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As my mother's 24/7 caregiver, November being National Family Caregiver Month has always been important to me. Not because I want personal recognition for what I do but to help show people that caregiving is more than just medical assistance, that it effects every aspects of a person's life. I would give anything to make it so my mother did not need the assistance but that isn't possible so I do this so she can have the best quality of life and still live in her own home. So I realized that there are stories out there that have caregivers and whether it's a big or small part of the plot doesn't matter, they help show people what caregivers provide all within very entertaining romances and reading experiences.
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Always by RJ Scott
Summary:Single Dads #4
Lives change in an instant, but with family found and forever love, there is always hope.
Impetuously putting his life on the line, Adam saved a child trapped in a car wreck and suffered career-ending injuries. Living with chronic pain, and at his lowest moments, he had friends who wouldn't let him give up, a family who had his back, and even though his future was different from what he'd always planned, he at least had hope. When Cameron and Finn land on his doorstep, he never dreamed that he would fall in love with the small family or that maybe he'd get to be a hero again.
Cameron goes from being a devoted husband to a single dad overnight. With his neatly planned future in ruins, he will do anything to make a new life for his son, even if it means moving to the other side of the country. Renting a room from Adam is the first step in making a home for him and Finn, but falling for the former firefighter was never part of the plan.
The shadows from Cameron's past might take a long time to touch this fragile future, but will he have to face the consequences alone when they do? Or will there always be hope?
First, I want to say as I have said in other reviews for this series, to me there is very few things sexier than a man who cares for a child. So right off the bat watching Cameron care for his little boy, Finn, ticks so many wonderful boxes for me. And of course Finn is an absolute dream. Torn between being a kid and this need to protect his dad, I just love him.
Second, for those who know me outside my blog and/or you have followed my Caregiver Month series posts every November will probably remember that my mom has dealt with chronic pain for over 30 years. I mention that because Adam is adjusting and living life with chronic pain so I tend to be overly critical when this subject is touched upon. Not that I need the subject to be spot on, perfect, without hiccups because it is fiction but it's close to my heart and I do need some semblance of accuracy and respect. There was no need for doubt(not that I really had any) when it comes to RJ Scott, I know she does her research. What Adam felt, said, his inner monologues, his communications with friends, it was all so well written and I'm not exaggerating when I say I had tears in my eyes at times, both because I felt for Adam but also for the level of heart and emotion the author put on every page.
Third, the amount of drama from Cameron's past and Adam's new path is so well balanced with the friendship and romance. I won't go into details but trust me, it works perfectly. Both men are dealing with heartache and rebuilding an uncertain future, for different reasons yes but still they individual futures have been turned on their heads. I'm all for doing for yourself but sometimes you need that missing piece to connect the dots, to light the way, to make everything fit, or a thousand other cliches that may get overused but that doesn't mean they aren't on point. Simply put: Cameron and Adam just fit.
One last point about the chronic pain. As I said, it's my mom who lives with chronic pain and though I have no intentions of ever thinking about this in my parents situation😉 I just want to take a minute to say a special thanks to RJ Scott for going the extra mile when Cameron did his research on sex and chronic pain. It's definitely an aspect that those who haven't lived with it, either themselves or watched a loved one, never even give it a second thought, that the physical intimacy side of a relationship can be devastating both physically and emotionally. So again, thank you, RJ Scott for showing there are ways if you do the research and are incredibly patient.
Always is not only worthy of the author's Single Dads series but it's a truly entertaining, heartfelt emotional gem. For those wondering if Single Dads is a series best read in order or series of standalones, they are standalones as each book deals with a different pairing, friendships factor in so previous main characters pop up and as I'm a series-read-in-order kinda gal I'm glad I've read them from the beginning but no it's certainly not necessary, you won't be lost if you pick and choose or start with Always.
RATING:
Summary:
Hotshots #2
Annabeth Albert’s Hotshots series continues—the emotions and intensity of Chicago Fire with the raw, natural elements of Man vs. Wild.
Smoke jumping is Garrick Nelson’s life. Nothing, not severe injuries nor the brutal physical therapy that follows, is going to stop him from getting back with his crew. But when a lost dog shows up on his front porch, he can’t turn her away, and he can’t take care of her on his own. Thankfully, help comes in the form of his new sexy, dog-loving neighbor. As they work together, trying to re-home their little princess, Garrick can’t resist his growing attraction for the other man, even though he knows this guy isn’t the staying type.
Rain Fisher doesn’t take anything too seriously. He dances through life, one adventure at a time, never settling in one place for too long. When his hot, conveniently buff, neighbor shows up on his doorstep, dog in tow, Rain’s determined to not just save the adorable puppy, but her reluctant owner as well. He never expects their flirtation might tempt him into stay put once and for all...
Danger lurks everywhere for Central Oregon’s fire crews, but the biggest risk of all might be losing their hearts. Don’t miss the Hotshots series from Annabeth Albert: Burn Zone, High Heat, and Feel the Fire.
Always by RJ Scott
Chapter One
Cam
“He was lucky to get away with seven years,” Jim, my exhausted counsel, and only real friend took a seat opposite me in the small room off the main corridor of the courthouse. I hadn’t been able to afford a lawyer of my own, and when Jim had turned up at my door, telling me he was my court-appointed liaison, I was horrified. I needed better representation, but how would I pay for any of it?
Turned out he was the best thing to happen to me. He’d done everything to keep me from being dragged into the case by the DA who insisted I must know things I wasn’t revealing. Hell, I wish I had known something that would help put my husband behind bars because his actions had put Finn—my son—in danger.
How could I know anything when I’d coasted through the last few years in a daze of uncertainty, lies, and pain?
Finn hiccupped a sob into my neck. I held my son so tight that I hoped he felt safe. He didn’t need to hear anything else about what his other dad had done, or how hard Jim had to fight behind the scenes to exclude paper thin lies created by my husband’s team.
The defense had painted Graeme as a solid family man who’d simply found himself caught up in things he had no control over. They’d been lying. If there was one thing the court case had shown everyone it was that Graeme had had all the control all of the time. Over money, and people.
Over me.
Graeme had been born into a rich family, given more money than he knew what to do with and went on to hold a respected position with a group of investment managers who’d courted him as if he were a king. He was a smooth talker, able to con even the most normal of people. Even me.
Pathetic. Idiotic. Blind. Me.
Falling for Graeme had just been step one in a tragic story. I’d fucked up, and I should never have fallen under Graeme’s spell or allowed him to control me as he had.
I’m a strong, principled man who knows right from wrong. I’m a good dad.
Repeat as needed.
“There’s nothing lucky about what happened to us,” I whispered back, aware that Finn, huddled into my side, could hear everything I said, and some of it I never wanted him to know. Thankfully, Finn hadn’t been in court for the long closing statements, sitting instead in this small room with a kindly court officer who’d played computer games with him and fetched him lunch. I’d been on my own to listen to the defense as they lied to explain away what Graeme had done as trying to please his money-obsessed husband. It was apparently my fault. He loved me too much. He wanted to please me. Me? I’d never wanted a single dime of his money.
I wanted a family, a husband who didn’t fuck about on me, a dad for Finn who cared enough to be at home. I didn’t want money, or maids, or a chef who lived half the week in our house, or private schools and exotic holidays, although that was how I was painted. They argued that the pressure on Graeme was intense, and the defense team cited me wanting Italian marble tiles in a bathroom as the straw that broke the camel’s back. I never said anything about a bathroom, let alone tiles.
The lies were many, and through all of it I could see the way people stared at me, one of them, an angry white-haired man, never took his eyes off me. Simon Frederickson had everything going for him—a newly retired pension fund manager he was expecting a retirement full of good things. But, he’d bet everything on Graeme which was the start of his downfall. He’d been a key witness for the prosecution and had given gut-wrenching testimony about how he’d lost everything, his money, security, family, his entire life—and it had all been Graeme’s fault. Simon had become my touchstone in this whole thing. From watching him I could see the lies that would be believed, and the way the jury was slowly buying into the defense’s rhetoric.
It was somehow all my fault, and the way that the witnesses stared at me, Simon included, showed me what they thought.
I could see the point where every single one of them thought I was getting away with hiding money, living the life, and that I needed to pay as well. My only blessing was that there was not a single shred of evidence to say I was involved.
There wouldn’t be, because I wasn’t part of what Graeme had done, unless my naïveté counted. I just wish I could push the guilt away, because they were right in one way—I should have known. Finn shifted in my hold, but it wasn’t to move away, it was to bury himself even closer and I smoothed my hand on his back.
“What next?” I asked Jim, staring right into his eyes, able to see the very moment where optimism and relief died, replaced with defeat.
“The house is gone,” he said.
“We knew it would be.”
The house was where I’d thought we’d be happy, where I thought I could give Finn the life he deserved, where I’d fallen in love. But now, all I could recall was Graeme in the kitchen holding a knife, a lifeless body next to him, as he held a pity party for one where he blamed everything except himself for cold-blooded murder.
How does a man kill another person and not end up behind bars with a life sentence?
The prosecution had wanted him put away for anything they could find. They’d settled for a plea bargain, in exchange for passwords to a multi-million dollar bitcoin account, and now Graeme was locked away for seven years for the white-collar crime of embezzlement. Seemed to me as if other people’s money had helped him again, and I could feel the weight of everyone staring at me in court.
“There’s no money in any accounts, it’s all gone.”
I nodded. Every cent that was legitimately mine was in my backpack—all five thousand dollars that I’d stashed away over the last six months from helping out on small renovations in my spare time. It wasn’t enough to start over, let alone even rent a place, but it would get us a bus ticket away from here.
He held out his hand, and I managed to shake his without dislodging Finn. “It’s been a pleasure working on your behalf.” He crouched in front of us, his round glasses reflecting my image. “Finn?”
Finn stirred in my arms and finally peeked out of my coat, his dark hair mussed and his eyes red from crying. “Yes, sir?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“You’re the bravest boy I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. You look after your daddy if you can, but also, let your daddy look after you. Pinkie swear?” He held out a pinkie, and Finn didn’t hesitate to offer his as they shook, and then Finn buried himself again. With a smile that softened his normally stern face, Jim patted Finn’s knee before nodding to me. “You know how to reach me if you need any advice.”
“Thank you for all you did, Jim. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”
“You’re welcome—I’m not bad for court-appointed counsel, right?” His eyes twinkled, and I winced, recalling our first conversation where I’d told him outright that we needed a real lawyer who could look out for me and Finn. He’d been better than any high priced lawyer I could’ve imagined.
“Not bad at all,” I turned the joke back on myself, and we exchanged smiles. He was filing divorce paperwork as a favor, and I knew I’d never be able to pay him back in this lifetime.
“This is for you,” he held out a large envelope, and I took it without hesitation, used to being passed this and that, and long past questioning anything. “It arrived by courier to our office, but it’s addressed to you. Is it something I need to deal with?”
I needed to open it and see, so sitting on the hard bench with my nine-year-old son crying in my arms, I managed to open the envelope, and pulled out a handwritten note. I skimmed to the name at the bottom—Nick. My chest hollowed with pain. Why was Nick writing me notes when I’d told him to stay out of my life? What did Nick have to do with me right now? As far as I was concerned I’d burned any bridges between me and my best friend a long time ago.
“Cam? Are you okay? You look pale. Do I need to get help?”
I shook my head. “It’s from an old friend.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Only when he was gone did I pull the note out again to read it.
Dear Cam,PLEASE READ.I found a place for you to stay. I promise Finn will be safe from the media circus there. All the details are in the other envelope.Don’t be stubborn about this. Don’t run. You don’t even have to see me. Just come home.Nick.
Inside the other smaller envelope were details of someone called Adam Williams, and an address in La Jolla, San Diego, not far from where I’d grown up in Carlsbad in the same neighborhood as Nick.
Nick had started as my childhood nemesis, then become my very best friend, and even my boyfriend for one night, until a kiss had determined that we were better off as brothers than boyfriends. He’d been the one to support me when I’d adopted Finn—I’d asked him to be Finn’s godfather—that was how much he’d been part of my life. I’d been unnecessarily cruel to Nick when he’d called me just after Graeme had been arrested. He’d asked if I wanted help. I’d still thought my husband was some kind of innocent victim, and with hindsight I’d acted in an emotional form of self-defense. The last thing I needed was Nick to say I-told-you-so because he’d never liked Graeme at all.
I’d asked him to leave me alone, irrationally distrustful and harsh. He’d backed off… so why was he contacting me now? Shocked, worried, uncertain about what I was reading, I sat for the longest time, hugging my son, and spiraling back to that last conversation with Nick when I’d told him that he couldn’t understand what I was going through and to leave me and Finn alone.
How could I face him? Was it even possible that San Diego was the right place to stay for a while? Was it time to go home? Finn and I had been living out of suitcases in a cheap motel, sharing a room for so long it had become our normal, we spent most of our time dodging journalists and people hurt by what Graeme had done. At times I feared for our lives.
So, what is keeping me in New York?
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“What do we do now?”
I didn’t have a clue. New York was nothing to us. No friends. Nowhere to live. No money. And, worst of all, the media frenzy around us that wouldn’t abate for a long while. And in the middle of it all, Finn.
“I think we need to head home.”
He stiffened in my hold, and pulled back. “I don’t want to go there. Can’t we go back to the motel?”
We wouldn’t be going back to that motel now, everything we’d left there was going to stay, not that it was much. I’d already put a plan in place for us to slip away, but never with a destination fixed in my mind. I pressed a kiss to his head. “We already talked about this, you don’t have to worry, we’re not staying in New York and we have plans, right?”
“A horse place in Montana with a river.”
“And a new job for me.”
“And I can get a dog.”
I side-hugged him. “Yep, a dog of your own. But we can’t do that straight away, we need to…” hide, avoid the press, lick our wounds. “… just take some time. Back to my old home, California, then it will be you and me against the world, Finn.”
He processed the information with a frown, his eyes red from crying and his hair in tufts where he’d hidden in my hold. Then he wrapped his arms around my neck, tight as he’d done since last June, over a year ago. Everything in his world had been destroyed, he wasn’t going back to the private school. He didn’t have friends here. It was the two of us, starting over.
“You and me against the world, Finn,” I repeated, and felt his tears hot on my skin.
I’m not sure either of our hearts would heal from this.
But we had to try.
Security guided me to the exit, but determined journalists had gathered outside, a whole mess of them waiting, and I hovered inside, hiding Finn behind me. I could see the road to the train station, and if we could just get there then we could make it anywhere.
I crouched in front of Finn, zipped up his coat, pulled up his hood, and clicked the snaps so that the lower half of his face was hidden and the furry hood shielded his eyes. I did the same with my coat, and then I gripped his hand and pointed out of the front window.
“You remember what we’re doing now.”
“Running away,” he said with renewed confidence.
“It’s the last thing we have to do. Just as we planned, okay, we’re heading for McDonald’s. Can you see it?”
Finn nodded, and swiped at the tears on his face with his free hand.
“Don’t let go of me,” I said. “If you get scared I’ll carry you.”
He was nine, small for his age, I could easily carry him, but he pushed his shoulders back and shook his head.
“No carrying.”
“That’s my boy,” I praised, even as my chest tightened.
Then, we opened the door.
“Cam! Where’s the money?”
“Cameron Hastings! Did you agree with the sentencing?”
“Can you give us an interview, Mr. Hastings?”
“Cam! Over here! Over here! Did you lie for your husband?”
“Is your son okay?”
“Cam! Cam! How is it possible that you don’t know where the missing money is?”
It broke my fucking heart that I didn’t know about the money, or where it’d gone, and that I couldn’t give back what Graeme had stolen. It killed me that people had lost everything, and that somehow I was part of the awful loss they’d experienced. If I’d seen what was happening then maybe I could have done something—stopped him. A blanket of despair settled on my shoulders, and for a second I indulged the hopelessness, before shoving it away. I was going to give Finn a new start, and it didn’t matter about the rest of it—Finn had seen too much, and he needed a safe place where he could learn to be a kid again.
“You fucking asshole!” Simon Frederickson was there, eyes sparking with temper, his lips twisted in a snarl, reaching for me and Finn, and yelling in my face. This wasn’t the first time he’d come at me, but this time I had Finn at my side and I moved to protect him.
“Sir!” Security moved in.
Everything inside me snapped, and I reached out to grip Simon’s arm. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. You have to believe me.”
“I have nothing!” he screamed in my face, and next to me Finn buried himself in my side.
“I wish I could help you.”
“I will make you pay, you fucking lying piece of shit.”
“Sir!” Security bundled him off me, my hold on him ripped away, and then with utter determination I shoved through the crowd. Other security attempted to keep the media away but god knows who else was in this crowd who hated us. I couldn’t breathe until we made it through the barrier which trapped the journalists long enough for us to get to the crossing, over the road, and into McDonald’s. The media followed us, I glanced back to see Simon face down on the sidewalk, the cops there, and I wanted to go back and plead with them to take care of him. He had a family—a wife undergoing cancer treatment, two kids with families of their own, and he had no money. He’d been destroyed more than I was.
Please don’t hurt him. I almost went back.
“Dad?” Finn tugged my sleeve, and that dragged me back from compassion to fear in an instant. I had to keep Finn safe. We took the side door, went through a book store, left via the rear exit, hid in a Starbucks for a few minutes, doubled back on ourselves, and finally I felt we might be free from being followed. Cautiously, I headed for the station, Finn holding my hand, blending in with the tourists, and went straight in with a group to find the lockers, opened the one we’d rented the month before and pulled out our bags. Once inside the bathroom I messed up my styled hair, pulling it down to frame my face, then shoved a scarlet NY beanie on, took off my coat and dumped it on the floor, and then set about helping Finn to reverse his two-sided jacket, adding a matching NY beanie. I changed out of my suit into jeans and a jersey, and then, with Finn watching, I hacked away at the beard I’d let grow long, taking it back to smooth skin as much as I could. All I had in the bags was a couple more change of clothes, all the cash I had left in the world, our passports, and as many of Finn’s baby photos as I could fit.
I don’t know what was in Finn’s bag—I’d let him pack it himself, to take reminders of our old life that would see him through enough until we could go home one day and get more.
Home? It’s not our home anymore.
“You remember what to say if anyone talks to us?” I wrapped the suit and coat in a bundle and pushed it into a plastic bag. I’d drop it with one of the homeless guys outside, surely I could do one more good thing before we vanished.
Finn blinked up at me, his eyes full of tears, but his shoulders were back and determination was written in every line of him. My little man was so brave, even after everything I’d allowed to happen. “I remember. I have to say we’re going to visit family, and I can’t talk to anyone about anything else. Oh, and my name is Finn Bellamy, not Finn Hastings anymore.” He worried at the zipper on his coat and I knew he had something else he wanted to say. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Will people ever stop hating you?”
I thought of all the people searching for someone to blame and turning their gazes on Finn and me. They were right to accuse me of being naïve, they could harass me and call me every name under the sun, but they weren’t touching Finn. I just knew they weren’t going to stop for a long time.
“They will do one day, I’m sure,” I lied, and then patted his head. “Ready for an adventure?”
“I don’t know, Dad, I’m scared.”
My heart cracked and I cradled his face, staring into his dark eyes and wondering what was the best thing to say. I couldn’t exactly say I would never let anything happen to him because I had so let him down, and I couldn’t promise him that everything was going to be okay, because I didn’t know that. So I went with what Finn’s counselor had said—that honesty was the only way to go.
“I’m scared as well.”
His eyes widened, and he grabbed at me. “You are?”
“How about we both pretend we’re not scared, and get on a bus or a train and head away from here?”
He tugged me close for a hug, almost unbalancing me.
“Okay, Dad.”
I hugged him, then bopped his nose and smiled, waiting until he gave me a returning smile, and only after he did was I ready to leave the confines of the bathroom to find a seat on a train or a bus heading anywhere. For better or worse, we had a destination now—San Diego.
One day Finn and I might return to a life in New York, after all it was a big city, but there was something so warm when I thought of heading west to the place I’d been born. All I had in New York was a shit-ton of miserable memories, and a marriage that had gone to hell, catching Finn in its destructive force. I was happy to leave.
We headed out and tried to lose ourselves again, and it was only when we were on the train that I could even think of relaxing a little.
“Hi, is this seat free?” I looked up and all I saw was white hair. My mind made the connection to Simon Frederickson and fear gripped me. My heart raced, but it was just a random guy looking for a seat, that was all. I was losing my shit—seeing phantoms.
“Yeah, sure.”
The man smiled, then sat down and immediately put in ear buds before closing his eyes. Thank goodness he didn’t want to sit and chat because that was the last thing I needed right now.
I just needed time to think. Finn and I could hide out together for a few months, just while I planned a fresh start and got my head straight. Simon wouldn’t know where we were, nor would others like him whom Graeme had wronged. Neither would the media, or the senders of the hate mail that arrived every day, not for a while at least. I hoped we could be anonymous, to give ourselves time.
“Let’s get this adventure started.”
High Heat by Annabeth Albert
Emerging from the bathroom, he pulled up short in front of the bed where a very happy, very sleepy Cookie was lounging against his pillows.
“Hey! I thought I told you to lie on your bed.”
Thump. Thump. Wagging her tail, she gave him a canine grin.
“That’s the people bed. Yours is over there.” He pointed at her bed. “Go lie down.”
Helpfully, she scooted over about ten inches but otherwise didn’t seem inclined to budge.
“Five minutes, okay? Five minutes and then you’re going to your bed.” Sitting next to her, he adjusted the bed’s angle. Replacing his previous cheap king set with this setup had been a bit of a splurge, but it beat the rental hospital bed he’d had at his dad’s. He was a big guy. He needed his space. And he was not prepared to share that space with a stubborn pooch.
“Go lay down,” he tried again after giving her some pats, but all she did was move to the foot of the other side of the bed. Yawning and out of energy, he was no match for a stubborn dog. “Fine, fine. Let’s not tell Rain that you rejected his bed selection.”
Usually nights were hard—his pain level tended to spike at night in unpredictable ways, his sleep could be fitful, and his mind raced through hundreds of dismal scenarios. He’d never had an anxiety problem before the accident, but lately, calming down at night was particularly problematic. If he was physically exhausted, it was easier, but then physical tiredness tended to mean more pain, which meant more sleeplessness, which meant more time for worries to charge back up.
But that night he didn’t even need to play on his phone and was asleep even before he could try again to get Cookie to move. The next thing he knew it was morning—and not crack-of-dawn morning either, but a sunny eight o’clock. A banging noise was coming from the front door.
Had to be Rain come to walk the dog. And sure enough, his phone was full of several missed messages from Rain asking about a time to come over.
“Coming,” he hollered. Hell. No time to get dressed. Letting Cookie lead the way, he used the crutches to get as far as the wheelchair, then switched to the faster method to get to the door.
“Oh, good! You survived the night!” Rain greeted him cheerily. “And uh—wow. Um. You need me to wait a minute?”
Rain’s gaze was riveted to Garrick’s chest in a blatantly appreciative way he hadn’t experienced in months. Damn. Felt good. Too good. And his shorts were hardly designed to conceal his body’s reaction to Rain’s attention if his dick decided to power up like it had last night. Abruptly, he spun away from the door. “Come on in. Sorry. We slept late. Like ten hours. I can’t believe it. That never happens to me.”
“You must have needed it. Did Cookie stay in her bed all night?”
“She stayed quiet,” Garrick hedged, not wanting to hurt his feelings by telling him Cookie had rejected the bed but also not wanting to outright lie either. “She must have needed the rest too. You want to take her out? I’ll find both a shirt and her medication while you’re gone.”
“Sounds great.” Rain bounced on the balls of his feet before fetching the leash from the key rack where he’d hung it the night before. His hair was still up, but messier than the day before, and he was wearing silver shorts and a close-fitting pink T-shirt with several members of that pony show Garrick’s sister’s kids liked, and Squad Goals written under the ponies in swirly script.
“No job interview today?”
“Nope. Didn’t want Miss Cookie feeling bad about being the only one in pink. I figured we could match. And I told you. I like it.” Rain’s eyes were defiant, daring Garrick to object.
“Hey, you wear what you want to wear.” Without coffee on board, he was struggling to sound supportive and not lecherous, because damn. Rain looked good in pink, all warm and glowing. It made his eyes more golden, and somehow the contrast with his sharp jaw did all sorts of interesting things to Garrick’s insides. While his taste in partners could be eclectic, the one unifying feature was usually confidence, because there were few things sexier than a fearless person who knew themselves and what they wanted. He’d already noted Rain’s innate confidence the day before, and today’s outfit choice only made him that much more appealing.
“Good.” Rain clipped the leash to Cookie’s collar. “We’ll be back.”
While they were gone, Garrick found a T-shirt of his own, black and plain because he didn’t have the same need for sparkle as Rain, but man, did he appreciate glam in people who enjoyed it. As he made the coffee, he watched Rain and Cookie coming up the sidewalk at a decent trot, Rain’s mouth moving like he was talking to the dog. Cute. So damn cute. And so very off-limits.
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open--no flashlights required! When she's not adding to her keeper shelf, she's a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.
RJ Scott
BOOKBUB / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
Always by RJ Scott
High Heat by Annabeth Albert
KOBO / WEBSITE / GOODREADS TBR
