Alexis cried it out on her garage floor, knowing Cyrus Lee would be back to collect what he said her father owed him. Blinded from pepper spray and too beaten to breathe, she swore the bastard would never see a dime. She called The Pride. I mean, every girl’s father leaves a dial-a-hero number tucked behind the Monet, right? She must have gotten the number wrong, because the hero is Nicholas Lee, Cyrus Lee’s son.
Targeted Age Group:: adult audiences only
Heat/Violence Level: Heat Level 4 – R Rated
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
This book is inspired by the power of positive influence. I thought it would be fun to dive into what could shape an elite brotherhood of alpha males. Generations walk in their father's footstep, but not because of their wealth. The Pride Academy alumni are the real kind of heroes.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I wanted Nick high moral ground to be believable, but his past to be the ultimate motive to break his own rules.
Nick moved so fast, Alexis only saw a blur. She threw her hands over her ears, crouching in the storm of debris clattering around the room. She made out a roar, looking up to his see his fist at his sides. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his eyes unfocused fury. There was nothing in reach of him. The coat stand, the bookshelf, the plant. They were shredded and impaled in the glass display cases of the far wall and behind his desk.
“You thought I had something to do with it.” His voice was animalistic, fueled with rage. She rose from her crouch, squaring off with the magnificent beast before her.
“I accused you, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t tell me why.” He spit the words at her.
“I certainly did. Because you threatened me.”
“You didn’t tell me it was him.”
“Because it had nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me!”
She swore he grew wider and taller with every heaved breath. Each of them calmed her in a way she couldn’t explain.
“You’re right.” She fed into his argument. Might as well do this only once. “He told me to give you a message.” She stepped over debris, the prey plucking a thorn from the lion’s paw. She wrapped her hand around one wrist, placing her other palm at his chest. Fear danced around his features, but she shook her head. He wouldn’t hurt her, not even on accident. “I knew he hated you because he said to tell RichieNick his Pops enjoyed it.”
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