Oops, I’ve Fallen, an all-new funny and swoon-worthy standalone romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is available now!
If my time with Ryan Miller were a hit track on the radio, I imagine the lyrics would go something like this…
“We’re so different, but they say opposites attract. Oops, I’ve fallen, and my heart doesn’t want to come back.”
But, holy bingo night, is my attraction to the sexy, broody businessman so much more complicated than the chorus of a song.
His dad lives right next to my mom, and after the two of them suffered an unexplained accident while taking down holiday decorations, both Ryan and I were forced to become the only thirtysomething residents of Sunny Creek Village Independent Senior Living Community.
Temporarily moving in might seem like overkill for a fractured tailbone and a severely pulled groin muscle, but believe me, when your mom is as wild as mine and your dad is as cantankerous as Ryan’s, they need supervision to ensure they stick to doctor’s orders.
Constantly thrown together by the antics of our crazy parents and the tough-as-nails community enforcer, Betty Matthews, Ryan and I formed an alliance for the sole purpose of survival.
But I never expected to be so interested in finding out what he was hiding beneath his grumpy, serious demeanor. More than that, I never dreamed what I found would be the kind of man women sell their souls to the devil for.
Unfortunately, our little one-hit wonder on the airwaves has more to say before it comes to an end.
Although, finishing the outro to this song is a real doozy...
Tell me…what lyric rhymes with Oops, I’ve fallen for my future stepbrother?
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Incoming Call Dad.
I’m tempted not to answer—very tempted, actually—but I do anyway. There’s a chance he needs me, given the circumstances of my visit in the first place, and I don’t want to leave him hanging.
“Where are you?”
“Baggage claim where?”
“What the hell, Ryan?” he bellows, making me close my eyes against the speech I know is coming. “I told you I’m good. You didn’t need to come here.”
“Yeah, well, your nurse said otherwise.”
“My nurse?” he questions. “Who? That old woman Jessica?”
“Old woman?” I retort on a laugh. “She was younger than you, Dad. By about twenty years.”
I had the pleasure of speaking to my dad’s nurse Jessica on FaceTime last night when I got a call that he had taken some sort of strange fall and had been escorted to the hospital in an ambulance.
“Whatever. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Actually, she does,” I correct. “And so does your doctor, who also recommended that I come down and help you out while you’re recovering.”
“Recovering.” He scoffs. “You’d think I had a heart attack or some shit. I pulled a muscle in my damn balls.”
I shut my eyes briefly. “Groin muscle, Dad. You pulled your groin muscle.”
I want to explain to him there’s a big difference, but in the name of not driving myself insane—or drawing the attention of everyone around me—I bite my tongue.
“Too late for that. I’m already here,” I answer on a chuckle and step up to the carousel to snag my black duffel from it.
He groans. “You’re my least favorite kid sometimes.”
I shake my head. “I’m your only kid, Dad.”
“Yeah, and I like you the least right now.”
I snort. Sal Miller is a seriously complex mix of blunt honesty, overwhelming affection, and way too much testosterone for a seventy-five-year-old man. The good news is that when he sounds like he’s being an asshole, I still know that behind all the flashy insults, he loves me. “Hey, Dad?”
“I’ll see you soon,” I say and hang up the phone before he can respond.
I scrub a hand down my face and take a deep breath. It’s moments like this that make me realize how much shit my mom had to put up with when she was still alive.
Mom, seriously, you were a saint.
With my duffel over my shoulder and my small carry-on rolling behind me, I walk out of the baggage claim area and toward the taxi line.
Normally, I’d rent a car, but since I had to book this flight so last minute and there’s apparently some kind of end-of-summer festival going on in downtown Tampa, there were no rentals available.
Hopefully, though, I’ll be able to arrange something tomorrow. Or else, I’ll have to cruise around in my dad’s Porsche while I’m here.
Not such a terrible fate for me, personally, but as far as taking him places with an injury to his damn groin muscle, I’m thinking his late-life-crisis Porsche won’t be ideal.
Once I make my way through the automatic doors, I spot the taxi line and count only three people in front of me. Not too bad.
While I stand in line, I pull my phone back out of my pocket and start scrolling through work emails. In just the short flight from New York to Tampa—two and a half hours, tops—my inbox has managed to accumulate over forty emails. Since the small regional plane didn’t offer Wi-Fi, I had to settle for working on my end-of-quarter reports.
On a sigh, I run my hand through my dark-brown hair and begin the task of sifting through what’s priority and what’s not.
Five emails done and the taxi line gets smaller by one person.
Another ten emails and the line gets shorter again.
By the time I reach the front, I slide my phone into my pocket and wait patiently as I spot a black taxi heading my way. The driver pulls the cab to a stop right in front of me, but just as I lift my duffel up and over my shoulder to carry it to the trunk, a rush of bright red careens past me.
“Oh, thank you so much!” a female voice calls toward the male driver who has just gotten out of the driver’s side to assist with bags.
But he shouldn’t be helping with her bags.
He should be helping with my bags.
What the fuck?
“Uh, excuse me?” I question loud enough to catch her attention.
She looks up from her spot at the trunk. Her long, wavy red hair fans down her shoulders, and a few rogue curls hang over her face. Bright-blue eyes meet mine, and I can’t stop my brain from thinking, Well, goddamn.
Smooth skin, striking features, and a few freckles dotting her nose, she’s…stunning. The kind of woman that urges a double and triple take. Between her gorgeous face and the way her long legs look beneath her cutoff jean shorts, this woman is like the girl next door, but with secrets.
Dirty fucking secrets.
“Were you talking to me?” she questions, tilting her head to the side when I don’t answer right away.
Shit. Get it together.
Those blue eyes of hers are still locked with mine, searching them in confusion.
“Uh…yeah…actually,” I say, clearing my throat. I glance between the taxi and the taxi line. “You’re kind of stealing my taxi.”
I smirk. “Yeah.”
“Did you call him yourself?”
My head jerks back in surprise. “Well, no, but—”
“So, you don’t know this driver?” she questions, looking between the driver and me. “Do you know him—” she pauses briefly, then asks “—what’s your name, sir?”
She smiles at him. “Bob, do you know this man?”
“No.” The driver shakes his head.
“I didn’t call him,” I explain on a sigh. “But I followed the rules and waited in this taxi line like everyone else.”
“You follow the rules a lot?” she asks, and I don’t know what to make of her question.
It sounds dirty and sexy yet sarcastic and accusatory at the same time.
“Don’t most people?”
“I don’t.” She winks. “But you keep doing you, Barney Fife. The town of Mayberry needs you.”
Okay, she definitely just passive-aggressively called me a square.
“So, you’re just going to steal my taxi, then?” I question and glance over my shoulder to note the other people waiting in line like myself, but I quickly realize I’m the only one standing here. It doesn’t matter, though. My point is still valid.
“Well, I guess that depends.”
“Are you going to fight me for it?”
“Am I going to fight you for the taxi?”
“Um, no,” I answer on a laugh. What a weird fucking question. “I don’t make a huge habit of fighting women.”
“Okay then, I guess the answer to your question is yes, then.” She nods. Winks. Taps her hand on the top of the taxi. “Let’s hit it, Bob.”
Bob looks between me and the redhead, who is now getting into of the back seat of his taxi. But eventually, he just shrugs and hops back into the driver’s seat.
Then they’re off. Just like that.
And I don’t miss the way the mysterious, taxi-stealing redhead turns around in her seat to wave to me as they go or the fact that I’m feeling a lot less attuned to how pretty she is.
Her manners are apparently very, very ugly.
What in the hell just happened?
About Max Monroe
A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
Connect with Max Monroe
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Hawk, an all-new dark MC romance from Serena Akeroyd, is available now!
To the rest of the world, I'm broken.
But when he looks at me, I know what he sees.
To the rest of the world, I'm broken.
But when he looks at me, I know what he sees.
A woman, not a doll.
A fighter, not a victim.
Maybe, he sees underneath that.
Maybe, just maybe, he sees what I was always born to be—a predator.
They took my innocence from me. They stole my adolescence.
Now I'm going to reap upon them what they sowed in me.
This woman hasn't just been scorned... but the hell I'll rain down
upon them will look like child's play.
He's a Sinner, by nature and by vow, but will he take this journey
into the depths of depravity with me?
Will his brothers?
Stick around for the ride—we'll find out if he's man enough for the job.
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
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Hawk, I imagined, would be in his bed.
Had he changed his sheets yet?
I was used to sweat-stained, urine-soaked bed linen, but ever since the Sinners had saved us, I’d grown accustomed to being clean. I liked the soft sheets, the gently perfumed scents that permeated every breath I took when I rolled onto my side as I tried to get to sleep. It wasn’t anything special to most, but a small luxury to me.
Did he sleep naked?
Wear boxer briefs to cover himself up?
Was he a bed hog? Did he sleep light or heavy?
I had a million questions that I knew he’d answer, but I didn’t dare ask them. I didn’t want to want to know, but equally, I did.
It was confusing.
Hawk was confusing.
Months of watching him around the compound, of seeing his gruff resolve as he waded through the shitty jobs the MC had for him as a Prospect, watching that bullheadedness as he broke the rules by fucking any and every clubwhore who came onto him even though they were supposed to be for the brothers only, seeing him interact with his family... I wasn’t sure if he knew how much I’d learned about him over my time at the Sinners’ clubhouse.
Hawk was reliable.
Unafraid to stand his ground.
Loyal to the Sinners.
Still, when he’d stormed into the kitchen to find Alessa holding my hair in her fist as she slammed me into the tabletop, I’d been surprised by his defense of me. Surprised and warmed.
No one ever defended me.
Not once in my whole life.
It was... different.
A change of pace.
Start the series with Nyx for only 99¢!
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I’m a romance bookaholic and I won’t touch a book unless I know there’s a happy ending. This addiction is what made me craft stories that suit my voracious need for raunchy romance. I love twists and unexpected turns, and my novels all contain sexy guys, dark humor, and hot AF love scenes.
I write MF, Menage, and Reverse Harem (also known as Why Choose romance,) in both contemporary and paranormal. Some of my stories are darker than others, but I can promise you one thing, you will always get the happy ending your heart needs!
Connect with Serena
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A Lair So Sinful, an all-new must-read fantasy romance from bestselling author Zoey Ellis is available now!
From a dark, magic-ravaged world comes an enthralling new fantasy romance series. Five brothers, last of an ancient Alpha bloodline, each bound by fire and blood to their majestic dragons.
Captive in a dragon lord’s lair. No memory. Stripped bare.
I’mya awakens to find herself the property of Nyro—a rare and powerful Alpha bonded to a monstrous dragon. Like the other women in the lair, her only purpose is to satiate his every fantasy, but the beautiful omega is hiding a dark secret—even from herself.
From the first explosive encounter with Nyro, her incredible power is unleashed.
His carnal desires feed the fire of her magic.
Nyro’s captivation with her turns to possession, and I’mya becomes more than a plaything for him.
But as shards of her memories puzzle back together, her mind finally unveils the compelling truth.
A purpose much more sinister than pleasure.
Passion. Obsession. Betrayal.
I’mya must fulfill her quest, regardless of the cost. Nyro has conquered her body, but if he discovers the truth behind her presence in his lair… it is her life he will take.
A LAIR SO SINFUL is the first book in an adult fantasy romance standalone series. This story includes romance of a dark nature and a HEA.
Download your copy today!
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Suddenly, the fire stopped; everything was quiet.
I’mya inched her head up to see if the dragon had gone, but instead a figure loomed over her, blocking her view.
It spoke, and a deep, rich voice vibrated through the entire area, penetrating her body and sending a rush along her limbs, but its words were not clear.
I’mya lifted her head, blinking at it.
A man loomed over her. He had wide, muscled shoulders, toned arms and a broad chest with a torso that tapered down to a slimmer waist; his legs just as thick as his arms. In truth, he was a perfectly formed man—except he was enormous.
Dark, tousled hair fell to the top of his ears, and a low-cut dark beard spread over the lower half of his chiseled face. Long lashes framed the dark fury of his eyes, directed at her as he stepped forward.
I’mya panicked, but she couldn’t move. She was too weak to do anything. Thankfully the dragon was no longer attacking, but she heard the sound of its wings beating beyond the opening of the cavern. She wasn’t exactly out of harm’s way, especially when she didn’t know this man’s intentions. This mountain lair, or whatever the grey-cloaked woman called it, was a dangerous place to be.
She had to get out.
The giant man lunged forward, and I’mya squeaked as his hand closed around her neck. He yanked her upward until she was on her feet, then he leaned in, his dark eyes peering at her face, and her naked body. “’et khadon yo ma si kon’aya” The words boomed out of him and vibrated against her chest, even though I’mya was certain he wasn’t shouting. She tried to shake her head, eager to explain she was here by mistake, but it was impossible to swallow let alone speak.
“ko’lat ‘et numakh tmo’ shaf bok ma si tumezni?”
Surely he wasn’t expecting her to respond? Not with his fist so tightly wrapped around her neck? I’mya exhaled in annoyance, her nostrils flaring.
The man’s head tilted, a brow inching down to a frown as he studied her again. I’mya hoped she didn’t look like a trespasser, or even worse, a criminal. This might be the only time that being naked might work in her favor, though it wasn’t as though she looked good. This place was too hot. Sweat slicked her skin and her hair had to be a ragged mess. Hopefully she looked so out of place that this giant would discard her so she could get as far away from the Forbidden Mountain as possible. “Kev,” he murmured, dragging his eyes down at her body again, lingering in places they shouldn’t. His eyes darkened. “si zmusho da dvan. ‘Et lat tan itzutz de da tzo kon’aya.”
I’mya had no idea what he was saying, but the bass of his tone and the look in his eyes ignited a tingle in the pit of her stomach and the most delicate shiver skipped up her spine. The man’s scent was equally provocative. Rich, decadent tones of charred darkness emanated from him, as though he had bathed in the flame and smoke of a thousand midnights. It was potent and intoxicating, and affected her just as powerfully as his voice. Within moments, her nipples hardened, and the tingle in her stomach developed into an ache between her legs.
An even darker look entered the man’s gaze as his nostrils flared.
About Zoey Ellis
Zoey Ellis writes dark, magical, fantasy romances about tortured, possessive, alpha anti-heroes and the sassy heroines who belong to them (even if they don’t want to!). Filled with passionate, carnal steam, Zoey’s stories feature couples that go through tough journeys and make mistakes but ultimately have to grow for each other to survive the dark worlds they inhabit.
Described as ‘deliciously dark’ and ‘unputdownable’, Zoey’s thrilling, fantastical romances come complete with roller-coaster twists and turns, unique worlds, and happy endings.
Zoey is a Londoner, cat mama, and proud romance and epic fantasy addict. She loves jealous/possessive heroes, sexual tension that jumps off the page, and memorable, magical worlds. She reads most genres of romance and has a special love for the ‘true mates’ trope and dark angst. However, she enjoys all different genres of fiction, usually on the darker side.
When not working on her stories, Zoey is usually gaming, buddying reading with friends or stumbling upon new and ridiculous ways to mess up a date!
Connect with Zoey
Dark Halos Facebook Group: https://bit.ly/2Wanne3