Annabeth Albert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Annabeth Albert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:14:18 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Annabeth Albert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Need You Close (Second Chance Ranch #3) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/need-you-close-second-chance-ranch-3-read-online-annabeth-albert Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:14:18 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/need-you-close-second-chance-ranch-3-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Second Chance Ranch Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)

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Need You Close is book three in beloved author Annabeth Albert’s small-town Colorado cowboy romance series with Yellowstone meets Schitt’s Creek vibes. This return to the ranch features an unlikely friendship between a highly capable horse veterinarian and a newly injured military vet turned ranch hand. Hurt/comfort, new friends-to-lovers, mature main characters, disability rep, mental health rep, found family, and big feels with a standalone HEA guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Carson

“I’m not sure I like this plan.” My older brother frowned at me over his coffee cup.

Colt needed to move along to the sheriff’s office and stop worrying about plans he’d come up with. I was here to be a ranch hand on the spread he now owned with his husband, and I fully intended to do the damn job I’d agreed to.

“Your plan,” I reminded him. We’d had a long drive back from Denver the day before, and I’d slept like shit in Colt and Maverick’s guestroom. My voice was even thicker than usual, like each word cost a buck and I didn’t have a five to spare.

“Yeah, but you’re still not one hundred percent,” Colt stated the obvious. Perhaps he’d expected more out of the rehabilitation program I’d undergone in Denver. Whatever the case, he was doing a shit job of hiding how disconcerting he found my new normal.

Join the fucking club, brother.

“Not gonna be.” Short, clipped sentences were easiest for me, but the truth really was that simple. I’d been found unfit for duty. Permanently disabled was stamped all over my discharge records. If anywhere near a hundred percent was a possibility, I’d be on a plane this very minute, returning to my personnel and the job I’d left unfinished. Instead, I was here, back in Lovelorn, Colorado, and the one thing I’d learned the past six months or so was that I might as well accept my new reality.

Colt, however, had yet to come to the same conclusion. His expression turned earnest. “If you keep up with the PT and exercises…”

“Colt.” I held his gaze, man to man. He’d seen me when I’d first arrived back stateside, knew what rough shape I’d been in. And Colt was a sheriff, same as our dad before him. He’d seen his fair share of gnarly accidents. He knew damn well there were some things a body didn’t come back from.

“I know.” His wide shoulders sagged. Colt leaned against the nearby fridge. “I hate this for you.”

When had his temples gone gray? And when had those lines around his mouth and eyes deepened? I didn’t like thinking that I might be the cause. He was eight years older than me to start, and then we’d lost our dad in the line of duty when I was a toddler, making Colt that much more parental toward me. I’d never much cared for Colt making himself responsible for the rest of us and the messes we got ourselves into.

However, I also knew when to keep the peace, so all I said was, “Thanks.”

“I do wish you’d consider staying with us instead of in the bunkhouse.” Colt took on a “be reasonable” tone.

I snorted. “Full house already.”

“Always room for you,” Colt said, as if he and Maverick didn’t also have two teen girls and Maverick’s sister living with them. Besides, he and Maverick were newlyweds. The last thing they needed was Colt’s little brother underfoot.

“Gonna earn my keep.” I made my voice firm but added an approximation of a smile to soften my refusal. My facial muscles didn’t always cooperate, so I had to hope my effort was close enough.

“Stubborn.” Chuckling, Colt shook his head.

“Learned from the best.” I grinned at the ribbing, but also at how easy the retort had come out. Words were fickle things these days, so I’d learned to celebrate when they worked as I wanted.

“Fine.” Colt set aside his coffee and hefted my large army duffel bag up from where I’d dropped it near the back door. “Let’s get you settled then.”

“Don’t need an escort.” I gave him the hardest of glares and reached for my bag, but Colt being Colt, he resisted giving it back.

Thank fuck, his husband chose that moment to wander in. Husband. I’d had about nine months to get used to the idea of Colt having one of those. Never would have figured on that possibility, and with Maverick Lovelorn no less. I’d been a little kid when Colt and Maverick had been high-school best friends, too oblivious to notice much beyond my video games and remote-control car obsession.

Maverick, though, had grown into a decent dude. He’d been with Colt when I’d arrived at the medical center in DC and had visited a few times during my Denver program. I’d come to appreciate that he could get Colt to see reason, so I shot him a pleading look and added a smile for good measure.

“Colt. Stop hovering.” Maverick easily plucked my bag away from Colt and handed it to me. “Let Carson walk to the bunkhouse on his own if he wants.”

“Not a kid.” I glowered at them both, grateful for Maverick’s assistance, but frustrated that I’d needed it. And the two of them negotiating like I was a teen asking for an extra hour past curfew rankled.

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Hot Dish (Mount Hope #5) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/hot-dish-mount-hope-5-read-online-annabeth-albert Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:02 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/hot-dish-mount-hope-5-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Novella Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Mount Hope Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 65(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)

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An unforgettable thank you…

The hottest silver fox paramedic happens to live on my street. When he rescues me, I bring him a casserole as a thank you. Seems like the neighborly thing to do.

However, I don’t anticipate my thank you turning into a steamy afternoon delight. Now Percy and I are heating up the sheets and finding more in common than I ever could have expected.

Both Percy and I have been burned by love before. Are we ready to take a chance on love or is this fling just a flash in the pan?

Hot Dish is a steamy treat of a novella with a side of sweet feels set in the Mount Hope universe, but also stands alone well. It features two mature heroes over forty, a wary silver fox paramedic, a sunny high school art teacher single dad, insta-lust, wooing via food, and a heaping helping of a fluffy happily ever after. Originally featured in the Delicious charity anthology, the story has a new cover and a preview of Up All Night, Mount Hope Book 1

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Stu

“A paramedic guy came to check on you,” Shelby reported as I emerged from an unplanned afternoon nap. In my defense, I’d had a heck of a week, and I’d been up late last night finishing a painting.

“Who?” I blinked, brain bleary from the too-long nap.

“The one who is our neighbor.” Shelby rolled her eyes at me. My daughter was getting all too good at that skill as we approached her freshman year of high school. “He’s also on the ambulance crew that helped the night of Magnus’s fire.”

She kicked up a leg, showing off her healing scrape. Our next-door neighbor, Magnus, had suffered a catastrophic house fire earlier in the week. Shelby had been the one to discover the fire when she went to her job as Magnus’s dog sitter, and we’d both suffered minor injuries prior to the arrival of the first-responder crews.

“Oh right. Percy.” The night of the fire had been so chaotic I’d almost forgotten that our neighbor had been one of the paramedics to respond to the call.

“You know his name?” Soren scoffed from his seat at the kitchen table. Our house was small but cozy in a neighborhood of other older, working-class homes, and the kitchen shared space with the dining room. From the looks of his ham sandwich and chips, Soren was having a late lunch or a giant snack.

“Mount Hope is a small town.” I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes like Shelby. Soren was about to be a junior and was so very, very sixteen these days. “Tony, your football coach, is dating Caleb, a firefighter. Percy works with Caleb, hence we’ve been at the same event a couple of times. And he’s our neighbor.”

Those were facts, but I hadn’t mentioned Percy was a major silver fox, maybe ten years older than my forty. Even if we’d lived in Manhattan, I would have made it a point to know his name. And if I spent way too much time looking out the window when he did yard work, well, that was another thing I’d keep to myself.

“This is why we should have stayed in Berkley.” Two years into living in Mount Hope, Soren had yet to forgive me or his mother for the move. However, when my ex-wife needed to return to Oregon to take care of her aging parent, I hadn’t hesitated to move as well. Keeping our blended family together was more important than mine and Soren’s love of the Bay Area. “Too much small-town gossip. It’s weird, everyone knowing everyone else’s business.”

“Well, I like it here.” Shelby was ever our peacemaker. “We should do something to thank the first responders from the fire.”

“We should.” I agreed, if only to have an excuse to ogle Percy’s lanky muscles up close, along with whatever other eye candy was lurking around the fire station. “What were you thinking? Take cookies by the station?”

“Everyone else likely sends cookies.” Shelby had a typical teen fixation lately on “everyone else” and not wanting to be “boring.” “How about we do a casserole? Like those stuffed pasta shells I made last week. Everyone loved that one.” She smiled hopefully at me.

“That sounds like a decent idea,” I allowed. Shelby had spent the summer binging cooking competition shows and honing her culinary chops. Not only were the results tasty, but she usually doubled the recipes to split them between households, giving her a chance to practice her math skills as well. “You can make two casseroles again, so we get dinner out of it too.”

“And you could drop the second one off with Percy to take in on his next shift.” Shelby was also a born organizer, but I didn’t hate the idea of a reason to knock on Percy’s door.

“Good plan.”

Thus, one trip to the grocery store and one marathon cooking session with Shelby later, I found myself knocking on Percy’s front door. Like my house, his had a narrow concrete front stoop rather than a porch, and I felt more than a little silly and exposed standing in the open, holding the wrapped casserole. And that was before Percy opened the door wearing only a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts and rubbing his eyes.

“Oh no.” My shoulders dropped. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay.” Percy waved away my concern. He was tall and lean with rugged features and closely cropped silver hair. If not for the shorts and bare, fuzzy chest, he could pass for an old west sheriff. “I sleep weird hours. As do you, apparently.”

“Apparently.” My face heated more than was reasonable for the July evening. “Sorry that I was napping when you stopped by earlier.”

“No problem.” He opened the door wider. “Come in so I can grab a shirt before I give the neighborhood something to talk about.”

“Okay,” I said in lieu of what I really wanted to say, which was that he didn’t need to put a shirt on for me. I was only too happy to look at his fuzzy chest and flat stomach. However, Percy was already pulling on a T-shirt advertising the annual Mount Hope first responder pancake breakfast. “And the nap comes with the territory of being an artist. And an art teacher with the summer off and a lack of routine.”

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Stuck with Me (Mount Hope #6) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/stuck-with-me-mount-hope-6-read-online-annabeth-albert Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:01 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/stuck-with-me-mount-hope-6-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Novella Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Mount Hope Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 10791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 43(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)

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Help! I’m trapped with my work crush!

As a receptionist at a legal aid organization, I’m used to hot attorneys in suits. But Marshall Wilson is different.

I’ve had a crush on our newest hire for months now. When I’m finally ready to make my move, we end up trapped in an elevator together. Talk about bad timing!

A medical emergency adds to the tension as we await rescue. However, we’re also bonding, and there’s a glimmer of hope that my crush might be mutual.

Can Marshall and I stumble our way to forever, or are the doors closing on our chance?

Stuck With Me is a sweet, close proximity novella with swoony first time falling in love vibes. Set in the Mount Hope universe, but stands alone well. Features two clueless coworkers trapped together, zero angst, grumpy/sunshine, caretaking, and chronic illness rep. Originally featured in the Queers and Quills conference anthology, the story has a new cover and a preview of Up All Night, Mount Hope Book 1

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Rory

Today was the day I finally asked Marshall Wilson out. I’d worn my favorite jellyfish Hawaiian shirt to work with the pants my sister swore were super flattering. My short, curly red hair had at least somewhat cooperated that morning and wasn’t its usual halo of frizz.

I’d only been planning to ask Marshall out for the last six months or more, since he’d joined our Mount Hope CASA office as the newest attorney. No biggie. But today was the day.

First, though, I had to wait for him to return from a court date while doing my usual job of juggling incoming phone calls, in-office appointments, and other front-office tasks. As I finished a phone call finalizing arrangements for an upcoming meeting, our boss, Jillian, strode over to my desk in our small reception area, curly reddish-brown hair flowing over the shoulders of her purple pantsuit.

“I have no idea how you make your job look so easy.” Jillian nodded approvingly as I ended the call. “You manage to make coordinating five different calendars sound fun.”

“It helps that I love my work.” I grinned up at her. “And I’ve got a great boss.”

“We do indeed have an awesome boss.” Tennessee, another of our attorneys and a friend, joined Jillian in front of my L-shaped desk. Like the rest of us, Tennessee loved Jillian’s commitment to our mission of advocating for children in the legal system and her easygoing demeanor. She was a pretty awesome director to work for. Unexpectedly, though, Tennessee also turned the praise on me. “And a great receptionist. You keep us running smoothly.”

“Wow, tag-teaming the compliments.” Narrowing my gaze, I glanced between them. “What did I do?”

“You were gone last week.” Tennessee had his long hair pulled into a ponytail. It bobbed with each of his earnest nods. “We missed you.”

“It was a good—or rather, bad—glimpse of what it will be like after you graduate.” Jillian shook her head mournfully.

“Aww. I feel the love.” I put a hand over my heart. I was enrolled in a low-residency master of social work program, and I’d spent the previous week on campus in Portland, doing a series of presentations and attending seminars. “And yes, graduation is getting closer. But I haven’t even started my job hunt yet.”

“Don’t tempt Jillian into creating a new position for you.” Tennessee laughed, but Jillian’s wizardry at winning grants was legendary.

“Funding remains elusive.” Jillian held up her index finger. “But trust me, I’m trying. You’re the best receptionist and administrative assistant we’ve had in a long time.”

“Thank you. How was the Howard court date?” I asked. Jillian being back in the office likely meant Marshall was as well. He was new enough that Jillian or Tennessee often accompanied him to court or other major events. They must have returned via the back stairs rather than the elevator.

“About as well as we could have hoped for.” Jillian smiled widely, magenta lips curving. “Marshall did an excellent job in his report and on the stand.”

Tennessee’s grin was much more mischievous. “Which, hopefully, means he’s in a good mood for you to⁠—”

“Congratulate.” I cut him off. Loudly. Tennessee was a friend and not usually much of a gossip, but perhaps he was tired of hearing about my crush and my failure to do anything about it. Also, his extroverted fiancé was wearing off on him, making the reserved Tennessee more outgoing these days. “As a friend and coworker.”

“Who are we congratulating?” Marshall himself emerged from the rear of our offices. We occupied part of the fourth floor of an older building located near the county courthouse that had last seen remodeling at least four decades prior. But as a nonprofit, location and price were the selling point, not the maze of rooms or the ancient amenities.

“You.” Tennessee beamed. “Jillian was just bragging about how well you did.”

“I wouldn’t say the job is getting easier, but I am getting more competent, one would hope.” Marshall was nothing if not serious. Some might call him uptight or grumpy, but I was drawn to how much effort he put into his work and words. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but when he did speak, it carried weight. More so today because he wore an elegant navy suit with a light-blue dress shirt and a blue-and-silver tie. He looked ready to give a keynote speech at a thousand-dollar-a-plate luncheon, but I’d rather dine on him. He nodded in Tennessee’s direction. “And Tennessee gets credit for helping me prep all yesterday.”

“You are way more than competent and far too humble.” Jillian clapped him on the back. His back, like the rest of him, was lean and long. Marshall was well over six feet tall with closely cropped dark hair and a tan complexion slightly darker than Jillian’s coppery notes. “You did wonderful advocacy. The family is lucky to have you.”

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On Dancer – An Annabeth Albert Christmas Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/on-dancer-an-annabeth-albert-christmas-read-online-annabeth-albert Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:03:18 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/on-dancer-an-annabeth-albert-christmas-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)

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Can holiday magic transform this crush into a happily ever after?

Rudy:
I’ve had a crush on Alexander Dasher, the legendary ballet star, since I was fifteen years old. A decade of pining from a distance.
This holiday season, I’m assisting my mother with our small-town production of The Nutcracker, and guess who’s agreed to take the leading role?
Alexander is rehabbing a knee injury and looking for distraction. I teach him my favorite nerdy game, and soon, we’re talking and playing late into the evening.
One kiss is all it takes to nearly derail our growing friendship. Alexander is reluctant to step into the starring role for my first time. Even if our time together is short, I’m ready to turn my crush into reality if Alexander will give us a chance.

Alexander:
I’ve returned to my hometown after traveling the globe and establishing my reputation among the very best in the world of ballet.
My recent injury threatens all I’ve worked for, but I’m not ready to retire, even as the clock ticks louder.
Gaming with Rudy is the perfect diversion. With him, I’m seen as more than simply Alexander the famous dancer. Developing feelings for Rudy is all too easy, but he deserves far more than a holiday fling.
Our connection burns brighter than a yule log, but I worry we’ll both end up with broken hearts. The whole town, including our mothers, is rooting for us, but a future seems impossible. Can we pirouette our way into a happy ending?

On Dancer is an Annabeth Albert (author of The Geek Who Saved Christmas) holiday romance that will have you cracking nuts and humming along as an aging, grumpy ballet dancer encounters a sunny, younger production assistant determined to save their small hometown ballet company. On Dancer offers heaping servings of meddling mothers, quirky secondary characters, an age-gap, first times, and all the vibes of your favorite holiday romance movies

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

Principal dancer: the most skilled dancer(s) in a ballet company, usually cast in leading roles.

Rudy: October

You need to get over your silly crush, I lectured myself even as I craned my neck, looking for the one and only Alexander Dasher, otherwise known as the source of my personal gay awakening and decade-long obsession. No biggie. Certainly not a cause for stress. This was simply any other country club party, not a reason to be weirdly nervous.

Our mothers were friends. Our paths should have crossed long before this. Well, technically, they already had, but with any luck, Alexander wouldn’t remember my fourteen-year-old self, blushing and stammering when I met him backstage post Romeo and Juliet performance with my parents in tow. Alexander had been a sweaty vision of perfection in ballet tights. I had been fourteen and a short, skinny, pimpled mess of hormones. No, better he meet me tonight as an adult. A professional. A potential colleague. And I would get through the required introduction without even a hint of pink cheeks.

I exhaled hard, trying to come up with a use for all this jittery energy. Naturally, my older brother Waylon chose that moment to seek me out for a greeting and his typical brotherly hug.

“Nice shirt.”

As he released me from the hug, Waylon indicated the white dress shirt that had taken me far longer than hoped to iron. I’d paired it with my nicest pair of slacks, which happened to be black. I’d looked pretty sharp in the cracked full-length mirror some prior occupant of my apartment had left up, but Waylon didn’t seem inclined to agree. Shaking his head, he snorted. “You look like part of the catering crew.”

“Mom said to dress professional, but not super fancy.” I tugged at my too-tight collar. I’d debated adding a tie, but I’d decided that would be overkill. Plus, my few ties were all super nerdy with the sort of inside-joke humor unlikely to go over well at this posh event.

“Well, you took the advice to heart.” Waylon patted my shoulder like he was fifteen years my senior rather than seven. “At least it’s good weather for the party.” He gestured beyond us to a large cement patio where several firepits had been set up along with twinkling white fairy lights. “Probably last tolerable weekend till spring.”

“Yep.” October in Pennsylvania was a mixed bag, the last gasp of nice weather, complete with pumpkin patches and apple harvests, alongside shorter days and cooler temperatures that said another mid-Atlantic winter wasn’t far off. “The fire pits are a fun fall touch.”

“More like a liability.” Waylon’s eyes narrowed in the way only a seasoned litigator could pull off. “Thank goodness we’ve got a babysitter, or the kids would be all over the open flames.”

“You should have brought them.” I didn’t hate my high-achieving brother, or my equally acclaimed sister, for that matter, but I adored my nieces and nephews. Being a beloved fun uncle was far better than being the much-younger surprise brother who had yet to measure up.

“You sound like Mom.” Waylon released a groan as he rolled his shoulders. His dress shirt was light gray, and while we had the same dark-brown hair, pale skin, and short, skinny build, he managed to look far more stately. “Everyone needs an adult evening every once in a while.”

“Eh. Adulthood is overrated.” The two years since I’d graduated from college had hammered that home.

“Says the guy whose usual idea of a party involves dice and orcs.” Waylon laughed like he hadn’t been equally as much of a nerd once upon a time.

“You used to be that guy too.” I gave him a pointed look.

“Yep. And then I grew up.” Waylon shrugged as if he had zero regrets about leaving his character sheets, Odyssey cards, and dice collection to me around the time he met Shannon and became the most boring dude in existence. “You’ll see when you finally settle down.”

“I’m in no rush,” I said airily.

I was twenty-four. Plenty of time to figure myself out and find a use for my communications degree beyond serving as our mother’s assistant at the local ballet school. Besides, Dungeons and Dragons campaigns and Odyssey tournaments were so much more fun than stuffy chamber music and forced mingling like this party.

“As we all know.” Waylon rolled his eyes in the way only an older brother could get away with before straightening back into his respectable civil rights lawyer self. “Oh, there’s Shannon with our drinks.”

“You should go help her.” I gestured toward his wife, who, while lacking even a hint of a nerdy bone in her tall, lanky body, was an otherwise lovely person currently toting two wine glasses across the crowded event space.

“Good call.” Waylon clapped me on the shoulder one more time. “I’ll catch up with you later. I want to hear how your work is going.”

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Keep You Safe (Second Chance Ranch #2) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/keep-you-safe-second-chance-ranch-2-read-online-annabeth-albert Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:25:25 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/keep-you-safe-second-chance-ranch-2-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Second Chance Ranch Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >81

What happens at the swimming hole, stays at the swimming hole…

When Adler arrives at Second Chance Ranch, I know he’s trouble. Adler gets under my skin like no
one else and threatens my quiet, orderly, ranch foreman life.

In fact, my body’s reaction to his presence is something of a surprise. When I have the chance to
explore the chemistry between us while secretly skinny dipping, I go for it because I know all too
well that city slickers never stay long.

Except Adler comes back…

And I’m tasked with training him to be a ranch hand. No matter how tempting Adler’s easy smiles
are, I can’t risk a repeat encounter for several

I’m his boss.
I hate gossip, especially when I’m the subject.
And doing my job right will always be my top priority.

Adler challenges all of that with chaos, rescue dogs, and an attraction that refuses to quit. As the
weeks pass, our connection deepens into a secret fling. My rodeo days taught me how to handle a
rough ride, but Adler has me falling fast.

Landing in the dirt is going to hurt, but I can’t bring myself to end things. Alder’s everything I never
knew I wanted, but he won’t be content with staying in the shadows forever. Can I be the cowboy he
needs and deserves before he’s gone for good?

Keep You Safe is book two in beloved author Annabeth Albert’s small-town Colorado cowboy romance
series with Yellowstone meets Schitt’s Creek vibes. This return to the ranch features a stoic foreman
and a younger city slicker turned ranch hand. Grumpy/sunshine, fish out of water, age gap with
mature main characters, reluctant coworkers, sensual exploration, hurt/comfort, found family, and
big feels with a standalone HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Adler

Late August

“I’m hot.” I sat on the back deck with Maverick, one of my best friends, sipping iced coffee and marveling at August in Southwestern Colorado. The earth itself seemed to heat up, a dry desert warmth that found us mid-morning, before the sun even reached its peak.

“Yeah, you are.” Maverick laughed knowingly. “And you enjoy hearing it.”

Was I that predictable? I twisted my mouth, not sure I liked how widely known my love of praise and attention was. I was over thirty, well into my aging twink phase, and undoubtedly needed to get beyond my youthful neediness.

“I meant temperature-wise. I’m broiling.” I tried not to sound as testy as I felt. Maverick had had a heck of a week and didn’t need my one-third life crisis. “You didn’t warn me it would be hotter than LA.”

“Sorry. You want to come with Hannah and me to the hospital?” Maverick offered. His sister had been in a recent car accident, upending much of the plans for my visit, which was secondary to Maverick’s stack of new worries. “The hospital has more powerful A/C than the ranch house.”

“Nah. You need the time with Faith.” I’d been with Maverick at the hospital the night of his sister’s accident, but to be honest, hospitals quietly made my hands sweat and my stomach wobble.

“I feel like I’m being a terrible host.”

“You’re being an amazing brother and uncle.” My boredom didn’t need to be his problem. Maverick understandably needed to focus on family. “That’s more important. I can amuse myself for a few hours.”

That was a bit of a white lie. I had precious few solitary hobbies. As a born extrovert, this week on Maverick’s ranch, away from my LA social life, had tested my capacity for alone time. Not that it was a bad thing. My social circle shrank considerably after I got sober, and learning how to be comfortable alone was undoubtedly something my therapist would applaud.

“You could always swim,” Maverick suggested idly.

“Swim? There’s a pool?” I gazed at the surrounding ranch—a collection of barns and outbuildings with a large horse facility up on a small hill and pastures and crop land beyond that. I hadn’t found a pool during my explorations.

“No, better. There’s a large pond north of the pastures.” Maverick gestured expansively. “Spring fed. Cold, clear water. Colt and I swam there all the time in high school. Bit of a hike, but I can draw you a map.”

“Absolutely. Getting out and stretching my legs sounds perfect.” Another white lie. I was easing my body back to a place of health and stamina after years of hard living, but the need to accommodate Maverick was greater than any trepidation over a solo hike.

“It’s more than a leg stretch.” Maverick fetched a pad of paper from the kitchen and brought it back out to the small table we were sitting at. He started drawing a rough map of the ranch. “You could grab a dirt bike from the machine shed if you know how to ride.”

I did not. Growing up on the Jersey Shore had not offered many opportunities for outdoor skills like dirt biking and hiking, but my innate need to please won out again.

“I’m happy hiking. Swimming sounds like a great reward for some exercise.”

Shortly after we finished our coffee, Maverick left me with the map. On his way to his car, with his niece Hannah trailing behind him, he reminded me to bring plenty of water and to watch out for rattlesnakes and wildlife, which hardly made me eager to hike. Accordingly, I took my sweet time finding and filling some reusable water bottles and assembling a few snacks. The hall closet yielded a small dusty backpack to hold my supplies and a canvas sun hat to shield my Irish complexion from the sun. I threw some sunscreen in the bag, and running out of reasons to stall, I grabbed Maverick’s map and headed for the hills.

The first part of the walk was hardly wilderness as I passed the barns, waving to some ranch hands working with the cattle and horses. The ranch had both seasonal summer and permanent hands, but neither group seemed particularly eager to make friends despite my efforts to greet them over the past week.

Foreman Foxy was nowhere to be seen, which was a darn shame. Maverick’s foreman was technically named Grayson and was the hottest thing over forty I’d seen in years. Short hair shot through with silver, tats, a perpetually stern expression, and an easy cowboy confidence that made him seem like something straight out of a Hollywood western. Naturally, I’d tried being friendly to him as well, but he was even less inclined to small talk than his ranch hands.

I trudged up the dirt road that wound past the fenced-in pastures. I’d learned earlier in the week that neither horses nor cows were fond of petting. The baby cows in particular looked all adorable and cuddly, but the one I’d managed to get a hand on through the fence had also been a biter, with an overbearing mama cow nearby.

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Want You Back (Second Chance Ranch #1) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/want-you-back-second-chance-ranch-1-read-online-annabeth-albert Wed, 04 Jun 2025 21:20:27 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/want-you-back-second-chance-ranch-1-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Second Chance Ranch Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >84

When Maverick Lovelorn left town, it almost broke me. I’m determined to not let his return do the same.

Then
In high school, Maverick and I were best friends. Inseparable. We shared everything from video games to camping adventures to a first kiss that shattered everything I knew about myself. Our first love was sweet and true and not nearly enough to keep Maverick on the ranch he hated.

Now
Twenty years later, Maverick’s back in town to sell the ranch he’s inherited. As the sheriff, I know losing the ranch will devastate the county. The area needs Maverick to stay. As a single dad with far more than my own heart on the line, I need him gone. Rekindling our friendship would be a Grand Canyon-sized mistake. But then we kiss, and every old feeling comes rushing back.

Now What?
My heart wants Maverick, but my brain knows he’ll leave again. How can I ask him to stay somewhere with so many painful memories? He might be healing day by day, but I struggle to trust in second chances. Is there a way for us to ride off into the sunset together?

Want You Back is book one in a new small-town Colorado cowboy romance series from beloved author Annabeth Albert with Yellowstone meets Schitt’s Creek vibes. It features the return of a ranch owner’s son and the sheriff who never forgot him. Mature main characters, high school friends with feelings to adult lovers, steamy reunion romance, hurt/comfort, found family, and big feels with a standalone HEA guaranteed!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

“True friendship doesn’t fade with distance—it grows stronger with every trail ridden.”

~sign in the Lovelorn Bunkhouse

Chapter 1

Colt

Now

The black luxury import with California plates was begging for a ticket. I’d spent enough years as a deputy in the Disappointment County Sheriff’s office that I accurately clocked the driver doing eighty in a fifty-five even before I used my radar. As sheriff, I didn’t usually get involved with traffic stops, but I was more than happy to make an exception for the out-of-towner. Honestly, my job was way more meetings and personnel matters than law enforcement, and I missed being out in the field something fierce.

The chance to flip on my lights was a fun novelty, as was chasing down the little import. Clearly a tourist because a sports car wouldn’t make it through a single Colorado winter. I did take a moment to admire the zippy handling as the car hugged the curvy county road. I’d first caught sight of the car coming off Highway 491, and if anything, he’d sped up once free of the area’s main highway. The driver took his sweet time noticing me in his rearview, making my admiration slide right into irritation.

The driver finally got the idea to pull over onto a side road shortly before the turnoff for Lovelorn Ranch. Oh. With Melvin Lovelorn’s death a week ago, chances were high that this city slicker was a vulture here to circle. The family had opted not to hold public services, not entirely a shocker for the town patriarch few would miss. However, the Lovelorn Gazette had a pretty little write-up on the front page, and in a state with ranch land at a premium, more than a few savvy real estate types were known to comb obituaries.

I ran the license plate, but as usual, the system was beyond slow. I called in the stop to our dispatch in case I needed backup and asked Dolores to run the plate for me while I went and talked to the driver.

Well and truly irritated, I didn’t have to work to put on my meanest glare along with my cowboy hat as I strode toward the sports car. Always paid to be cautious, so I approached nice and slow, senses on red alert for potential problems. Dude certainly knew the drill, though, both hands on the steering wheel, window already rolled down, gaze straight ahead behind designer sunglasses. Heck, he even had his wallet out and open on the seat next to him.

I couldn’t wait for Dolores to get back to me on those plates. This guy was likely sitting on a stack of tickets in multiple states. No way was I letting him off with a warning.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” I asked as I approached the driver’s side window. My pulse sped up because this was always a critical moment during traffic stops. If he was armed, inclined to be a runner, or ready to be belligerent, now was when he’d play his hand.

“Reckon I was a smidge over the limit.” The guy had a smooth voice, more Western than the typical California accent. No slur to his speech, but I hadn’t ruled out a field sobriety test. He kept his hands on the wheel, no visible tremor, so I moved my observations to his face. The sunglasses obscured what looked to be a slim, chiseled Caucasian face. Scruffy jawline like he hadn’t shaved since California. Not a kid. Likely somewhere between thirty-five and forty-five, judging by the short brown hair with no signs of gray.

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Over and Above (Mount Hope #4) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/over-and-above-mount-hope-4-read-online-annabeth-albert Wed, 19 Mar 2025 15:57:02 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/over-and-above-mount-hope-4-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Mount Hope Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

I’m too young to be a grandpa and too old to fall in love…

Sadly, there’s no What to Expect manual for navigating life after forty. Right when I’ve begun piecing together my life as a widower and single dad to four older kids, my college-age daughter announces she’s pregnant. Oh, baby. And, of course, the other grandfather-to-be is the hot, single bar owner seemingly determined to flirt his way into my locked heart. Magnus is a temptation I don’t need.

When a fire leaves Magnus and his dogs without a home, I offer my carriage house as a solution. Temptation turns into a friendship I didn’t know I needed, and now, Magnus and I are cooking, watching silly old movies, planning holidays, and preparing for grandparenthood together. Things are perfect…until I kiss Magnus.

I’ve never had a friendship with secret benefits, but our chemistry is undeniable, and I cannot resist the chance to explore and reignite my passionate side. I didn’t think I could love again, but the lock on my heart suddenly seems quite loose.

Our families are entangled, Magnus isn’t meant for the shadows, and I’m not sure my kids are ready for me to date. Can I trust my heart to love again? Or will I find myself alone once more?

Over and Above is the fourth book in the Mount Hope series. A widowed paramedic who’s met his match in a cocky bar owner is about to discover that life truly does bring second chances when we least expect them. Over and Above features mature main characters, hurt comfort, grumpy sunshine, love after loss, second chance at HEA, found family, slow burn to spicy inferno, and big feels. Each Mount Hope book contains a standalone HEA, but reading in order is recommended for maximum reader enjoyment

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Three Months Ago

Eric

“You’re alone.”

“Excuse me?” Coming to The Heist had been a mistake. I had no idea what had possessed⁠—

Okay, yes, I did. And perhaps I’d even subconsciously counted on Magnus, the owner of the bar and grill that occupied the old bank building, being on duty. But certainly not consciously, and Magnus’s pointed comment as I walked toward the massive polished bar made me want to turn right around.

“I meant you always come in with a crowd like your roommates or your after-work crew.” Magnus’s tone was as unflappable as ever, that charming, slightly flirty lilt that drove me up the exposed brick walls. He was perhaps a little younger than me, yet definitely over forty. His closely cropped, almost bald head made it hard to judge his age. And clearly, he spent far more time in the gym, what with the bulging, tatted-up muscular arms peeking out from his black T-shirt. “Nice to see you. Grab a seat.” Magnus gestured at the row of empty barstools. It was late, past the dinner rush on a weeknight, with only a smattering of patrons lingering at tables. “Your usual beer? And what can I get started for you food-wise?”

“Not beer. I want something stronger.” Magnus knowing my usual brand of pale ale irritated me to no end, which was exposed by my clipped tone. But I’d come for a drink, something with a kick and a burn that would make me forget—at least temporarily—this week from hell. “Scot— No, not that.”

I’d started to order a scotch on the rocks, but that had been Montgomery’s thing. He’d had a sophisticated taste with a collection of top-shelf whiskeys to match. I pursed my lips as I considered what I did want. Rum and Coke? Lord. Remove Montgomery’s influence, and my drinking tastes went right back to my teens.

“I’ve got a new dessert tequila in that’s amazing.” Magnus fetched an opaque blue bottle that looked more suitable for housing a genie than liquor. “Silky finish, notes of caramel and citrus.”

“Tequila makes me think of college.” It would have the burn I was after, but I could almost see Montgomery’s quiet look of distaste for the whole salt-and-lime ritual.

“This one won’t. It’s designed to be sipped slowly.” Magnus’s ever-present grin was even more seductive than said genie, not that I’d have the first clue what to wish for. Or rather, what to wish for that was remotely feasible. Apparently sensing he had me, Magnus fetched a tall, narrow flute with a long stem, a vessel befitting such a fancy liquor. “And first pour is on the house.”

“Why are you always so nice to me?” I asked as he slid the glass of clear liquid my way. It sparkled under the bar’s warm lighting, as captivating as the many shades of Magnus’s hazel eyes. And that right there was why Magnus irritated me. I noticed him in a way I hadn’t noticed anyone in years, certainly not since before Montgomery got sick. Which brought us back to my reason for drinking in the first place. The one-year anniversary of my husband’s passing had come and gone, and the whole week had been full of friends checking to see how I was coping. Badly. But of course I couldn’t say that.

“Besides a nice attitude being good for business?” Magnus gave a warm, rich chuckle. “Our kids are friends. I figure we should be too.”

“Our kids…” I had to think for a second as to which of my four the statement might apply to. “Oh right, you’re Diesel’s dad.”

Diesel was a nineteen- or twenty-year-old blue-haired punk type with almost as many tattoos as his father, and he had an on-again, off-again frenemy thing going with my oldest kid Maren, who was in college. Over the last year, they seemed to have evolved into more of an actual friendship, or at least, Maren tolerating Diesel’s antics more.

“I claim him.” Magnus’s smile took on a proud edge. “And it wasn’t your ambulance crew, but your firefighter friends and the helicopter folks did save him last year. I’m grateful to first responders of all stripes.”

“I’m glad he’s doing better.” Last summer, Diesel had suffered a nasty fall while hiking, ending up with an impalement injury, but thanks to quick intervention, he’d lived, and from what little I could glean from Maren, he’d made a full recovery.

“He is.” Magnus sounded relieved in a way my dad heart could relate to, along with more of that pride. “He’s gainfully employed now with his first promotion. He’s out at the big shipping warehouse. Maren keeps harping on him about taking classes, but school was never much his thing.”

“Guess it’s not for everyone.” I took a sip of my tequila at last, and my tongue tingled from the myriad of flavors—smoke, caramel, lime, sugar cookies—all wrapped in a bright ribbon of liquor. “Wow, this is amazing.”

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Among Friends (Mount Hope #4) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/among-friends-mount-hope-4-read-online-annabeth-albert Tue, 28 Jan 2025 08:14:36 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/among-friends-mount-hope-4-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Mount Hope Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >18

What are the chances?

When I have a snowboarding accident, the last person I expect to see in the ER waiting room is Tennessee. My Tennessee. My childhood best friend who moved away in middle school without warning. We both have broken wrists and an urge to reconnect.

The gawky kid I once knew has been replaced by a cute, sweet, wounded, and vulnerable man whom I'm instantly attracted to. He's shy, though, and I need to take things slow to show him that this time he's sticking around forever—with me.

Among Friends is a sweet, steamy novella set in the Mount Hope universe but stands alone as a series prequel. It features an EMT hero determined to win his childhood best friend's heart. It contains all the low angst, hurt-comfort vibes that are heavy on comfort and big swoony, falling-in-love feels. Originally featured in the Heart2Heart anthology, the story has a new cover and a preview of Up All Night, Mount Hope Book 1.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Tennessee

“This isn’t how I expected our date to end.” Carefully cradling my swollen wrist, I turned toward Gunter. He drove a souped-up Hummer, which should have been my first clue that our date was doomed.

“Uh-huh.” Thus far, the guy appeared to have a conversational vocabulary of twelve words, most of them grunted syllables. Gunter wore a too-small T-shirt advertising a popular gym chain under a thin windbreaker and his nylon track pants were no match for his thickly muscled legs. That should have been my second clue. Gunter was a jock, and I was…well me. Skinny, no muscles, and no idea what to do with weight machines. Oh, and on my way to the emergency room exactly seven minutes into our blind date.

“Maybe we could do dinner after my x-rays?” I didn’t hold out a lot of hope, but the CUPID algorithm on the Heart2Heart app had matched us, after all. CUPID was supposed to find soulmates for us lonely gay dudes—or so the app made it seem.

“Dude, I’m not waiting around.” For a supposed soulmate, Gunter had a surprising lack of soul. And heart. He followed the signs at the Mount Hope Regional Medical Center to pull up at the entrance labeled Emergency Room in giant red letters. “You can get out here.”

“Well, thanks for the ride.” I shrugged, which jostled my injured arm and made me wince. I supposed I should be grateful Gunter hadn’t made me use a ride-share app to get to the hospital. Or worse, call 9-1-1 for what could turn out to simply be a bad sprain. But if he was my soulmate, shouldn’t he want to wait with me? Or at least follow-up? Exchange contact info? Something.

“You sure you don’t want a raincheck? I figured since CUPID’s great track record matched us, you might want to try again?”

“Stupid CUPID is glitchy as fuck.” Gunter’s full lips twisted. He was disgustingly easy on the eyes. If one was into blond muscle-bound jerks, which I was decidedly not. “You’re the third match it’s given me this week. Soulmate finder. Hah. I can’t even get a decent hookup out of the app.”

Hookup was right up there with jock, muscles, off-roading, and gym on the list of words that didn’t apply to me.

“Ah. Good luck then.” I exited the Hummer, which wasn’t easy to do without the use of my dominant hand and with all my other bumps and bruises. Instead of an emphatic stomp off, I had to settle for awkwardly slithering to the ground and limping toward the wide double glass doors. For his part, Gunter zoomed away before I was fully on the sidewalk. Jerk.

Much as I’d like to find my person, I’d settle for someone pleasant to talk with, someone who cared enough to text asking about my day. Someone who stuck around past a single date. Apparently, I’d set my hopes too high.

Or perhaps I was simply a too-nerdy flavor the CUPID algorithm had no idea how to match. A depressing thought. And likely what I got for assuming artificial intelligence could find me a soulmate. Or a date.

Instead, here I was, banged up and bruised in more than one way, entering the ER on a gloriously sunny February Saturday in the Columbia River Gorge. Predictably, the waiting room was packed. The clear day had lured a number of fresh-faced hikers and skiers out, and now they filled the room with hastily bandaged wounds or ice packs. There was also the usual assortment of sneezing and sniffling winter flu patients and injured kids from Saturday daredevil activities. A dude wearing a Kiss The Cook apron with missing eyebrows and singed hair had clearly used the good weather to barbecue.

As I searched for a seat, my gaze landed on a familiar-looking face. Around my age, the man was shorter with muscles for days. Not as thick as Gunter by any means, but someone who evidently knew his way around all those intimidating gym machines. Unlike Gunter and his Hollywood looks, this guy had a face more intriguing than classically handsome with a light golden complexion, mixed-race features hinting at both Black and Polynesian ancestry, and wide, mesmerizing dark eyes. However, before I could figure out why the man seemed so familiar, one of the women working the registration desk waved me over. The badge on a lanyard around her neck with a bored-looking ID picture said her name was Madeline.

Older with a clipped demeanor, Madeline asked the usual triage questions about whether I was experiencing any dire symptoms like chest pain or dizziness.

“Nothing like that.” I pursed my mouth. Perhaps I should have looked harder to see if Mount Hope had any freestanding urgent care options. Madeline’s brusque attitude made me feel guilty for not being more of a critical case. “It’s my hand. Or wrist. I don’t know. I felt a pop when I fell, and it hurts…a lot.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 >18

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Deck the Palms – An Annabeth Albert Christmas Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/deck-the-palms-an-annabeth-albert-christmas-read-online-annabeth-albert Thu, 19 Dec 2024 11:50:34 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/deck-the-palms-an-annabeth-albert-christmas-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Advertisement

Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >73

Nolan Bell has a very Merry problem this holiday season…

As a native New Yorker, I’ve always dreamed of my name in lights on Broadway. But when my Army officer brother calls in a favor, I wind up in Hawaii to help his family while he’s deployed.

A winter in paradise doesn’t sound too bad until I become the substitute choir teacher at a middle school near the base. Wrangling a bunch of tweens while planning the annual school holiday lights festival is a far cry from playing Peter Pan.
Enter Merrick “Merry” Winters, the school’s grumpy but hot shop teacher. I can win over any audience, but Merry’s a tough sell. And I need his help to make the festival successful.

The more time I spend with Merry, the less grumpy he seems, and the more I like the guy. He’s the third generation of a legendary North Shore surfing family. He’s committed to raising his twin boys on the island as a single dad. And like me, he doesn’t have time for an inconvenient but undeniable attraction.

As disasters pile up, the only holiday magic Merry and I seem to be making is with each other. What starts as a harmless fling becomes the only present I want under my tree.

If I want this romance to last past New Year’s, I have to decide which dreams are truly worth chasing.

Can Merry and I catch a wave for a future together before the sun sets on this holiday season?

A brand-new holiday romance from the author of the beloved The Geek Who Saved Christmas starring two middle school teachers in over their heads in an opposites-attract, fish-out-of-water romance. Deck the Palms features a slightly grumpy single dad and a sunny city slicker navigating family dynamics amid holiday small-town romance vibes with a side of Hawaiian sunshine. Guaranteed low-angst, feel-good, happy ending with a heaping helping of holiday spice!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

Welcome to November, ohana! It was lovely to see so many of our middle school family members at our Autumn Festival. Now, the countdown begins for our annual Lights Festival. Mrs. Crenshaw is on a medical leave of absence, but never fear! Our holiday extravaganza is in excellent hands…

NOLAN

I stared down at the colorful newsletter distributed to students during last period and sent to parents via email. As someone who’d enjoyed a rocky relationship with reviewers, I tried to believe any press was good press. However, Principal Alana was testing that belief by way overselling my talents for a job I’d only learned about twenty minutes prior.

“Are you sure you want a substitute in charge of something so important?” I asked Principal Alana. She had arrived at the choir room shortly after the final bell sounded, undoubtedly to prevent my escape with the students and ensure my attendance at the holiday festival planning meeting.

“First, you’re not just a sub. You’re a Broadway star.” The principal was barely over five feet with long dark hair piled on her head. Many of the middle schoolers were bigger, and indeed, she didn’t look much older than the eighth graders. However, the principal had a voice worthy of commanding a fleet. “You’re exactly the shakeup this festival needs after years of the same script.”

“Star might be pushing it,” I said demurely. Sure, my resume was full of production credits, and if we counted Off-Off-Broadway, a few leading roles, but no one in New York would ever mistake me for a star. Perhaps things were different in Hawaii.

“Second, I’ll be honest, we don’t have a ton of other options.” Principal Alana continued her forthright attack on my resistance. Unlike the cushy New York private high schools where I encountered stiff competition for my substitute teaching and voice-lesson gigs, I’d apparently been the only applicant for the role of substitute choir director and drama teacher at this public fine arts magnet middle school. It was a sobering thought.

Impervious to my glum thoughts, Principal Alana plowed ahead. “Merry Winters will help, of course, but Merry lacks your flare. However, you can count on the industrial arts students to deliver whatever decorating vision the two of you arrive at.”

Merry Winters. I immediately visualized the industrial arts teacher as a kind, gray-haired British hippy lady. Probably ever so slightly butch, what with the woodworking classes, but churning out domestic projects like cutting boards and candlestick holders. Good at set construction, but seeking the guidance of a plucky Broadway star for this holiday festival.

And yes, I was exactly vain enough to love that vision.

“Lucky for you, I’m a praise wh—junkie, and all that ego stroking worked.” I winked at Principal Alana, narrowly avoiding calling myself a praise whore in front of my boss for the next two months. “Lead the way to this meeting.”

“How was the first day of classes?” she asked as we navigated the wide hallway lined with lockers, artwork, rules and reminders, and varied club and activity announcements.

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On the Edge (Mount Hope #3) Read Online Annabeth Albert http://www.wownovels.com/on-the-edge-mount-hope-3-read-online-annabeth-albert Wed, 30 Oct 2024 13:02:30 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/on-the-edge-mount-hope-3-read-online-annabeth-albert Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Annabeth Albert Series: Mount Hope Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >81

DANGER! RIDING TOO CLOSE TO THE EDGE!

My life is one big caution sign. Ever since my best friend’s all-grown-up son joined our shared home, I’ve been navigating a growing attraction to the injured motocross rider. Declan unleashes every protective and caretaking impulse I have, and I genuinely love spending time with the guy.

But Declan’s too young, too straight, and too temporary to risk a twenty-year friendship over. At least until he kisses me, and I tumble past forbidden attraction into a doomed secret fling.

What starts as exploration for Declan quickly transforms into an undeniable bond. He’s exactly what I’ve been searching for: a ride-or-die partner in crime who is happy making blanket forts, talking late into the night, and shares my love of cozy books and movies. What could be more perfect?

When Declan faces a crucial choice, both our hearts are on the line. Can we avoid falling over the edge into heartbreak?

ON THE EDGE is book three of the Mount Hope first responder series and features an emergency room nurse practitioner who is hopelessly soft for his best friend’s son. This dad’s best friend, hurt/comfort (heavy on the comfort), age gap romance contains small town feels, big emotional growth, and sizzling romance. While certain subplot threads continue throughout the series, each guaranteed happily ever after stands alone!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Declan

“Declan, time to go.”

My life these days was measured in fractions of a second. The milliseconds it took my bike to start, change gears, the time from the gate drop to make the holeshot, lap time, the seconds behind the leader, and so on. And every moment on and off the track was scheduled. Practice. Workout. Qualifying heat times. Meals. And the never-ending prescheduled publicity and media appearances. Stacey was only doing her job, but I still grimaced as she bumped the back of my chair. “Come on. Media’s waiting.”

A young family with two elementary-aged boys reached the front of my line, which had snaked around the Fan Zone all morning.

“One more picture?” the redheaded mom asked. She had on ill-advised sandals and wore the sort of weary expression of someone who hadn’t anticipated the amount of noise, dust, people, and walking at a motocross event.

“Please, Mr. Murphy?” The older boy had big eyes and ensured my butt stayed right where it was, impatient Stacey or not.

“Come on over here, kid. Let’s let your mom get a fast pic.” I motioned both kids over and smiled big, even as Stacey groaned.

“We’re running out of time.”

“Sorry, kids. That’ll have to do.” I shooed them away, but not before I slipped them a few stickers and promotional goodies, including coupons for the energy drink company Stacey worked for.

“Okay, that’s done. On to media.” Flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder, she adjusted her tight black T-shirt as I finally stood. She was on the move before I slid my chair under the folding table and was halfway to the exit of the Fan Zone when I caught up. “Thank God your family didn’t come to this race.”

“Why would you say that?” I was also relieved, but I didn’t like her exasperated tone.

“There are like nine zillion Murphys, your dad has another trillion friends, and those friends all have kids, and you always spend way too much time and energy entertaining all of them.” She exhaled hard as she wrapped up her rant, holding up her manicured hands. “You need this win, Declan.”

“I know.” I groaned as I followed her down the wide-access corridor under the stadium.

“Plus, you’ve said that things have been awkward with your dad since he started living with that guy.”

“Denver. My dad’s partner’s name is Denver. They have kittens now…” I trailed off because no way was Stacey interested in my dad’s domestic bliss. And yeah, I’d been a bit slow in accepting Denver’s existence, but not for the reasons Stacey assumed. “Anyway, I get what you’re saying. I need my head in the game today. No distractions.”

My gaze drifted away from Stacey to a pair of arena girls—the women who held up sign placards at the start of a race. They were both in tight black pants and microscopic tanks as they juggled giant signs.

Stacey made a frustrated noise. “For the love of God, stop auditioning my replacement.”

“I’m not.” I adopted my most wounded tone. “Their signs were crooked.”

“Uh-huh, and you’re the one to fix it.”

“You know I usually manage to stay friends with my exes.”

I gave her a pointed look as she continued to click-clack her way down the corridor with purposeful strides in her designer boots. Stacey and I dated for a hot minute last spring. As with almost all of my friends-to-girlfriends, I thought things might be different this time, but our grand romance turned out to be a fling that hadn’t survived a single racing season.

“We’re friends.” Stacey offered the fakest of smiles. “But this is also a business, and the sponsor isn’t going to pony up more dough unless you take over as points leader and wrap up this championship.”

She really meant that her days of using her influence over my biggest sponsor were done, and with never-ending competition for limited sponsorship dough, only wins mattered. And recent wins at that. A rider was only as good as his last race.

“Last week was a fluke.” I’d suffered a bad start in the final race, played catch-up, then sustained a gnarly crash two-thirds of the way through the race due to some lappers who missed the waving blue flag and didn’t move out of the way. Banged up and pissed off at the slower riders, I hadn’t come anywhere close to the podium, and my prior trophies were starting to feel mighty dusty. “And the week before that.” That one I blamed on my suspension not being precisely dialed in. Bike just hadn’t felt right the whole ride. “But I’ve got a good feeling today.”

“Excellent.” Stacey motioned me into the media area, where the national TV reporter was already waiting, cameras ready to roll.

“Declan. Man of the hour. Way to win your qualifier.” The reporter was Mark O’Shay, a former champion whose career was cut short due to injuries. He’d had two knee replacements and wasn’t yet forty.

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