Man Flu – A Stand-Alone Romantic Comedy
Shari J. Ryan
I was trying to live every woman’s dream, except my reality has been nothing but a nightmare job and a divorce at the age of thirty-two. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, my ex-husband, Rick, moved in next door with his life-size Barbie doll. So, that’s been fun.
Then, life pitched me a curve-ball in the form of a retired major-league baseball player, Logan Grier. With his panty-dropping smile, he’s like an expertly photoshopped version of David Beckham, and he’s single. Could life be perfect after all? Of course not. As always, there had to be a catch. Logan had a secret, and I couldn’t help feeling like the truth was dangling right in front of my face.
With Rick’s daily agenda of torturing me, Logan has been an enticing distraction, despite the little fact that he’s my temporary employee. Plus, I didn’t exactly care that his flirty behavior may have been a plan to get in good with the boss. In any case, I was willing to toss a few balls with him, seeing as my playing field hadn’t had any action in over a year.
That’s when it happened…my two worlds collided. Hot temp met the ex, and a full-on bromance was born, but that’s only the beginning.
The “man flu” has come out of nowhere and hit both Logan and Rick with a virus they’re claiming to be worse than childbirth. In fact, they’re pretty sure their end is near.
Will the “man flu” be the kiss of death, or will it be my window for an opportunistic change?
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About the Author
Shari J. Ryan is an International Bestselling Author of heartbreakers and mind-benders. Shari was once told she tends to exaggerate often and sometimes talks too much, which would make a great foundation for fictional books. Four years later, Shari has written eleven novels that often leave readers either in tears from laughing or crying.
With her loud Boston girl attitude, Shari isn’t shy about her love for writing or the publishing industry. Along with writing several International bestsellers, Shari has split her time between writing and her longstanding passion for graphic design. In 2014, she started an indie-publishing resource company, MadHat Books, to help fellow authors with their book cover designs, as well as assistance in the self-publishing process.
While Shari may not find many hours to sleep, she still manages to make time for her family. She is a devoted wife to a great guy and a mother to two little boys who remind her daily why she was put on this earth.
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Fast forward almost seven years later and her libido still hasn’t gotten the
Now they’re frenemies… with benefits.
Which suits Azalea just fine. She gets what her body craves while keeping her
heart safe. Kind of.
Mostly.Drake has loved Azalea since the day they met. He knows that she’s his forever.
If only he could convince her that it’s real this time. He’s more determined
than ever to prove to Azalea that chemistry like theirs doesn’t exist only in
The odds may be against Drake, but he’s prepared for an uphill battle.
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“Hey, Nathan,” Tegan calls. I look over and find him looking behind me. “Isn’t that—” He stops midsentence, leans forward, causing Willow to lean with him, and squints. A big grin spreads across his face a second later, and his eyes flicker to me. “9B,” he finishes, then leans back in his chair.
My back straightens, and I whip my head around. My eyes tighten into slits as I look through the darkness of the room. The place is packed with bodies. Some at tables, some standing around talking to others, some out on the dance floor. I look from one person to the next, seeking out the only person of interest to me.
It doesn’t take long before I find her. She’s out on the dance floor, facing me, with some guy standing behind her. His hands are on her hips as she slowly sways to the music. Her blonde hair is swept up high on her head. With her eyes closed, she’s resting her head back against the guy’s chest with her arms lifted and her hands tangled in his hair.
There’s about thirty feet separating us and it’s dark in the room, but I can still see the look of pleasure on her face. My dick, already at attention, grows thicker. Someone steps in my line of sight, blocking her from view, and a growl leaves my lips. I’m just about to get up and knock the fucker away, when he moves.
Not bothering to tell the others I’m leaving, I get up and grab my beer to move closer. There’s a table at the edge of the dance floor that’s conveniently empty. I turn the chair around so it faces the dance floor and take a seat. There’s now only fifteen feet between us.
She’s wearing a black silky halter-type dress that hugs her tits, then turns loose and flows down the rest of her body. It stops midthigh, but with her arms raised, it barely covers her cunt. I have no doubt if she were to bend over, her ass would show. Her black sandals are high, and even in the dark, they sparkle from some type of glittery shit that’s all over them.
My eyes slowly rake down her body, taking in every inch of her. I’ve seen her completely bare, but never this close. Her naked body is a work of art, but seeing her this close, even clothed, is so much better.
When my gaze finally tracks back up to her face, my damn dick begs to be let loose. Her eyes are now open and she’s looking straight at me. She appears surprised, which makes me wonder if she remembers me from this morning on the street.
The shock is soon replaced with lust. Her tongue darts out to lick along her lips and her gaze turns hooded. My body responds to her blatant show of want. She doesn’t know me, but she still wants me from just a simple look.
She slowly lowers her arms, her nails dragging over the guy’s neck, then runs them down her sides. They skim along the outside of her tits, over his hands that are still on her hips, to the tops of her thighs. Her eyes stay connected with mine the whole time, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. The guy behind her pushes his hips forward, grinding into her ass. She bites her lip and presses herself back against him. When his lips land on the side of her neck, she tilts her head to the side, giving him better access.
My hand tightens around my beer.
Fuck me. This woman is a goddamn temptress and she knows just what to do to tempt my
I grab my dick and try in vain to make more room in my jeans. Her eyes widen when I move my hand away. I bring my beer to my lips and take a long pull. With a smirk, I sit back in my seat and enjoy the show.
Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Cover Design: Michele Catalano Creative
“Boldly smart and sassy characters.” ~ GR ReviewFrom New York Times Bestselling Author, S.L. Scott, comes this downright
delicious peek into the male anatomy… er, mind of Hardy Richard.
There are only two rules:
1. Don’t get too close.
2. Don’t fall in love.
Correction: Don’t ever fall in love. I don’t need the baggage of relationships.
Life should be simple, easy, uncomplicated.
The problem I’m faced with is, if I really believe life should be that easy,
that uncomplicated, and that simple, then why am I still thinking about a woman
I met on a random Monday at the bar? A girl who was never a Gimlet, and always
a Paloma. Yep, I called it all wrong last night and I’m starting to wonder if
my heart will pay the price.
I might have broken rule number one, but rule number two remains firmly intact.
For now. Sort of. Okay, maybe rule two hasn’t been broken, but it’s definitely