Gym or Chocolate? A feel-good romantic comedy from the authors of Undefeated and Model Boyfriend, Stuart Reardon & Jane Harvey-Berrick,
is available now!
#gymorchocolate
Available in KindleUnlimited
Career girl and radio host hotshot Cady Callahan has never met a chocolate she didn’t love. She has curves and doesn’t care.
She’s shocked when a raffle ticket bought to support a veterans charity means she’s won a year’s membership to Body Tech, an exclusive Manhattan gym, where all the top athletes train and all the A-list actors go to get in shape for their action roles. She’s also won a personal trainer in the shape of far too tantalizing Rick Roberts.
Rick is less impressed when Cady’s arrival leads to a media circus. The retired British rugby ace runs a serious training facility, and he definitely doesn’t have time for anyone who doesn’t want to work hard.
When curvy Cady challenges him to train her to run a marathon by the end of the year, it seems a solution to both their problems. If … when she drops out of training, his gym will go back to normal.
But Cady isn’t planning on losing the bet—she just wasn’t counting on any complications. And surly Rick is very complicated. And as tempting as the tastiest treat.
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EXCERPT
© 2019 Stuart Reardon and Jane Harvey-Berrick
All rights reserved.
(Please add your preferred excerpt here)
QUICK QUOTES
I don’t remember the question, the answer is always chocolate.
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I never met a chocolate I didn’t love.
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I was never humble. I was a kickass woman.
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Did someone wake up with a pineapple stuck in his rectum or is it just the way you walk?
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I had a great job, fabulous friends, as much sex as I wanted (thank you, Tinder), an apartment that cost me an arm and two legs but had an awesome view almost to Central Park, and I was comfortable in my own skin.
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There’s nothing like a man saluting you first thing in the morning while he’s wearing nothing but his dog tags and a big smile. Oorah!
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If you wait for a man to give you a compliment, you can be waiting for a frosty day in Hell, and frankly, life is too short.
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Nothing sells sexy like confidence.
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I was a big woman, curvy, lots of wobbly bits, all tits, ass and attitude. Most men didn’t know how to handle me.
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Don’t be a bitch should be the 11th Commandment.
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Honest to God, I needed to be in bed with the lights off, phone off and Kindle off by 9pm or I was toast. Today, I was the crumbs at the bottom of the toaster. I was the burnt pieces that you have to scrape off…
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“Spit it out!” said no man, ever.
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I’m a professional … and I still want to kick her scrawny ass!
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“I don’t know any woman who doesn’t see flaws when she looks at herself. We’re all so busy deciding that we’re too tall, too short, too thin, too fat to remember that we’re unique human beings, and we all deserve to be treated with respect. We’re all awesome.”
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“Aw, honey! I’m not fat, I’m just so darn sexy it overflows.”
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“So, Mr. Roberts,” she said formally. “What are you going to do with this body?” and she gave me a flirty smile. “I’m all about the TAA—tits, ass and attitude.”
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Raising your heart rate and getting sweaty for just 11 minutes three times a week is going to benefit you.”
“Like sex?”
“Only if you’re dating the wrong men,”
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If this was a Manhattan fairytale, I was the beautiful 220lb princess who’d escaped the ogre’s lair. And in my fairytale, I didn’t need a white knight to save me, just a sharp, pointy weapon that I could use on Dick.
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“I don’t go on Tinder to look for date material—it’s simply a fun alternative to self-love. I just think it’s important to try having sex before I rush into dating.”
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The man had a stick up his ass and a serious humor bypass. That must have been an interesting surgery.
I didn’t like pain. Pain was bad. I’d be a terrible submissive—I’d be yelling ‘red’ before he whipped out a blindfold.
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There was a reason women like me didn’t skip—my boobs were like an executive toy—they had kinetic energy all of their own.
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If you can survive high school, you could probably survive the apocalypse with a protractor, chewing gum and a roll of cellotape.
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“I maintain my big ass so more people can kiss it, honey.”
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“A recent study found that women with a little extra weight live longer than the men who mention it,” I stated sharply, eyeing him with the enthusiasm of a patient preparing for colonic irrigation.
Stuart and Jane’s Fitness Journeys
MORE ABOUT STUART
I’ve had four major surgeries as a result of my rugby career—three operations to repair torn Achilles tendons, and a torn rotor cuff in my shoulder that ultimately ended my professional rugby career.
Coming back from injury and surgery is a long, slow process. Keeping a level of fitness during recovery isn’t easy, and rehab after is tough. So for me, exercise and working out at the gym is more than just getting fit, it’s a way of life.
And then there’s the completely different issue of getting lean for a photoshoot like for this cover—especially when your co-author is a bad influence and travels everywhere with chocolate. I really enjoy a good quality dark chocolate, and yep, I had to cut that out to drop a few pounds for the cover shoot. Feel my pain?!
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MORE ABOUT JHB
For years (decades), I told myself that I didn’t like gyms and even though I joined several with the best intentions, I stayed away. I lived in London and walked four miles a day to and from Tube stations, so that seemed like enough. I often had an aching back and shoulders, and sometimes sciatic pain, too. I put it down to having a desk job, even though I was only in my twenties.
When I moved from London to live by the ocean, I began a love affair with swimming—and there’s nothing like swimming in a cold ocean! I walked my little dog every day and felt better, but with turning to writing full-time, there were still a lot of hours spent at a desk.
Then I got really sick. The death of my father was a stressful time, as you can imagine, but it became worse when it triggered Rheumatoid Arthritis in me. Suddenly, I was using walking sticks to get around, sometimes a wheelchair, and often crippled with pain. All the usual drugs helped, and I began to regain mobility slowly. But the turning point for me was joining a gym, and realising what I’d been missing out on all these years.
Nothing happens overnight, and it was a process of simply keeping going two to three times a week to feel the benefits—and I did. I was happy, my family was happy, even my doctor was happy.
Exercise doesn’t cure RA, but it certainly helps.
Connect with Jane
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Pinterest | YouTube | Goodreads | BookBub | Amazon U.K | Amazon U.S
Stay up to date with Jane and sign up for her newsletter
Lexi Ryan is the 
Saucy Southern Readers 