Grit, pain, blood, the three constants in my life.
I wouldn’t burden anyone with loving me. I’m a hard man to love.
Until she walks through the garage doors, looking perfect in her little blue dress and high heels.
She’s neat and clean and too damn good for me, but I’m determined to get her filthy.
Then Reaper reminds me of the debt I owe him, and the fine is costly—stay away from the woman whose voice is a song.
Because her father is the sheriff of Vegas, and he fucking hates us.
Come to find out, the sheriff is a bit crooked, which unlocks a whole new set of rules in my playbook. And I have the right tools to break all of them.
Do I go against my Prez again for my little sparrow? Or do I let her fly away?
They write about gritty, alpha males, sometimes their dark sides, and the women they love.
If you have the same itch, their alpha males should fix that.