👴⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine(Grandparents Day Week)⏳👵: His Grandfather's Watch by NR Walker

Summary:

It was just an ordinary day for Alex Harper at Harper's Antiquities, until Callum Winters walked in with a watch.

"It was my Grandfather's. I was hoping you could tell me something about it."

A love story of two couples, generations apart.

***Second Edition. Earlier edition released in 2012. No additional content has been added.***

Original Review July 2015:
This novella may be a short quick read but it is more powerful than many full length novels I have read.  I was sitting in my front yard under the shade of my maple tree and was so glad I had sunglasses on because otherwise I probably would have scared the children playing across the street when the tears started running.    The blend of contemporary and historical is perfect for the emotional buildup for the story the watch represents.

The historical part of the watch's tale touched my heart a bit more but I am a bit of a history buff so stories of the past usually do.  As my mother's 24/7 caregiver for the past 20 years, when Callum said "My life hasn't been about me in a long time" really struck a chord because in those 10 words she summed up what every caregiver lives not to mention the kind of man Callum is and the fact that Alex understands it also goes a long way in describing his character as well.

I rarely give novellas a full 5 bookmark rating just because my heart prefers full length stories but this is such a powerful emotional ride that nothing short of the full 5 is fitting.

Re-Read Review September 2018:
I really can't think of a single thing to add to my original review that would express how wonderful this novella is other than, it's shortness may be in the number of pages but not in the quality of the story.  His Grandfather's Watch had me even more teary-eyed now than it did when I first read it three years ago.  It is rare that you get two heart felt love stories in a novella but that is exactly what this little gem brings to the table.

I chose to re-read this now in honor of Grandparents Day but whenever you decide to pick it up you won't regret it and I highly recommend reading this one because not only will you be entertained but you might also learn a thing or two about understanding your family's past.  I know I can honestly say that had I not already been deeply invested in my family genealogy this story would have had me itching to discover my family's past.

RATING:

Chapter One
Sitting in the back room at my desk, with a dismantled 1901 Newman's clock, I heard the bell that chimed every time a customer walked through the door. My dad was behind the counter, and I heard him greet the customer, making small talk, discussing whatever antique it was they'd brought with them.

It's what we did.

My father's love of all things antique grew into this business, Harper's Antiquities. Dad was the expert and Mom did the research, but they both traveled, scouring the globe for their life's passion. My brother Scott did antique furniture restoration, but it wasn't something I ever saw myself doing. Then I started helping out when I was a kid at school, and I found a love of clocks.

It’s my specialty.

I could hear Dad talking to the customer, but didn't pay them any mind until I heard my name.

"Alex?"

Putting down the part in my hand, I walked through to the showroom where I found my father and the customer he was talking to. Very different from my pale skin, black hair and grayish eyes, he was a good looking guy, similar age to me, but with sandy brown, kinda longish hair, tanned skin and blue eyes. He was holding a pocket watch in his hand.

"This is my son, Alex," Dad explained. "He's the expert on watches like yours."

I extended my hand in professional courtesy. "Hello."

"Callum Winters," he said by way of greeting, putting the watch on the counter before shaking my hand. There was an accent, Southern I thought, but I wasn't sure.

Dad waited for us to let go of each other's hands, then he looked at me and smiled. "Callum was just telling me he'd like to know more about this watch."

I looked at the silver watch casing and fob chain, then at its owner. I reached my hand toward the watch, but before I touched it, I asked, "May I?"

"Sure," he nodded.

Picking it up, I could tell a few things from a visual inspection. "This casing was a popular design in the 1940's," I told him. Gently, I opened the casing to reveal the quartz face. "The dial is Hamilton, but I won't know dates or maker for certain, unless I take the back off and look at the movement."

"Could you do that?" he asked. His accent was definitely southern. "I was hoping to know as much about it as I could."

I smiled. "Sure. I'll need to grab some details, and I should be able to look at it in about two days. Then I can tell you everything I know."

Callum nodded. "That'd be great." We looked at each other for a little too long, and I couldn't help but wonder if this cute, Southern man was gay.

Dad seemed to think so, because with a cheeky smirk, he handed me the register log, looked between us and not-so subtly said, "Callum, I'll leave you in Alex's very capable hands." He pointed behind us, "I have... stuff... I need to do out the back."

Callum politely thanked him, and I considered kicking my father in the shins. We were behind the counter, so it's not like Callum would have seen me do it. But Dad must have picked up on the look I gave him, because he smiled, turned quickly and disappeared through the door.

I grabbed a pen, handed Callum the register and asked him to fill in his details. I picked up the watch, turning it over in my hands. It was a nice piece, and I couldn't help but ask, "What do you know about the watch?"

He looked up from the paperwork. "Um, it was my grandfather's. That's about all I know."

He handed me the completed form, and I told him as procedure, I required some ID. Taking out his wallet, he handed me his driver's licence. His Texas driver's licence.

"I just moved here," he said. "I've got my change of address receipt here somewhere."

He started looking through his wallet, and I stopped him. "No, its fine. I just need to sight photo ID, that's all."

He smiled kindly and nodded. "So, two days?"

"Yeah. I'm half way through another job. Then I can look at this, and I'll give you a call when I'm done," I told him. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

He shrugged one shoulder and shook his head. "No, not really. Just dates, make, model... to be honest, I'm not really sure."

As I was putting the watch and paperwork in a paper envelope, I asked him, "Would you like a valuation?"

"No," he said simply. "Monetary value isn't important."

He thanked me, I told him I'd be in touch and he left. When I walked back into the workshop, Dad grinned at me. "He was a nice young man," he said.

"Mom!" I yelled to the upstairs office, where my mother would have undoubtedly had her head in a catalogue. "Dad's trying to set me up again."

She yelled back, "Was he cute?"

Oh for crying out loud.

He was actually, but that's not the point. Dad chuckled at me.
Ignoring him, I sat the pocket watch on my desk and turned my attention back to the clock I was working on.

I managed to ignore both my parents and their comments about cute, brown-haired watch owners until they got bored and left me alone. And I managed to push the thoughts of the pocket watch and its handsome Texan owner out of my mind until it was time to go home.

*****

I arrived back at work a little before nine in the morning and headed straight for my desk, which was more like a workstation, when the paper sleeve holding the pocket watch caught my eye.
I picked it up and took the watch out, feeling the cool, heavy weight of it in my hand. I didn't hear my dad come up behind me, and his voice startled me. "How's Mr. Yeo's clock coming along?"

"Oh, shit! You scared me," I said with a laugh, clutching my heart. Then looking back to the clock I had half done, I told him, "Um, it should be ready by lunchtime tomorrow."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I think you should do the watch instead."
I looked at the pocket watch I was still holding. "Why?"

"Because Mr. Yeo is a collector," he replied with a shrug. "To him that clock is just something else he acquired. Even old Mr. Yeo will tell you that. But this," he pointed to the watch in my hand, "this means something."

Dad smiled at me. "Mr. Yeo can wait a day or two. He won't mind. I'll even phone him myself."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He nodded. "He wants me to go with him to look at an 18th Century hand-carved Italian rococo centre table he'd seen at an auction house anyway, so I need to speak to him."

"Okay," I agreed. Within twenty minutes, I had Mr. Yeo's clock itemized and put away and the silver pocket watch in front of me.

I made my usual notes as I proceeded detailing. There was nothing remarkable about it, until I removed the back casing.

Because what I found hidden in the back of the pocket watch was unlike anything I'd encountered before.

I took out the client form with Callum Winters' details on it and picked up the phone. "Callum Winters? It's Alex, from Harper Antiquities. I'm calling about your watch."

"Yes?" he answered, unsure.

"Can you come into the store?" I asked. "There's something you need to see."

NR Walker
N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn't have it any other way.

She is many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things...but likes it even more when they fall in love. She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since...

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👴Monday Mpreg Mania(Grandparents Day Week)👵: Maple Sugar Mix-Up by Kallie Frost

Summary:

Season Three #5

An alpha no omega would want…

Jace has no desire to date; after all, what good is an alpha who can barely afford to take care of himself, let alone a mate? Maybe someday – when he gets his finances under control – he’ll find that special omega.

Despite his money troubles, Jace wants to give back to the hospital, but all he can do is supply something for the bake sale auction. In order to avoid an awkward cheap date with an omega, he agrees to make his popular maple sugar candy, but only under the condition that his friend bids for the item. Jace helps and doesn’t have to go on a date; problem solved. But he never expected someone to outbid his friend…

An omega who can do it alone…

Omega Ashton is thrilled to donate to the hospital that saved him and his daughter. When he sees the maple sugar candy – just like his grandmother used to make – he has to have it, luckily, money is no object; the only downside is the unwanted date that comes with it.

Ashton is so over alphaholes who date him for his money but also feel threatened by it. Worse than the ones who break his heart are the ones he trusts enough to introduce to his daughter, only to have them leave too. No more. Ashton is finished with dating.

Once on the date, however, Ashton and Jace can’t deny the chemistry between them. But will Jace’s insecurity over his financial situation be an all too familiar red flag for Ashton? Throw in some unexpected ice and a broken ankle and you have a recipe for a love story sweeter than candy.

Maple Sugar Mix-Up is an M/M mpreg romance in the Bake Sale Bachelors series. Each one can be read as a standalone. In this book you’ll find an alpha learning he’s worth more than what’s in his bank account, an omega doing his best as a single dad, and the surprise baby who brings them together. If you love books that are sweet with heat and full of characters who you’ll laugh and love with, get Maple Sugar Mix-Up today.

Original Review February 2024:

I'm still fairly new to the omegaverse so my experience is limited for comparisons but I've loved everything so far and Maple Sugar Mix-Up is no different. Perhaps a bit different as Kallie Frost is also a new-to-me author so in a way Maple is doubly fresh and exciting.

One thing that was completely new to me(and again limited experience here😉) was the role reversal of  financial and status structure in this novella. Completely polar opposites of what one tends to think of when dealing with alpha/omega pairings.  I can understand Ashton and Jace's hesitancies due to the whole station-in-life labeling.  The emotions behind Ashton and Jace's scenario adds a lovely hint of realism to an already entertaining and delicious blend of fiction and fantasy.

Maple Sugar Mix-Up is a delightful novella that warms the heart, soothes your soul, and put a giggle or two on your face.  

**Blogger Note:  Unfortunately I only had time to read this entry but it lead me to place the entire season on my #TBRList.**

RATING:

Chapter One

Jace

The flyer caught my eye and I stopped to study it. A bake sale auction to benefit the children's wing of the hospital! Well, that sounded like a great cause.

While I was reading it my friend and co-worker – if you could consider our very different jobs as co-working – walked by.

“Hey Jace,” he said. “Gonna make something?”

“I think so, Paul,” I said, glancing at the flyer again.

“What are you going to do for the date?”

I double-checked the date of the auction. “It’s on February 14th,” I said.

Paul chucked. “No, the date.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“Read the fine print,” he suggested.

I turned back to the flyer. Sure enough, there was something I had missed; the auction wasn't just for baked goods, it was for a date with the baker.

“Oh,” I said in disappointment. Count me out of this one. “Nevermind.”

I readjusted the way I was carrying my armload of medical files and stepped away from the bulletin board. It was a shame. I didn't have any spare change lying around to give to the hospital, but they were doing great things in the children's wing and I would have loved to be able to support them somehow. Baking would have been a good way to contribute.

“You’re single, aren’t you?” asked Paul.

“By choice,” I said.

“It’s just a date,” he laughed. “Not a commitment.”

“I know…” I took one more look at the flyer.

Sure, it wasn’t a commitment, but as the alpha hosting the date I’d be expected to pay and I sure as hell didn’t have that kind of money. Even if I did have enough to scrape together for a date, there weren’t a lot of omegas who would be very happy with an alpha who could barely afford a night out. It was an alpha’s duty to care for his omega, not to mention their future family.

I hated to admit it, but I could hardly take care of myself. There were days where I ate all three meals in the hospital cafeteria because I couldn’t afford groceries. What omega would want a guy like me?

“You know I can’t afford a fancy date,” I muttered.

Paul may have known, but I was still embarrassed, especially since he had a sweet scholarship that paid for his med school tuition and I knew what he was making now as a doctor.

“It doesn’t say it has to be fancy,” Paul pointed out. “Do something cheap.”

I looked at him skeptically. “Did you see where it’s being held? It’s like the fanciest place in town. Any omega there bidding on a date is not going to be impressed with something cheap. They’re all way out of my league.”

“You're so old fashioned,” Paul snorted. “There are plenty of omegas out there who earn more than their alphas.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I grumbled, shaking my stack of medical files in his direction. “You’re already happily married to a stay-at-home-omega.”

“I didn’t go traditional by choice; we fell in love and that’s just how it worked out,” said Paul. “Believe me, Jace, when you meet the right omega, he isn’t going to care how much money you have.”

He was right; I knew that, I really did. But my parents had been strictly traditional when it came to alpha and omega roles. The idea that I would be the one providing for my omega had been drummed into me since I was old enough to know what an omega was.

My parents would have been absolutely mortified if I even considered being with an omega who was financially above my station. Then again, they would also have been mortified by my current living conditions, which were well below the standards they would have set for an alpha. On the bright side, they weren't around anymore to know.

And on the other side of that, their untimely deaths had come with a lot of unforeseen financial complications that left me scrambling to make ends meet before they were even in the ground.

“I should get back to work,” I said, adjusting my pile one more time.

“I’ll bid on you,” Paul said just as I started off.

“What?” I asked, turning back in confusion.

Paul laughed and pointed to the flyer. “I was going to donate anyway. Allie isn’t big on baking and I think she’d be pretty jealous if I tried to set up a date with an omega for myself… so, you bake something, put it on the auction table, and I’ll bid on it. Then we both get to contribute and you don’t have to go on a date.”

“You don’t have to do that to make me feel better.”

“I guarantee I'll spend more bidding on whatever you make than I would just flat out donate. Hell, I’ll keep a number in mind and if I end up bidding less, I’ll donate the remainder anyway. And if it costs me more, everyone wins.”

I did want to do my part and help out. And there weren’t many other ways I could contribute, short of kicking ass as a receptionist.

“Tell you what,” I said, not quite believing I was agreeing. “You promise to place the winning bid and I’ll do it.”

“Deal,” said Paul. I heard a beep and he pulled out his phone and checked it. “Gotta run.”

“Later, Doc.”

~~~***~~~

Before I knew it, the day of the auction arrived and I headed over with my chosen treat: maple candy.

As soon as I saw some of the fancy selections, I knew I had made the right choice. My maple candy was plain and boring; exactly what I needed to avoid people bidding on it. The only decoration, if you could call it that, was the ivy leaf shape mold I used. My grandmother had spend years wasting time with a maple leaf mold that only made six at a time. When she found an eighteen-piece mold, she was so excited she didn’t realize it was ivy and not maple leaves. Her baking partner, and best friend, had loved them, so they turned it into their own little inside joke and kept using them. The pan had been passed down to me and I was happy to keep using it.

I smiled fondly at the memory of standing over the stove with Grandma Sophia; eager to lick the spoon when she was done. She always brought a jug of fresh maple syrup when she came to visit and we made the maple candy together.

“And this is?” asked the woman checking me in.

“Maple candy,” I said.

She arched an eyebrow at me, then wrote it down. I wondered if everything else had a fancy name. Good, one less thing to attract an omega.

“What’s your designation?”

“Alpha.”

“And the date?” she asked.

“Um… It’s February…” I started to pull out my phone to check.

“No,” she said, stifling a laugh. “The date for the auction.” She jabbed her pen toward one of the cards on a fancy basket.

I leaned over to read it.

Roasted Almond Toffee Chocolates. Dinner at the Opera House.

Crap. I racked my brains, trying to think of a date that would be that would be unappealing. Not to mention cheap. If, for some reason, Paul couldn’t bid or something I needed a date I’d have to actually be able to follow through with.

I thought immediately of my favorite coffee shop. It had free refills, as long as you were drinking black, and tons of used books to peruse. They were rarely crowded and almost never kicked you out before closing to make room. Better yet, when I knew the barista – and I usually did – they’d refill my coffee even if I had something a little fancier and a free unsold baked good or two before closing.

“Coffee and sandwiches at the Mill Street Coffee Shop,” I said. “Tomorrow night.”

Short notice was good too, to minimize bidding.

“The Mill Street Coffee Shop…” she echoed. “And… then?”

“That’s it,” I said, forcing my smile to stay fixed.

“Okay…”

“When they call yours, you go up on stage for the bidding,” she started to say.

“I’m not staying,” I said quickly. “I uh… have to work.”

“Right,” she muttered. “And I need your contact information so the omega can contact you for the date details.”

I sighed and gave her the information, then pushed out through the well-dressed crowd. With any luck Paul would place a decent bid and make this all worth it; I’d contribute to the Children’s Hospital and I had an excuse to make Grandma’s maple candy.

I headed back to my crummy apartment and, with nothing better to do, decided to read some old favorite, comfort books. Since I was thinking of my grandmother, I grabbed a mystery novel by Victoria Peppers. Although I had never been fortunate enough to meet her, she had been my grandmother’s best friend – the same one she baked maple candy with, in fact. They were so close that Victoria had even given her some of her manuscripts, long before she was published.

Grandma Sophia used to read them to me and passed her love of mystery books on. Not only did I devour them, but I also tried my hand at writing them. Of course, none of my crappy stories would ever see the light of day, especially the ones that borrowed Victoria Peppers’ sleuths and settings. Okay, so maybe I didn’t write books, so much as fanfiction.

Nevertheless, I still read every Victoria Peppers mystery as it came out, even though she had passed some years ago and her daughter had taken over writing them. In my opinion, they were just as good as the originals.

Tonight, however, I chose one of the old classics Victoria had written by herself; one my grandmother had loved.

Once I was settled in and reading, with some extra maple candy to snack on, I almost forgot about the auction.

Then my phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number, but I answered anyway in case it was the hospital; it wasn’t uncommon to get called in to help with busy shifts. With all of the ice and snow we had been seeing an increase in patients.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Jace Wagner?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m Ashton Basque. I won your maple candy and was calling to uh…”

My stomach dropped out from under me. “I’m sorry, what?” I said.

“I bid on your maple candy at the auction. For the children’s hospital? I won and was told to contact you to arrange the date.”

I clenched the phone and sucked in a sharp breath. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“It’s tomorrow night. Um, at eight. At the Mill Street Coffee Shop. It’s in the—”

“I know where it is.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said reluctantly.

“See you then.” There was something flat and wholly unenthusiastic about his voice.

I hung up and nearly chucked my phone across my small apartment. “Are you kidding me?!” I spat instead.

I quickly dial Paul's number.

“Dr. Sullyfield.”

“Paul, what the hell?!” I demanded.

“Sorry?”

“An omega just called me! He said he won my maple candy and wanted to set up the date.”

“Oh,” Paul groaned. “I was gonna call you, I guess he's on the ball.”

“On the ball?” I snorted. “What happened?!”

“He outbid me.”

“You promised!”

“I know,” Paul groaned. “It was just…”

“Tell me this wasn’t some complicated scheme to rope me into a date,” I growled.

“No, no. He was a former patient and he really wanted the maple candy and… Look, I’m sorry, really. It’s just one date. He’s sweet.”

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered.

“One date. It won’t be the end of the world.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you at work.”

I hung up with a groan. Who was this omega? I had the plainest candy and the cheapest, most boring date, and he bid on it anyway?

Not to say an evening in a quiet coffee shop wasn’t an ideal date in my opinion, but I didn't think it would have been that appealing to most people. This was going to be nothing short of embarrassing.

With a sign, I sagged down onto my couch, trying to avoid the spots where the uncomfortable springs poked up. I tried to remind myself that Paul was right; it was just one date. One night and then done. With that in mind, I sought out the last couple pieces of maple candy and munched on them to make myself feel better.

Saturday Series Spotlight

Season One

Part 1(Xmas Edition)  /  Part 2

Season Two

Part 1(Xmas Edition)

Season Three(Valentine's Edition)

Part 1  /  Part 2

Kallie Frost

Kallie is the pseudonym of a USA Today Bestselling Author who normally writes young adult fantasy and dabbles in paranormal romance. She loves animals of all kinds, so she loves reading and writing books with shifter themes. Her favorite time to write is late at night when her husband and kids are asleep and everything is quiet. During the day she can be found chasing her boys, baking, and talking to herself.

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Maple Sugar Mix-Up

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July Book of the Month: Be My Ruin by Davidson King

Summary:

Be Mine #2

Gideon has had complete control of the town and state he lives in for two years, and powerful people answer to him. His twins are thriving, his love for Penn is unshakable, and life is good…until the glass shatters and it all comes crashing down. He’s forced to fight back, which risks not only his empire but the lives of those he loves.

Penn’s life is nothing like he imagined it would be. He has the love of a gorgeous man, the adoration of his twins, and a family who, though meddling at times, would jump in front of a bullet for him. It doesn’t matter that Penn feels no pain or fear; they treat him like he’s fragile, and sometimes he’s okay with that. But when danger rolls into town, threatening those he loves and the life he’s built, he wonders if this feeling that’s leaving him so cold could be fear.

Gideon and Penn’s happily ever after is tested as everything around them crumbles, lives are destroyed, and empires fall. No strangers to fighting for what’s theirs, they find themselves facing an enemy like no other before. Their love has burned so bright, but when the last shot has been fired, it could mean their end.

Be My Ruin is book 2 in my Be Mine Series. It’s recommended you read book 1, Be My Monster first.

Equally brilliant as the first in the author's newest series, Be Mine, further cementing her crown as the Queen of Mayhem.  I was completely blown away. On one hand you have an idea what to expect because you are already familiar with the characters and setting but on the other hand, the blend of dark, suspense, and heart reached even newer heights.  Top notch all the way around.

I won't spoil anything, especially if you haven't read Be My Monster but I will briefly once again mention Penn's health and the importance behind it and just how accurately Davidson King writes it. Penn lives with the gene mutation, FAAH-OUT, now I have no personal dealings with that issue, I do however have extensive experience with peripheral neuropathy with both of my parents. So even though I don't know what complete lack of pain is I do understand having no feeling in your extremities which is equally dangerous. Not knowing you ran your finger through boiling water, snipped a chunk of skin when clipping your fingernails, cutting your leg, these are all things I've dealt with so I understand Penn's nightly perusal of his body to see if there are any new abrasions or injuries. As I did in my review for Monster, I want to thank Davidson King for showing proper respect for pain(or lack of there of) and the need to recognize it's source so you can heal properly. 

On to Be My Ruin.  What's not to love? If dark elements and violence are triggers, you may want to tread carefully or reach out to the author for clarity, but if not then I can't imagine not loving this tale.  Penn and Gideon are living a life of happiness, I won't say "carefree" or even "quiet", those words really don't exist is their world but its been closer to status quo than chaotic in recent months.  

That's about to change😉.

I tagged this as "single dad" but Penn is very much a father figure to Gideon's twins and very "uncley" to Matteo, he would risk everything for those kids because they have his heart.  Gideon of course will do anything for his family and he makes no secret of just how far that "anything" goes.  There are those out there who would call that a liability or weakness but in truth they just don't have any idea of the retribution they are about to unleash.  And those moments are deliciously satisfying to this reader.

This is just a personal observation and total guess, but I can't help but think the author took some extra delight in the bad guy being a politician, knowing where the endgame would be😉😉.  I don't know if the author's thought process went there but I do know mine sure did.  Talking about the bad guy makes me think of the mayhem and suspense, since we know who that big bad is early on you might think there is little in the way of surprises in the who category, well you'd be wrong. I narrowed it down to 2 people and frankly, I'm glad the author took the path she did, both would have been entertaining but this path leads to emotional hiccups reaching far past the covers of Ruin.  Vague I know but again, no spoilers.

As I started with, brilliant all the way around.

I beleive the author recently announced that Be Mine is set to be a four book series and the next entry will focus on another couple in Gideon and Penn's world but I won't say who so it doesn't spoil anything here. I will say, as much as I will miss Gid & Penn not being front and center, I am definitely looking forward to the next couple's journey.

RATING:

CHAPTER ONE

Gideon

“Night, Daddy.” Olivia beamed at me from her bed, her curly reddish hair fanning out over the pillow and her tired brown eyes holding the lingering excitement from the day.

“Night, Livy. Happy birthday.” I couldn’t believe the twins were seven now. The last two years had flown by in a great way.

“Thanks for the bestest day ever!”

I chuckled. “Sweet dreams.”

I closed the door and passed Owen’s room. He’d fallen asleep an hour ago while watching television downstairs, so I knew he was out cold.

The house was quieter since Dean, Rita, and Matteo had moved out. Their home had finally been rebuilt after the devastating fire that had almost claimed the lives of my children and nephew a couple of years ago. I often thought of that time, how I’d come so close to never hearing their laughter or seeing their excitement. Milestones that had almost never happened. There was only one reason the three of them were still alive and thriving today, and he was currently standing in front of the long mirror in our bedroom, naked.

It was part of his nightly ritual. The gene mutation, FAAH-OUT, had left him with the inability to feel pain or fear. Because of that, he had to do thorough checks of himself, take his temperature often and, at the insistence of my sister-in-law, Rita, go to the doctor often for in-depth physicals that often led to full-body MRIs. Her defense was: If he had something wrong inside, how would he know? That was a scary thought, and no one tended to argue with her.

Penn never disagreed with Rita, often letting her have her way, and he knew all the medical fussing was because she loved him. As much as I hated the fact that he had to check himself daily, it was one of my favorite parts of the day.

Pennsylvania Garrand’s body was a work of art. He stood at six foot two to my six foot five. His skin was perfectly tanned due to the summer and he was muscular, toned, whatever you called it. He exercised some, but he loved to do projects outside—much to the dislike of my landscaper and gardener. He kept his hair buzzed, and I knew that was so it was easier to see his scalp for issues, but it suited him. Through the reflection, his piercing green eyes were assessing his skin and hadn’t noticed me enjoying the show.

He was about to turn around to check out his ass, and I took that as my cue.

“Let me help you with this part.”

He met my gaze in the mirror and smirked. “I can do it.”

I hummed. “I know you can, but where’s the fun in that?”

He held out his arms and legs wide, looking like Leonardo Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. I closed the bedroom door and sauntered over to my gorgeous man.

“Now, try and stay still so I don’t miss a single spot. This is important work I’m doing.”

He snorted. “Mmhmm, okay, Mr. Hendrix. Whatever you say.”

I slapped his ass, but he didn’t flinch. “Sometimes it’s annoying that I can’t give you a spanking.”

He shrugged as best he could in his position. “I mean, you can, but I won’t feel the sting. However, your hands on me…that would do something, for sure.”

I pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, flattened my hands on his back, and slowly went to my knees behind him.

Penn’s ass was like a plump Georgia peach—more muscular, but I wanted to sink my teeth right in. I leaned closer and did just that.

“You’re supposed to be checking me for injury, not inflicting it.” I glanced up and saw him watching me over his shoulder.

“Excuse me, I’m a professional. Turn around and let me do my work.”

“So sorry to interrupt; continue.”

I placed one hand on each cheek and squeezed. “Damn,” I whispered.

“You act like you don’t do this every night.” Penn’s voice was alight with amusement.

“Shush, working.”

Penn’s body shook with laughter, and I smiled. I loved this man with everything I was and three years ago, that had not been something I’d ever believed would happen. After Ella died, I’d been sure my heart had shriveled up and gone. Then Penn had stormed into my life like a savior in the night and stolen it. My kids—hell, my whole family adored him, and Penn loved them in return.

I spread his cheeks open and gently blew against his hole, loving how it reacted.

“Gideon.” Penn’s voice deepened, and the quiver I was so familiar with told me he needed more.

So that was what I’d give him. I pressed my tongue against his delicious hole and ate Penn out as if he were my last meal. I savored his taste, smell, and feel. No part of this man wasn’t perfect to me.

Penn was now tilting forward, pushing his ass into my face, riding it, begging for more.

“Shit, Gid, you gotta fuck me, please.”

I sat back and licked my lips. “Get on the bed,” I growled.

Penn moved and fell onto the bed, facing me, his legs spread, a bottle of lube in his hand.

“When did you get that?” I asked as I removed my clothes as quickly as possible.

“Like I didn’t know you were going to come in here.” He brought his finger to his hole and tapped it. “Now I want you to come in here.”

“Fuck, Penn.” I grabbed the lube. I opened it and slathered my dick while I watched as Penn fingered himself, readying for the pounding he knew I’d give him.

Unable to wait any longer, I smacked his hand away, earning a laugh from the man, and pressed the head of my cock against his hole.

“I love you,” I said, and the moment he opened his mouth, likely to return the sentiment, I slammed into him, turning his “I love you” into a deliciously erotic moan.

One knee on the bed, hands on his ankles keeping him nice and wide, I drove into him relentlessly. His skin glistened with sweat and, desperate to taste it, I licked his ankle.

“Fuuuuck, Gideon, I’m gonna come.”

He was rock hard. I let go of one of his legs and fisted his cock. “Yeah, you gonna come for me, baby?”

“God, yessssssssss.”

“Give it to me; I want to see it. Then I’m gonna drink it up.”

He arched up and sprayed across his chest, hitting his chin. I pounded into him a few more times before my orgasm spilled inside him and I collapsed on top of him.

“Holy fuck, how does it get better each time?” Penn mumbled.

“Fuck if I know, but not complaining.”

He chuckled and when I lifted my head, his green eyes met mine.

“You forgot something.” Penn quirked a brow.

“What?”

He lifted a come-covered finger to my lips. “You said you were gonna drink it up.”

I grinned and stuck out my tongue. “Feed it to me, baby.” And he did, not missing one drop.

Monster  /  Ruin

Davidson King

Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.

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Be My Ruin #2

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Saturday's Series Spotlight: Romancing the . . . by Clare London Part 2

Romancing the Undercover Millionaire #3

Summary:

Can poverty and privilege find a loving compromise?

Alexandre Bonfils, a rich and spoiled second son, is tired of being ignored and decides to help when the family’s exclusive wine business is in trouble. Going undercover in the warehouse, he loves the adventure—and the chance to be close to the sassy and sexy manager, Tate Somerton.

Tate is hardworking and financially struggling, bringing up his siblings on his own. A suspected saboteur at work is his latest challenge, but now he also has a clueless, though very attractive, new intern. There’s an immediate spark between the ill-matched couple, until a shocking accident cuts short Alex’s amateur sleuthing.

While recovering in the generous care of Tate and his family, will Alex realise what belonging really means? Passion and pride come together to fight for the company they’re both committed to preserving, but can a personal bond remain when the dust settles?

This story offers you a spoiled yet cutely redeemable millionaire, a selfless hero who’s always put his family above his love life, the glamorous world of luxury winemaking, ‘found’ family, a devious gran, a no-nonsense warehouse manager with a hot chocolate addiction, and a saboteur who must be found before disaster strikes!

Author Note: this is the same book as previously published by Dreamspinner Press, but with a new cover, and now published by the author.

Romancing the Rough Draft #4

Summary:

Where trust is the most precious jewel of all.

When Mayfair jewellers Starsmith Stones wins the commission for a British gay royal wedding, CEO Joel Sterling is recommended to the brilliant young designer Matt Barth—only to discover Matt’s the man with whom he shared an anonymous and passionate kiss on the celebration night.

Disenchanted with the commercial jewellery industry, Matt nowadays prefers muddy archaeological digs to designing. Openly resentful of Starsmith’s hostile takeover of his family’s firm, he is horrified at the realisation he’ll be working with the man who engineered that deal—but the opportunity to create something fabulous and unique for the royal couple is too tempting to refuse.

Working as a team reignites the spark between Joel and Matt. But when betrayal from within Starsmith threatens both the project and Joel’s confidence, will they have built enough trust to keep their newfound love as precious as the royal jewels?

**This story offers you a gruff designer who prefers digging for treasure, a smooth CEO who’s too used to his own company, the glamorous Mayfair world of expensive jewellery, enemies to lovers, a gay royal couple who are fond of mischief, and an embarrassing accident on the Buckingham Palace railings!**

Note: this is the same book as previously published by Dreamspinner Press, but with a new cover, and now published by the author.

Romancing the Undercover Millionaire #3

Arriving in the warehouse at ten past nine, Tate took up position just outside his office, watching through the open door as Percy interviewed the new intern inside. Or, at least, that’s how it was meant to go. The company had regular intern programmes, in several disciplines, and a few weeks in the warehouse was a critical part of every schedule.

Percy glanced at the paper in front of him. “So. Goodson.”

“You may call me Alex.”

Percy pointedly ignored that.

“Excuse me, but is this the right place? They told me I had to report in to the manager, Mr. Somerton, for training.” The guy in the chair peered at Percy’s name tag. “Mr. Grove, is it?”

“I’m doin’ the interview, boy.”

Alex Goodson raised his eyebrows. “Ah. Okay. As you wish.”

Tate could see it took Percy a lot of effort not to roll his eyes. He didn’t suffer fools gladly. This was possibly why Tate did many of the interviews and was official liaison for the interns. But no one could better Percy in sizing up a new guy within a matter of minutes, and he’d rarely been proved wrong.

At the moment, the new kid was concentrating on Percy and unaware of Tate’s scrutiny. Well, he was no kid really, which was the first surprise. They usually got school leavers or university graduates, whereas this man looked a similar age to Tate. Maybe he was making a career change or coming back into the workplace after a break. Watching the way Alex Goodson twirled the temporary security pass on its lanyard like a novelty toy he’d never seen before, Tate reckoned it was the latter.

And, shit, but he was good-looking. Tate could see enough of the guy’s face from his angled viewpoint and couldn’t resist taking a longer look than his role as training supervisor merited. Alex had lovely grey eyes, a strong jaw, and fine mahogany-brown hair with a slight curl. It was ridiculously shiny, like those heads on hair product adverts, and so evenly shaded Tate wondered for a random moment if he dyed it. Even more randomly, Tate’s fingers all but itched to run through it. What the hell? He shoved his hands into his pockets to try to redirect his attention. He hadn’t felt such an immediate, physical response to someone for a long time.

The second surprise was how confident Alex looked: no sign of the usual nervous desire to make a good impression common to most interns. He wore a pair of dark-rimmed spectacles, which he awkwardly pushed back up his nose a couple of times, but his gaze was bright and fixed steadily on Percy as if he were his equal. Not that Tate didn’t believe in equality for all, at heart, but there was a certain respect you were expected to show your supervisor. And definitely toward Percy, who had a whole bunch of opinions about how anyone younger than him—which included almost all the warehouse and probably Mr. Charles himself—should behave toward their elders.

Tate bit back a smile. He could see Percy was resisting glancing at Tate over Alex’s shoulder. Well, if that was Percy’s game, to ignore Tate’s presence for the moment, this could turn into quite an entertainment.

“Thank God,” Alex said cheerfully, with a nod at Percy’s chest.

“I’m sorry?” Percy’s tone was at its deepest, most no-nonsense best.

“No ghastly nylon overalls,” Alex said. “You’re wearing a branded polo shirt. I assume they do it in slim fit as well?”

Tate blinked, trying desperately not to laugh. Percy’s shirt strained over his broad chest and ever-increasing stomach. Percy’s favourite snack was donuts, and even he knew that was beginning to show.

Percy cleared his throat in what Tate knew—but this poor sap Goodson had no idea—was a menacing way. “Where’s y’ employee manual?”

“Sorry?”

Percy gestured dismissively at Alex’s empty hands, resting casually in his lap. “Y’ pick it up in HR before y’ start. Plenty of youngsters have already read through it before I meet them.” The disapproval was strongly implied. “Y’ don’t think y’ need to swot up on it, boy?”

Alex stared at him as if something hadn’t yet connected mentally. “What’s that word you keep calling me? Bye? Oh….” He nodded, as if praising himself for being so perceptive. “You mean boy. Is that a true Bristolian accent? That lilt at the end of a sentence—”

“Manual!” Percy snapped. “Y’ hear me?”

Alex seemed at last to pick up on the seriousness of Percy’s tone. “Sorry. I mean, yes, I have one. I picked it up before the weekend and have already perused it fully.”

“Perooosed it, have y’?”

Alex raised one rather well-groomed eyebrow. “I signed all the necessary forms, too. Did HR’s confirmation get lost in transit?” He glanced quickly over the messy pile of papers on the desk—filing was going to have been Tate’s first job this morning—and for a moment, his lips pursed. Then he glanced up again and caught the look in Percy’s eye. He had the grace to colour slightly. “Never mind. I’m sure you have it all in hand.”

Percy’s raised eyebrows spoke far more eloquently than his words. “So now we’ve cleared that up to y’r satisfaction, y’ can get on with the work. Y’ll shadow Jamie today, under my close supervision.”

Tate knew that look of Percy’s. It was the one that made new staff feel twelve years old, caught with an illicit smoke behind the bike shed. Alex Goodson, intriguingly, just smiled. Was he brave, or genuinely clueless?

“And when will I meet Mr. Somerton?” he asked.

Percy stood, straightening his shoulders. “Mr. Somerton is busy elsewhere.”

I am? Tate assumed this was another of Percy’s games. It seemed Alex Goodson had really rubbed the old man up the wrong way.

Alex stood as well. He looked a bit bemused. Percy leaned forward on the desk and spoke more slowly to him. “They told y’ about the trainin’ programme, right?”

“Right. Training. Of course. Is that before or after lunch?”

Percy’s swallow of disgust was audible. “The programme will extend over several weeks. Mr. Somerton insists on it.”

“He does?”

“He does. Jamie’s only a new boy himself, but I can’t spare anyone else to keep an eye on y’ today. We’re expecting deliveries. I suppose if y’ pick up any bad habits today…” Percy’s resigned expression showed just how very certain he was of that. “… Mr. Somerton’ll have to retrain y’, however inconvenient that’ll be for him.”

“Mr. Somerton sounds a pain in the arse, right?” Alex grinned.

Tate bit his lower lip, the chuckle inside him begging to be let out.

Percy scowled. “Better watch y’r p’s and q’s, Goodson. We respect management around here.”

To give Alex his due, he realised his mistake quickly. “Of course. I’m totally sure I’ll soon pick it all up, Mr. Grove.”

Percy paused, probably just long enough for Alex to start wondering what he’d done wrong now, then he nodded. “Percy.”

“Uh… sorry?”

“Call me Percy, for God’s sake. Mr. Grove sounds like y’re talking to my old dad.”

To Tate’s surprise—again—Alex grinned. “I know the feeling.” He stuck out his hand and firmly shook Percy’s. “Thanks, Percy. I look forward to working with you.”

Percy growled in the back of his throat. “For me, boy.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant. For you.” Alex nodded, but nothing in his tone suggested he was apologetic.

Tate couldn’t help it—he laughed softly.

Alex spun around. From the startled look on his face, he’d only just realised someone else was behind him. “Sorry, who are you?”

Tate gave his most cheesy smile and took Alex’s hand in a formal shake. “I’m Tate Somerton, Percy’s manager. Percy’s just been keeping my seat warm.”

Alex gaped. “Mr. Somerton? But you’re….”

Too young? Tate mentally filled in the gap as Alex’s sentence trailed off. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken for nothing more than the tea boy. He knew he could look younger than his age, and—yes, Lou was right—he could have had a smarter haircut and worn more professional clothes. But he spent his days driving forklifts and climbing over and under pallets, and as long as he did a good job with the warehouse staff, no one minded him dressing in the same smart casual wear.

“Um. What I said earlier?” Alex looked a little disturbed, obviously not sure how much Tate might have overheard. “I suppose I may have been a tad out of line.”

Tate shrugged. It was an apology of sorts. “What matters to me is that everyone does their best in the job. If you shirk, or cause trouble, well… that’s a different matter.”

Alex was still staring at him. He also hadn’t let go of Tate’s hand. For one long, pregnant moment, their gazes locked.

Tate knew he shouldn’t be devouring Alex’s attention like he was—it was rude, he didn’t behave like this, at least he hadn’t before, he didn’t even know if the guy was gay, and he’d never thought about dating a fellow employee before, that would be unprofessional, right? And oh God, even his mind was rambling—but he couldn’t seem to look away.

Alex’s hand shifted very slightly, but enough for his thumb to brush the palm of Tate’s hand as he let go, almost reluctantly. A small smile teased the edge of his handsome mouth. “Mr. Somerton, may I say—?”

“No, y’ bloody may not!” Percy snapped into his ear, having borne down on him without either Tate or Alex noticing.

Alex gave a small, embarrassing yelp.

Tate bit his lip to stop from laughing. “Welcome to the firm, Alex,” he said briskly, and turned away.

Romancing the Rough Draft #4

So now Matt was here, in Starsmith’s Mayfair offices, where not only had they disinherited him, they were trying to make him look a fool. He should leave at once. He glared at Joel Sterling, tall, beautifully suited as before, his gaze assessing Matt just as closely, that fine nose, the lush mouth….

Matt found himself still rooted to the spot, though God knew why.

“This is… surprising,” Joel said. He seemed a picture of calm control, but Matt noticed his hand shook slightly when he put his glass of water back down on the table. “It’s important we talk this through and clear the air—”

“I thought you were just a salesman,” Matt broke in angrily. “Called Joe.”

“Joe…? Oh.” Joel flushed a little. “I’m sorry. You must have misheard me. I didn’t lie. As I remember, you were all for just first names. We both agreed.”

“That’s true. You didn’t lie about that.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.” Joel’s eyes narrowed. “Like the fact that I run Starsmith. I’ve been in the industry for a long time.”

“I know your name,” Matt grudgingly admitted. He’d looked up the listing for Starsmith before coming, but hadn’t bothered with searching any photos of the company principals. “But I told you that night. I don’t do those events.”

“Your family owns a jewellers, for God’s sake—”

“Owned!” Matt snapped so hard that Joel flinched. “Owned. Past tense. It’s yours now, remember?”

“I could hardly forget,” Joel snapped back. “Were you a shareholder?”

It was Matt’s turn to flush. “No. I wasn’t… well, I did freelance work for them. It wasn’t always regular.” Damn Joel and his searching questions! Matt wasn’t going to go into the justification of how Dad had wanted him to be free to take contracts elsewhere, how they adored each other as family but couldn’t work in the same bloody room for more than an hour without growling at each other, how Matt had interests in his cousin’s business too and preferred to be out on the land with Gary rather than trapped in a design office, pandering to whatever his dad’s parochial clients wanted rather than what he, Matt, wanted to create….

Yeah. He ran his hand through his hair with frustration. Joel stirred things up, that was for sure.

Joel gestured to a seat at the table. Matt realised his legs were starting to shake, and he dropped into it both gracelessly and gratefully. Joel sat carefully in a seat opposite. Guess he felt he needed the table as a barrier between them.

Joel cleared his throat. “So why were you there that night, at Claridge’s?”

Matt scowled. “Dad was about to sign the business over to you. We’d just had another row about it, and he looked knackered with it all. I wanted to help him out.”

Joel looked confused. “You argued… but you wanted to help?”

What was this, twenty questions? “Look, I get angry fast—” He could see the flicker in Joel’s eyes, and it better not have been bloody amusement. “—but I back off just as fast when I need to. He was worrying about attending that sodding event. I said I’d go on his behalf.”

Joel nodded slowly, as if working something out in his own mind. “Just to help him out?”

“Yeah. Well. Okay. I had another motive.” The man opposite him flinched again. He surely couldn’t imagine Matt was going to lean over the table and hit him. Matt knew he could appear fierce, but he’d never actually hit anyone in his life. “I thought I could find some of the other owners, drum up some support.”

“To prevent the takeover?” Joel said drily.

Matt didn’t bother to answer. They both knew how that had gone.

“Was that all you were after?”

“Um. Yeah. Why? What exactly are you implying?” Matt’s tongue felt clumsy in his mouth. This whole meeting had been a bad idea from the start, and seeing Joel Sterling again was making everything a million times worse. So, as he often did, he turned defence into attack. “And anyway, what about you?”

“Me?” Joel looked as amazed as if Matt had hit him. “I didn’t know who you were either.”

“Not even the tiniest bit of gloating at having got one over on my family?”

“What?” Joel clenched his hands into fists on the tabletop. “I repeat, I didn’t know you were part of Barth’s and, even if I had, it was purely a business deal. I don’t gloat.”

He made it sound like he’d left such childish behaviour behind at least a century ago, and how come Matt hadn’t? Matt shook his head, his mind a maelstrom of anger and, surprisingly, hurt. “All that shit you spouted in the bar about loving the business and all it meant to you.”

“That was true!” Joel’s expression was furious. “Don’t try and salvage your pride by turning on me!”

“Pride? Jesus, man, you have no fucking idea! You were just taking what you wanted, to hell with anyone who had a different vision of life.”

“If you stopped yelling for a moment and just realised the financial practicalities of business nowadays—”

“I don’t need a lesson from you in what matters! I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Ditto!” Joel all but shouted.

They both paused. The room seemed to echo with their raised voices. Matt was leaning on the table too, his palms pressing hard on the polished wood, his knuckles almost white.

Joel was breathing heavily. For such a calm, confident man, he looked shaken. But his expression was hard. “I am not Starsmith. I’m an employee, not the company itself.”

Matt snorted. “You’re their puppet. You’re their mouthpiece. You’re their willing servant!”

Joel paled. “How dare you—”

“Because I can,” Matt batted back. “Because you don’t have any hold on me, or my family. Not anymore, and never again.” He pushed his chair back, ready to rise.

“Wait!” Joel slapped a hand on a thick file beside him. The sharp sound gave Matt pause. “This isn’t about us. This is about why Addam called you in the first place.”

Matt tried to get up, he really did. He tried not to care what was in that thick file, what this was all about. His curiosity hadn’t killed his inner cat yet, though he feared it would one day. But for now, he felt the prickle of excitement at what lay there.

But Joel didn’t move to open the file. Instead he met Matt’s gaze again, his voice cool once more. “Why did you come today, Matthew Barth, if you hate us… me… so much?”

No point in holding back now. “Dad begged me to. The stupid sod thinks I’m wasted back home. So I thought I’d come and give you all a bloody good tongue-lashing.”

Joel’s mouth twitched, maybe at the old-fashioned saying, damn him. “You’ve certainly done that. And how is your father?”

“My…?”

“You said he collapsed. You dashed off that night without a word.” Joel’s cheeks were slightly flushed. “If he’s still ill—”

“He’s fine,” Matt interrupted quickly. For a moment he and Joel just stared at each other.

Then Joel nodded slowly, as if he’d come to a decision. “My team tells me you aren’t producing designs for anyone at the moment. So what else are you doing?”

It caught Matt unprepared. He was living off his savings and working, mostly unpaid, in his cousin’s archaeological dig in Norfolk, that’s what he was doing—but he didn’t want to tell Joel that. “None of your business what I do.”

“Unless you come and work for us. For me.” Joel deliberately flattened his hand on the file, as if protecting its contents.

“Stop with the games,” Matt barked. “It took me hours by public transport to get here today, and I’m not looking forward to going straight back again. But I will, unless….”

“Unless?” Joel’s eyes glinted. Matt remembered that pinprick of light in Joel’s pupils from that evening in the bar, just before they’d….

“What’s the project?” he asked bluntly.

“I can’t tell you until you sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

“For God’s sake, and you think I’m being melodramatic—”

“But I can tell you it’s the most prestigious we’ve ever had.”

Matt looked at the file. The edge of a drawing peeked out from the side. “You have Addam de Broek on your team. Why would you need another designer?”

“I wish I didn’t,” Joel said harshly. “But Addam reckons we need you.”

Well, well. Matt couldn’t help but feel flattered, though he wanted to tell Joel Sterling to go to hell. But he also wanted to know what all this was about. If Joel would just tease out that drawing into full view….

Joel took a deep breath. “Whether I like it or not, the ball’s in your court. There’s one more thing you need to know. It’ll be very well paid.”

And therein lay the rub.

Matt needed the money. At least, Gary did, for the dig. They were starting to uncover real finds, but scrabbling away on spare weekends with inadequate tools just wouldn’t do the job.

In the silence that had fallen between them, Joel stood. He looked resigned, though not cowed. Slowly he opened the file and spread the first few papers out onto the table.

Matt gawped. There were design sketches and photos of what looked like current royal treasures. Dear God. Was that one of the crowns from the Tower of London, with a man’s arm and hand that looked exactly like Joel Sterling’s just in shot, resting right next to it? When and how the hell had Starsmith gained such close access?

Matt’s heart thundered in his chest, his fingertips tingling with the ache to open that file completely. He looked back up at Joel. There was a look in Joel’s eyes that reminded Matt of his own excitement with any new discovery at the dig. Gary had often told Matt he looked savage, accompanied by fond but raucous laughter at Matt’s expense.

“All you need to know to make your decision is that our client is the Royal Family,” Joel said softly. His eyes shone, even while his voice was steady.

“This means everything, doesn’t it?” Matt said. “To you, at least.”

“It’s a very prestigious commission,” Joel repeated, more doggedly, but Matt could see a bead of sweat on his brow.

“You’re all the same.” Matt couldn’t resist another poke at the bear. “Money above magic.”

“So prove me wrong!”

They stared at each other, startled, the anger and resentment still simmering.

Then Matt gave a big sigh. “Count me in.” Like it had ever been in doubt.

Saturday Series Spotlight

Part 1  /  Part 2

Clare London

Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.

She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter-three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.

Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her on all her social media.

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Romancing the Undercover Millionaire #3

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Romancing the Rough Draft #4

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

B&N  /  AUDIBLE  /  iTUNES AUDIO

iTUNES  /  GOOGLE PLAY  /  SMASHWORDS

KOBO  /  BOOKS2READ  /  BOOKBUB

WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Romancing the  . . . Series

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  B&N

KOBO  /  iTUNES  /  iTUNES AUDIO

AUDIBLE  /  GOOGLE PLAY  /  WEBSITE

SMASHWORDS  /  GOODREADS TBR