Southern Heat Series by Stephie Rose

I'm the reformed bad boy. She's the best-selling author on the run. What I never expected was for her to become my obsession. The second her eyes meet mine at the airport, something ignites in my blood. When she accepts my offer of shelter, I know Savannah James is a temptation I can't resist. Her secrets mirror the darkness I've buried. Her vulnerability awakens a need to claim without crushing. The curve of her neck when she writes has me clenching my fists... moreI'm the reformed bad boy. She's the best-selling author on the run. What I never expected was for her to become my obsession. The second her eyes meet mine at the airport, something ignites in my blood. When she accepts my offer of shelter, I know Savannah James is a temptation I can't resist. Her secrets mirror the darkness I've buried. Her vulnerability awakens a need to claim without crushing. The curve of her neck when she writes has me clenching my fists. At night, I watch her silhouette through curtains, wanting. For the first time since rebuilding my life, I'm consumed. When her ex threatens her, something primal takes over. Controlled. Focused. Protective. But I'm hiding my truth—millions concealed behind modest walls. Together, we've constructed careful lies, and when they shatter publicly, I might lose the woman whose taste haunts me. Now I must choose between secrets that protected me or the woman who's set my soul on fire. Content Contains open-door intimate scenes and explores themes of addiction and family loss. This steamy romance delivers an emotionally satisfying happily ever after. less

Finding Jackson Brooks in my office wasn't on my Monday agenda. Except it is. The country music god who destroyed me four years ago just manipulated an eight-figure book deal to force me into editing his memoir. I should tell him to go to hell, but I can't refuse without destroying my career. Instead, I'm drowning in those sinful hazel eyes while he talks about "deep collaboration" like the charming devil he is. Four years ago, he chose platinum records over me. Called me a liability... moreFinding Jackson Brooks in my office wasn't on my Monday agenda. Except it is. The country music god who destroyed me four years ago just manipulated an eight-figure book deal to force me into editing his memoir. I should tell him to go to hell, but I can't refuse without destroying my career. Instead, I'm drowning in those sinful hazel eyes while he talks about "deep collaboration" like the charming devil he is. Four years ago, he chose platinum records over me. Called me a liability. Left me shattered. Now he's back, all raw magnetism and that voice that has women throwing their panties on stage, acting like he can charm his way back between my thighs. And damn him, it's working. I'm falling all over again. Except I've got a four-year-old secret with his eyes who hums daddy's songs like prayers. When he walks into my favorite coffee shop, I'm sitting frozen, watching my world collapse. My blood turns to ice as he hears a little boy's voice. I can't breathe when those hazel eyes widen and lock on mine. When he whispers the words that could destroy everything. “My son. ”. less