The Mr. Wrong Series

**From USA Today Bestselling author A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm comes a uniquely fresh and sexy STANDALONE named a 2018 Book Excellence Finalist**   Here's a tip: never trust a jackass in preppy clothing. The phrase "trust me" should have been my first clue to hightail it out the door, but hindsight is always 20/20. So there I was, on a stage with two other men, being asked ridiculous questions by a woman I couldn't see, but whose voice made my pants tighten—and not around my ankles. Before I knew what was happening, I'd signed up for six weeks in paradise, isolated on an island for forty-two days with a complete stranger. And when I finally laid eyes on the sexy brunette who belonged to that voice, a part of me thought this wouldn't be so bad. I've always been a levelheaded guy. I am a successful, smart, and shrewd businessman. But that was when I was listening to the head above my shoulders. Once the blood traveled south, I always ran into trouble. She called me Mr. Wrong, and that was fine with me. Lesson learned: lust always trumps logic.

Here's a tip: never say never. It all started in a barn, rolling around in the hay with a hot brunette. When I hooked-up at my best friend's wedding with the bride's best friend, I had hay in places it should never be. And how my bowtie ended up around my dick was an entirely different story. I'll give you a minute to consider the possibilities. That first romp set the tone, and with each of our sexual encounters that followed they became more risque. The fact that all my fantastic orgasms were coming at the hand of one woman blew me away. My entire adult life I believed monogamy equated to boredom. Everyone knew that variety was the spice of life. I enjoyed the company of a sexy, smart, confident woman. It was my kryptonite. I was a master flirt, and my sexual skills were unsurpassed. Yet, with this woman it was all so different. With this woman, I had met my match. Not only did she rival my appetite for sex, but she also taught me a few things along the way. She called me Mr. Flirt, and could bring me to my knees. Lesson learned: Sex always trumps sanity.

Here's a tip: never underestimate romance. Falling in love was the furthest thing from my mind. I'm a single mother raising a strong little boy, and he is my one and only priority. The universe felt otherwise, sending me—actually, my son's soccer ball—hurdling toward a stunningly handsome, perfect man, who said all the right things. He made it hard to ignore how much I missed romance.  In the past, when I met a man, they ran as soon as they heard I was a widow with a child. Not this guy. No, he fell in love with my son, and in turn, my son fell in love with him. But it was hard to believe he felt the same about me. My job was to be the strong one―to protect our hearts from sweet dreams that never lasted. ~~~ Women told me I was a master of romance. They were right. I knew how to sweep a woman off her feet, to make her feel special, and good in all the right places. I wasn't a saint. I've had my share of one-night stands. They served their purpose, giving me a steady diet of romance without the hassle of commitment. Then one day at the park, a soccer ball came careening toward my head, and my life changed in an instant. I never imagined that true love would come in the form of a five-year-old little boy. And then I got to know his mother: She was strong, independent, drop-dead gorgeous, and someone I desired - I just needed to prove it to her. She called me Mr. Romeo, and that was fine with me. Lesson learned: Love always trumps everything.

Here's a tip: When you least expect it, expect it.   I'd been known to have my share of beautiful women. Usually, I met them in a bar, through a mutual acquaintance, or even when photographing them. Imagine my surprise when a gorgeous blonde drove her car into mine on the way to a party.   No more than a minute after our run-in, a string of colorful words flew from her mouth in rapid fire. Unexplainably, the angrier she became the harder I got. All sorts of scenarios played in my head of how I could get her to shut up. I was all for feisty women, but I preferred leaving that for the bedroom—not on the streets of New York.   When I learned she was a schoolteacher, that worsened my disposition. What man didn't have a dirty teacher fantasy at one point in his life? I decided it was my turn to teach her a thing or two… or so I thought. Little did I know, Miss Prim-and-Proper would turn the tables on me.   She called me Mr. Kinky, and that was fine with me.   Lesson learned: Desire always trumps logic.