Lumberjacked (A Holiday Lumberjack Mountain Man Romance) - K.C. Crowne

Description

"My cabin. My rules." Years of celibacy was my way of life.

Now Angela's presence makes things exceptionally....hard

She was supposed to be my hostage.

But Santa must have a sick sense of humor.

I'm addicted to every inch of her…

Her full breasts.

Her Curvy hips.

That sweet scent.

I'm afraid nothing will stop me from having all of her.

The problem is I don't ask. I take.

And there isn't a single inch of her I won't devour.

Readers note: Do you enjoy mysterious men of a few words, with a sexy baritone voice and a hot exotic accent? This is your lucky day. This is a lumberjack, BRATVA, Mountain Man, Holiday Romantic Suspense and the first book standalone in the Grizzly Falls Lumberjacks series.

Viktor

Thunder rocked the sky.

Mud slides and avalanches were common this time of year.

The rain had really done a number on the mountainside. The ground was loose and slippery, and I had to watch my step when I stepped back outside with a coffee mug in my hand.

But being dainty in my step wasn’t easy for a big guy like myself.

I liked nature when it was like this, though.

Dangerous, difficult, and impossible - except for a stubborn motherfucker like myself.

Lost souls that wandered this far would back the fuck off, abandon their quests.

No one ventured out this far, even less so when the ground itself was unstable as fuck.

And that suited me just fine.

I looked around. The world was breathtakingly beautiful in the aftermath of Mother Nature’s work.

Even with all the thunder, nature continued unscathed and unbothered.

The leaves glistened in the late morning sun, birds chirped a welcome to the world, ruffling their feathers and enjoying the rays that sliced through the crisp air.

Nature continuing its pursuit regardless of all the chaos.

If it wasn’t a damn metaphor for my life, I didn’t know what was.

In the distance, I heard rumbling a third time, a thick sound, like a giant clearing his throat. The ground beneath my feet trembled, and I heard branches cracking. Scratch that, whole fucking trunks cracking.

As I watched, the forest a few feet ahead of me started shifting.

At that moment, I knew this was no average mudslide.

It didn't reach all the way up to where I was standing. And that was just a happy fucking coincidence.

The rumbling and groaning of the earth redecorating itself was overpowering. I watched as the giant hand of nature clenched a fist, crushing whatever was in its wake.

Any humans would be pulverized. This part of the mountainside was mine, as I’d come to see it, and it was deserted, so I didn’t have to worry about any deaths and the crowds of investigators and rescuers that might bring.

I let my eyes slide over the part of the mountain that had yet to be transformed. Natural disasters were a kick. Everyone hated them –they were right to. They weren’t called disasters for nothing.

But I liked that there was something bigger and more powerful than me. It was rare.

I liked being reminded that no matter how awful things got, the world still kept turning. And that no matter what a disgusting son of a bitch I’d been once upon a time, in the grand scheme of things, life went on as if I didn’t matter.

The balance, the perspective, kept me sane.

I wanted to see what disasters had fallen near my cabin.

As I meandered through the trees, some upright, some hanging by roots, I cast my eyes in all directions. My eyes landed on a green truck, a little beat up, the paint worn. Sometimes I came across old cars abandoned by their owners decades ago. But this one was new and had no business being in the middle of a mudslide. And it sure as shit wouldn’t be there much longer.

As I gazed at the truck curiously, I heard something I’d least expected. Someone else was here - and they were in trouble. A yelping sound came from the distance.

And then I saw her.

F*ck what the hell is she doing here?

Her auburn hair streamed behind with abandon as she ran with all her might. Whoever this woman was, I could tell she had fight in her, but there was no fucking way she was getting out of the path of destruction in time.

I dropped my axe and ran in her direction. A demented smirk overtook me as I was reminded of my true nature. I always run toward danger and not from it.

The ground started sliding beneath my feet. I worked hard to keep my footing. At 6’6” and mostly muscle,

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