In desperation, he turns to the internet to hire a new employee, thinking it will make his life easier.
What he expects is a fellow named Charly.
What he gets is a quirky, sassy, red-head name Charlynn who runs circles around him.
And she’s all woman.
He can’t stand her.
He can’t keep his hands off her either.
Sinner (Reed Security Series #1)
Cap (Reed Security Series #2)
Cazzo (Reed Security Series #3)
Knight (Reed Security Series #4)
Irish (Reed Security Series #5)
Hunter (Reed Security Series #6)
Whiskey (Reed Security Series #7)
Lola (Reed Security Series #8)
Ice (Reed Security Series #9)
Burg (Reed Security Series #10)
Gabe (Reed Security Series #11)
Jules (Reed Security Series #12)
Sniper (Reed Security Series – Book 1 of a 3 Book ARC)
Jackson (Reed Security Series – Book 2 of a 3 Book ARC)
Chance (Reed Security Series – Book 3 of a 3 Book ARC)
Phoenix Rising (Reed Security Series #16)
Alec (Reed Security Series #17)
Storm (Reed Security Series #18)
Wolf (Reed Security Series #19)
A Mad Reed Security Christmas (Reed Security Series #20)
Rocco (Reed Security Series #21)
Coop (Reed Security Series #22)
TNT (Reed Security Series #23)
I’m a stay at home mom that loves to read. Some of my favorite titles are Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Horatio Hornblower. I started writing when I was trying to come up with suggestions on ways I could help bring in some extra money. I came up with the idea that I could donate plasma because you could earn an extra $500/month. My husband responded with, “No. Find something else. Write a blog. Write a book.” I didn’t think I had anything to share on blog that a thousand other mothers hadn’t already thought of. I decided to take his challenge seriously and sat down to write my first book, Jack. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed writing. From there, the stories continued to flow and I haven’t been able to stop. I hope my readers enjoy my books as much as I enjoy writing them. Between reading, writing, and taking care of three small kids, my days are quite full.
Cover Design: Lori Jackson Designs
Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: Roddy Hanson
Release Date: July 9, 2020
of the Devil Kings Atlanta MC. With a fractious club to rebuild and a revolving
door on my bedroom, the last thing I need is 5’4” of sex-on-a-stick trouble.
mysterious beauty shows up with her playmate’s body, dark soulful eyes and a
bagful of cash, I’m willing to make an exception.
fully trust her, but she needs my help.
finally good. I am one of the best high-roller hostesses on the strip. But I’ve
lived in Las Vegas two years and have yet to unpack my bags. Why? Because shit
always goes sideways.
have known this time would be no different.
asked to hostess a private poker game at a mega exclusive hotel penthouse, I
end up in the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time.
soul witness to a double murder and I’m suddenly on the run again, but this
time I’m running for my life.
far as Atlanta before my Porsche blows a tire.
he shows up. Dangerous. Drop-dead gorgeous. Scary badass biker. One I can’t
take my eyes off. Maybe this town is as good as any to lay low.
trouble tracks me down, I want to run again. But he has other plans.
protect me—for a price.
body in his big bed—all night, every night.
dirty deal he offers.
President of the Devil Kings is involved, there are no rules.
stand toe-to-toe with him and make it out of this bargain with my heart intact.
Because in the end, running is what I do best.
store wishing I were anywhere else. Reno dragged me in here with him to get a
birthday present for his ol’ lady, Kara. I had no idea he meant a pistol. He’s
got a little Sig Sauer P238 in his hand, pink camo, no less.
slide’s easy,” the guy says.
toes for months. The boy is head-over-heels lovesick. I can’t help feeling a little
clerk waits on someone further down the long glass case that extends about
twenty feet across the back wall of the store.
to them, when I hear the woman respond.
encountered on the side of the road last week. I straighten, my head swiveling
to look over my shoulder. It’s her, all right. My first thought is I can’t
believe my luck. My second is, what the hell is she doing in here, and buying a
gun, no less? I abandon Reno and walk closer so I can overhear the
conversation, but hang back near a display, pretending a sudden interest in
duck calls. The old man waiting on her shows her the features and benefits of a
that she’d take picking out a pack of gum, she hands it back. “I’ll take one.
Can you put it in a case for me?”
be able to take it with you today. I’ll need to fill out some paperwork first
and you’ll have to come back to pick it up.”
see. All right.”
up. When she sees me, her eyes widen. “Oh, it’s you.”
the Ruger sitting in the glass case. “Please tell me I’m not the reason you’re
buying that gun, darlin’.”
bestselling author who loves writing about hot alpha men who’ll do anything for
the women they love! Her stories are filled with struggle, conflict and real
human emotion. She is the author of the Evil Dead MC series, the Brothers Ink
Tattoo series and more.Nicole loves to hear from her readers! You can contact her via e-mail, her
website contact form or on her social media accounts.
Cover Design: Robin Harper, Wicked by Design
My eyes find the printout of Carrick ‘The Beast of Boston’ Ferguson’s picture sitting in the passenger seat. It’s a newspaper article from a few years ago before he retired from professional boxing.
He’s in his iconic deep green, satin boxing shorts and has the coldest, most aloof stare. A shiver wracks my bones at the sight of those strange, dark eyes. My attention goes to his body. He’s big and has various tattoos here and there. The one inked in the center of his chest catches my attention and I wrinkle my brows trying to figure this one out. It’s odd to see a large tattoo across his chest of a fully bloomed red rose. The blood red petals are splayed wide showcasing the intricacies of the velvety blossom. The stem is thick and thorny with the little beasties that resemble shark teeth more than anything else. It’s a weird tattoo for a menacing man like him to sport. An unladylike snort slips out as I realize the paradox in front of me.
Mom used to have a rose bush that really was more like a tree. The damned thing was gargantuan. It flooded with vivid, deep, red blooms every spring and she personified the thing by naming it Beast. She originally gave it that name as homage to Lan’s favorite Disney movie. Lan used to beg Mom for a rose from Beast so she could put it under Mom’s upturned tea pitcher, pretending she was Belle in Beast’s castle attempting to see the man beneath the monster. Mom always carefully chose a long stem with a perfect bloom at its end and gave Lan the rose but forbade her from trying to touch it herself.
Thorns and all.
We used to walk out to the small garden behind our house with mom and watch her prune Beast while she’d tell us all about the looming presence. She used to say the same thing every year. She’d gather us close at her side and kneel down in front of Beast and get animated as she said, “This is Beast. Beast is the size of a Volkswagen and has an impossible amount of buds, and blooms a thousand or more. Beast also has thorns. Big ones. But if you can sneak close enough to catch a whiff, and avoid the gnarly thorns, you’ll be ruined for all the other roses for the rest of your life. The sweetest scent amongst the thorns.”
How funny that this monster—this Beast of Boston—is also gargantuan and happens to sport one lifelike red rose of his own. He too has thorns, just not the type you can see. His are hidden, and they’re that much more dangerous for it.
He’s a pretty monster.
That’s not quite accurate though. He’s not pretty. He’s beautiful. Well, if you can look past his thorns, that is. There isn’t a female on the planet that would deny him. I’m no fool. May as well call a spade a spade. The Beast of Boston is a hell of a man to look at. Being in the heavy weight division, he’s a mammoth of a man. The specs for his last prizefight—a fight he won, pocketing a substantial purse—says he weighed in at 218 pounds and towered at 6 feet 4 inches. He’s a solid foot taller than me and almost one hundred pounds heavier. The photo shows him at the weigh-in before the fight. Despite being a fighter, his face is enchanting, with sharp features and striking eyes. It’s only too bad that he’s rumored to be a fucking murderer and happens to be one of the leaders of the criminals who I suspect took my sister.
She attended the University of North Carolina at Charlotte where she received a Bachelor’s of Arts in Elementary Education with a minor in Mathematics.
She currently lives in Central New York with her husband, two children, two dogs, and three cats. When she’s not writing she can usually be found at the dance studio, soccer field, or one of the many other places that she plays ‘Supermom’.