Samantha Towle – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sat, 03 Apr 2021 20:08:23 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Samantha Towle – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 The Two Week Stand (Sizzling Beach #1) Read Online Samantha Towle http://www.books2020.com/the-two-week-stand-sizzling-beach-1-read-online-samantha-towle Sat, 03 Apr 2021 19:56:42 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-two-week-stand-sizzling-beach-1-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Erotic, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sizzling Beach Series by Samantha Towle
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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(Sizzling Beach #1) The Two Week Stand

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
Book Information:

From NYT bestselling author Samantha Towle comes a sizzling beach romance, that will leave you hot in all the right places…
Dillon Dawson loves to write romance despite her latest relationship ending with her traveling to the Maldives alone on what was supposed to be her honeymoon. Now, the only thing she wants is two weeks of uninterrupted peace and quiet with absolutely no men in sight.
West Oakley doesn’t even believe that romance exists, and he has no desire to convince himself otherwise. The only reason he’s heading to the Maldives is to escape a scandal and spend time on an island where no one knows who he is.
But plans change, and when West takes one look at Dillon, another idea forms in his mind—a no-strings two-week stand. Even though Dillon knows their sexual chemistry is explosive, her romantic heart is torn.
Can she really spend fourteen nights in the arms of a god like West, making all of her fantasies come true, only to walk away at the end of it?
Or can Dillon turn this two-week stand into more than an unexpected holiday fling, convincing West that romance does exist after all?
Books in Series:

Sizzling Beach Series by Samantha Towle
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle


one

Dillon

I’m the first to step off the seaplane and onto the jetty, saying hello to the staff member waiting to greet us all.

Moving aside so the other passengers can get off, I stretch my back out.

Eleven hours on a flight from Manchester to the Maldives and then a forty-five-minute flight on a cramped seaplane to the island, and I’m finally here.

Alone.

Nope. I’m not going to get upset.

I’m not gonna think about him.

Or her.

I’ve spent enough time crying over what they did to me. No more.

I’m literally in paradise, surrounded by beauty. I cannot be sad here.

Even though I tell myself this, I still feel my throat start to burn, the hurt wanting to climb its way into my eyes.

I get my sunglasses from my bag and slip them on.

Swallowing back my emotions, I take a deep breath.

The air is heavy. The heat here is like nothing I’ve ever known.

I’ve been abroad before but only to Spain with my girlfriends. I thought it was warm when I was there. It’s nothing compared to the heat here.

When I landed at Malé airport, I began to seriously regret the leggings and long-sleeved shirt I wore to travel here. It had been freezing when I left home to head to the airport. Thought I was being smart, wearing something comfy to travel in.

But being here now, on the island, I can feel the sweat starting to gather around the nape of my neck and my armpits.

I need to shower and change ASAP. Then, eat something and fall into bed.

I’m knackered after all the traveling.

Retrieving a scrunchie from my bag, I gather my long hair up off my neck and tie it up in a haphazard bun. I know for a fact that it looks like shit. I’m not one of those girls who can put her hair in a messy bun and it come off looking amazing. I usually end up looking like I lost a fight with a bush.

But I’m not here to impress anyone, and I’m fucking melting, so shit hair bun it is.

I press my hand to the back of my neck to remove the sweat there, and then I surreptitiously wipe my hand on my leggings.

I look to my left, and the woman standing there, who was on the seaplane ride here, is watching me, a judgy look on her face, like I’m the grossest thing she’s ever seen.

Of course she’s totally put together.

We can’t all look amazing after a long-ass flight. Some of us are smelly and gross.

Deal with it, lady.

I give her a pointed look—through my dark glasses, of course—and she looks away.

The guy she’s traveling with comes over and kisses her. She lifts her hand to his cheek.

My eyes catch on the massive rock and gold band on her finger.

An ache deep inside of my chest tries to claw its way out.

What the hell was I thinking, coming here?

It’s going to be full of couples and happy newlyweds, who are going to make me want to poke my eyes out.

Come on your honeymoon alone, Dillon. It’ll be fine, Dillon.

Note to Dillon: you’re a fucking idiot.

The greeter guy asks us all to follow him down the jetty to the island.

I let everyone else go first.

All fucking couples.

I am the only solo person here.

What did I expect, coming here?

The Maldives is couples central. Not sad, pathetic, single women central.

I should have stayed home.

And lost thousands of pounds on this trip.

I couldn’t get a refund.

Apparently, my fiancé fucking … I can’t even say it without wanting to throw up.

Basically, cheating fiancé wasn’t listed on my travel insurance as a reason for cancellation.

And the travel company wouldn’t let me change to a different destination. It was literally two weeks before I was due to get married when I found out the truth. And a week before I could even bring myself to contact the travel company.

So, it was either stay home and drink myself into a coma. Or come to paradise and drink myself into a coma.

I chose the latter.

I just didn’t take into consideration the happy couples I’d be surrounded by.

Looking at these blissful bastards in front of me makes me wish I were back in my home with a few bottles of Prosecco in front of me and a serial killer documentary on TV for company.

I hear my phone ding in my bag, and I pull it out.

Text from my aunt Jenny. I texted her when I landed in Malé airport to let her know I’d arrived.

How is it? Send pics ASAP! Love you. xxx

I smile at her message even though I blame her for me coming here too. She was the one who first suggested it. I asked her to come with me, take Tim’s place, but she couldn’t get the time off work with such short notice. Neither could any of my girlfriends.


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River Wild Read Online Samantha Towle http://www.books2020.com/river-wild-read-online-samantha-towle Fri, 27 Oct 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/river-wild-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Romance, Suspense, Tear Jerker Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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River Wild

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
Book Information:

A new town. A new identity. Pregnant and alone. And far away from a past that can never find me.
River Wild. Moody. Sullen. Asshole. And my new neighbor.
I have no interest in befriending River. And he definitely doesn’t want to be befriended by me. Then, he helps me rescue an abandoned dog. And, that day, I see something in his eyes that reflects back in my own. Sadness. Pain. Loneliness.
I know all of those things well. An unwanted and unexpected friendship that somehow works. Then, without warning, it turns into something more.
River and I both have our secrets, and that’s okay. Because I understand him. And he understands me. For the first time in my life, I have something I never thought I would have—happiness.
But happiness isn’t forever. Not for people like me.
Especially not when my past is waiting just around the corner, ready to come and take it all away.
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle Books


Monsters lurk in plain sight.

They wear ordinary clothes.

Have ordinary faces.

Work ordinary jobs.

Live ordinary lives.

But the monster is always there.

Lying in wait, beneath its ordinary skin.

Waiting for its moment.

And when its moment comes.

And it breaks free.

You won’t see it coming.

But I will.

And I’ll be ready.

—River Wild

River

Eight Years Old

It’s Sunday.

I hate Sundays.

Sundays are when Mama goes to her weekly book club meeting. Sundays between five and seven p.m. are when Mama isn’t home.

Sunday between five and seven p.m. are when he hurts me.

But I can’t tell my mama that he hurts me.

He told me that he’d hurt her, too, if I told. He said no one would believe me anyway. Because he’s important.

My stepdaddy is the person you tell when someone hurts you.

He is a policeman.

The police are supposed to be good.

But he isn’t good.

He’s bad.

I’m in the backyard, playing with the new basketball Mama bought me for my eighth birthday last week.

She left five minutes ago.

I know what’s going to happen.

He’s going to make me go inside soon.

He’s going to make me do things that I don’t want to do.

He’s going to do things to me.

I throw the ball at the hoop that hangs on the side of the garage wall.

It goes in. Hits the concrete floor with a thump.

I walk over and pick it up.

I throw it through again.

Thump.

“River, come inside,” he calls from the kitchen.

I hate his voice.

I hate him.

I shut my eyes.

No.

The ball rolls back to me, bumping against my foot.

“Now,” he barks.

I take a breath. Open my eyes.

I pick my ball up, hugging it to my chest. I slowly walk inside, into the kitchen.

He’s standing against the kitchen counter.

“Shut the door,” he tells me.

I obey, turning and closing the back door.

“Come here.”

I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.

“Don’t make me tell you twice. You know what will happen if you do.”

I turn and walk over to him. My stomach starts to hurt.

I hold the ball tighter to my chest.

I stop a few feet away from him.

I don’t look at him. But I know he’s looking at me.

He reaches out and takes the ball from me, placing it on the counter behind him. There are the usual empty bottles of beer on there.

I see his gun belt lying on the counter, too.

His gun is still in it.

He never leaves it out like that. It’s always in his safe.

Why is it there?

My heart starts to beat faster.

“We’re going to play a new game today, River.”

My new daddy came and sat beside me on the floor in my room. “Do you want to play a game, River?”

“A game?” I asked excitedly. “I love games! What kind of game?”

He leaned closer to me. He smelled like stinky beer and sweat. I didn’t like the way he smelled.

“Well, this is a secret game,” he whispered. “Only good boys can play it.”

“I am a good boy! Miss Clarke says I’m the best behaved boy in her class.”

Miss Clarke was my teacher in first grade. I liked her. She smelled nice. She was pretty, too, but not as pretty as my mama. No one was as pretty as my mama.

“Okay, but if we play this game, you have to promise not to tell your mama that we played.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a secret game. One that mommies aren’t allowed to know about.”

“Okay.”

“Do you pinkie promise?”

“I pinkie promise. So, what’s the game called?”

He starts to unbuckle his pants.

I turn my face away. I stare at the picture tacked to the refrigerator. I drew it at school on Friday for Mama. It’s a picture of a puppy.

I really want a puppy.

I hear the clang of his buckle. The zip lowering.

My body starts to tremble.

“River.”

Please don’t make me do this.

His hand takes hold of my arm and pulls me to him.

His usual stench of beer and sweat hits me. I feel sick.

“Look at me, boy.”

I force my face his way. I stare at the wall behind him. I can’t look at him.

“We’re going to do something different today. You know how, when you’re a good boy for me, Daddy gives you that special treat.”

I shut my eyes.

“Well, you’re going to do that for me.”

“P-please … I-I d-don’t want to,” I whisper.

He slaps me across the face.

I start to cry.

He slaps me again, harder this time. He grabs hold of my face, fingers pinching my cheeks.

“Open your eyes, boy.”

I do as I was told. Tears run down my face.

“Stop fucking crying. Only babies cry. Are you a baby, River?”

“N-no.”

“Then, stop acting like one.” His face is bright red. His eyes are bulging. His fingers squeeze my face, hurting me more. “You will do as I tell you, boy. Because, if you don’t, you know what will happen.”

“I-I d-don’t want to play this g-game anymore,” I whispered. “I-I d-don’t think I like it.”

“Do you know what happens to little boys who break their promises, River?”


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Rush Read Online Samantha Towle (Gods #2) http://www.books2020.com/rush-2-read-online-samantha-towle Sat, 01 Jul 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/rush-2-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Gods Series by Samantha Towle
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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Rush (Gods #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B07CKZ6HLN
Book Information:

From Samantha Towle, New York Times bestselling author of Breaking Hollywood and Ruin, comes a new powerful, passionate and dramatic contemporary romance.
“With the first pick in the 2015 NFL Draft, the New York Giants select…”
It’s been three years since quarterback Ares Kincaid’s NFL dream came true, and he’s living the high life. The days of cleaning up after his drunk of a father are long gone, and he has no intention of going back.
A car crash and DUI charge meant a lengthy stint in rehab for Arianna Petrelli, and her dream of being a professional artist slips further away when she’s sacked from her position at a gallery. Her need for a job stronger even than her dislike of football, Ari goes to work for her father, the head coach of the New York Giants.
Ares hates alcoholics, which is fine with Ari because she thinks he’s a brainless jock. Yet when Ares rescues Ari from a situation with her ex-boyfriend, an unlikely friendship begins – one that quickly becomes more.
But messing around with the coach’s daughter can only lead to one thing…trouble.
'A moving and fan-yourself-worthy love story' USA Today's Happy Ever After on Ruin
Books in Series:

Gods Series by Samantha Towle
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle Books


“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

I glance up to the sky. Big, fat raindrops splash on my face. Dark clouds have rolled in from nowhere and opened up to let out water like it’s the sequel to the Great Flood.

“Jesus effin’ Christ,” I grumble to myself as I quickly dig through my bag, looking for my umbrella…which isn’t there. “Crap. Shit. Crap.”

This is just perfect. Frigging perfect.

I don’t even have a jacket on. I’m wearing my new white silk shirt, black skinny jeans, and black heels.

The forecast was for warm weather, and when I got on the bus at Port Authority half an hour ago to travel to East Rutherford, the sun was shining.

Global warming for you. Sigh.

My first day at my new job—the job that my dad got for me—and I’m about to turn up, looking like a drowned rat.

Perfect.

I quickly start walking away from the bus stop, heading toward my new place of work. The New York Giants headquarters and training facility. My dad is Eddie Petrelli, the head coach of the Giants, and he’s hired me to be an assistant to the team. Basically, I’m a lackey. And my dad has totally made up the job, no matter how he denies it, and he did that because I’d lost mine at the gallery, due to me being a total screwup.

I was surprised that he wanted me working here. I’ve embarrassed him enough as of late. But I guess he wants me where he can keep an eye on me.

I’m an alcoholic. A sober alcoholic, thanks to time spent in a detox and rehab facility and the ongoing support of Alcoholics Anonymous and my sponsor, Luke.

The push to rehab came because, a little over six months ago, I was arrested for driving under the influence after I caught my ex-boyfriend, Kyle, in a compromising position at a house party. Basically, his pants were around his ankles and someone I’d thought was a friend was on her knees in front of him. I’m guessing you get the picture.

I left the party, climbed into my ex’s car, and took off. I was drunk off my ass and upset, and I crashed his car into one of the neighbor’s garden walls.

I lost my license—hence why I ride the bus now—and was charged with criminal damage and received a hefty fine.

The gallery sacked me. And trying to get another job since I got out of rehab with a criminal record was nearly impossible.

Not that I didn’t try because I really did. But no one wants to hire an ex-drunk.

So, when I started running out of money to pay my bills, I took the job my dad had offered. I also need to pay my dad. He hasn’t asked for the money he spent on putting me through rehab or paying my fine, and he rebuffs me when I tell him I’m going to pay him back. But I need to start taking responsibility for my actions.

Getting sober was the first step. Paying my dad back is the next, and now that I have this job, thanks to him, I can start doing so.

It takes me fifteen long, rain-soaked minutes to walk to the Giants headquarters.

When I finally get there, I’m drenched through to my underwear, and my hair is plastered to my head. The hour I spent this morning putting on makeup and styling my hair was a total waste of time.

I fish the ID badge that my dad gave me out of my bag as I approach the security booth.

The glass on the booth slides back, revealing a middle-aged guy with a kind face.

“You got caught in the downpour, huh?” He gives me a grin.

“Can you tell?”

He chuckles. “I’d offer you an umbrella, but I don’t think that’s going to help you now.”

“No.” I laugh. “But I might need to borrow it later, if it starts back up.”

“You got yourself a deal. So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m, uh, starting work here today. My name is Arianna Petrelli.” I hand over my ID badge.

“Coach Petrelli’s daughter.” His voice booms with a smile. “Of course. He told me you’d be coming in today.”

At his pleasant greeting, a knot I didn’t realize I had in my stomach eases a little.

I guess it has been on my mind a bit—how people here would treat me. Without a doubt, they all know about my DUI and rehab stint.

My dad wouldn’t have talked about it. Man of few words, my father.

But the daughter of the coach of the Giants charged with a DUI was a journalist’s dream.

Since it happened—aside from the people in rehab, who were pretty much all like me—normal folk are generally disgusted by my behavior, and some aren’t afraid to let me know. Don’t worry; I’m disgusted with myself. I could have killed someone that night.


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Ruin Read Online Samantha Towle (Gods #1) http://www.books2020.com/ruin-1-read-online-samantha-towle Wed, 05 Apr 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/ruin-1-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Gods Series by Samantha Towle
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
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Ruin (Gods #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
1472251474 (ISBN13: 9781472251473)
Book Information:

From Samantha Towle, the New York Times bestselling author of Wardrobe Malfunction and Breaking Hollywood, comes a dramatically powerful and passionate new contemporary romance.
And the new heavyweight champion of the world is...
Those are the words that Zeus Kincaid has been waiting to hear since he first put on a pair of boxing gloves. He just didn't think they would come with a tragedy that would change how he viewed the sport forever.
Cameron Reed was in her second year at Juilliard when her childhood sweetheart, Zeus Kincaid, walked away from her. A few months later, Cam realized that she would never fulfill her dream of dancing for the New York City Ballet.
Now working as a dancer in an upscale club in Manhattan, Cam is brought face-to-face with the man she once loved. And it's her turn to walk away from him.
After five years of missing Cam, Zeus isn't prepared to let her go again. But when he finds himself standing on her doorstep the next morning, things don't go quite as he expected...
Books in Series:

Gods Series by Samantha Towle
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle Books


Zeus

The arena is full. Thousands of people are here to watch this fight.

Watch me fight.

This is where I’ve gotten. The point I’ve reached in my career.

Everything I’ve had to do, endure, sacrifice has brought me to this moment.

I’m waiting in the dressing area with my team, ready to go. TV cameras are with me, ready to follow me to the ring.

It’s a big production. My manager, Marcel Duran, likes to make a show out of everything.

I don’t give a shit about any of that.

I just want to fight.

It’s all I know. All I’m good at.

Twenty-five years old, I’m undefeated. Olympic champion. International Boxing Federation and World Boxing Council world heavyweight champion.

But my opponent, Kaden “The Canadian Devil” Scott, has the World Boxing Organization title, and I want it.

It’ll give me three titles.

And I always get what I want.

Then, after this fight, I’m going for the other two titles—World Boxing Association and the International Boxing Organization—held by that fucker Roman Dimitrov.

I get those, and I’ll have all five. I’ll unify the division.

I’ll be the ultimate.

I’d say it’d make me a god, but I already am.

Zeus “The God” Kincaid.

I was born to do this.

And every fucking thing I’ve lost and had to sacrifice to get here will be worth it.

The hush comes. My heart pounds harder and faster.

I get to my feet.

The cameras move in front of me. I don’t focus on them. I can’t. I’m already in my head.

Walk to the ring. Fight. Win.

That’s all I can think about.

I bounce on my heels. I’m wired. Restless. Filled with pent-up energy that I’m about to expel on the Canadian’s face.

The crackle of the microphone echoes throughout the stadium.

Then, the most recognizable voice in the boxing world starts to speak, “Ladies and gentlemen, get on your feet and be upstanding to welcome your champion…Zeus…‘The God’…Kincaid!”

The soft piano beginning of Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” starts to hum throughout the stadium.

I always come out to this song.

Because it’s what I do when I fight. Lose myself. I forget everything and everyone. Forget my regrets, my mistakes.

I forget her.

The beat kicks in, and that’s my cue. I start walking. Out of the dressing area. Into the hall toward the tunnel.

White curtains hang in front of me, ready to reveal me.

I don’t break stride as they’re drawn back by two ring girls dressed in togas.

The tunnel is lined with Grecian pillars. Marcel fucking loves to ham “The God” theme up.

I jog up the steps and into the arena.

The screams are deafening.

People. Lights. Strobes. Pyrotechnics.

I hear and see none of them.

I see one thing.

The ring. And the person waiting in it for me.

My whole being is taut, rigid, focused as I walk toward the ring, flanked by my team.

A quick glance to where I know my family is sitting—my brothers, Ares and Lo, and my sister, Missy—and then I’m up the steps. I slip in between the ropes.

And it’s time.

My eyes meet Scott’s across the ring.

He looks hard. Empty.

But I’m harder and emptier.

Two rounds, motherfucker, and you’re done.

My music fades out, and the announcer starts to speak again, “And here’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Our fighters are in the ring, and they are ready. In the blue corner, standing at six feet four inches and weighing in at two hundred forty pounds, the current WBO heavyweight champion of the world…‘The Canadian Devil’…Kaden Scott!”

There are a few cheers but more boos from the crowd. Not because Scott’s an ass. From what I know, he’s a decent guy. But he’s Canadian, and we’re in my home country tonight.

And, of course, I’m better.

“And, in the red corner, standing at six feet five inches and weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds, he is the IBF and WBC world heavyweight champion—twenty and O with twenty knockouts—your homegrown champion…‘The God’…Zeus Kincaid!”

The crowd roars. I lift my arms in the air, like I’ve already won. Because, in my mind, I already have.

And he continues, “To the thousands in attendance and the millions watching at home, ladies and gentlemen, from Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City…let’s…geeet…rrrreeeaaady…toooo…ruuummmble!”

The crowd is cheering.

And I’m ready to fight.

I go to my team. My robe is taken off.

I sit down on the stool.

“You’ve got this, Zeus.” My trainer, Mike, is in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his face in mine. “You can nail this motherfucker. He’s good. But you’re better. Three rounds, tops, and he’s yours.”

“Two,” I rumble out before my shield is put in my mouth.

I’m up on my feet. I go to the center of the ring. My team follows.

The referee stands between Scott and me.

I focus on Scott. From hours spent watching tapes of his previous fights, my eyes are on the weaknesses I already know he has.

A fractured cheekbone from a year ago. Cuts easy above his right eye. Nose broken four times.

The referee starts talking, “We went over the rules in the dressing rooms. I want you to keep it clean at all times. Protect yourselves at all times. And what I say, you must obey. Good luck to both of you. Touch gloves. Back to your corners.”


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Breaking Hollywood Read Online Samantha Towle http://www.books2020.com/breaking-hollywood-read-online-samantha-towle Mon, 16 Jan 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/breaking-hollywood-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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Breaking Hollywood

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B0716WYXPW
Book Information:

Breaking Hollywood is a a hot and hilarious standalone romance from New York Times bestselling author Samantha Towle...
It wasn't supposed to be like this...
I wasn't supposed to be boyfriendless, homeless and jobless at twenty-eight. And I most definitely wasn't supposed to hit Hollywood's resident bad boy Gabriel Evans with my car and break his foot. Now I'm stuck in his apartment, taking care of him while he's incapacitated. Living with the hottest guy in Hollywood, who I've had a crush on forever, doesn't sound like a chore, right? Wrong.
Gabriel Evans is rude, crude, drinks way too much and, as soon as his foot is healed, I'm out of here. So, why do I keep forgetting to check the classifieds? And keep getting flustered when I see him shirtless? Breaking Hollywood wasn't part of the plan. But neither was falling in love with him.

'Breaking Hollywood is romantic comedy at its best. It's laugh-out-loud funny, incredibly sexy, sweetly heartfelt and unadulterated fun... You'll be smitten with everything about this entertaining, steamy and feel-good romance' USA Today's Happy Ever After
Loved Breaking Hollywood? Check out Samantha's sexy, laugh-out-loud romance, Wardrobe Malfunction, out now!
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle Books


Ava

Don’t cry.

Don’t you dare cry, Ava Simms.

You’ve gotten through harder things than losing your job.

I’ve lost my job.

Shit. I’ve lost my job.

My boyfriend left me a month ago. I’m homeless as of tomorrow. And, now, I have no job.

Okay. I’m going to cry.

My lip wobbles, and tears start to run from my eyes.

With my heels clicking loudly across the tiled floor of the lobby, I speed walk out of the building, ignoring the receptionist’s curious eyes on me.

Pushing through the rotating door, I’m out of there. Head down, I rush around to the side of the building where my car is parked.

I climb in, shutting the door behind me, and toss my bag on the passenger seat. I jab my key in the ignition and turn the engine on.

I just want to go home.

But I don’t have a home anymore. Not after tomorrow.

And here comes the serious waterworks.

Tears are pouring down my cheeks. I swipe a hand over my eyes, not even caring that I’m probably smudging my makeup.

It’s not like I have anyone to impress anymore.

I slam the shift stick in reverse and hit the gas.

A second later, I go over a small speed bump.

I don’t remember speed bumps being down here.

My head whips around, and I see a body vaulting away from my car.

Oh, shit.

It wasn’t a speed bump.

It was a person.

I just hit a person with my car! Could this day get any worse?

Scrambling out of my car, quickly drying my eyes with my hands, I rush around to find a guy on his ass on the sidewalk, holding his right foot, cursing, and groaning in pain.

“Oh my God! I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay!” he barks. “You just ran over my foot!”

His voice sounds vaguely familiar, like I’ve heard it somewhere before.

I can’t see his face properly, as his head is down, just a head full of dark hair.

“I think it’s broken,” he groans. “Fuck, it hurts.”

I get to my knees beside him, tugging my skirt down to cover my thighs. I knew I should’ve gone with pants this morning.

“What can I do to help?”

“I think you’ve already done enough,” he snaps.

His head lifts, and he stares straight at me.

Oh, Jesus, fuck no.

I recognize those penetrating dark eyes and that brooding, gorgeous face.

Gabriel Evans.

Hollywood’s resident bad boy and my current celebrity crush. I’ve had a few celebrity crushes over the years, but I’m all about the Italian Stallion nowadays. Not that the press calls him that. I just do in my head because he’s part Italian, and I like to think he’s a stallion in the sack.

And he’s stunning to look at. He has a smoking body and that whole badass thing going on. I just love him.

“No,” he says.

“No?” I echo, puzzled.

“No, you can’t have my autograph, and you most definitely cannot take a selfie with me.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for your autograph.”

“Just a selfie then?”

“What? No!”

“You always blush when you’re lying, Speedy?”

Speedy?

“I’m not lying!” My hands automatically go to my cheeks. They’re on fire. That’s what I get for thinking about how hot he is.

“Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! I swear! And people really do that? Ask you for a selfie after they’ve run you over? Because that’s a really shitty thing to do.”

“You’d be surprised what people would do for a picture with me. But I’ve never been run over before. This is my first time, so I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“I don’t want a selfie! Honestly! If I did, I would have asked for one when we met before. Six months ago.” When he blankly stares at me, I fill in, “We met at a club. My friend Charly Michaels is dating Vaughn West. Vaughn introduced us.”

“I don’t remember.”

Oh. I can’t deny that I’m not disappointed. I always hoped that, if I did ever get lucky enough to see Gabriel again, he’d remember me.

But then, why would he? He meets tons of people all the time, and most of them are probably women.

Well, he’ll definitely never forget me now.

Way to get your movie star crush’s attention, Ava. Run over him with your car.

“Well, no worries.” I smile. “My name is Ava—”

“You could be called Candy and strip off all your clothes right now, and I wouldn’t give a fuck. Right now, I just need you to help me get my shoe off because my foot is hurting like hell!”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I remember when my brother broke his foot when we were kids. He pulled his sneaker off straightaway, and he was in agony. He couldn’t walk. My dad had to carry him to the car and take him to the hospital. He cried all the way there. The doctor said his sneaker held his foot together, and if he’d left it on until he got to the hospital, he wouldn’t have been in as much pain. He broke four bones in his foot. Had to have surgery. He was in a cast for months.”


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Unsuitable Read Online Free Books Novels Samantha Towle http://www.books2020.com/unsuitable-read-online-samantha-towle Fri, 05 Aug 2016 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/unsuitable-read-online-samantha-towle Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Drama, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense, Tear Jerker Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Unsuitable

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Samantha Towle
Language:
English
Book Information:

From New York Times bestselling author, Samantha Towle, comes a new sexy, romantic suspense standalone novel...
Daisy Smith has spent eighteen months of her life paying for a crime she didn’t commit. Now out of prison, she has only one focus—to get back custody of her younger brother, Jesse, who is deep in the foster care system. Desperate to rebuild her life and show the system that she is responsible enough to care for Jesse, she takes on the only job available to her—working as a maid at the Matis Estate.
On day one of her new job, Daisy meets Kastor Matis, the only son of the owners and her new boss. An enigmatic, handsome Greek god of a man, Kas is closed off, cold, and…well, kind of a bastard.
The more time Daisy spends around Kas, she starts to see there might be more to him than just his cold, bastard ways. He may actually have a heart beating in that frozen chest of his. But Kas has secrets, too. Secrets that he’s determined to keep.
Secrets make Daisy curious.
And you know what curiosity can do…
Books by Author:

Samantha Towle Books


Seven Years Ago

Where am I?

What’s happening?

Pain everywhere…

Then, I remember.

No.

I force my eyes open.

I can’t see. It’s dark. My sight is blurred. Blood. I can feel it running down into my eye.

I can’t see anything.

I can’t see her.

Holding my breath, I listen…waiting for a sound to tell me where she is.

Nothing.

I try to say her name, but it hurts.

It hurts so much.

My lungs are burning…my stomach is on fire…I’m bleeding…

I have to move. Get help.

I reach my hand out, but all I feel is the damp earth I’m lying on.

I inch my fingers around, trying to find something to hold on to, to help me up, but there’s nothing.

Forcing my eyes open, I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but it doesn’t work.

I rub the back of my hand over my eyes, clearing them of the blood and tears, and finally, I can see.

I turn my head to the side.

She’s there.

And she’s not moving. Her once-pretty pink dress is now covered in blood and dirt, and it’s pushed up, exposing her.

No.

I grit my teeth hard, rage tearing through me.

I drag myself over to her. Pain screams in my body. I press a weak hand to my stomach.

My hand is slick against my shirt.

Wet. So wet. And cold.

I’m bleeding badly. But that doesn’t matter. I just have to get to her. I have to know she’s okay.

She has to be okay.

I’m coming, baby. Just hold on.

I reach her.

Her eyes are open. And blank.

“No…baby…no.” Pure anger tears through me, and I cry out a primal sound.

I collapse beside her. “I’m…s-sorry.” I pull her dress down, covering her up.

My vision blurs again.

My heart is slowing down.

It hurts to breathe, and when I do, it’s like I’m taking in water.

I’m dying.

I close my eyes and reach out for her hand. Taking hold, I curl my fingers around hers.

Footsteps. Heavy footsteps are treading through the undergrowth.

Then, I hear a snuffle.

An animal. A dog maybe?

“Help…” I croak, trying to expel my voice as loud as I can. But, even to my own ears, it’s not enough.

There’s no response.

Using all the strength I have left, I force my voice out. “Help!”

The footsteps stop.

“Is someone there?” a male voice says.

Yes. “Help…please…”

The footsteps start up again, moving quicker, coming closer.

I hear the rustling of leaves from the bushes surrounding us and then, “Jesus Christ!”

Thank God.

The man lands on his knees next to me. A dog licks my face.

“Hank, stop it. I just gotta tie my dog up. I’ll be right back.”

“No! Don’t…go. Help…her…please,” I gargle, blood flooding my throat, as I panic.

He moves away, but he returns a second later. “I’m back. Try not to speak.”

Ignoring him, I say, “Help…her.”

Maybe she’s not really gone.

He can try to revive her…do CPR…

I feel him move over me to get to her. “Honey…can you hear me?”

I force my eyes open, turning my head.

He’s checking her neck for a pulse.

Why didn’t I do that?

Those seconds watching him, waiting…feel like hours.

His expression drops, his eyes closing, with a sad-sounding breath.

And it confirms what I knew was already true.

She’s gone.

My heart rips open and bleeds out with the rest of me.

“Is she…”

“Try not to talk. Just hold on for me, yeah? Can you do that? I’m calling an ambulance right now.” He’s on his phone. “Yes, it’s an emergency. Be quick, please. Two kids…one, she’s not moving. I don’t think…there’s no pulse. The other one, he’s alive…talking, but there’s blood everywhere…so much blood…”

Prologue

Daisy

Eighteen Months Ago

“Tell me again, where were you last night?”

I look at the detective sitting across the table from me. My palms are clammy. I knot my fingers together in my lap.

Why do I have to tell him again? Did he not believe me the first time I told him?

“After I left work, I went straight home, and my boyfriend, Jason, came over. He was with me all night. Ask him; he’ll tell you.”

“My colleague spoke with Jason a few minutes ago.” The detective leans forward. Placing his forearms on the table, he links his hands together. “He told us that he wasn’t with you last night.”

“What?” The word leaves my mouth in a breathless rush.

“Jason told my colleague that he was with his brother and friends, playing cards, at his house all evening and that he didn’t see you at all last night.”

“I-I…what? I don’t understand…” My eyes are frantically searching the room. Confusion and panic are racing through my mind and body. “I don’t understand. Why would Jason say that?”

The detective gives me a steady look, saying nothing.

I lick my lips. My mouth is dry as I try to speak, “Jason is lying. I was with him at my place all night.”

“Can anyone corroborate that?” the detective asks.

Jesse.

No…he stayed out last night at his friend Justin’s house. It was just Jason and me in the house.

Oh God.

“No.” I moisten my lips again. “But I’m telling you the truth, I swear.” I stare steadily into the eyes of the detective, trying to convey that my words are the truth.


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