From New York Times Bestselling author Tracy Wolff and International Bestselling author Katie Graykowski comes a sizzling tale of heartbreak, Harley-Davidsons and high heels …
Harmony Wright is a bad girl living a good girl’s life. From the time she was born, she’s always been the good twin. The ladylike twin. The twin her high society (or at least as high society as you can get in San Angelo, TX) mom likes to parade in front of all her garden club friends. She’s gone along with it, too—wearing pearls and Chanel when ripped jeans and motorcycle boots are more her speed. But when Harmony takes off for an extended visit with her twin sister, Lyric, she leaves her good girl persona in the dust …
Dalton Mane knows what it is to be bad and he’s more than ready for the peace that comes with living the good life. Once the crown prince of a powerful biker gang, Bastards of Hell, he walked away from it all when tragedy struck. Now the general manager of the Fort Worth Wranglers, he spends his time wheeling and dealing in the sports world and all while keeping an entire team of football players in line.
When Harmony crashes into Dalton, his tidy little life is over. Will he give up everything to keep Harmony out of trouble?
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As one of my friends would say, the book is “awesomely good”.
I’m a huge fan of Tracy Wolff’s and love her creativity and writing style. This book, being a collaboration, offers the same great storytelling, but adds in a new flavour from Katie.
Without giving away spoilers, this book has great elements, combined together in a spellbinding way: motorcycles, bad guys who aren’t all that bad, action and sizzling chemistry. I love how these authors manage to give depth to the characters. They don’t deal with cliches, but rather give every person real dimensions and emotions. The authors pull me into their characters’ lives and live each heart-wrenching and heart-warming moment with them.
About the Authors
Tracy Wolff collects books, English degrees and lipsticks and has been known to forget where—and sometimes who—she is when immersed in a great novel. At six she wrote her first short story—something with a rainbow and a prince—and at seven she forayed into the wonderful world of girls lit with her first Judy Blume novel. By ten she’d read everything in the young adult and classics sections of her local bookstore, so in desperation her mom started her on romance novels. And from the first page of the first book, Tracy knew she’d found her life-long love. Now an English professor at her local community college, she writes romances that run the gamut from contemporary to paranormal to erotic suspense.
And for all of those who want the unedited version:
Tracy Wolff lives with four men, teaches writing to local college students and spends as much time as she can manage immersed in worlds of her own creation. Married to the alpha hero of her dreams for twelve years, she is the mother of three young sons who spend most of their time trying to make her as crazy as possible.
You can find Tracy also on Twitter, www.tracywolff.blogspot.com and www.sizzlingpens.blogspot.com.
Tracy Wolff also writes as Tessa Adams
I write romantic comedy with lots of heart. I like scuba diving, Mexican food, chocolate cream cheese frosting, movies where lots of stuff gets blown up, and sparkly things. I have a husband, a daughter, and three K-9 kids. I’d love to hear from you. Shoot me an email at email@example.com
Dalton threw open the double doors to his office expecting the worst. He and Heath had just had their asses chewed out by the team owner, and returning to find Harmony in his office might have taken the sting out. But of course, he was right. She wasn’t there. Not that he’d expected her to be. She wouldn’t be the woman he thought she was if she’d just sat idly by, handcuffed to his desk, and waited for him to return.
But good God, what a mess she’d made.
He walked to his desk, shaking his head as he saw the disaster that was his floor. Then again, he figured he’d had it coming. Locking Harmony up had been a big risk, but one he hadn’t felt like he’d had a choice about. An angry Harmony was a liability. Having a coach involved in a bar fight really wasn’t that big of a deal, but if Harmony had burst into Dalton’s meeting with the team owner and Commissioner Goodell, things would have gone downhill in a big damn hurry.
Barry Lamont thought women were put on this earth to decorate it and should be seen but never heard, and, well, Dalton didn’t know Commissioner Goodell’s stance on women, but he was pretty sure that a pissed-off Harmony could have turned Gloria Steinem against her own kind.
He picked up the drawers and fit them back into his desk and then knelt down and scooped up all of the junk he’d collected over the years. He pulled the trash can over. Now was as good a time as any to spring-clean the hell out of his office.
An hour later, he couldn’t get Harmony out of his head. He didn’t feel the need to apologize to her so much as he just wanted to see what horrible things she had planned in retaliation. Besides the pencil-stabbed football, which—he wasn’t going to lie—hurt a lot.
Figuring the least he could do was send her a balloon bouquet—or maybe some high-end jewelry—he hit the space bar to bring his computer screen to life. Flowers seemed a little too cliché, and no baked goods on earth could compare to what Harmony whipped up with ease. But he wasn’t really sure where to look for biker chic in balloons or jewelry—he’d been too broke to afford either when he was a member of the Bastards, so he figured he’d mess around on the Internet, see what he could find.
When he clicked the icon for his web browser, it didn’t come up. So he clicked it again. And again. And again. Still nothing.
He clicked the icon for his monthly financial reports.
He clicked the icon for the team roster.
He clicked on the Apple icon to restart the computer, but no Apple menu dropped down.
What in the hell had Harmony done to his computer?
Pranks were one thing, but now she was messing with his job.
He grabbed his cell to call IT, but it was dead, so he grabbed the charging cable hooked to his computer and plugged in the phone. He hit the intercom button on his desk phone.
“Yes?” Eleanor answered.
“Can you have IT come up here? My computer isn’t working.” Shit. He’d known Harm was smart, but he hadn’t taken her for a computer genius. Maybe he should have, considering who her sister was.
“Absolutely. And thank you so much for that raise. I feel very appreciated, and so does the entire support staff. You’re very generous.” Eleanor sounded extraordinarily happy.
“Yes, well, you deserve it.” He let go of the intercom button as his mind whirled with possibilities.
The entire support staff? Harmony had given a raise to the entire support staff? Jesus. Just how generous had she been? He banged his head on the keyboard, but all he got was a headache. He reached for his phone, but it still wasn’t charged enough to check email. Damn it. Five-Alarm Harm had struck again.
An hour later, IT still hadn’t fixed his computer.
“No way,” Jess Carlyle, head IT tech, said under his breath. “Whoever did this is a diabolical genius.”
Yeah, Dalton had already figured that out. But he wasn’t feeling nearly as warm and fuzzy about it as Jess seemed to be. “What do you mean?”
“The reason you couldn’t click on the icons is because your desktop is a picture of your desktop. Your actual desktop is underneath it. See?” He hit escape and the picture minimized. “I’m going to restart your computer and it should go back to normal.” He hit a series of buttons and then the log-in box came up. “Enter your password.”
Dalton leaned forward to type it in. Instead of opening to the desktop, the screen flickered for a second before saying he’d entered the wrong password. He entered it again and still nothing. She’d reset his password too. He’d give her points for creativity—right after he turned her over his knee and spanked that luscious bottom of hers.
“Can you reset my password?”
“Sure.” Jess typed and a series of screens came up. He typed and typed. “Enter your new password.”
Dalton typed in a new password and made a mental note to add it to the password list in his phone as opposed to the sticky note under his desk. He had no doubt he’d do something to piss Harmony off again soon, and he was a man who learned from his mistakes.
“What in the holy hell is going on here?” Barry Lamont boomed from the doorway. He stabbed the air in front of him with his tablet. He touched the screen, pulled something up, and waved it like Dalton could see it from fifty feet away. “You gave everyone a raise?”
“Jess, can you please excuse us?” Dalton shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to think of all of the ways he was going to kill Harmony.
“You bet.” The computer guy left his laptop on the desk and strolled out of the office. “I’ll just see if Eleanor has any of that pie left.”
Wait a minute. Harmony had brought his assistant a pie? All he’d gotten were chocolate chip cookies, and Harm had taken those with her before he’d even gotten one. Which, come to think of it, didn’t seem fair considering all the havoc she had wrought.
“A raise …?” Barry was a domineering control freak who liked to think that he ran the world. “Son, what were you thinkin’?”
“My computer was hacked and an email was sent out without my knowledge or consent.” He’d gotten and kept this job by not backing down. “I’ll fix it.”
He couldn’t exactly say that he’d handcuffed Lyric Montgomery’s evil twin in his office and it was payback. Especially not after the meeting they’d just had with the commissioner.
“You’d better, or start looking for a new job.” Barry stormed out just like he’d stormed in.
Dalton took a couple of deep breaths and pulled up his sent emails. Harm had given everyone except the players, coaches, and cheerleaders a five-thousand-dollar-a-year raise. He scrubbed his face with his hands. With a few keystrokes, she’d added six hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars to his annual budget. How exactly did he revoke an almost company-wide raise without angering his employees?
Yes, he could send out another email explaining the situation, but people were funny about their money. They wouldn’t care that it had all been a joke.
What a big fuckin’ mess.
It looked like he’d be spending the rest of the afternoon finding a way to squeeze an additional six hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars out of the budget—which was not at all what he’d had planned.
Then again, nothing had gone as he’d planned since Five-Alarm Harm had walked into his life. The woman was a force of nature, and trying to control her was proving was fruitless.
What surprised him the most was that he didn’t want to control her. Even after everything she’d done, he wanted to sit back and watch her in action.