Don’t miss the chance to get this amazing collection! I wrote a review for one of the stories in the collection, if you’re interested. You can find it HERE. Plus, what Daryl says about the life of a writer is soooo true.
Love a Billionaire Collection by Daryl Devoré released in November in the Romance, Anthology genre.
If you love hot, billionaire romances, then Daryl Devoré’s collection is a must read. Three of her hottest billionaire romances bundled into one smouldering collection.
Desires – When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes.
After a mistake by a surgeon’s scalpel shattered Fuchsia Quinn’s dance career, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward.
Peyton Lang, having run from an impoverished neighbourhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire.
Frustrated that his current multi-million-dollar project is stalled, Peyton drops in to LEATHER-ICIOUS for a quick drink and late night entertainment. What he saw was a beautiful redhead. What he found was he wanted her.
Two O’clock with the Billionaire – Sometimes, a woman has to do what a woman has to do.
Where Derek Davenport is concerned, women only had one thing in mind: trap him into a marriage.
Unemployed and nearing financial desperation, Arianne is forced to step out of her comfort zone. With minimal hours and excellent pay, she accepts the position of courtesan to a handsome billionaire.
Their sexual antics cause emotions neither is willing to admit. Will Arianne and Derek drive each other crazy…or will they fall in love first?
Two Truths and Lie – The legend of Robin Hood and Maid Marian with a twenty-first-century twist.
As if multiple planes crashes, a car accident, and a concussion isn’t enough, carefree Byn and straight-laced billionaire, Mark clash over Byn’s need for independence and Mark’s struggle with guilt pushing him in the opposite direction of love. When an art forger, an art thief and a ninety-year-old woman get involved the chance for true love for Byn and Mark fades.
All is lost until a children’s game is their only hope.
Books2Read – link coming
Print – link coming
Book sprout – for read and review – link coming
Pinterest – link coming
from the 3rd book in this collection – Two Truths and a Lie
All I had to do was steal a rare, red diamond. How hard could that be?
I followed the others into the Whittle Bus, took a seat and turned to look out the window. I didn’t want a seat buddy. I didn’t want a BFF—someone to giggle and bond with. I had a job to do. I had to keep my focus.
Especially if I wanted to live.
I stared blankly out the window, not seeing the city shift to country. Music blared from the bus’s sound system. The driver turned the radio on an All 80s channel. Trying to block the music, I reviewed my evening. First, act like a meek female, not too competent or intelligent who doesn’t speak English fluently. Second, pretend to be an acceptable server and deliver drinks to thirsty, rich people. Third, steal the red diamond.
I didn’t want the gem. Hmph, who was I kidding? I’d love to own it. But, a job’s a job. I’d been commissioned to steal and deliver it to a secure box. And that’s exactly what I intended to do. I’d planned this job for several weeks, if not months. Finally, the right opportunity presented itself and here I was sitting on a bus listening to You Spin Me Round, dressed like a French maid. So unbelievably annoying. The skirt barely covered the bend in my butt. Every time I tugged at the skirt, my boobs started to pop out of the top. Not that there was a lot of boob to pop out. I seemed to be missing the greatly endowed gene. I stifled the fantasy of putting my fingers around the neck of the old pervert that demanded we wear these ridiculous outfits. And gloves. We all had to wear white gloves. Who does that?
I’m guessing the host of the party didn’t want us mere peasants touching anything, leaving our filthy germs which he might pick up and then die of some horrible flesh-eating disease. Hey, a person can dream.
But on the bright side, the gloves played right into my hand―so to speak. I didn’t have to figure out how to conceal a pair of latex gloves. I’d wear these white monstrosities, steal the red diamond and not leave a fingerprint in the whole house.
The bus slowed, passed through the open gates then drove around to the back of a large manor house. I’ll admit the house wasn’t as big as the one in Downton Abbey, but it was still impressive. A reddish-brown brick house with several floors, lots of windows and partially covered in ivy which screamed rich person lives here. The land around it extended for acres in every direction. I’d already done my research on the place. I knew every inch of the outside and inside. I had escape routes planned. Although, I had no intention of needing them. I was confident I was leaving the same way as I’d arrived—on this bus.
Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines and sweet romances with little to no heat. She has several published books available on Amazon in ebook or print book and available at other book retailers via Books2Read.
Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband and 2 cats. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.
The Life of a Writer
by Daryl Devoré
Ahh, the life. Day after day sitting at a laptop furiously typing the latest number 1 New York Times bestseller while the cook prepares lavish meals, the chauffeur polishes the Lamborghini and the nanny takes care of the little ones. Did I mention the pool boy who delivers glasses of ice cold Diet Coke and silver plates covered New Haus chocolates? Chocolates served on silver plates do not have calories – everyone knows that!
And when the stresses of daily life overwhelm, we retreat to our Caribbean island and continue our torrent of writing while nestled in a hammock strung between two palm trees next to the gentle splashes of crystal blue waves. “Yes, Justin, my back does need more sunscreen.”
Slap back of the head and return to reality.
There are days and often months where the “furiously typed words” don’t happen. Why? I’ll limit the reasons to one. The sub-sections of this 1 reason are numerous – probably to infinity and beyond.
#1 – Life. Life loves to throw curve balls at us. In the morning, the day ahead is quiet and free – writing can occur. Then the washer breaks and floods the basement, the parents call and are dropping over in 20 minutes, the dog threw up and what the heck is that smell?????
And let’s just toss in a little pandemic. Now the kidlettes don’t go to school and are really, really bored. How did Jimmy get a Cheerio stuck up his nose? “No, I don’t remember how to multiply compound fractions!”
So, dear reader, when you cuddle down in front of a roaring fireplace for quiet time with a glass of red wine and a cat purring at your feet, give pause for a moment to the hellish pandemonium that the writer went through to not only start but to finish the book you are about to enjoy.
A lot of blood, sweat, tears and whatever that smell was goes into each book.