Everyone knows that if you play with fire you’ll end up getting burned… What happens when you attend a first responder’s bachelor auction with your best friends? Well, if your name is Madison Kelly like me, your friends end up bidding on a date for you with your high school crush. That’s right. Even back when I was ‘Fatty Maddie’ to all my classmates, I had eyes for the quarterback of our football team. Not like I was the only one. Mauro Bianco may fight fires for a living, but he still sets my heart ablaze. One look at the rugged, muscular man he’s turned into and I want to slide down his pole. One date. That’s all I’m committed to. A few hours and I can tuck him back into that tattered old shoebox in my closet. As always, the universe has other plans. I never would’ve predicted that in a matter of days he’d turn from my dream guy into my enemy. ADD TO GOODREADS
iBooks | B & N | Kobo | Google PlayMy brothers widen their stances, share a look of amusement and cock their eyebrows at me. “Hate to break it to you, but Maddie didn’t bid on you. Lauren did.” Luca laughs while Cristian chuckles. “I’m going out with a Madison and she didn’t go to our high school. Which reminds me.” I pull out my phone. “Maddie is Madison, you idiot,” Luca says. “Her and Lauren were my year.” “I went to high school with Madison?” I try to let her face come back to me, and though I can picture her bright blue eyes and long chestnut hair, nothing about her is familiar from high school. “Yes, but she definitely wasn’t hanging out at the bonfires and football pep rallies.” Luca grabs his helmet off his bike. The only responsible thing I’ve seen him do in the last few years. “Well, shit and she doesn’t even want to go out with me? Her friend bid on me?” Luca straddles his bike with a grin. I look over to Cristian, but he’s putting his shirt back on and starts fiddling with his earbuds. They obviously think this conversation is over. “Yeah, but we’re all in the same boat.” Cristian’s thumb moves over his phone screen. “Maddie’s awesome and I think you’ll have a good time with her.” “She seemed pretty quiet and way too accommodating,” I say. Luca kicks his stand up, letting the bike rock a little under him. Cristian’s hands freeze on the screen of his phone. “And that’s bad?” he asks. “I want a woman who knows what she wants. Has her own damn opinions. Doesn’t just agree with everything I say.” Cristian peeks over his shoulder, a look of amusement that matches Luca’s. “You want a girl to come up and grab your nuts?” “I want a girl who knows what her favorite food is, has an opinion about where she wants to go for dinner, likes whatever sports team she likes and doesn’t default to my favorites.” I stuff my hands into my pockets, digging out my keys for my truck. “Well then, Maddie might not be the one. Like I said, she’s nice.” Cristian slaps me on the shoulder. “Treat her good though, okay?” He inserts one earbud. “What do you think I’m going to do, leave her in Garfield Park?” He puts his other earbud in. “That’s not even funny man. I have a friend in that district and the shit that goes down there...” He shakes his head. Cristian loses the entire point of my statement—the fact I’m not a jackass. I’m not Luca. “It’s one date,” I say. “And who knows, maybe she’s nice but still has a wild streak.” Christian again glances over to Luca who’s smiling like he’s fucking Mickey Mouse. “Well, good luck on your date,” he says. Cristian jogs away and Luca’s bike starts up. I head to my truck. The conversation is over, but I’m curious now. Where’s my damn yearbook? Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too. Goodreads | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest | Bookbub | Website Join our newsletter and get 2 FREE BOOKS! Be one of our unicorns
Flirting with Fire by Piper Rayne
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
What a great start to what is going to be a scorching hot series. We have three irresistible brothers y’all and up first is Mauro. He’s a fireman, yes a fireman. He’s sexy, loves his Moma and every woman’s dream.
After a friend bids on Mauro at a bachelor auction, Madison is finally going on a date with the boy she had a crush on all through high school... only thing he doesn’t remember her.
This is an incredibly sexy, funny read that will have you begging for more. I’m in love with the characters and can’t wait to see where we go next with this series. Great read!
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Happy Hour, an all-new hilarious enemies to lovers romance from USA Today bestselling duo Piper Rayne is available NOW!
The perfect man for her is the one she hates most. #gofigure
Dating is hard.
Dating in your thirties is even harder.
Dating in Chicago is harder still.
I haven't given up on finding my happily-ever-after, but in the age of swiping right and Netflix and chill, I'm wondering if everything is as temporary as my marriage turned out to be.
Truth is, there is one guy I can't get my mind off of.
Roarke Baldwin has salt and pepper hair I've dreamed of running my hands through and I'm pretty sure that if I checked he really does have a six pack of abs underneath his suit. And I've always wondered what that stubble on his face would feel like between my thighs.
The problem? He's the one man I hate more than my ex-husband…
His divorce attorney.
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Excerpt:I press the numbers on my phone with shaky fingers, bringing the receiver up to my ear and release a deep breath. He picks up after one ring. “I thought we were friends? Having your assistant call my assistant. Tsk. Tsk, Ms. Crowley.” Aggravation fuses together every cell in my body until I become an impenetrable wall. “First, we are not friends. Second, I would prefer to talk to you via our office phones.” There’s a brief second of silence where he’s probably realizing I called him through my office line. “Ahh… so now you have my number and I don’t have yours? That seems terribly unfair.” “I didn’t realize you cared about fairness?” I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. “You don’t know that much about me. It’s not like you know me intimately.” He lowers his voice on the last word and drags it out. I roll my eyes, happy we’re not face-to-face so he can’t see the flush in my cheeks. “You may have witnessed how I own the courtroom, but you know nothing about my private life. For instance, you don’t know if I like thrillers or comedies. Whether I prefer sorbet to ice cream or if I wear boxers or briefs.” “I don’t need to know those things,” I say with frustration, shutting my eyes to rid the vision from my head of him in tight black boxer briefs—since that’s my preference. “You want to know though.” A sexual innuendo pours out of his mouth and hits its mark between my thighs. “There you go making assumptions about my wants.” I pick up my pen, shuffling through paperwork. Anything to distract me from this ache. “I not only know what you want, I know what you need, Ms. Crowley.” I smack my hand down on my desk. “Okay Rico Suave, let’s talk about this venue you have access to and keep the discussion of undergarments for another time.” A beeping sound interrupts us. “Hold all my calls please, Kristen.” Then nothing for a moment. “Sorry about that but you know how busy I am.” “Yes, I’m sure destroying people’s lives takes a lot of time. So let’s stop the sexual innuendos and get down to business.” “Let’s meet tonight. You frequent Torrio’s. I frequent Torrio’s. Let’s do something crazy and have a drink together.” “I don’t need a drink at Torrio’s, Mr. Baldwin, I need a venue to house my gala. Now tell me your terms and I want the details of this venue you insist you can secure. I refuse to meet you until you supply me with that information.” I uncross my legs and tap my foot on the floor under me. “So demanding. I like it.” I can hear him shuffling papers in the background. “I’ll have my assistant message your assistant with all the details of the venue. I’m sure it will be of your liking. Then we’ll meet tonight at Torrio’s. Seven sharp. Consider it our own personal happy hour.” “I’m not committing to anything until I see the venue.” “Then I’ll see you at seven.” The phone clicks and I stare at the receiver in my hand. “Prick,” I murmur. A knock sounds on my door.
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About Piper Rayne:Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
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Afternoon Delight, the next standalone in the romantic and hilarious Charity Case Series by Piper Rayne is available now!
The perfect man for me is the one who broke my heart.
Yeah, I wish.
I’m on a mission to find myself a nice, solid, respectable man. The only problem is nice, solid, and respectable comes in a meh package and is B-O-R-I-N-G as hell.
It’s been established. I have one type. Bad Boy. I tried the other flavors, I really did. But there’s nothing like the allure of a man who takes what he wants without apology.
As if my love life isn’t dramatic enough, Dean Bennett walks into my life again thinking he’s going to win me back with his charm and charisma. He might come in a different package, but under that expensive suit he’s still the same cocky, arrogant, pompous prick who only cares about numero uno.
I’m not that naïve young girl anymore so I have to ignore the fact that the way he looks at me practically sets my panties on fire.
Everyone deserves a second chance to right a wrong. The problem? He’s not just an ex-boyfriend…
He’s my ex-husband.
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ExcerptWalking through the revolving door, I’m greeted by a security desk before I can access the elevators. Shit. I should message Glen again to say I’m going to be even later than I expected. I approach the tall man who looks as annoyed as me for being here on a Friday night. “Hello, I need to head to” —I glance at the envelope— “Heiberman and Lipe Law Firm.” He taps a few keys. “I think they’re closed already.” His face is void of any emotion. “Can you tell me if there’s a…” my eyes glance to the folder again. “Mr. Bennett?” The last name causes my stomach to gurgle. “Let me call up.” He presses some buttons on the phone, listens for a second and then hangs up. “No one is answering.” I lean over the counter, splashing on my please eat out of my hand smile. “It’s Friday. You want to go home. I want to go home. I promised my boss that I’d get these on the desk of Mr. Bennett.” I cough, bile rising up my throat with the mention of the name. Victoria is really going to have to take care of this in the future. “Can I please just go up to their floor and see if their door is unlocked?” He shakes his head, giving me a look I’m way too familiar with, silently asking if I’m crazy. “What can I do?” I ask. “Money? A date?” I look at his left hand. “No. Are you a fan of winter sports?” I’ll totally pull Skylar into this. “My cousin is a Winter Classics skier and her fiancé—” A large palm lands in front of my face. “Give me your name.” His fingers position on the keyboard. “Chelsea… Chelsea Walsh.” He types my name in, and I smile when he pulls a visitor badge out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I take it from his hand and put it over my head. “If no one is up there, they have a drop box beside their door. You can leave your package there.” I thank him again and walk steadily to the elevators, dodging people desperate to start their weekend. I end up riding the elevator by myself to the thirty-third floor. The elevator doors ding open and I file out, my head swiveling right and then left. Spotting the door with Heiberman and Lipe Law Firm, I head over to it to find a list of the names of all the associates and thankfully there’s Bennett second from the top. Hold on Glen, I’m almost on my way. My hand pulls on the frosted glass door and it must be my lucky day because it opens. I step into the darkened reception area. Looking around, I find no one. Heading down a hallway, my eyes zero in on the names on the doors while peeking my head into vacant offices. Finally, after passing the conference room, I see the last name Bennett and peek my head inside to find it empty with the light on. Hopefully that means he’s in the bathroom or something. I pull out my cell phone, seeing Glen has messaged me back, but instead of responding to his I shoot one off to my boss Hannah. Me: Mr. Bennett isn’t here. Can I drop the envelope on his desk? Hannah as usual, replies instantly. Hannah: Sure. Just leave it somewhere he’ll see it first thing on Monday. Me: Got it. I drop my cell phone back into my purse and slowly walk across the room and place the envelope on the chair. As I straighten up, I notice a baseball sitting next to the keyboard like someone had been playing with it and just set it down. My jaw drops and my gaze scatters across every surface, spinning around investigating each piece of art, photos, anything I can find to tell me this isn’t… Then as though I hadn’t breathed the entire time I’ve been in this office, the smell of him hits my nostrils. The once familiar scent of the ocean breeze, his deodorant and fresh linen from his clothes. He never was a cologne guy. Other than a picture of a dog on the table behind his desk, it’s filled with baseball memorabilia of the Cubs. A die-hard Cub’s fan certificate is framed and on display, so others know he didn’t jump on the bandwagon two years ago when they won the World Series. It’s proof that his family has borne the Cubbie fever for generations. “Do you make it a habit of sneaking into people’s offices?” His voice is coy and flirtatious. I squeeze my eyes shut then grip the edge of the desk before my knees give out. Shivers run up and down my spine. Crazy train. All aboard! “You can at least show your face,” he says, continuing his usual play. “I promise I don’t bite.” “Unless I want you to.” I spin around, my knuckles white as they tighten on the edge of the desk. Now it’s his jaw that slackens as he realizes his ex-wife is standing in the middle of his office.
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About Piper RaynePiper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
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Manic Monday, an all-new hilarious and romantic standalone from Piper Rayne, is LIVE!
The perfect man for me is a blood-sucking lawyer. #pfftwhatever
Burned the T-shirt.
I didn’t swear off all men after my divorce, but I sure as hell swore off anyone remotely like my ex. On the top of that list? Attorneys. Everyone knows they can’t be trusted.
Now that I’m back in Chicago, my focus is my daughter, my mom and me. I haven’t given up on finding my happily-ever-after, it’s just on hold—indefinitely.
Then I see Reed Warner again, and he weasels his way into every part of my life, not willing to take no for an answer.
In spite of my better judgment I can’t stop thinking about the way his designer suits fit his muscular frame, or the way his blue eyes seem to eat me up with every glance.
You know when you’re on a diet and even hummus seems irresistible? Reed is like the equivalent of chocolate éclair and my willpower is fading fast.
The problem? Not only is he a lawyer…
He was the best man at my wedding.
ExcerptMy phone rings just as I step onto the train. “Hello?” “Victoria.” Darcie barks my name like she’s the head nun at a Catholic high school and I’m showing cleavage. “How did you get this number?” “I have my connections,” she says, and I already know from her tone that she’s about to ruin my day. “What’s up, Darcie?” I try to hide the irritation from my voice, but I’m not sure I’m entirely successful. “I just found you a partner to help with the carnival event.” I blow out a breath and find a seat in the back of the train. “I don’t need a partner.” “Well, he would only help out if it meant that he could work with you.” A million swear words set off like a round of fireworks in my head. “You’re kidding me?” She laughs. “I wish I was.” I detect a bite of jealousy in her tone. “If I was single…anyway, he requested you and we so rarely get fathers or father figures so in this case, I have to let him have what he wants. And for some reason, that’s you.” I watch the city skyline getting closer out the window. “Who is he to Henry?” I ask. She laughs and then I hear chatter behind her. I wish I was in front of her, so I could shake her shoulders and get her to focus on me. “Oh, you’ll find out.” “Henry’s mom’s boyfriend?” I ask. “Nope. Ask for yourself. Gotta go. Oh, and I’m sending him your phone number right now.” Click. The line dies. Mother fucking hell. Am I trapped in some Mean Girls reunion movie? I haven’t even tucked my phone back into my purse before it dings with a text. I’d ignore it if I wasn’t worried that it could be my mom needing me. Unknown: Hey, it’s Reed. The stunning guy you just reacquainted yourself with twenty minutes ago. How about a nightcap tonight to start brainstorming ideas for the carnival? I add his contact information into my phone, so I don’t mistakenly answer again. Me: Don’t you have a son to watch at night? Reed: Nope. Me: I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate your invite. We can talk details over a morning coffee and that’s it. Reed: ??? Reed: Not even dinner? I don’t respond. Reed: Lunch? Even business associates have lunch together. I shake my head and try to tamp down my temper. Reed: Fine. But mornings are hard for me. I’m being difficult for the sake of being difficult now. I can’t very well ask Hannah to come in late to plan some stupid carnival booth anyway. Me: Saturday? Reed: J J J J J My place. The three dots appear but I respond before he can. Me: McDonald’s on Peterson. The kids can play, and we’ll talk. Noon. Reed: You run a hard bargain and I make a lot of deals. What the hell does that mean? Reed: I take it that’s the end of our conversation? I don’t reply because there’s nothing else to say. Reed: Message received. Have a great day, Victoria. J I tuck my phone back into my purse with a giddy feeling inside. Damn it. I wish my stomach would get the message my brain is trying to send it.
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About Piper Rayne
Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
Connect with Piper Rayne