A Million to Blow (Million to Blow #1) Read Online Blue Saffire

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Million to Blow Series by Blue Saffire
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
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I was on trial for a year and five months. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. In the last two weeks, I’ve been so stressed out as I’ve been awaiting the verdict. I never felt as much joy in my life as I did when they said not guilty.

You start looking at life differently when you’re facing twenty-five years to life, fed time. The one good thing that came out of me being cleared is that I won’t lose my license. However, at this time, I have no desire to work in the district.

At thirty-two, I made a promise to myself to go and do what makes me happy and be my own boss. Although, I must say it felt good to see all of my clients vouching for me.

I didn’t realize how many people I made rich. Just imagine if I would’ve put that same effort into me. Where would I be?

Should I go back to my old life? I thought about it plenty of times, but I can’t. Not knowing how easy it was for them to throw me under the bus.

They held my money in my accounts all this time. I had big plans for that money. Do you know what effects that has had on a shopaholic like myself? That shit had me so mad, it was like they had me in prison without bars.

All in all, everything hasn’t been so bad. I went back to my first love. I’ve had a love for writing ever since I was a kid. I used to write wonderful short stories with different characters. I started reading these erotic books and let me tell you—wow. I don’t know what happened, but it woke up something inside of me.

After my life exploded, I needed an outlet for all my frustration. I started my very first blog, full of short stories and erotic tales. I knew I had a talent for writing, and it was time to let it be known. Although, I do use a pen name. Some of the stuff I write can be kind of crazy.

I couldn’t believe the amount of money I made in the first three months. I sold short stories from my blog as well as creating a membership. In six months, I had a thousand subscribers. Nothing but loyal readers and good money. Who would’ve thought at thirty-two years old, my childhood dream would pay off after all?

“Big dreams, new things, Sid,” I murmur to myself as I muse.

Chloe is the only person who knows the blog belongs to me. According to her, I have a lot of sexual tension. That’s why it’s so easy for me to write seven blog posts a day. I don’t know, she might be right. I laugh to myself every time she says it.

As I walk into my bedroom, I noticed the time. I hurry up and jump in the shower before Chloe gets here. Despite all my shopping, I decide to wear a simple little black dress, nixing the whole jean ensemble. I’ve been dying to wear this dress. I might as well wear it tonight.

The shoes that I bought today are going to go perfectly with it. They’re the hottest pair of six-inch spike heels. They’re gold and strap around the ankle.

While admiring my shoes and looking myself over in the mirror, my mind drifts. I wonder what this surprise is that Chloe keeps talking about. For the first time in a long time, I’m so excited and can’t even put my finger on why.

Just like clockwork, my doorbell rings. It has to be Chloe. As soon as I open the door, she whistles at me like a New York City construction worker.

“Wow, you looking good, miss,” she catcalls in her best construction worker voice as I spin. “Look at that booty. Sid, I would love to have your shape, that dress is hot.”

“Thanks, hon, you’re looking great yourself. It looks like you’re letting the girls hang loose tonight, huh?”

“I can’t help it. These triple D’s have a mind of their own,” she sings, giving me a sly smile.

The blue-and-cream dress with its deep neckline fits her to a T. Her long legs are on display, looking amazing. I wish I was five-eleven like her, instead of five-two. She has on a bad pair of custom-made ankle boots that match her dress. This girl can dress her ass off. I always said she should’ve done something with fashion.

“Chloe, you look amazing. You look like a runway model,” I compliment, waving her into the apartment.

We walk into my living room laughing, as Chloe sits down, while I finish getting ready. I need to know what the heck is going on and where we’re going? What’s the big secret?

“Hey, Sid, I heard you ran into Amanda today,” she calls as I’m in my bathroom getting ready.


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