Excerpt: The Party Plot by Emily Spady
- Archaeolibrarian
- May 6
- 5 min read
Book Details:
Book Title: The Party Plot
Author and Publisher: Emily Spady
Cover Artist: Morganically_Sourced
Release Date: May 7, 2025
Tense/POV: third person past tense, alternating POV
Genres: Contemporary MM Romance
Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, small town romance, forced proximity, second chance, no third-act breakup
Themes: Self-acceptance, friendship, party planning
Heat Rating: 3-4 flames
Length: 75 569 words/323 pages
It is a standalone story, but takes place in the same universe as my other books.
It does not end on a cliffhanger.
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When Laurel Van Marcke comes home for the summer, he’s immediately thrown back into all the scandals, grudges, and petty gossip he wanted to avoid. But he was expecting that. What he wasn’t expecting was Casey Bright, his mom’s new party planner, who also happens to be the mystery man he spent an unforgettable night with three months ago. But something about Casey, and the whole situation, seems off, and Laurel needs this party to go off without a hitch.
Casey has his own agenda for the upcoming Halloween ball, one that doesn’t include Laurel. He wants nothing to do with the spoiled little rich boy, and definitely doesn’t want to get entangled with him again. But Laurel is persistent, and soon, he’s involved himself not only in the party planning, but in all the most intimate aspects of Casey’s life. And Casey absolutely despises him for it… right?
One thing is for sure, the first annual Halloween Ball will be the event of the year—one way or another.
The Party Plot is an m/m enemies-to-lovers romance featuring elaborate schemes, a few raccoons, several cheesy Halloween props, and a HEA.
This novel is for adults and may contain content that is disturbing or difficult for some readers. There is a full list of content warnings on my website and in the back of the book.
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They were passing the Belmont Hotel now, and Mr. Petrowski was telling them about its resident ghost, a phantom dog that would press up against the legs of people it liked. Pretty adorable as far as hauntings went. Laurel tried again to get Casey’s attention.
“Do you like dogs, Casey?”
Casey shrugged, an irritated frown on his face. “They’re fine, I guess.”
“Wow, what an enthusiastic endorsement. Not exactly what a dog lover would say.”
“My grandmother had birds when I was a kid.”
“Birds?” Laurel hadn’t been expecting that. He sat up, curious about what else Casey might reveal.
“Parakeets. And love birds. They were—” Laurel might have been mistaken, but his face seemed to soften for a moment. Then the frown was back. “Loud. They were really loud.”
“God. I don’t know how I feel about you being a bird person.”
“Says the guy who gives off big Horse Girl Energy.” Casey crossed his arms. “And it was my grandma, not me. I just had to put up with them. Like I’m having to put up with you. Why are you so obsessed with me, anyway?”
Because it was hard not to be. Because Casey had been starring in his dreams for the last three months, had been a constant in the back of his mind. Every shock of bleach-blond hair he’d seen across the room, in clubs, in airport lounges, had made his stomach drop and his skin feel hot all over. Every time he put on a tie, he could feel it wrapped around his wrists, could close his eyes and inhale Casey’s scent, the salty, intimate scent of his skin beneath the cologne.
Laurel swallowed, feeling desperate and pathetic, feeling like a dog ghost plastering itself to Casey’s leg. “I just want to get to know you.”
“Well, I don’t.” Casey looked at him for a long moment. Outside were the footsteps of the horse, slow and deliberate. The sounds of the city waking up. Mr. Petrowski was telling another story, but all Laurel could hear was static, his heart pounding, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Casey held his gaze as he slid across the seat toward him, and then his hand was on Laurel’s thigh, his breath against Laurel’s ear, and Laurel barely kept himself from gasping. His skin was on fire, his scalp tingling and his dick stirring to life as Casey whispered, “I already know everything I want to know about you, Laurel Van Marcke. I know that you’re spoiled, and useless, and not as smart as you think you are. I know that you’re used to getting what you want. But this time, you’re not going to, because it’s run its course. I’m not interested. And when this party is over, I’m looking forward to never having to think of you again.”
“Ouch,” Laurel said, not sure why excitement was bubbling in his chest, not sure why—God—he was still hard. Somehow his hand had found its way onto Casey’s collar, and he could smell the coffee on him, feel the quickness of his breath.
“Are we clear?” Casey asked.
“Sure.” Laurel struggled out. “So clear. Crystal.” Casey’s lips were so close, and he knew how he would taste. Bitter, then sweet and familiar.
“Good,” said Casey, and moved away, going back to looking out the window.
Laurel’s ears were ringing, moths fluttering in his stomach, his thigh throbbing where Casey’s hand had been. So this was it, then. Casey wasn’t interested in playing nice; he’d said it himself. If there was no hope of being friends (or more, so much more), then there was no reason not to go scorched earth. Figure out what he was hiding once and for all. Laurel cleared his throat. He could still feel the roughness of Casey’s collar between his fingers. “I actually am very smart, you know. Despite evidence to the contrary.”
“Could you stop talking?” Casey pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ooh, I’m not good at that. Not good at stopping in general.” He felt a smile sliding across his face.
“You’re going to have to be.”
“We’ll see,” Laurel said, tapping his fingers on the seat. “We’ll see.”
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When she is not writing, Emily Spady likes to paint, hike, and, of course, read books. This is her third full-length novel. She lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States with her husband and cat.
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