The Royals
5 primary works
Each book is a standalone that can be read in any order.
Book 1. King of Wall Street (Max and Harper)
Book 2. Duke of Manhattan (Ryder & Scarlett)
Book 3. The British Knight (Alexander & Violet)
Book 4. The Earl of London (Logan & Darcy)
Book 5. Park Avenue Prince (Sam & Grace)
THE KING OF WALL STREET IS BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES BY AN AMBITIOUS BOMBSHELL.
At work, I’m King of Wall Street. The heaviest hitters in Manhattan come to me to make money. They do whatever I say because I’m always right. I’m shrewd. Exacting. Some say ruthless.
At home, I’m a single dad trying to keep his fourteen year old daughter a kid for as long as possible. If my daughter does what I say, somewhere there’s a snowball surviving in hell. And nothing I say is ever right.
When Harper Jayne starts as a junior researcher at my firm, the barriers between my worlds begin to dissolve. She’s the most infuriating woman I’ve ever worked with.
I don’t like the way she bends over the photocopier—it makes my mouth water.
I hate the way she’s so eager to do a good job—it makes my body twitch.
And I can’t stand the way she wears her hair up exposing her long neck. It makes me want to strip her naked, bend her over my desk and trail my tongue all over her body.
If my two worlds are going to collide, Harper Jayne will have to learn that I don't just rule the boardroom. I’m in charge of the bedroom, too.
The King of Wall Street is a stand alone, contemporary romance.
My family are fighting over who’s the next Duke of Fairfax. The rules say it’s me—if I’m married. It’s not a trade-off worth making. I could never limit myself to just one woman.
Or so I thought until my world is turned upside down. Now, the only way I can save the empire I built is to inherit the title I’ve never wanted—so I need a wife.
To take my mind off business I need a night that’s all pleasure. I need to bury myself in a stranger.
The skim of Scarlett King’s hair over my body as she bends over . . .
The scrape of her nails across my chest as she screams my name . . .
The bite of her teeth on my shoulder just as we both reach the edge . . .
It all helps me forget.
I just didn’t bargain on finding my one-night stand across the boardroom table the next day. Scarlett’s making a business proposal. I’ve got more interest in a (fake) marriage proposal.
A sexy, standalone romance.
When I’m offered the chance to leave New York to live in London for three months, I can’t pack my suitcase fast enough.
As soon as I touch down I’m obsessing over red telephone boxes, palaces and all the black cabs. But my favorite place is the tube. It’s wall-to-wall hot British men in suits.
When I’m offered a temporary job working for a barrister, I say, sign me up. On my first commute into work, it’s a total accident when I lose my balance and fall against the most handsome Brit alive. He’s as charming as James Bond and as suave as Mr. Darcy. I want to lick tea from his hard abs and listen to his accent all night long.
Turns out Mr. Handsome is my new boss. And his attitude isn’t as hot as his gorgeous face, broad shoulders and tight ass. He’s brooding, short-tempered and the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.
As we’re fighting, out of nowhere he kisses me. And I’m pretty sure I see fireworks over Big Ben and hear God Save the Queen. I wasn’t looking for the fairytale but I might have found my knight in shining armor.
The problem is he lives an ocean away.
A stand-alone, enemies to lovers, grumpy sunshine romance.
Love left me of its to-do list.
I date. I’m all for giving guys a chance. I’ve just never met the one.
Until on a spring morning in the English countryside, a tall, dark stranger emerges from the mist. Logan Steele is all tousled hair, hard chest and lips so perfect I want to reach out and touch them just to check they’re real. I’m sure that’s a thunderclap of chemistry I feel between us.
Did I mention he’s an Earl with a self-made fortune?
A billionaire who works tirelessly for charity?
And he’s so hot, watching him is like staring at the sun.
But like I said, love isn’t rooting for me.
When I find out Logan Steele is out to destroy everything I’ve dedicated my life to protect, the chemistry disappears and the hope that had blossomed my chest turns to rage.
It no longer matters that he quickens my pulse just saying my name, weakens my knees with a single touch and that he might just be the greatest kisser that ever lived.
I might believe in love but Logan Steele is definitely not the one.
THE PRINCE OF PARK AVENUE FINALLY MEETS HIS MATCH IN A FEISTY MANHATTAN PRINCESS.
I’ve made every one of my billions of dollars myself—I’m calculating, astute and the best at what I do. It takes drive and dedication to build what I have. And it leaves no time for love or girlfriends or relationships.
But don’t get me wrong, I’m not a monk.
I understand the attention and focus it takes to seduce a beautiful woman. They’re the same skills I use to close business deals.
But one night is where it begins and ends. I’m not the guy who sends flowers. I’m not the guy who calls the next day.
Or so I thought before an impatient, smart-talking, beyond beautiful heiress bursts into my world.
When Grace Astor rolls her eyes at me—I want to hold her against me and show her what she’s been missing.
When she makes a joke at my expense—I want to silence her sassy mouth with my tongue.
And when she leaves straight after we f*ck with barely a goodbye—it makes me want to pin her down and remind her of the three orgasms she just had.
She might be a princess but I’m going to show her who rules in this Park Avenue bedroom.