The Brash Brothers Ultimate Book Bundle
The Brash Brothers Ultimate Book Bundle
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AUDIO NARRATION - SAMPLE
KADE CHAPTER 1 - FEMALE SAMPLE KADE CHAPTER 2 - MALE SAMPLE
SYNOPSIS
SYNOPSIS
Orphans. Rejects. Criminals.
We banded together and built an empire.
Now we're brothers, billionaires.
And one by one, we're about to meet our perfect match.
CONTENT WARNING
CONTENT WARNING
These books contains nut punching, shenanigans, and characters that swear like sailors. Please be advised.
These characters come from traumatic backgrounds, and these are discussed openly on page.
While these books may be a slow burn, they do contain open door sexual situations.
Intro into Chapter 1 - Kade
Intro into Chapter 1 - Kade
“Like I told you, lady, there’s no apartment for rent here.”
The man’s brows are lowered, his tone hostile. He’s clearly frustrated with me, but I’m too freaked out to care. There are eyes on me. So many eyes. I hate that I’m putting on a show for the whole neighborhood, but I can’t just give up. It all has to be a big mistake.
I rush up the last step to the landing, coming within a foot of the man blocking my way into the building. His gray hair is standing on end, pajamas rumpled and hanging crookedly off his frame. He matches the building. It’s not the nicest building on the street, but it’s definitely not the shittiest. I lower my voice.
“Please, check again. I’m renting a room from Cassandra in Four-B. She’s expecting me tonight.” I press redial on my phone, hoping that the number I have for Cassandra will magically work. The not-in-service message plays again, and I have to choke the bile down. Keep it together, Becca.
The building manager sighs and shakes his head, a thread of pity coloring his voice. “Lady, Mrs. Cruz lives in Four-B. She’s been there thirty years. I been here twenty-three, and I know everybody in this building. There ain’t a Cassandra living here.” He winces, “You been scammed.”
Even as I shake my head in denial, I know he’s right. I’d been talking to Cassandra for the last two weeks, but yesterday I sent her my part of the security deposit and first and last months’ rent. I sent her $2700, literally everything I had. The bank service fees at the end of the month are going to overdraw my account. Of course, her phone number is disconnected now. She got what she wanted.
The manager’s voice interrupts my whirling thoughts.
“Look,” he says, his mouth twisted, “You’d better find somewhere to go quick. All that stuff in your car is a big fucking neon sign in this neighborhood.”
I can’t help but snort. Ya, a gigantic neon sign that says ‘gullible fool.’
I glance back at my ancient sedan, filled with literally everything I own. The car and all my shit together are probably worth less than the $2700 I just lost, but I can’t stomach the idea of losing anything more.
I’ve already had everything that truly mattered to me taken away, but somehow the idea of someone stealing my photo albums nearly sends me over the edge, and I have to fight back tears. I’m not a crier. Never have been, so the freaking waterworks are pissing me off. I won’t give the eyes staring at me from the windows and from the street corner the satisfaction of seeing me break. I turn back to the manager, dodging the stares from our audience.
“I don’t know where to go…I’m not from here.” My throat feels tight.
He shakes his head and rubs the stubble on his chin before opening the door to lean further out. “There’s a few not too shitty motels about twelve blocks east of here. Try there.” He steps back and mutters, “Good luck, kid,” as he shuts the door in my face, already heading back to his warm bed.
I try to shut out the gawkers, focusing instead on the wail of sirens in the distance. This city is too fucking loud. I walk back to my car, head spinning.
How the hell did I get in this position? I’m not a stupid person.
Why did I believe that bitch when she told me she needed the money right away?
As I rest my head on the steering wheel, I have to admit to myself that my decision-making has not been the best since Dad died. I feel like I’ve been in a pit of pain and grief. I’m only just climbing out of it, keeping my shit together as best I can. I think I did a good job handling the estate, getting the house sold, and the medical bills paid.
Packing up twenty-six years of memories nearly broke me. I kept it together then, but sitting in my car, here in a crappy neighborhood in a city my small-town dad not-so-affectionately called a shithole. I feel like the tape and glue holding all my pieces together are failing.
“One move at a time, Becca,” I whisper to myself. “What’s the next move?”
I center my breathing the way we did before every martial-arts class, and in a few minutes, I feel calm enough to think. All the cash I have in the world is in my purse. That $374 was supposed to tide me over for the next few weeks while I found a job—preferably one with great tips. But the manager was right. I can’t stay here any longer. So much for my fresh start.
The hairs on the back of my neck are already standing up, the same way they did the night Dad’s breathing finally stopped. I trusted that feeling and was holding his hand when he passed, instead of crying in my bed. Now, those hairs are telling me something bad is coming for me if I don’t move my ass. No way I’ll ignore them.
“Okay, motel it is,” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel.
I say a little prayer before I start my car, relaxing when the engine only sputters a bit before turning over, checking my rearview mirror out of habit, but I can’t even see out the back window. I did the same thing the entire four-hour drive from home. I shake my head and pull onto the street, heading east.
This late at night, the city is dark, but not dark like home. Between the streetlights and the lights from all the buildings, I doubt it’s ever truly dark here. I peek up at the sky through my windshield. There’s not a star visible in the light night sky.
What a miserable place to live.
Again, I wish I could have stayed in McKinley, but I felt like there was quicksand every step I took there. My friends, all the people I relied on, drifted away, unable to take my pain, my grief. The memories of my life, of Dad, were sucking me down into that pit, and I felt like if I didn’t get out now, I wouldn’t survive it.
I only make it a few blocks before my heart sinks. My gauges are lit up with flashing warning lights. Please no. I can’t handle anything more tonight. A sob escapes before I can rein it in. Jake warned me the car needed work, but I’ve been praying that it would hang in there. But of course, this is the way my life works now. What’s one more hit, right? Life before Dad got sick was…amazing.
Now, I’m walking a damn tightrope.
I scan the street desperately but only see shuttered storefronts and dark windows. As I stumble through a prayer, I can’t help but laugh at what Dad would think of all of this. I can picture his tanned brown face and laughing blue eyes as he shakes his finger at me.
“Plans made in haste, my little Becca, are doomed to fail.”
Dad was big on plans. I used to be too. Funny how losing everything you love in a matter of months changes you. Now? Well, I can’t summon more than a little bit of panic.
A wet giggle of relief slips out as I see a sign in the distance “Brash Auto.” Thank you, Baby Jesus, Buddha, and all the others. My car makes a terrifying chugging/coughing sound before the engine stops. I’m traveling down the street in near silence, the sound of my tires rolling on the asphalt the only thing I hear over my panting breaths.
“Just a little farther. C’mon, car. You can do it.”
It feels like it takes a year to roll to a stop in the garage’s parking lot. My celebration is cut short when I see it’s locked up tight. Of course it is. Why would they be open this late? I still head over to the door and try the handle.
It’s locked.
“Well, fuck.” I huff out a breath, making my bangs flutter, and take stock of my surroundings.
The night is quiet, only a few cars passing. Around me are more shuttered industrial buildings, and I don’t see a single person. The hairs on the back of my neck are laying smooth, though, bringing me a small bit of comfort. My options are limited. I know I could leave my car here and call for a ride, but I hate the idea of leaving everything I have left here without me. Plus, I really can’t afford it. It’ll be morning before I know it, and I’ve slept in less comfortable places. I nod as I sort through my options, convinced my plan is the right one. I’ll stay here.
I pull my fleece blanket out of the back seat, then crawl back into the driver’s and cover myself up. The night is chilly, but thankfully the last hints of winter are gone. It could be so much worse, I tell myself as I recline my seat as far as I can.
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
I would almost believe it if not for the exhausted tears escaping my closed eyes.
I can’t sit still.
Mia’s still asleep in the bedroom for her afternoon nap, and I can’t stop pacing. I didn’t realize things were going to move this fast. I thought Holly might send us bus tickets, and we’d get to Chicago sometime tomorrow. Instead, a man named Colton sent me a message. Pulling open the text thread, I reread our messages.
Unknown: Hi Evie. This is Colton Miles. I’m a friend of Holly’s. I’m going to come and get you and your little girl. Can you be ready by four?
Me: How do you know Holly exactly?
Colton: Her man Micah is my brother. She’s family.
Me: Ok. I’m going to check with Holly.
Me: Yes, I can be ready by four.
Colton: Great. I’ll see you then.
Me: Don’t you need my address?
Colton: No, honey. I know where you live. Be there soon.
I had to check with Holly, but she vouched for him, told me I’d be super safe with him, and then told me not to judge the book by the cover.
I’m mentally preparing for Quasimodo to knock on my door any minute and practicing my calm face in the mirror. Before, a calm face was second nature. When you’re dealing with terrified parents and sick babies every day, calm is vital. Custodians, well, they blend into the woodwork, so other than Mia’s occasional owie, I haven’t needed it.
There’s a gentle knock on the door, and I have to suck in a breath. I dry my clammy hands on my too-loose jeans and move to the peephole. One quick glance sets my heart racing.
“Ah…you have the wrong door.”
“No honey,” comes the deep, warm voice. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. It’s Colton, Evie.”
I put my eye back to the peephole, trying to wrap my mind around the man standing outside. He’s got to be the biggest man I’ve ever seen, and probably one of the scariest. Even through his clothes, I can tell he’s got more muscles than Arnold when he played Conan the Barbarian in the eighties. Tattoos, partially covered by the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt, cover his arms. And I’m pretty sure he’s got more on his neck. His hair is dark, cut close to his scalp, with heavy dark eyebrows and a short black beard.
He looks like a criminal.
A really hot, sexy lumberjack-type criminal.
And despite that, there’s something about him that makes me want to give him a hug.
I’m seriously rethinking this. Opening my door to this man, letting him in my home and anywhere near my daughter feels like a bad idea, no matter how huggable he may seem. Maybe I should just be looking for a different neighborhood or something, instead of traveling to a whole new city.
I startle when my cell rings in my hand. Holly’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hello,” I answer, my voice hoarse.
“Is he there? Colt texted he was outside. Are you with him?” She sounds way too excited about this.
Unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I ask. “There’s a man outside my door, but he looks….” I trail off, not even sure how to describe the wall of muscle in the hallway.
“Looks huge, scary, and tattooed?” She asks with a smile in her voice. “That’s Colt. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met. You are so safe with him, Evie, I promise.”
I peek again, and he’s still standing there, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, waiting. No sign of frustration or anger. Instead, a small smile plays on his lips.
I say a quick goodbye to Holly and tuck my phone into my pocket, then reach out and start working on the locks. I’m tempted to talk to him through the chain, but I don’t want to be a dick. Holly vouched for him, and if she, a woman who spent years being hurt by a man, can trust him, then I can too. My throat tight, I finally swing open the door.
Continue Reading Colton, if you love:
- Cinnamon Roll Heroes
- He falls first
- Found family
- Lumberjack looking billionaires
- Single mom's being swept away in private planes
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "These are definitely sloooooow burn which is never my style but I was laughing within the first few pages and then sucked in by the storyline! I can not wait for the rest of the books to come out, I devoured all 5 that are out in 3 days!"
- Reviewer
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Kade was so unexpectedly good. Unexpected in that it wasn’t your stereotypical feel-good billionaire romance. It had such a surprising depth to it even while it maintained the bit of humor and instant character chemistry that hooked you the first chapter."
- Reviewer
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Orphans. Rejects. Criminals.
We banded together and built an empire.
Now we're brothers, billionaires.
And one by one, we're about to meet our perfect match.
Books Available in Bundle
- Kade
- Micah
- Colton
- Declan
- Zach