So, a small confession. There is one tireless little cell that constitutes my brain. I’m too scared to go for an MRI or a cat scan. I’d be kept for science experiments.
But when Cyril the Cell (yes, he has a name) fires into life, we are off and running. Look at Cyril go!
Some books flow like honey, some books…I’d rather mine uranium with by bare hands, and Cyril ain’t happy.
I am pleased to say Taming the CEO was honey (at the time) and part uranium, but I love an enemies to lovers story, and the heat and attraction between Daisy and Zan was a dream to write. Did I mention the heartbreaking betrayal? Ah, more later. Yes, I cried, laughed and ate my bodyweight in cheeseballs (that’s a lot of cheeseballs.)
Get your copy of Taming the CEO by Hayson Manning, out now!
To save her family’s business, fledging CEO Daisy Cater must win the bid on a resort on St. Maarten. There’s a small catch, though. The seller insists all bidders visit the island and experience the singles retreat firsthand. This wouldn’t be so bad…if only rule-maker Daisy weren’t paired with her bitter rival, the hot and broody Alexander Gillard. Keeping her enemy close just became a whole lot harder.
Alexander “Zan” Gillard didn’t expect to be partnered with gorgeous Daisy at the idyllic singles retreat. A challenge that has them cuffed together ignites an explosive chemistry, and soon Zan wants more than four days with this bewitching woman who is nothing like he expected her to be.
But their families are at odds and reality awaits them at home, along with a betrayal that threatens to blow their newfound trust apart..
I love The Princess Bride, The Young and the Restless, Days of Our Lives—the drama is deliciously addictive. Big Bang Theory, but will take Wolowitz over Cooper. Star Trek not Star Wars. Undercover Boss, Secret Millionaire—any story that shows the little guy making it. I follow the Buffalo Bills like a religion. I am spellbound by showjumping and equestrian eventing. I love curling up and reading all books—no genre is off-topic. I like ironing, hate peas, love donkeys. I think I play a killer game of Scrabble, but never win. I will often be heading towards the fridge for another Diet Coke. I eat nothing with legs and believe wine goes with everything, oh and I’m an expert at finding new and inventive ways to avoid exercise.
I live in the sparkly beachside suburb of Redondo Beach in California with my fake Gordon Ramsay and two boys who speak in mystifying grunts.
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