Max Monroe – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Max Monroe – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:46:30 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Max Monroe – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Garbage Man (Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/garbage-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-1-read-online-max-monroe Wed, 13 May 2026 18:46:30 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/garbage-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-1-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Vampires Authors: Max Monroe Series: Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >55

He collects trash for a living.
Before sunrise, he’s collecting her.

Rook Slater is big, brutal, and permanently grumpy. By day, he’s a garbage man. By night, he plays hockey and keeps the world at arm’s length.

Until the fated mate bond strikes hard and fast. One look at Kylie Moon—right after his twenty-eighth birthday—and destiny snaps into place.

She’s his.

There’s just one problem.

Her blood is rare—coveted—and the monsters in the shadows want to claim her.
Evil. Elite. Powerful. These are the kind of men who stop at nothing to have what they want.

But Rook Slater doesn’t lose what’s his.
And he certainly doesn’t bend the knee.

He’s good at taking out the trash—and these monsters are next.

Once fate locks in, Rook won’t just fight for the woman he loves.
He’ll kidnap and kill for her

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

Rook

She tries to scream.

I see it before I hear it—the sharp inhale, the panic flaring in her eyes as her mouth opens and nothing comes out. Her breath goes ragged, and she twists her arm violently in the fucking asshole’s grip.

But his hold tightens around her wrist. His mind—and those of the two suited gofers with him—is very much focused on getting Kylie into their Escalade that’s parked in her driveway. I shouldn’t be able to hear their thoughts, but I can. Because of her.

“Stop, Kylie,” he says, already annoyed. “We don’t have time for this.”

The sound of her name on his lips is the final line crossed. I’m out of the Suburban before Kane can even pull it to a stop and stride up her driveway.

“Take your hand off her.”

The man freezes. All three men do, in fact.

I’ve never seen these men. I don’t know them personally, but I know e-fucking-nough to know exactly who they work for and why they’re here.

“Rook Slater,” the one with eyes so light they look transparent says. “We heard some rumblings. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” A faint smile tugs at his mouth. He’s enjoying this. I will fucking kill him.

“This doesn’t involve you,” the man holding Kylie’s arm spits.

“Yeah,” I say evenly. “It does. Because it involves her.”

“She’s coming with us.”

“No. She’s fucking not.” It’s all I say before I make my move. One second, my hand is empty, and the next, I’m behind him, dragging him back by his neck.

She is mine, motherfucker. And no one touches what’s mine.

His grip on Kylie breaks, and my forearm locks around his throat.

And I don’t hesitate then; I yank. Hard.

There’s a sharp crack beneath my arm, and a wet, choking sound leaves his throat. His body jerks once, then goes slack. I hold him there a second longer, just to be sure.

Then I drop his lifeless body to the ground.

Kylie stumbles back, freed from his hold, and shock steals the strength from her legs.

The one with the creepy transparent eyes lunges, but Kane hits him mid-step—muscle crushing bone and the impact sharp enough to echo off the house. The man collapses in a heap, and Calloway has the third man pinned against the Escalade and is landing punch after punch to his face before the man can even register the instinct to fight back.

It’s fucking vicious and violent, but it’s necessary. And at lightning-quick speed, the speed only men like us can utilize, we ensure all three of these motherfuckers won’t be opening their eyes again.

I turn to Kylie. Her wild and terrified gaze finds mine.

“Kylie,” I say as calmly as I can. “We have to go.”

She shakes her head, her body frozen. “What—”

“Now,” I snap, urgency breaking through. “We have to go now.”

She doesn’t move. At this point, I know there won’t be any talking her down or convincing her with words. I can tell by the stiffness in her posture and the rod in her spine and the panic-shakes of her hands.

But we have to go. We have to get the fuck out of here.

I’m going to have to take her. Whether she wants to go or not.

I close the distance between us, and her feet retreat instinctively toward the garage. It breaks my heart to see her this scared, but I have to do what I have to do.

I’m sorry, Ky. Really, I am.

“Rook,” she pleads. “Please. Don’t.”

I step in, pin her arms to her sides, and lift her over my shoulder. She fights me—kicking, twisting, screaming—but I don’t slow down.

“Rook, no!” she gasps. “Put me down!”

I don’t.

Her heart beats faster as my brothers and I take her toward the Suburban with haste.

She screams and fights and cries, and I grind my jaw against the discomfort without slowing my stride.

In this moment, she believes she’ll die at my hands if she doesn’t escape.

What she doesn’t know is how much she’ll suffer under theirs if she does.

Kylie

Wham.

A face slams against the plexiglass before sliding down dramatically, and the brute who sent the poor soul into it skates away while chuckling to his teammates.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >55

Advertisement
Demolition Man (Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/demolition-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-1-read-online-max-monroe Wed, 13 May 2026 18:46:28 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/demolition-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-1-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Vampires Authors: Max Monroe Series: Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >65

He’ll demolish what stands in the way of her.
Even if it’s an empire.
Calloway Slater is quiet, methodical, and the kind of man who makes his living tearing things apart with steady hands and zero hesitation.
But in the last two weeks, things have taken a dramatic shift.
His brothers are mated.
The Elite Council of Vampires wants them dead.
And their uncle is playing a dangerous game Cal doesn’t trust.
Now, because of an ultimatum, he’s standing at the auction—as a participant.
As vampires gather and naïve human women swoon, Cal races the clock to bring the whole thing down before it’s too late.
But when he meets the eyes of beautiful Romy Spencer in the middle of it all, the bond detonates.
Suddenly, this isn’t about survival.
It’s about her.
And if saving Romy means reducing the elite empire to rubble—or getting killed in the process—so be it.
Because once destiny ignites, Calloway Slater doesn’t surrender.
He destroys.

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

Calloway

My presence in this room alone makes me feel complicit in an act so evil, it should earn a one-way ticket straight to hell.

A man I barely know sits beside me, watching from the corner of his eye as women are paraded across the room like products in a commercial.

It doesn’t matter that this stranger calls himself my uncle.

It doesn’t matter that his bringing me here may have saved my life.

What matters is the demeaning, objectifying, downright degrading scene that plays out in front of me.

Woman after woman in skimpy lingerie is brought through a door and guided onto a raised platform in the center. White numbers sit in front of them like lots in an estate sale.

Some smile and strut, while others do their best to maintain their composure under the bright, blinding lights.

I sit behind a one-way mirror alongside one hundred other male vampires waiting to place a bid on the woman of their choosing via an iPad system designed to maintain fairness and “order.”

My skin crawls with discomfort and disgust, but to these men, this is normal.

Though, the real match strikes when she completes the line, stepping up to the left side of the platform and squinting into the light.

Auburn hair, black lingerie, and sweet cerulean eyes form a picture built for illicit temptation, met with the men’s cruel indifference to the fear trembling through her body.

And when I see her hands shake, a silent scream begs for freedom from my throat.

She’s not the only reason I’m doing this—far from it.

This is a moral imperative. A change to the way my fellow vampires live and the special relationship we have with humans. This is a reckoning for the good of the world and for the safety of women who’ve been used for years.

This is justice.

This is a revolution.

But she—Romy Spencer—makes it personal.

When I’m done with this place, every one of these monsters will beg for mercy while my brothers and I make sure they burn—no matter what it costs us.

Romy

The dullness of distraction grays my normally cerulean eyes in the big mirror of the Neiman Marcus bathroom as I wash my hands.

Outside the door, my mother waits impatiently to shop for my funeral.

“Romy! Hurry up,” she commands, peeking her head in.

“Okay,” I agree complacently before mumbling my dissent under my breath. “It’s not like it’s a normal bodily function to have to pee or anything.”

Or like it’s not outrageous that we’re celebrating this shit anyway.

It’s not that I’m afraid to stand up for myself—it’s that I’ve been trying that to no avail for far too many years. Truly a futile endeavor at this point.

Snatching two paper towels from the holder and drying my hands, I sidle out of the bathroom with dread.

Of course, my mother has my elbow in hand before the door closes behind us, and we’re on the move again.

We’re closing in on hour three of shopping, and as of yet, she’s not happy with anything. It’s too modest. Too slutty. Too polyester, too pink, too blue, too fricking human.

I tried reminding her that’s what we are, but she wasn’t thrilled with that brush with reality. For her, being called to this assignment is as close as you can get to nobility, and that requires a royal outfit befitting Princess Kate.

“You leave for New York tonight,” she blathers, working herself into a fluster all over again with clout-chasing excitement. “If we don’t find something here, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“Hey, I know!” I snap excitedly. “I’ll just skip it. I’m too young to die anyway.”

“Romy Spencer, stop it right now,” she barks. “Stop complaining about this privilege and belittling the process that’s been very important to our family for generations. And for the love of God, stop referring to it as your funeral. You’re on my last nerve with that one.” She lets out a long sigh. “Let’s not forget that, despite my better judgment, I let you skip the Choosing Mixer.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >65

Advertisement
Repo Man (Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires #2) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/repo-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-2-read-online-max-monroe Wed, 13 May 2026 18:46:25 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/repo-man-blue-collar-vigilante-vampires-2-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Vampires Authors: Max Monroe Series: Blue Collar Vigilante Vampires Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >60

She was never theirs to claim. She’s his.
And the repo man is here to collect.
Kane Slater is a blue-collar vampire with a killer smile, easy wit, and just enough charm to make you forget how dangerous he can be. But charm doesn’t buy entry into the elite’s masked gala— in fact, they think he’s better off dead.
But with his brothers’ lives on the line, he sneaks inside anyway—and finds his fated mate on display.
Her blood, valuable. Her future, sold.
Unfortunately for him, Blair Windsor’s been raised to believe that the vampire elite’s auction is a glittering fairy tale.
Kane knows better.
If Blair goes to auction, the life she’s dreamed of will be replaced by a nightmare.
So he does what he does best.
He reclaims what was never rightfully theirs.
Starting with her

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

Blair

The vampire with the green eyes is the handsomest one.

Obviously. Duh.

He’s not the tallest one in my new doll set—that one has dark hair and a scar painted across his cheek like he’s a scary fighter or something—but he’s the one I like best. His hair is a soft yellowish color, and his eyes are a funny kind of green that look kind of purple if you tilt him just right.

I like to tilt him a lot.

I am nine years old today, which means I’m officially old enough to stay up later than my little sister Bonnie and pick my own cake. I like strawberry with vanilla buttercream. It’s the best cake in the whole wide world.

Mommy and Daddy gave me this doll set during my birthday party this afternoon. It was a big party—more big than last year—with lots of my mommy and daddy’s friends. And very important people too. At least, that’s what my mommy told me. She said some of Daddy’s important businesspeople came to celebrate with me because I’m such a special girl.

And I like when Daddy’s important people come because they always bring the biggest, most fancy gifts.

I wore a pretty pink dress and white shiny shoes. My mommy said my dress costed a lot of moneys and that she got it at a really fancy store. I think it’s called Channel? I don’t know, but it’s my mommy’s favorite store.

Anyway, my party was huge, and I got to open so many gifts.

My daddy is an important businessman. I don’t know what his business is, but my mommy says it’s very important. My mommy doesn’t have a job, but she’s too busy to have a job. That’s why me and my baby sister Bonnie spend so much time with our nanny Celeste.

My nanny Celeste is the best. She’s—

I hear footsteps near my door.

Oh no! I’m supposed to be asleep!

I dive under my blankets and pretend I’m sleeping.

And I wait and wait and wait there under my blankets until my warm breath starts to make me all itchy and sweaty.

But when Mommy or Daddy or Nanny Celeste doesn’t knock on my door, I push my blankets off my face and let out a big, deep breath. Holy moly, it was getting hot under there.

I turn on my night-light by my bed and sit up again.

And I line my vampire dolls back up so I can look at them all.

Yep. The vampire doll with the green eyes is definitely the most handsome.

He’s my favorite.

I pick him up and hold him in my right hand, and then I pick up the human girl doll with “Blair” embroidered on the dress in pretty pink letters with my left. Blair is my name, and this doll is supposed to be me. My Blair doll’s dress is white but also kind of yellowish. I think my mommy calls the color creamy.

It reminds me of a dress Mommy keeps in her closet in a big box with tissue paper all around it. It’s the dress she wore when she married Daddy.

I press the doll’s faces close together. “You’ve been chosen,” I say in my deepest, most serious voice, making the vampire doll talk.

The Blair doll gasps. I make her gasp. “Chosen?” I make her whisper.

“Yes,” I answer for him. “Your mommy and daddy said you’re a special girl.”

“Why am I special?”

“Because of your blood.”

My mommy told me that I’m getting old enough now to learn more big-girl things, and that was one of the things she told me when she was talking to me about secret stuff I’m not supposed to talk about.

But I have blood inside my body. Every human does. But my blood is good blood. Vampires like my blood a lot. It makes me special.

Mommy says they found out about my blood when I was a baby. And some of my daddy’s most important friends know about it too.

Good blood is a very special gift, my mommy says.

My daddy and my mommy aren’t vampires. They’re humans like me. But my mommy says that I am so special because of my special blood that I will be chosen by one of the most important, strongest, most special vampire boys when I’m a grown-up girl.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >60

Advertisement
The Fifteen-Minute Rule (Dickson University #3) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:50 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult Authors: Max Monroe Series: Dickson University Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Dickson University’s reigning social king can get any girl on campus to fall for him…except the one he’s been silently falling for his whole life.

Campus legend. Life of the party. The guy everyone wants to know.
That’s me—Ace Kelly.

But the one person who truly knows me? Julia Brooks.
My best friend since we were kids.
Julia’s the kind of girl everyone loves. Sweet, painfully beautiful, and steady, she’s always been my constant.

Somewhere between childhood and college at Dickson University, I fell for her. Hard. And I’ve been running an incognito mission ever since.

Operation: Make Julia fall in love with me...without ruining the friendship.

Flawless plan, right? Wrong.
One catastrophically stupid moment—fine, several—might’ve blown everything apart.

We’ve always had our fifteen-minute rule: get mad, shout, hate each other all we want, but when the time is up, we're back to best buddies.

But this time, fifteen minutes might not be enough.

Not when Julia’s trust and our entire lifetime of “us” is suddenly on the line.

I’m in love with my best friend.
And come hell or high water, I’m not giving up my girl without a fight

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

Julia

Sometimes, Ace Kelly is the most annoying best friend in the whole wide world.

I don’t care if he gave me the last purple popsicle yesterday or told everyone at school that I’m the bravest girl in the second grade because I touched a worm on the playground. None of that matters right now because I am so mad at him. He just made his stupid Hulk action figure rip the hair out of my favorite Barbie’s head.

“She didn’t even do anything!” I yell, holding my partially hairless Barbie up in the air. “She was trying to do some yoga, Ace!”

“I’m sorry, Lia!” Ace exclaims. “But the Hulk gets mad sometimes! He can’t help it!”

“Well, the Hulk has anger issues,” I snap, scooting to the edge of the rug in his bedroom and turning my back to him. “And so do you. I’m mad at you, Ace Kelly. Really, really mad.”

Instantly, he goes quiet because he knows the only thing he can do when I’m upset with him is to wait it out.

We have a rule called the fifteen-minute rule. It’s not, like, a law or anything. We made it up. But between us, it’s nonnegotiable.

Ace wanted to choose sixty-nine minutes because he says his dad tells his mom he likes that number all the time, but I told Ace that sixty-nine minutes is a really long time. Like, I’m pretty sure that’s more than a whole hour, which is, like, forever long.

I guess we could’ve chosen the five-minute rule or ten-minute rule, but we both think fifteen is a cool number, so it won two to nothing when we took a vote. Now, we’re not allowed to stay mad at each other for longer than fifteen minutes, and it all started over my sidewalk chalk drawing last summer.

Ace added a gross stream of boogers and snot to the pretty girl I drew on my parents’ driveway, ruining all my hard work. One minute, she had beautiful long purple hair and big pink eyes and a yellow dress, and the next, she had a face covered in green slime because boys are gross.

The only problem with our rule is that Ace isn’t very good at telling time yet, so I’m the one who always has to say when the fifteen minutes are up.

“Is it time yet?” Ace asks, scooting a little closer to me.

See?

I huff out a breath, but I don’t answer him, concentrating on brushing my Barbie’s blond hair in a way that will hide her new bald spot instead.

“Lia?” he tries again, quieter this time. “Has it been fifteen minutes?”

I sigh and glance down at my pink Hello Kitty watch. Only three minutes have passed, but when I look up, Ace is sitting there with big brown sorry eyes. He’s not even playing with his action figures anymore, and his resemblance to Puss in Boots is growing by the second.

I cross my arms tighter and look away, determined to hold out until the time runs out or my Barbie grows her hair back—whichever is shorter—but when I glance back at Ace again, he looks even more pitiful. I crumble.

“Yeah,” I lie. “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

“Really?” he perks up.

I nod. “I forgive you.”

“Thank goodness, Lia. Fifteen minutes is so freaking long.” His face breaks into a giant smile as he scoots right next to me again. “Wanna play action figures?”

“No,” I say and quickly move my Barbie away from his angry Hulk and rise to my feet. “Thanks. You can play action figures. I’m going to play dress-up.”

“You can borrow my Batman costume,” he offers. “It’s in my closet.”

That might not seem like a big deal, but that Batman costume is Ace’s favorite. He never lets his little brother Gunnar wear it. And one time, Ace had Kyle Collins over at his house to play with us and Kyle wanted to wear his Batman costume so bad, but Ace said no.

It’s basically an honor. It’s also one of the reasons why Ace Kelly is my best friend. He’s always doing nice things for me that he would never do for anyone else.

I rummage through his closet, but instead of a superhero costume, I snag one of Ace’s favorite T-shirts.

With the white fabric draped over the back of my head, I swing side to side in front of the mirror on his door and imagine myself in a big, fancy church with a handsome groom standing across from me. I’m more grown, of course, like a full-fledged woman with boobs like my mom’s and lipstick and eye shadow and all the makeup my dad tells me I’m not allowed to wear.

I also have a big smile on my face because it’s the happiest day of my life.

I don’t know why wedding days are so happy for girls, but I’ve seen enough movies to know it’s supposed to be the happiest.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Advertisement
Call Me Anytime (The Protectors #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/call-me-anytime-the-protectors-1-read-online-max-monroe Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:07:08 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/call-me-anytime-the-protectors-1-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Suspense, Virgin Authors: Max Monroe Series: The Protectors Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

A virgin phone sex operator. A detective. And a murder. Love shows up at the oddest times in this funny, emotional, and suspenseful romantic comedy by New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe.

Down and almost out in Nashville, Hannah May takes a job at what she thinks is a telemarketing company. To her shock, it’s a phone sex hotline. Unfortunately, the only role-playing Hannah can do with conviction is as a cash-strapped twenty-five-year-old virgin caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s. If only her callers were into that fantasy. Instead, one of them is looking for a killer.

Detective Dominic Dunn is investigating the murder of another hotline operator when Hannah’s endearing awkwardness, quirky charm, and fierce devotion to her mother crack his professional facade. Despite the circumstances, their connection is instant and electric. For the first time in years, Hannah finds herself living instead of just surviving—even if that means playing amateur sleuth between awkward attempts at phone seduction.

But as their relationship deepens and the investigation intensifies, Dominic’s protective instincts go into overdrive. With every call Hannah takes, she gets closer to both love and danger.

Because somewhere in Nashville, on the other end of her line, a killer is waiting

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

1

Hannah

Monday, May 6

10:00 a.m.

When I was a little girl, I used to dream of the future a lot. Of fancy houses and a handsome husband and jet-setting trips to the south of France. I pictured perfectly manicured nails and lawns, and I imagined big diamond necklaces resting heavily around my clavicle.

Instead, at twenty-five, I sit inside a warehouse on the outskirts of downtown Nashville, Tennessee, in a dingy office on the second floor, wafting cigarette smoke away from my face as discreetly as I possibly can while the woman interviewing me for a telemarketing job blows a continuous stream in my direction.

This, friends, is not what dreams are made of.

“I see it says on your résumé that you just left a job at Alliance?” Margo, my interviewer, asks.

“Yes. That’s correct.” I wiggle in my seat to sit a little taller, desperate to make the best of this situation. After fifteen interviews and no job offers in the last month, I don’t have much choice.

Margo Mavis’s makeup is thick—blue eye shadow, pink lips, pink blush—and her jet-black hair is almost as big as her currently pushed-up breasts, which I can only assume are fake. They, like NASA, defy gravity. Everything else about her is aged—like she’s a character straight out of ’80s TV—and, since her office is windowless and there isn’t a fan or air purifier in sight, her views on the risks of indoor smoking seem just as old fashioned.

“And what’s Alliance, hon? A club?” She drops my single sheet of job history to the desk in front of her and takes another drag from her Virginia Slim.

“A club?” My eyebrows draw together. “No. It’s a medical-based technology company. I was doing data entry, but they’re relocating to Atlanta and aren’t offering any remote positions.”

Margo takes another drag, and a few ashes fall onto the neckline of her red sweater, which covers little more than her nipples—and comes nowhere near her neck. She brushes them off with a nonchalant hand, but not before they burn a tiny hole in the fabric. For continuity within the look she’s going for, the heavily coated foundation around her eyes cracks to reveal a few crow’s-feet as she squints down at my résumé for another quick read. “You have any experience on calls?”

“Um . . . I did some cold-calling with Alliance, but I’ve never been in direct sales before,” I admit, fudging the truth a little in the hopes that it makes me sound less like a fish out of water. Nadine, my old boss at Alliance, did attempt to put me on the sales team at one point, but after a week of calls and no actual sales, back to data entry I had gone. Being pushy with strangers isn’t one of my fortes.

Still, I’m desperate for a job, any job, and if that means doing a crash course on slick tricks via YouTube tutorial, then so be it. I wouldn’t be sitting here, secondhand smoking my way to bronchogenic carcinoma, if I weren’t willing to do anything necessary.

I’ve got a lot counting on me to bring in a steady stream of reasonable income—things I absolutely cannot sacrifice—and every day I’m not doing that, we go farther in the hole.

When Margo doesn’t say anything, I feel the urge to expand, the impulse to convince her to give me a chance nearly overpowering.

“I’m a dedicated employee, though. I give a hundred and ten percent to every assignment,” I add. “It might take me a day or two to get my feet under me, but I’m confident in my ability to adapt.”

Margo meets my eyes, searching my face for a long beat before nodding. “You’ve got a nice sound, I’ll give you that. A nice look, too, not that that matters too much around here.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

Advertisement
Leave Before I Love You – Midnight Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/leave-before-i-love-you-midnight-read-online-max-monroe Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:14:02 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/leave-before-i-love-you-midnight-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, Virgin Authors: Max Monroe Advertisement

Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >107

She’s the rich party girl; he’s her brother’s wild, adrenaline junkie best friend.

Avery's had her eye on her brother’s best friend for years. But when she finally gives in to her attraction to Henry, what was meant to be a fling might just turn into something more.

Now, Avery and Henry's infamous back and forth might just pull them into uncharted territory... falling in love.

*This standalone romance is a "brother's best friend," "best friend's little sister" romance in the Meet Me at Midnight world

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

To people who aren’t afraid to be themselves—flaws, quirks, questionable life choices, and all.

To the people who love them anyway—even when they steal the covers, talk through movies, and have an alarming number of unread emails—you’re the real MVPs.

And to the people who think they’re superior or better-than somehow—nobody cares. Get a life. LOL.

January 1st

Avery

When people say “New year, new me,” my first instinct is to choke dramatically on my own saliva.

I mean, I have questions.

Why don’t you like the you that you are now?

And if you don’t, why wait for some magical ball drop to change it? Time is a construct, Tiffany.

Me? I happen to like myself—some might say too much. But I disagree. The one person you can always count on is yourself, so you might as well be your own favorite bitch. And I, Avery Banks, know exactly what I’m bringing to the table. You’re welcome, world.

What I’m not as in control of is what the world gives me or just how vulnerable I am going to be to yet another New Year’s cliché.

Six months ago, my best friend June, my brother Beau (who also happens to be her husband), and his best friends—Henry Callahan, Ronnie Damon, and Maverick Catalano—planned the ultimate New Year’s trip to a private island in the Exumas. We all chipped in to make it as obnoxiously extravagant as possible, and that resulted in the mansion having two pools, a sauna, three water slides into the Caribbean, and a chef-staffed kitchen to cater to our every whim.

According to eternal optimist June, it was the perfect way to kick off the new year—a fresh start with our favorite people. For me, that meant one favorite person—my bestie June—and a bunch of losers—my older brother and his friends.

Unfortunately, a few things have shifted since we originally scheduled this adventure, and as a result, I cannot believe I’m still going.

“Go and start the new year off with a bang,” Beau said when I tried to back out. Easy for him to say—he gets to stay home. When June bailed due to morning sickness—and general buzzkill status—my brother immediately pulled the plug too, leaving me alone with the three amigos.

To cheer myself up, I plan to drink my body weight in cocktails and bake in the sun every day—and if June hadn’t let my brother knock her up for the second time at such an inopportune interval, I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Ughhhhh. Love that I’m getting a new baby nephew this summer. Hate that June didn’t plan this pregnancy better.

I sigh heavily and pull my G-Wagon into the parking lot outside the small private airport hangar, located on the north end of Miami Beach, looking for other cars I recognize. I’m normally last to arrive to group ventures, but for a change of pace, I’m on time today, and as a result, some of the morning fog is still burning off over the ocean.

Running a hand over my slicked-back ponytail while Billie Eilish sings “Birds of a Feather,” I glance in the rearview mirror to fix my lip gloss briefly before paying attention to the twenty-spot blacktop lot and its white-lined spaces. Several are open, so I pull my Mercedes into one on a small screech of tires and scope the area.

My brother Beau’s best friend Henry Callahan’s Mustang is three spaces down, at the end of the line—a sign that I’m in the right place—so I unbuckle, shut off the engine, and climb out to adjust my outfit. I’m dressed casually—something I’m told by my mother, Diane Banks, is appropriate when your plans include jumping out of a plane—settling for Golden Goose sneakers, Nili Lotan Bolero jeans, and a Ravella cashmere sweater instead of my usual Louboutin heels and a cultivated variation of Dior and Saint Laurent and Versace.

Those outfits are, of course, in my suitcase, but I’ll save them for the safety of the Bahamian island we’re planning to vacation on for the next few days instead of the wind of the stratosphere or whatever the hell you have to deal with at several thousand feet with a parachute strapped to your back.

You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. We’re literally parachuting into the island.

Opening the hatch at the back of my SUV, I pull the small roller bag out from its spot in the trunk and shut it again, beeping the locks as I stroll toward the arched hangar. My suitcase follows dutifully, and I settle a pair of Chanel sunnies onto the bridge of my nose to shield the bright sun.

A heavy sigh fills my lungs with air and then exits in one big huff. Ugh. I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck with Henry, Ronnie, and Maverick all by myself.

And to make matters worse, I have to freaking skydive to get there.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >107

Advertisement
When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/when-i-shouldve-stayed-red-bridge-2-read-online-max-monroe Wed, 09 Jul 2025 19:15:39 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/when-i-shouldve-stayed-red-bridge-2-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Tear Jerker Authors: Max Monroe Series: Red Bridge Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >128

He may have let her slip away, but he never stopped loving her.

Josie: Before the Moment

There are ghosts at every corner. In the stolen kisses while I waitressed at the diner, in the town festivals at the square, in the many jokes about Betty Bagley and her pie at the Fall Farmer’s Market, and in the countless nights watching Clay make drinks with that handsome smile of his while I sat on a stool at his bar.

It should all feel familiar and comforting, and yet, it just makes it hard to breathe.

Tonight will be a defining moment for the rest of my life. I have to end it now…before it ends me.

Clay: After the Moment

When Josie and I said “I do,” I thought it’d be us against the world forever. But I wasn’t expecting the world to be so against us. I know I should’ve stayed that night. And I definitely should have gone back sooner.

Because I don’t know how to be here. I don’t know how to be anywhere. I don’t know how to be without Josie at all.

She’s fun and fiery and strong-willed and stands up for the people she loves—even when it borders on reckless. She’s everything good about humanity—my perfect person.

She might say we’re done, but it’s not over. We’ll never be over

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

“In each loss there is a gain,

As in every gain there is a loss,

And with each ending comes a new beginning.”

-Buddhist Proverb

The Moment I Should’ve Stayed: Part 1

Josie

Tuesday, December 20th

Fresh ink stains my fingers, and a sharp ache stabs my heart as I tuck the large envelope into my purse and swallow the very real and ragged pill of what I’ve done.

Of what I’m about to do.

I rush out of the library, heading straight for the streetside parking, and climb into my car as quickly as possible in the hopes that no one will see me. Gossip runs like an Olympic sprinter in Red Bridge, and right now, I need to fly under the radar more than I need my next lungful of oxygen.

I should be cold, freezing my ass off, in fact, but adrenaline is pumping so hard through my veins that it’s impossible for me to notice anything but my heart galloping like a racehorse out of the gates. With a hard crank, I start my car, and the cold air makes the engine rumble with hesitancy. When it finally revs with life, I pull my seat belt across my chest to secure it in the buckle.

A year ago, I never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d be here. A year ago, I was happy. I was healthy. I was hopeful and invincible.

But more than any of those things, I was incredibly and painfully naïve.

Life isn’t the version we view through rose-colored glasses, and love, sometimes, isn’t even close to enough.

Love, in fact, can be the very thing that hurts us the most. It steals our breath and makes fools of our actions. It sinks its teeth into our innocence and begs for happy endings when there aren’t any to be had.

It robs us over and over, and, at some point, you have to stop feeding yourself to it as a victim.

I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay. I can’t.

My legs are numb, unable to move even with the proverbial train coming right at me. I know Clay would reach out a hand—would sacrifice himself if he had to. But that’s exactly why I have to do this.

With my hand on the stick shift, I glance over at my purse, and the large envelope sticks out poignantly. A stark reminder of why it’s there in the first place, and the D word sits heavy in my mind.

There’s no other option.

I back out of the spot and drive toward Grandma Rose’s house, my vision a blur of routine and simple objects. I see the courthouse and The Diner. I see Earl’s Grocery Store and Fran’s flower shop and Melba’s bakery and the Red Bridge Police Department. And, of course, I see Clay’s bar, The Country Club—the brick-and-mortar that make up nearly every aspect of my life.

But the only thing that registers is heartbreak.

There are ghosts at every corner. In the stolen kisses while I waitressed at The Diner, in the town festivals in the square, in the many jokes about Betty Bagley and her pie at the Fall Farmers Market, and in countless nights spent watching Clay make drinks with that handsome smile of his plastered on his face while I sat on a stool at the bar.

It should all feel familiar and comforting, and yet, it makes it hard for the person I am now to breathe at all.

I wish I’d been stronger. I wish I’d been wiser. I wish I didn’t have to do this.

I wish.

But wishing doesn’t matter anymore, and I can’t turn back time even if I want to.

I have to go. I have to get out and not turn back, and I have to do it as soon as possible.

Sorrow and guilt and grief and shame claw at my throat, and the scratches are deep enough to bleed. My heart tries to compensate, but the loss is too much.

It’s all too much.

I turn into Grandma Rose’s driveway, shut off my car, and go inside to wait.

Tonight will be a defining moment for the rest of my life.

I have to end it now…

…before it ends me.

Before the Moment: Part 1

The Start of It All

1

Clay

Saturday, May 24th

On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it to make yourself a third wheel on a date with strangers?

Generally speaking, I’d rate it at an eleven. It’s tacky and borderline narcissistic—something I’d watch the wealthy pricks from my old life in New York do with sickening confidence and something I’d ride them for every time.

But this isn’t New York, and this date I’m considering cutting in on isn’t just a date.

“Oh, Drew! You’re too much.” Blond curls fly over her shoulder as she turns coy eyes to the schmuck in front of her, and I lean into the bar to watch her in action.

A real-life man-eater, this unbelievably beautiful woman I know through town lore as Josie Ellis, has been inside my bar every Friday night for the last four months, each time with a different man. She teases and taunts and flirts, her siren’s call luring them into the calm waters of overconfidence.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >128

Advertisement
Learning Curve (Dickson University #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/learning-curve-dickson-university-1-read-online-max-monroe-2 Wed, 12 Feb 2025 07:23:23 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/learning-curve-dickson-university-1-read-online-max-monroe-2 Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, College, Contemporary, Sports, Young Adult Authors: Max Monroe Series: Dickson University Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

She’s the virginal cheerleader, and he’s the tortured bad boy. Their worlds are different, but college life at Dickson University brings them together in a passionate, angsty, fiery collision.

Finn Hayes is what girls my age would call “stupid hot.” He’s handsome, has brown eyes that remind me of warm chocolate chip cookies, and a tall, muscular build that makes marble sculptures jealous.

Green flag, right?

Wrong.

He’s also broody, closed off, and so complex that it feels like I need a decoder to crack him.

He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met and fights like he came out of the womb swinging, taking down both my ex-boyfriend and an ex-UFC fighter with ease.

But the underground society at our college known as Double C has nothing on him in the secrets department, and it’s that mysterious edge that keeps me coming back for more.

This is more than the story of how Finn and I fell in love.

This is proof that love has a learning curve. Sometimes you succeed, and sometimes…it destroys you.

Author Note: Learning Curve is a New Adult Romance standalone that is book one in the Dickson University Series. This highly-addictive series will follow the grown-up Billionaire Bad Boy kids and long-lost Winslow siblings as they navigate college life and relationships. Buckle up for all the college drama, romance, spice, angst, and humor. You do not need to have read the Billionaire Bad Boys Series or Winslow Brothers Collection to read Learning Curve. It is a complete standalone.

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

Friday, May 16th

Lexi

Sometimes, when you have a genius IQ of 146 in a sea of average 100s, you start to think you can’t be wrong.

You know better, you know more, you have the data to back yourself up, and the possibility of falling victim to unsound theorization is so low, it’s barely a possibility.

But then there are moments that define us—little slivers of time that change the way we think about ourselves and our existence. It happens in science, too, of course, when some small piece of information shifts the course of your experiment entirely when you least expect it. But when it happens in life, the swift and all-encompassing fist to the gut is even more debilitating.

Because, as it turns out, geniuses can be wrong. I can be wrong. So wrong, in fact, I nearly crash and burn altogether.

“Hey, Lex, I have a question,” my little brother Wes Jr. says, his tone way too innocent for the certified smartass I know him to be. I listen, but I don’t look up yet. I can’t.

I’m in the middle of running a test on an AI-coded app I’ve developed for my second doctoral dissertation. My first PhD, in Mathematics, completed a year and a half ago, is an accomplishment to be proud of, but it also isn’t enough to prepare me for what I want to do in the world of technology.

So here I am at the dinner table with my favorite food getting cold, knee-deep in my second PhD, this time in Computer Science. The spaghetti on my plate sits untouched, but my test run is almost complete—sixty seconds to go, if I can just finish without interruption.

My little brother is undeterred by the fact that I’m clearly busy, plowing ahead to drop the bomb.

“Will you have a funeral one day…or will we just have to visit your rotting corpse in the lab?”

My gaze jerks to his, a mischievous curve to his lips setting the tone, and my breath catches in my chest. His words should be inconsequential—to many people, they would be—but to me, they are earthshaking.

Because of my complex, neurodivergent chemical makeup, being caught off guard is almost akin to an extinction-level event. I’m a planner. A thinker. A certified head case of attention to detail confirmed by a neurologist and seven highly efficient screenings by the state of New York from the age of four onward.

When people speak, I expect to have an idea of what they’re going to say, but nowhere on my radar did I see this incoming missile of attack.

“Seriously, Lex,” my little brother adds. “Hazmat suits are expensive and hard to get. Just want to know if I need to start figuring out the dark web to get my hands on one.”

“Wes,” my mom chastises through a half sigh and a half laugh, while my stepdad fights the urge to burst into his own laughter.

My brother’s bravado is bolstered by their amusement, so he stares, waiting for a response.

I roll my eyes, pause the test run on the app, set my phone on the table beside my plate, and pick up my fork again. “My doctoral dissertation on advancing technology with artificial intelligence-based code is due at the end of this summer. It’s normal to be preoccupied with it,” I argue sensibly, fighting the sting in my chest.

“Yeah. Maybe if you hadn’t already finished your dissertation over two months ago—before your final semester even starts,” Wes objects on a snort. “Now you’re just obsessing.”

“Wes, stop picking on Lexi,” my stepdad says, attempting his best stern dad face. You’d think that being a billionaire and the owner of the New York Mavericks, one of the most successful professional football teams in the country, would make him a master at laying down the law—and maybe it does in business—but when it comes to my brother and me, Wes Lancaster Sr. is no firmer than microwave-softened butter.

When my mom met him, I was just a little girl, and from the start, he treated me like I was his own. My biological father, Nick Raines, wasn’t around back then, so for a long time, Wes wasn’t just like a dad to me—he was my dad.

Even now, at the age of twenty-five—with a biological father who is in the picture—I still address him as Dad.

“Yeah, Wes,” my mom chimes in. “I’m sure there are quite a few things Lexi could find to tease you about.”

“No way. I’m pure perfection,” my little brother comments haughtily, like only a teenage boy can. “And I’m not picking on her, just inserting a few strands of reality into her perfect DNA.” He looks over at me. “I know you like the lab, Lex, but there’s more out there. I promise.”

My smile is smug. “The thirteen-year-old expert on life. Trust me, Wes, I have more going on than coding and apps.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

Advertisement
What I Should’ve Said (Red Bridge #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/what-i-shouldve-said-red-bridge-1-read-online-max-monroe Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:14:40 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/what-i-shouldve-said-red-bridge-1-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Authors: Max Monroe Series: Red Bridge Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >111

When grumpy, muscled-up artist Bennett Bishop bothers to speak, it’s usually to say something you’re not ready to hear.

When he first speaks to Norah Ellis, a rambling runaway bride who hitchhikes a ride from him, it’s to tell her to get out of his truck and walk because she’s a pain in the a-s-s.

By appearance, Norah Ellis is a fancy fashionista who’s spent the last several years living the good life in the city—expensive apartments, highbrow events, and a fiancé with wealth and good looks. The only problem is that she didn’t choose any of it for herself.

On the day of her July wedding, thanks to a letter from a stranger, Norah’s world turns upside down. She runs for the hills of Vermont to start a new life, but what’s waiting for her, between her estranged sister, the townspeople, and bad-boy Bennett Bishop himself, is way more than she bargained for.

Enemies turn to lovers, strangers become friends, dark secrets bust open like cans of worms, and most of all…Summer will never be the same.

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

Prologue

Norah

Sunday, July 25th

The bride couldn’t remember what her soon-to-be husband looked like or why she was marrying him in the first place.

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, willing the features of Thomas’s smile to come to me, but all I see are black words on a gray page—a New York Times article I once read that compared two types of people: the ones who remember faces and the ones who remember names.

For the life of me, I can’t recall what the study proved or what it meant to be one or the other, but I do know the premise of the article speaks to me.

I’ve always been a face person.

Eye color, nose shape, the depth of a smile—even a tiny, obscure dimple in someone’s chin. I see it all so well, the details imprinting on the soft surface of my brain.

But a name? I can never remember a name. For six months, I thought my round-jawed neighbor’s name was Sally, but her name is really Margaret. Her dog, on the other hand, is Sally, and is a Jack Russell Terrier with wiry white hair and a snobby-looking, pointy nose. Don’t ask me how I found this out—Margaret and Sally running away from me every time I see them is trauma enough.

But today, on my wedding day of all days, there’s a glitch in my matrix, and I can’t remember what the man I’m supposed to marry looks like.

I try to picture him in my mind, but all I see is a foggy, blurred-out image of a man with great hair.

Thomas, my fiancé, does, in fact, have great hair. But he also has a face. One I’ve seen many, many times, and yet cannot for the life of me remember.

My reflection in the bathroom mirror reveals red splotches covering my chest, and my heart feels like it’s doing jumping jacks inside my throat. I wet a paper towel with cold water in an attempt to ease the angry welts down, but it does nothing, because on the inside, I feel like a terrible storm is coming. Flight-or-fight engaged, everything inside me wants to seek refuge somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I hope the truth will set you free.

My eyes dart to the bathroom counter, landing on the manila envelope bullseye. The script on top is feminine and delicate and the exact opposite of the cataclysmic bomb of truth that lies inside.

When I walked through the giant doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral today, journalists and photographers from Page Six were already here, taking pictures of my entrance and wishing me an early congratulations.

They don’t expect cold feet when you’re marrying someone as important as Thomas, and for as much as I can’t seem to remember what I ever liked about him right now, neither was I.

This cathedral, the very spot I’m supposed to get married, is a New York icon. Mariah Carey got married here in the nineties, and it sits smack-dab in the middle of Rockefeller Center and Saks on Fifth Avenue. It screams big money and big dreams and a one-in-a-million chance at happiness for a girl from a little bitty town in Vermont.

But the contents of that envelope prove it’s all just smoke and mirrors to hide the dirty, appalling truth.

Because not only do I not know what my fiancé’s face looks like today, I don’t know who my fiancé is at all.

“Apparently, your whole damn life is a lie,” I mutter to myself and brace my hands on the edges of the porcelain sink. In the mirror, my stupid bridal face stares back at me. All thanks to the beauty team my mother hired, my naturally curly, light-brown hair is in a perfect chignon, and my makeup is an elegant combination of light pinks and neutral tones that highlight my features.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >111

Advertisement
Meet Me at Midnight Read Online Max Monroe http://www.wownovels.com/meet-me-at-midnight-read-online-max-monroe Thu, 21 Nov 2024 13:37:14 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/meet-me-at-midnight-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, New Adult Authors: Max Monroe Advertisement

Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >114

How good are you at keeping a secret?

Because I, Juniper Perry, have been keeping a big one.

For over a decade, I’ve been crushing on the guy with the easy smile, warm brown eyes, and charismatic charm. He’s all the perfect things that, when you add them up, spell out Man of my dreams.

I know that doesn’t sound bad at all, but there’s more to this story...

We work together. I’m a lowly intern, and he’s a high-powered executive.

He’s my newest neighbor. No joke—he’s temporarily living next door to me.

And to top it all off, he’s my best friend’s older brother.

I’ve spent what feels like an eternity keeping my crush on him a secret, but recently, I’ve found a way to have him and my anonymity too. A way to chat and flirt and get close to him.

My best friend doesn’t know about these Midnight chats.

And he doesn’t know I’m the girl he’s talking to night after night.

Beau Banks might be completely off-limits, but what happens at Midnight stays between us.

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

I’ve dreamed about the day Beau Banks would notice my pussy.

I’ve had years—a decade, even—of fantasizing about my best friend’s older brother perceiving me as more than an extra appendage of his younger sister, Avery. Years of wondering what it’d be like to have him put me and sex in the same stratosphere, and instead, I have no choice but to settle for this.

His dad—my boss, Neil Banks—asking about the cat filter that’s covering his face during a very important virtual meeting. But instead of just saying cat, he keeps saying pussycat over and over and over, while Beau and a dozen other important people from my new place of employment, Banks & McKenzie Marketing, look on.

And no, as much as I wish I were, I’m not dreaming and I’m not high.

This is happening, live and in color—beet fucking red, specifically.

“I’m a pussycat, Juniper. Do you see I’m a pussycat?” Neil asks, confused why his face isn’t his face.

“I see, Mr. Banks,” I answer, fighting like hell to keep myself from falling into the black hole his son sucks me into whenever he’s around. Right now isn’t the time to focus on Beau’s warm brown eyes or sexy dark hair or the way his expensive gray suit hugs his most perfect shoulders and biceps. It isn’t the time to wonder if his hands would feel just as good on my skin as they look sticking out of the cuffs of the sleeves of his expensive white shirt.

I have a cat-filter emergency to worry about, and as the seconds tick by without my doing something about it, it gets more and more out of control.

Every time Mr. Banks speaks, a cat’s mouth moves on the screen while the Hughes International execs watch on via Zoom. A Zoom I am responsible for setting up.

Just moments ago, my focus went to shit when Beau strode into the conference room and found an empty seat at the massive table, and my gaze is still trying to keep track of his every move. But Neil is getting more and more unhinged as he tries to figure out how to remove the whiskers and fur and pointy cat ears from his face.

“Why do I look like a pussycat, Juniper?” Mr. Banks asks from his fancy leather chair at the head of the table where I stand directly beside him.

Inadvertently putting a funny filter on your boss for an important meeting is bad enough, but his calling the kitten a “pussycat” is making it irrefutably worse. I didn’t know anyone still used the word without being facetious, but I guess that’s what you get for assuming.

Ass, meet me, Juniper Perry, brand-new marketing intern extraordinaire and the next resident of whatever the nearest spot to the earth’s crust is.

“I’m trying to fix it,” I assure Mr. Banks, silently cursing myself when my eyes wander from the screen of the laptop in front of us to Beau for a flash of a second. Clearly, when it comes to him, I have no control. It’s a wonder I’m not actively fantasizing about how his mouth would feel on me right now.

Annnd now I am…

Great, Juniper, just great.

“Why am I a pussycat?” Mr. Banks asks yet again, seeing as I’ve yet to master his daughter—and my best friend—Avery’s computer settings enough to get it turned off.

I swear, I’m going to absolutely throttle her for sticking me with this Zoom responsibility with no warning this morning. She all but shoved her laptop into my hands as we were heading out the door and told me she’d meet me at work.

She’s still not here, by the way.

“Your pussycat is cute, Juniper, but it’s not ideal for this meeting,” Mr. Banks comments, and I can actually feel my face heating up beneath my skin.

“What? No. It’s just a funny filter, Mr. Banks. Avery must have been messing around with it,” I explain in a panic as I hit the escape button. Surely ending this Zoom and having to start over is no longer the worst-case scenario when my boss keeps talking about my pussycat in front of a room full of people.

But nothing happens. The screen is frozen up.

“A filter?” he questions. “Of your pussycat?”

Someone save me.

“It’s not my cat,” I say through a tight throat, my face hotter than the surface of the sun. I don’t dare look up at anyone in the room as my fingers gently tap the touch pad of the laptop in an endeavor to move the still-frozen cursor. “It’s just a funny filter of a random cat.”

Mr. Banks edges in, pounding his meaty Boomer clubs on the keyboard like that’s somehow going to fix it. In reality, even with his grayish-white hair, he’s more of a Gen X-er than a Boomer, but his lack of technological savvy is wildly Boomer behavior.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >114