Without my box I can’t be me
Kidnapped by a clown close to the sea
He’s torn inside where one equals two
One I hate, the other I love true
Secrets and lies become alibis
Sivan is damaged, it’s in his eyes
Riddles unravel when you know who masters
Now Imogene’s only home is Masters
An eye playing spy held me together
When I broke, he broke, two ends of frayed tether
We’re joined by the past like twin souls in hell
Innocent angels molested, and fell
I escaped it, but need to go back.
To love the man with his face painted black.
The circus is known for its eternal magic
Our tent of freedom is simply tragic.
Once a little girl fell, then she fell for me
I’m a fool, and she’s a fool for me
There’s a clown inside us all; a purpose
But this life, it’s all just a circus.
I was a Sixty-Eight Whiskey—a combat medic. So when I hear someone shout “MEDIC!” training just kicks in. It’s automatic, immediate. I don’t think I even saw the guy whose leg I tended to, not really. All I saw was him. Zane Badd. His tuxedo fit him like he’d been sewn into it, and his eyes reflected the fury and the hardness of a combat veteran, but when he looked at me, he just…softened. By the time I had his brother patched, Zane and I were both covered in blood, and I knew I had to have him.
The trouble with Zane isn’t getting him, it’s keeping him.
And the trouble with me is, even if I could hold onto a man like Zane, I wouldn’t know what to do with him. It’s not in my nature, and if life has taught me anything, it’s to not trust anyone, least of all men like Zane. He’s a warrior through and through, hard, muscular, gorgeous, tenacious, and yet oddly tender toward me.
Experience and instincts are telling me to run from Zane Badd as fast as possible, but my heart and my body are telling me to stay, to hold on and not let go. Yeah, it’s a conflict as old as humanity itself, but it’s brand new for me.
* * *
Life as Navy SEAL doesn’t exactly prepare you for normality. Yeah, I can tend bar and goof off with my seven crazy brothers, but what do I do when the woman of my dreams—dreams I didn’t know I’d had until I saw her—explodes into my life like a frag grenade? I’m trained to attack, to win, to survive at any costs, and figuring out what to do about a woman like Amarantha Quinn will take every scrap of tenacity and courage I possess. Combat is easy, it turns out, in comparison to facing your own fears and scars.
And then sometimes, just when you think you’ve got it finally figured out, fate throws you a screwball and sends everything FUBAR.
Other books in the series:
The name’s Barrett Callahan. Yeah, that Barrett Callahan—the one the press dubbed “Bare” after those naked sexting pictures surfaced. At twenty-five, I was armed with an MBA from Harvard, an executive position at my father’s Fortune 500 company, a penthouse, and a different piece of delectable eye candy in my bed every weekend. I had a life most men dreamed of. But then my father decided to run for president, and my playboy lifestyle became a liability to his campaign that was built on family values. My “makeover” comes in the form of a fake fiancée who I don’t even get to choose–one who is an uptight, choirgirl acting priss but also sexy-as-hell.
My latest relationship had gone down in flames, and I was drowning in a sea of student loans when in true Godfather status, James Callahan made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Seven figures for seven months on the campaign trail pretending to be the adoring fiancée of his son, Barrett. As soon as he won the election, our engagement would be dissolved amicably for the press, I was free to ride off into the sunset a million dollars richer, and because of the NDA, no one would be the wiser. Sure, I’d never met the guy, but I’d been a theater nerd in high school. I could pull off any role from Lady Macbeth to Maria Von Trapp. But that was before I met my fake fiancé—the infuriating, self-absorbed, egotistical, drop-dead-sexy King of the Manwhores.
The race will be a fight to the death finish, and that’s not even the actual campaign.
Good things come in extra-large, smoking hot packages.
Things like pizza.
The very pizzas that I deliver for my dad’s restaurant, Peretti’s Pizza. It’s a temporary job, something to pay the bills until I graduate from school, but it does the trick. In fact, it’s working quite well until Ryan Pierce of the Minnesota Stars decides to order a pizza from me, and life as I know it turns upside down.
You see, Ryan Pierce doesn’t just open his front door. He opens it buck naked. And suddenly, I’m not the one boasting the biggest, hottest package in the room. However, it’s what happens next that gives me butterflies whenever my phone beeps. Ryan starts to call, and then text, and then fifteen pizza deliveries and one fantastic night later, we’re friends with benefits.
So when he asks me to be his fake girlfriend at his brother’s wedding, I’m happy to help. But the longer we pretend, the more I worry that this is one package I might not be able to handle.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
This is a full-length, standalone romantic comedy with an HEA. It is intended for audiences 18+ due to mature content including romance, language, and ridiculously fun times.