Book #2 in a sexy series about three hotel magnate brothers
and the women who take them to their knees.
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I’m ridiculously excited about one Mr. Tag Crane, the youngest of the Crane brothers, and by far, the FUNNEST. Tag came to life when I dreamed up a character who looked like Brock O’Hurn and behaved like a modern-day beach bum, yet had an impressive work ethic and was every bit the gentleman. A cocky yet humble, fun yet responsible billionaire playboy.
A bit! But wow, what a fun one.
This book was a blast to write and I’ve seen several early reviewers refer to it as “sexy” and “hilarious” and “laugh out loud funny!”
Tag is all of those things and more–and the other fantastic part about this book was the heroine. Rachel. Independent yet shy, funny and sexy Rachel Foster has experienced a bit of a dip with her confidence level. Who better to infuse her with confidence than charming Tag Crane?
Watching a playboy go down in flames when he falls for a woman he didn’t expect to fall for is something not even the billionaires of this series could put a price on.
As for you lucky readers discovering him for the first time, have a BLAST reading. I recommend cracking open a beer, kicking your feet up, and letting this billionaire hotel magnate whisk you off to Oahu.
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t’s Tag Crane’s job to be the life of the party. Traveling from one exotic locale to another is just part of running the luxurious Crane Hotel empire. But even paradise isn’t perfect. Devising a new business strategy is keeping Tag up at night-and so is the Great Dane barking at all hours in the apartment below his. To muzzle the problem, Tag charges downstairs . . . right into the most beautiful, blond distraction he’s ever seen.
og-sitting by day, bartending by night. It’s not exactly the life Rachel Foster dreamed of. But when Tag Crane rushes in, all mountain-man shoulders and obscenely sexy smile, needing her help for the Crane Hotels, it’s a fantasy come true. What’s the harm in a fun no-strings fling? Only a fool would give her heart to a billionaire player like Tag-until suddenly the one man who can’t be caught is the one flirting with forever . . .
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The one where Rachel mistakes billionaire Tag Crane for a dog-walker. (As you do.)
Holy crap there’s a mountain man at my door.
She was faced with wide, round shoulders. A waterfall of caramel-brown, slightly wavy hair cascaded down his arms. He wore a closely trimmed beard, his mouth flat beneath it. One eyebrow was arched over the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Hello,” she managed, before jerking her gaze from his assaulting blues to take in the fitted cream-colored sweater, a pair of gray cargo pants, and laced leather boots.
He was like a sexy city lumberjack.
Oh. That voice. Deep, rich, and low enough that it registered in her belly.
When his eyes dashed away from her face and he smiled, her brain turned to mush. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Not a single thing.
“There he is. Hey, buddy.” The giant knelt as Adonis meandered through the living room, pausing to do a downward-dog stretch in front of the man’s feet. The dog received a scrub on the head, and she was rewarded with more of her guest’s low voice. “You’re better today, yeah? Sleep okay?”
Meanwhile, Rachel gawked at the two of them. Her appearance was…
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