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USA TODAY bestselling indie author Alice Clayton delights readers with the sexy, laugh-out-loud romance of Caroline and Simon in Wallbanger, the first book in the Cocktail series!
The first night after Caroline moves into her fantastic new San Francisco apartment, she realizes she’s gaining an—um—intimate knowledge of her new neighbor’s nocturnal adventures. Thanks to paper-thin walls and the guy’s athletic prowess, she can hear not just his bed banging against the wall but the ecstatic response of what seems (as loud night after loud night goes by) like an endless parade of women. And since Caroline is currently on a self-imposed “dating hiatus,” and her neighbor is clearly lethally attractive to women, she finds her fantasies keep her awake even longer than the noise. So when the wallbanging threatens to literally bounce her out of bed, Caroline, clad in sexual frustration and a pink baby-doll nightie, confronts Simon Parker, her heard-but-never-seen neighbor. The tension between them is as thick as the walls are thin, and the results just as mixed. Suddenly, Caroline is finding she may have discovered a whole new definition of neighborly…
In a delicious mix of silly and steamy, Alice Clayton dishes out a hot and hilarious tale of exasperation at first sight.


“There was a boy in her room.
Cath looked up at the number painted on the door, then down at the room assignment in her hand.
Pound Hall, 913.
This was definitely room 913, but maybe it wasn’t Pound Hall—all these dormitories looked alike, like public housing towers for the elderly. Maybe Cath should try to catch her dad before he brought up the rest of her boxes.”
~ p. 1
“Reagan was staring at Cath now, frowning. She was wearing tight black jeans and a black top. Maybe she was going out, not to work.
“Your trash can is full of energy bar wrappers,” Reagan said.
“You were looking through my trash?” Cath felt a rush of anger.
“Levi was looking for a place to spit out his gum.… So? Do you have an eating disorder?”
“No,” Cath said, pretty sure it was exactly what she’d say if she did have an eating disorder.
“Then why don’t you eat real food?”
“I do.” Cath clenched her fists. Her skin felt drawn and tight. “Just. Not here.”
“Are you one of those freaky eaters?”
“No. I—” Cath looked up at the ceiling, deciding that this was one of those times when the truth would be simpler than a lie. “—I don’t know where the dining hall is.”
~ p. 56