodyguard babysitter.”
I sigh.
“They always suck.”
“That
last one didn’t.”
“The last
one was like forty years old!”
“So? What
do you want to do? Fuck them or just have them take a bullet for you?”
“Can’t I
do both?”
We laugh,
knowing I’m full of crap. I actually liked the last guy assigned to babysit me,
the guy being paid to assuage my father’s paranoia. He actually believes there
are people in silicon valley trolling the neighborhoods for executives’ kids,
since according to him they’d make really excellent kidnapping targets.
Jim was
the name of my last babysitter. Maybe I’ll get him again and we can play chess
all summer like we did last year. I’ve never slept with one of my dad’s
employees. They’re always married, ugly, old, or a trifecta of all three.
Besides, my dad would kill us both if I did something that stupid. We don’t
fraternize with the help.
That’s
what my uber arrogant step-mother says, anyway, although I’m not so sure she
hasn’t put that rule to the side from time to time with the pool boy. Seriously
… I’m not kidding. The pool boy.
“What are
you thinking about right now?” Quin asks me. “I.O.U. for your thoughts.”
“I’m
thinking how much I hate The Heinous One for being such a bag of dicks.”
Quin
smiles. “I’m really looking forward to meeting your step-mother at graduation,
you know that? I’m totally going to call her that to her face.”
I smile
back. “Me too. Some day.” When I find a way to support myself
and don’t have to worry about my father cutting me off.
Buy Links:
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FREE! For a limited time only!
Author Info
Elle Casey, a former attorney and
teacher, is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American author who
lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and a number of furry
friends. She has written books in several genres and publishes an average of
one full-length novel per month.
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