He took my innocence then abandoned me. Now I have to live with him…
Charlotte: It’s been ten years since that night.
I’ve changed so much.
But William Jordan is exactly the same.
Gruff. Arrogant. A cold-hearted billionaire.
He’s also the $exiest guy I’ve ever fricking seen.
I want to keep my head down, find a way to win my business back.
But someone’s got it in for me.
And even though I hate to admit it, William’s the key to figuring this all out.
Unless he’s part of the problem…
William: Charlotte Miller is back in Pine Creek.
That’s bad news.
She doesn’t know the danger she’s in.
Charlie’s the only girl I’ve ever cared for.
Blue eyes, curves, a smile worth more than my billions.
But I can’t fall for her again, can’t let her make me vulnerable.
It could end up killing her.
Besides, any chance we might have had for happiness died when she dated my brother.
And I dated her best friend…
Yet, whenever we’re together, sparks fly, flames re-ignite. I don’t know how to resist.
Even worse, I don’t know if I want to.
This second chance romantic suspense is so hot it’ll have you reaching for ice. No cheating, no cliffhangers. Happily ever after guaranteed.
Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I've always loved second chance romances, and I finally decided to write one. I've tried writing plenty of novels before, but for some reason, this one just stuck!
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I'm drawn to gruff, masterful Alpha males and smart, ambitious female characters. William and Charlotte grew from these archetypes into people with real personalities and passions!
He broke my heart. Tore it in pieces. Took my virginity and left town without any explanation.
And here I was, ten years later, fishing around under his doormat for the key to his old house.
Charlotte, think! Where did Nana say the key was?
I’d been in such a panic when I’d called Nana and told her I was coming to stay that I barely took in anything she said. I’d lost my business, my boyfriend, my apartment, all in the space of a month. My brain had been reduced to something like soup by that point.
She’d definitely said something about a doormat, but the key was nowhere to be found. I glanced around, worried someone might see me, but there was no chance of that. This mansion was in the middle of nowhere. The only person within five miles would be Nana, and she’d be fast asleep, somewhere upstairs.
It was called Valleyside, because of the incredible view over the Creek valley that you could enjoy from the property. Of course it was far too dark right now, but in the daytime, the land seemed to stretch out like a never-ending carpet from the house.
Aha! The plant pot. The plant pot next to the doormat. That’s what Nana had said. I lifted the heavy thing, careful not to get my fingers caught underneath. How the heck had Nana managed to lift this thing to get the key under there in the first place? Maybe she’d started taking steroids in her old age.
There was the key, a little gleam of silver, picked out by the moonlight. I grabbed it and gave a triumphant fist pump, but in truth there was not much to feel triumphant about at all.
The door opened with that same creaky groan that it always had. There was something comforting about that sound. The moment I stepped over the threshold, the smell of the place hit me. It was like stepping back through time.
I reached instinctively for the light switch – it was pitch black in here – but paused. I didn’t want to wake Nana up.
There was still the faint smell of teak oil. I felt a pang of sadness. That was Pop’s smell. Well, not his smell exactly, more the smell of the oil he always used to stain his woodwork. Over the years, it began to seep into him, though: into his skin, his hands. I could scarcely believe this place still smelled of him, after all these years. There was something else too, a much more vibrant scent.
Oh Nana, you sure know how to make a gal feel at home.
As I walked through the entrance, the scale of the place struck me. It seemed smaller now that I’d grown up, but even so, it really was a mansion.
Imagine being so ridiculously wealthy that you could own a place like this but not have to live in it.
That’s the position that he, William — the virginity-stealer — was in. So rich that he probably had a thousand houses. And he hadn’t had to work a day of his life for it, he’d just inherited it all from his father.
I grabbed the bags from the front porch and dumped them inside. Unpacking could wait. Right now I had to hit the hay. The train from New York City had taken hours, and the trek from the station to Valleyside had been a killer. I could already feel how good it would be to sink into the soft mattress of my childhood bed.
The stairs squeaked as I tramped up them. My legs and my butt ached. That’s the thing about Pine Creek. It was very hilly. Compared to NYC it was practically mountainous! It’s the little things about a place that you forget, the tiny details. How it feels to walk around it. When I’d been used to it as a kid, it hadn’t seemed that big of a deal. Now, though…
Maybe a bath was in order. A nice long soak in the tub. I wondered whether Nana would have any bath salts. Maybe some candles! I could put off bed for an hour if it meant having a bath.
What was that noise?
A sharp clacking sound, almost like someone snapping their fingers, but way, way louder than that. It was coming from the part of the house that I never really went into as a child.
The part William had lived in. His wing as he used to call it.
Huh. Nana must be up after all. I wondered what she was doing, and why she was in William’s wing. At the top of the stairs I turned right, to investigate. As I got closer to the source of the smacking, clicking sound, I heard something else — soft music, exotic and jazzy, was playing.
I guess Nana was into jazz these days. Heck, what did I know? Maybe she’d always been into it. I mean, gosh, she’d lived through the heyday of jazz, in the 1950s and 60s. Maybe she was reliving her youth in her old age.
I lifted my hand and gently pushed, getting ready to see my grandmother for the first time in years. The door swung silently open, and so did my mouth.
What on earth? What had I walked in on?
A man, standing at the side of the biggest pool table I’d ever seen. He had his back to me, and he was holding a cue, gently rubbing its tip with chalk.
And he was naked. Totally and utterly naked.
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