(FIRST PRINTS) The Tyrant’s Secret Cabin: Billionaire Grump, Enemies to Lovers Romance (Secrets Series, Book 2 - Paperback)

FIRST PRINT - LIMITED QUANTITIES

A crazed billionaire.
A cabin in the woods.
And no one to hear my screams...of desire.

When I took a long-awaited vacation from crunching numbers for big business, I didn’t know I would be tricked into staying at a billionaire CEO’s private cabin in the woods.

With his chiseled muscles and deep blue eyes, David Stratford is...overqualified in every way. But his company is failing, and David believes I have the solution to turn his fortunes around. When he broke into my cabin, I didn’t give him what he wanted. I’m not a corporate spy.

But he won’t take no for an answer.

Now David has me locked in a room with only one way out: I need to submit to his demands. And the longer I am his captive, the more desperate I am for my primal urges to be quenched.

In a depraved way, David thinks he has the upper hand. He is mistaken.
He’s in for a long, hard ride.
One that he will never forget.

This is book two in the Secrets Series.
Enemies to Lovers Adult Romance

These enemies to lovers confront their passions in this forced proximity steamy romance. The Tyrant’s Secret Cabin is a push-and-pull between a billionaire alpha male and a sassy female. No cheating, no cliffhanger, guaranteed HEA.

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Books in the Series:

• Book 1 The Tyrant's Secret Safe House
• Book 2 The Tyrant's Secret Cabin
• Book 3 The Tyrant's Island Compound
• Book 4 The Ruthless Billionaire Boss
• Book 5 Adrian
• Book 6 Secret Dark Desires

Format: Paperback, Autographed

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Enjoy a Sample from "The Tyrant's Secret Cabin."

I had her trapped and all mine. She would do what I told her to do. What I made her do. She would never leave here without my permission. After days with me, her scent became intoxicating. I wanted more than just conversation. The moist folds between her thighs beckoned to me, and the bulge in my pants wanted to respond.

Seeing her daily was too much for me to take. My obsession with her was beyond normal. It became primal.

What was it that made me want her? Was it because I controlled her? Or was it because she controlled me? No matter, the desire was there. Yet for all I did to her, she probably wants me dead. The last thing she would want is me deep inside her, thrusting and grinding.

She wasn’t that lost kitten type; she was a strong and independent woman, as she should be, since she is one of the top financial experts in the industry. Yet all that does is increase my sexual desire for her.

 No matter how many interviews I’ve done, I’ve never gotten used to studio lights blazing in my eyes. The regular anchormen always make it look like it’s nothing.

I squirm in my chair, pulling down on my skirt to make sure it covers my knees, and take a deep breath. The chair across from me is still empty. Wendell Barret, the guy I’m talking with, always cuts these segments close, arriving just before the countdown to air.

I catch sight of Cassidy, my makeup artist, bustling over to me. “Touch-ups!” she cries out urgently. “Close your eyes.”

I follow Cassidy’s instructions. She swipes mascara onto my upper lashes for the umpteenth time. “You sure we can’t try falsies today?”

“Not today, not ever,” I say dryly, flicking my eyes open and looking at the makeup artist. Cassidy always looks like she’s been pulled right out of a fashion magazine; her makeup is always perfect, and not a single dark hair is out of place. “This is CNN, not Entertainment Tonight.”

Cassidy rolls her eyes. “Just because you’re talking about boring things doesn’t mean you have to look boring. All the other girls wear them on set.”

I purse my lips. I get comments like this a lot. If I just wore this or did my hair like that, I’d look more… more what? Prettier? More womanly? I don’t give a shit. I’m not here for that. I’m here to deliver critical financial projections and information to viewers. That’s why they’ve hired me. Not because the people watching want to fuck me. “Not for me, Cass.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re not like other girls,” she teases.

The floor director rushes across the sound stage. “One minute to air! Does someone have eyes on Barret?”

See? Classic Barret.

“Congratulations on CSL,” Cassidy says to me, pulling out some powder and swiping it over my forehead and under my eyes. “I have no idea what any of it means, but it sounds like a big deal.”

“Twenty seconds!”

I smile. “Thanks, Cass. We’ve all been working really hard on it.”

Wendell Barret appears on set, adjusting his earpiece as he walks. He gives me his licentious and smug smile. “Good to see you, Ms. James.”

“Ten seconds!”

“You too, Mr. Barret.”

“Your hair, Wendell!” Cassidy exclaims and tries to pull at the front of his locks to somehow make his jet-black hair not look like a skullcap.

Wendell waves her off like she’s an annoying bug, and she skitters off the soundstage to get out of the shot.

“We’re live in five… four… three… two…” The floor director points at Barret to bring in the segment.

There’s a beautiful stillness about a soundstage just before a broadcast starts. That liminal space between everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off and the calm, even keel of a news anchor giving his spiel. It’s perfect and fleeting.

“Thanks, Damien. I’m here with Allysa James, renowned financial expert and consultant. You might be familiar with Ms. James as a correspondent on many of our shows here on CNN. But today, Ms. James is here representing CSL, formerly Cohen Savings and Loan, to talk about their new status as one of the few trillion-dollar companies in the world.” Wendell turns his attention to me. “Welcome to the show, Allysa.”

“Thanks, Wendell.”

“And congratulations. This is an unprecedented accomplishment.”

I smile. “I don’t see it as unprecedented.”

Wendell laughs. “Well, that’s why you’re the expert. Could you walk me through how CSL, which was on the precipice of bankruptcy twenty years ago, went on to become the company they are today?”

“Well, we all know about the reinvigoration of Cohen Savings and Loan established by Natalie Rose. Her method has established a new corporate best practice of employee-led business planning. The tag team of Rose and Cohen proved unstoppable.”

“But it wasn’t until the last two years of Matthew Cohen’s tenure as CEO that they met their financial projections. How is it that, in twelve years, things have gone gangbusters?”

I shake my head. “Financial projections are always a goal, right? Just like our New Year’s resolutions--if you’re foolish enough to make them.” Wendell chuckles, and I continued. “Matthew Cohen created a culture of optimism. I was very lucky to have worked under him for the last three years of his time as CEO.”

“Yes. I remember breaking the news of Matthew Cohen’s retirement. He was still so young and it seemed like he had a lot left to give the company. What happened?”

I resist rolling my eyes. “Matthew and Natalie were bringing up their family the entire time they were running the company. It was only a matter of time before they realized that balance required them choosing one or the other.”

“So that brings me to Sarah Beckman. The announcement of bringing in an outsider to run Cohen Savings and Loan was a shock to us all. Can you tell me why Harlan Reed remained VP instead of taking over the helm?”

“Harlan is a Cinderella story. One morning he was a security guard, the next the vice president of a major finance firm. He knows the ropes, but some people are born to straddle the line better than others. It was his choice to remain VP, despite Matthew’s offering him the position.”

“Straddle the line. What does that mean?”

I pause to search for the right words. “Well, Harlan’s an everyman; any man or woman, whatever their life or background, can see themselves in him. He embodies strategies of empathy between corporate leadership and employees. So there would be nothing worse than to make Harlan Reed untouchable.”

“Is that what a president is? Untouchable.”

“For lack of a better word, yes.”

“Fascinating. Now, this is Sarah’s tenth year as CEO. What’s her leadership done for the company?”

“Well, let me be clear. The transference of power was incredibly purposeful. Matthew stayed on quite a bit to make sure she was ingratiated into the community. Bringing in an outsider is always a risk, and—”

Wendell holds up his hand, his pen in his fingers. God, I hate when he does that. “Let me ask, Allysa. Did you want to be president of CSL?”

“Wendell, I was twenty-seven years old. It’s already hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman in this industry, let alone a woman under thirty.”

“It feels like that ought to have changed by now.”

I smile, saccharinely sweet. “Yes, well, maybe if we stop looking at the work Sarah and I have done as ‘unprecedented’ –”

“Yes, I am sorry for that remark.”

I shake off his apology. He’s so full of hot air. “With Sarah came a total rebrand. We moved away from the stodgy ‘Savings and Loan’ moniker and condensed our brand to ‘CSL’. That’s how we’ve become a household name. Along with that came a modernization of our corporate culture; something we call reckless optimism.”

Wendell scoffs and throws his head back, and I can see a patch of stubble he missed while shaving. “Surely you aren’t telling me that CSL’s success can be chalked up to manifestation?”

“Of course not. But attitude is everything in this business.”

“Is that how you’ve gotten where you are now, Allysa?”

I can’t help but resent his remark. As a woman, a good attitude is an expectation, not an extra skill. “No. You’re missing my point, Wendell.”

“Enlighten me then. You always do.”

I try not to grit my teeth; Sarah always says I look like a wolf when I do that on television. “We are able to retain the most skilled people in our industry by treating them with respect and faith. It’s a chicken and an egg situation.”

“Or an ouroboros.”

“Perhaps you could say it’s the snake eating its own tail if we were floundering. But we’re not. We’re at the top of the corporate ladder, along with the likes of Apple and Google. You could hold the number of trillion-dollar companies in one hand. It’s not luck, and it’s not manifestation as you’re implying.”


Wendell takes a deep breath. We could spar all day if we had to; but I have meetings to get to, and there’s already a producer signaling that we need to wrap things up. “Then I guess what I’m really trying to say is, how are you the best financial advisor in the country?”

I smirk. It’s hard to believe that’s what people consider me. But I know I am. I’m sought after by every large investment firm in the country. None of them hold a candle to CSL though; I’ve been there too long and have too much loyalty, both for and from the company. Plus, my paycheck would make Wendell Barret keel over from shock.

But saying in an interview, “I’m good at what I do,” just isn’t good enough. They want answers. Concrete reasons.

“You’re going to hate me for this, Wendell, but the only answer I have for you is timing. Everything in this business is about timing. About movement. You do it long enough, it becomes a sixth sense. And just like some people favor sound and become musicians or favor taste and become chefs, I favor numbers.” I lean forward to Wendell. I want him to hear this loud and clear. “But the amazing thing about numbers is that they never, ever lie.”

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