My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,105

for me out there.

If you want to start at the beginning, grab the first book in the Billionaire Bad Boys Series and see for yourself if you can understand what all the hype is about. If nothing else, it’ll be really clear how right you were to love me most when you read my book.

[Click here to read that kinda, sorta funny series with mediocre Cap substitutes]

Anyway, I promise it’s finally time for us to really spend some time together.

Get all kinds of up close and personal, if you know what I’m sayin’.

Yeah. Come September 12th, my beautiful ladies, we’re going to be, as little Miss Maybe would put it, friendly.

Sincerely,

The Cap-i-tain of your heart,

Cap

Love Milo and Maybe and ready for more from Max Monroe?

Well, we’ve got news for you!

More stand-alone romantic comedies are coming this year as a part of our new Billionaire Collection!

You WILL NOT believe the laughs you have coming for you!

Like that bastard Cap said, our next release is September 12th, and he has it all wrong.

Mark your calendar so you don’t miss the taming of his wild ways. ;)

Want more from Max Monroe RIGHT NOW but have already read about ALL the billionaires?

Don’t worry, girl, we’ve got you covered!

If you’re in the mood for some sweet, sexy, swoony, downright hilarious Rom Com and Sports Romance, we know just the books for you!

Our entire Mavericks Tackle Love Series is currently Free in KU, and trust us, you don’t want to miss meeting these sexy football studs if you haven’t met them already.

Start with Wildcat today!

But if you need a bit of convincing, a little excerpt to whet your reading taste buds so to speak, keep reading for a sneak peek of your next must-read!

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Character conversations about royal babies, parenting woes, embarrassing moments, and shitty horoscopes are just the beginning!

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Wildcat Excerpt

Quinn Bailey

The New York Mavericks

#9 | Quarterback

Height: 6-6 | Weight: 228 lbs. | Age: 28

Alma Mater: Alabama

Last Season Stats: TDS: 32 | INT: 7| YDS: 4,478 | RTG: 103.1

You see all of those O’s? That’s my team, The New York Mavericks.

And that little circle in the center with the letters QB? That’s me, Quinn Bailey. I’m the quarterback, and funnily enough, my initials match my job title. Some call it coincidence, but I call it kismet. I was born to eat, sleep, and breathe Mavericks football.

Now, the X’s, well, they’re the other team. You can forget about those because they don’t fucking matter.

When I get done with them, all you’ll remember is me.

Trust me, I’ll make it good.

Are you ready to play?

My phone buzzed as I ducked my head to fit through the door on to my flight, and I glanced down to see who it was.

Instantly, pain exploded above my eye and pulsed along with my heartbeat.

“Ow. Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing at the spot I’d just knocked against the hard metal of the airplane’s exterior. Day after day of eating dirt and turf, compliments of some of the biggest guys in the world, and I was going to end up in the hospital from something as simple as boarding my flight.

“Walking and texting,” a flight attendant said with a sigh, shaking his head. “Hazardous to your health, I tell ya. Just last week, I missed a step on the sidewalk in front of Bloomingdale’s.”

“Wow,” I commiserated. “That sucks. Did you get hurt?”

His voice was somehow grave and shrill at the same time. “I spent four hundred dollars in there after I fell into the sale sign! Four hundred dollars meant for things like eating and self-maintenance. I had to skip breakfast this morning, and my eyebrows are making a bid to become one. Trust me, it’s still hurting.”

I laughed at his tale of woe and decided immediately I liked him. I glanced up again to survey his features, noting he was groomed to the nines—even his so-called overgrown eyebrows—had plump, friendly cheeks, and blue eyes that sparkled.

I wonder if he’s my brother’s type?

Taking my life into my own hands, I focused back on my phone as I navigated the short aisle to my seat in the second row.

A text from my brother sat waiting for me.

Speak of the devil.

Denver: Did you

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