Romanced by the Mountain Man Read Online Mia Brody

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
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The rural town sees some tourists for its old-fashioned charm but it’s not like Charleston, South Carolina where I’m from. Thousands of tourists flood our city every year, and I love that. Tourism helps the local businesses, and it’s fun to meet new people.

“Maybe it’ll turn out well though.” I’ve been reading a book on self-compassion, and it encouraged me to talk to myself the way I would a friend. Right now, I’m trying to channel my friend and fellow writer, Zoey Hart. She always has something cheerful to say to me. She’s my biggest supporter, but I don’t know how she’d feel about this little detour.

I was supposed to be on my way back from a book signing in Asheville. If all went well, I’d be home in just a few hours. Instead, I’m taking the scenic route. Yes, the scenic route involves driving through Courage County. It’s the place where he lives. My book narrator.

OK, most authors hire a narrator when they start creating audiobooks. If they happen to write a book with a hero and heroine falling in love, then they would need male and female narrators.

I was trying to save money in the start and read out the heroine’s parts which meant I only had to find a hero. My narrator was an unknown when we began working together. I took a chance on him, and he took a chance on me. Now, we’ve read three books together over six months. Plenty of long nights repeating dirty words to each other.

Oh, Landon Shaw is never anything but professional with me. Sometimes, there’s a slightly flirty tone to our messages and once, I thought maybe he was trying to figure out if I have a boyfriend. But there’s nothing between us. Absolutely no reason for me to go visit him. Except that I have to.

I can’t explain it, and this is going to sound a little bit ridiculous, but I think he’s my soulmate. No, scratch that. I know he is my soulmate. Deep in my gut, there’s a knowledge that I’m meant to be with him.

I’m not sure he feels the connection just yet. After all, I invited him to my book signing today but he didn’t show up. He didn’t message me back after that. Maybe going to see him after his clear sign that he’s not interested is a little weird. Maybe it even borders on stalking. But I’m pretty sure Landon is just shy.

He has social media accounts for his book narration services, yet he’s never posted a picture of himself. He just has a sterile logo for his avatar. His posts are all about the books he’s read and the authors he’s working with. There’s absolutely nothing personal.

He let it slip once in a private message that he lives in Courage County, North Carolina. That explains the delicious Southern drawl he has. That combined with his deep, raspy tone makes it sound like his voice is whiskey mixed with gravel.

I hit a pothole on the side of the road, startling me from my thoughts about the sexy book narrator. My companion in the backseat meows.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I apologize to my cat.

He was adopted from the shelter after I learned he had no more time left on his stay. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. My parents would flip if they knew I had an animal for companionship. They’re leading professors at a prestigious university and believe that everything should have a practical purpose. Things exist to be studied and understood, not to bring beauty or joy or companionship.

The GPS unit powers down without warning. The stupid thing has been cutting off on me all day.

I glance at the dashboard, fighting a wave of frustration when I see the temperature gauge is rising again. I splurged on this car a few months ago. I told the salesman I wanted a fast car. Apparently, I should have specified that I also wanted one that works properly.

Still, I might be able to make it into the town. Right now, I’m near mountains. I know from an earlier search online that there are mountains in Courage. So, I have to be close to the area, right?

There’s a hiss, and steam begins pouring from under the hood. I fight back a string of curse words and gently guide the car onto the side of the road. Stupid sports car. Stupid me trying to be whimsical and fun.

“Should have been practical about this,” I mutter as I get out of the vehicle and stare at the steaming mess. That’s what my parents would have told me. That’s what they’ve told me my whole life. If they had it their way, I’d be spending my days in a classroom, instead of doing what makes my heart beat fast, which is writing my dirty romance books.


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