Title: ICE (Regulators MC, #1)
Authors: Chelsea Camaron and Jessie Lane
Release Date: December 8, 2014
PURCHASE LINKS ...
Looking at my phone screen, I smile at the text in front of me.
I’m off 2nite. Movie @ ur house or mine?
Texting back, I tell my best friend I will be at her house after work with takeout. Working in a bank, I have every weekend off. Casey’s career path is far different than mine, though, and it is one that requires weekend time; as a result, this is the first Friday she has had off in a while.
My day drags on as I review current investment portfolios and market changes. I have the best job ever. I get paid to spend other people’s money as an investment broker here in South Beach. My life is sun, sand, and dollar bills.
Before going to Casey’s, I stop by my condo and change clothes. The down side to my job is the stuffy suits I have to wear: reasonable, past knee-length skirts, reasonable women’s dress pants, and reasonable button up shirts. I might hate them; yet, in a sad way, the dress code fits my life—reasonable.
It is not long into girl’s night before the difference in our lifestyle’s show.
“Damn, we’re not even halfway through the first movie, and you’re ready for bed? What the hell? Grandparents stay up later than you,” My best friend wakes me out of my doze.
“Sorry, some of us keep normal business hours.”
“Yeah, your hours scream forty-two, not twenty-four, as does everything else in your life.”
“I’m not that bad,” I protest half-heartedly. However, that voice of doubt says “maybe I am.” Maybe my stiff upbringing has rubbed off on me more than I care to admit.
My parents raised me to be an example. As the oldest of three, I had to be the light to guide my younger sisters, Madyson and Mallory. Everything with my parents was about fitting the mold, keeping up appearances. Their brainwashing worked to some degree. Going away to college did nothing for me in my attempt to escape my overbearing parents, either. No, they live in my head, every rule engraved into my brain matter. Too bad no one warned me there is no cure and no escape once they get those rules engrained into my very being.
Morgan Ann Powell: pathetic, stiff, borderline pseudo-old lady, and a college educated, suit wearing, have my shit together prude—that is me. I am, quite possibly, the only woman in her twenties who can count on one hand how many guys she has kissed. I am also a twenty-four-year-old virgin. I wouldn’t know what to do with a penis if it was given to me gift wrapped in Christmas paper and topped with a bow. I am not cut out for parties, guys, or any wild times, either. My destiny is to be the old lady who lives alone, feeding all the stray cats in the neighborhood.
About the Authors