"If you like HOT ALPHA MEN, then you absolutely have to read this book because there's TWO!! Yes, TWO HOT MEN!" - Hot Guys In Books
From the Author
Voices murmur outside the condo's door, the sound piercing my delightful daydream. I swing the telescope upward, not wanting to be caught using it. The snippets of conversation drift away.
I don't relax. If the telescope isn't in the same spot as it was positioned last night, Cyndi will realize I've been using it. She'll tease me about being a fellow pervert, sharing the story, embellished for more dramatic effect, with her stern serious dad or, worse, with Angel, that snobby friend of hers.
I'll die. It'll be worse than being the butt of jokes in high school because that ridicule had been about my clothes and this will center around the part of my soul I've always kept hidden. It'll also be the truth and I won't be able to deny it. I am a pervert.
I have to return the telescope to where it was positioned. This is the only acceptable solution. I tap the metal tube.
Last night, my man-crazy roommate had been giggling over the new guy in three eleven north. The previous occupant had been a gray-haired, bowtie-wearing tax auditor, his luxurious accommodations supplied by Nicolas. The most exciting thing he ever did was drink his tea on the balcony.
According to Cyndi, the new occupant is a delicious piece of man candy, tattooed, buff, and head-to-toe lickable. He'd been completing arm curls outside and she'd enthusiastically counted his reps, oohing and aahing over his bulging biceps, calling to me to take a look.
I'd resisted that temptation, focusing on making macaroni and cheese for the two of us, the recipe snagged from the diner my mom works in. After we scarfed down dinner with Cyndi licking her plate clean, she left for the club and hasn't returned.
Three eleven north is the mirror condo to ours. I straighten the telescope. That position looks about right but then, the imitation UGGS I bought in second year college looked about right also. The first time I wore the boots in the rain, the sheepskin fell apart, leaving me barefoot in Economics 201.
Unwilling to risk Cyndi's friendship on about right, I gaze through the eyepiece. The view consists of rippling golden planes, almost like...
Tanned skin pulled over defined abs.
I blink. It can't be. I take another look. A perfect pearl of perspiration clings to a puckered scar. The drop elongates more and more, stretching, snapping. It trickles downward, navigating the swells and valleys of a man's honed torso.
No. I straighten. This is wrong. I shouldn't watch our sexy neighbor as he stands on his balcony. If anyone catches me...
I glance behind me. There's no one here to catch me. Cyndi won't know I looked. The hunk in three eleven north won't know I looked. I'm not harming anyone.
I bend over and take another peek.
Sinful Rewards is a 12 story (at least 100 pages each) serial .
I understand that each story will be priced at 99 cents US (or less).
All 12 stories will be completely written before the first story releases.
They have all been contracted and will be released.
(because I don't know about you but unfinished serials/series drive me bonkers)
I'm trying my best to ensure there are no cliffhangers.
(Bee is behaving because she tries to be a good girl.
Hawke and Nicolas insist on doing whatever the heck they like.)
This is a romance and
I'm striving for that happy for now, lovey dovey feeling at the end of each story.
Story #12 will have a happy ever after ending (between Bee and one of the heroes).
This is NOT a menage.
Hawke and Nicolas don't have sexy times (grins)
They're both very possessive and not open to sharing.