A man like me isn’t cut out to be a dad.
And if this kid had another option I wouldn’t try to be one now.
But for once I’m going to step up.
I’ll right the worst of old wrongs.
I’ll pretend this last name of mine is something decent instead of a legacy of hard-core criminals.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of my sins.
I do know it wouldn't be wise to get close enough to find out.
Into this chaos walks Isabella Gentry.
She was warned to keep her distance from me.
I was the one who warned her.
She’s beautiful. She’s headstrong. She’s spoiled as hell.
And she’s my freaking roommate.
Half of me wants to turn her world upside down in the cruelest way imaginable.
The other half wants to worship the ground she walks on.
This can go one of two ways.
Either I’ll decide to be the worst version of myself.
Or I’ll surrender the past in order to build a future.
And maybe along the way I’ll prove something.
That the guy everyone loves to hate might be redeemable yet...
Strays is a standalone novel, that I am not even sure you can call a second chance, it more like restarting life.
Rafe’s life hasn’t been worth much and when he is put into the position of sole parent to a 5 year old boy, Oliver. Connecting with his only remaining family member is the best way to move forward in changing his ways. Isabella is branching out away from her very supportive family and when fate steps in and puts Rafe in her path there is no stopping it. He may have a rough exterior but underneath it all is the person Rafe was always meant to be.
I personally really enjoyed this story; Rafe and Izzy had amazing chemistry and Oliver’s character had my heart breaking for his loss. Brent is a new to me author and I look forward to reading more in the future.
Star Ratings; Plot: 4/5 Characters: 4/5 Heat: 4/5 Writing Style: 4/5 Overall: 4/5
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“What are you gonna do about it, Izzy? Throw your wine at me?”
She does. She throws her wine in my face. Or at least she tries to. The flick of her wrist comes up short when I rear back and the wine splashes on the floor, leaving her standing there with a stupid empty glass and a puzzled expression. That should have worked, her pretty eyes say. Why is this jackass not covered in my wine backwash?
There’s no effort required to pluck the glass out of her hand. I toss it in the sink, where it promptly shatters.
“Hey,” she complains. “That was Waterford crystal, you dick.”
I chuckle and close in, aware that I’m hard and getting harder. “That’s your whole problem, Isabella.”
Her eyes flash. Her lips pout. In another second she’ll be stamping her bare foot. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“This.” I run a hand low, over the shape of my cock. She can see the rigid outline through my shorts. I know she can. She sucks in a corner of her lower lip and jerks her head to force her eyes away.
I chuckle. “You wish you thought so.”
Cora Brent was born in a cold climate and escaped as soon as it was legally possible. Now, she lives in the desert with her husband, two kids and a prickly pear cactus she has affectionately named ‘Spot’. Cora’s closet is filled with boxes of unfinished stories that date back her 1980’s childhood and all her life she has dreamed of being an author. Amazingly, she is now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of contemporary romance and begs not to be awakened from this dream.
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