Sloan Riley Novels & Stories

"I don't care about some petty thief! I want to know where Inspector Sloane is, right now!" Sharpe flinched at the volume of it, but he squared his shoulders and kept insisting. "Sir, you can rest completely easy! Someone from the corporate office tipped me off privately yesterday—I paid good money to find out. Inspector Sloane is a retired military man in his forties. He's five-foot-eleven."

Lillie knew she could never compete with the beauty of the young maiden. Lillie named her plantation Slaughter Hill for a reason. She called Jennifer on the telephone and stated, “Paul is my lover. Leave him alone or you will face the wrath of a scorn woman.” Jennifer responded by saying, “He loves me and doesn’t want you anymore.” Lillie realized that now this would require more spells to be cast. She would never just walkway and let another woman have her lover. Jennifer worked at the Art Gallery in the center of town. The gallery was known for displaying and selling art by aspiring artist. Lillie walked into the Gallery with a painting she wanted to be displayed. The painting was a beauti

"Ellie? How are you?" "Great. And you?" "I'm fine. How are your parents?" "They're great. Just my mom has been a bit tense lately." "Oh, let me introduce my friend. Lisa, this is Ellie, my boss's sister. Ellie, Lisa Dickens, my best friend." "Hello Ellie, nice to meet you," Lisa greets her. "The pleasure is mine." "So, you mentioned that Mrs. Ryan has been tense? Is she okay?" Ellie sighs. "Yeah. It's just that she hasn't given up on trying to get Nat back with his ex, and she's forcing me to help her with that mission." My stomach churns. "I think you met Mia at dinner, right?"

Chander's sudden interruption brought her back. "Miss Hila, let me help you take care of the other eleven." She didn't feel light headed or drunk anymore. "Why would you help me? You are in no position to gain anything from their deaths and if you are, just shut it and consider yourself lucky that your competition just got lower." She took off the robe and was left covered by a tiny sleeveless navy blue dress that barely covered even half her thighs. The pair of linen dolphin shorts of the same color loosely swayed as she moved towards him.

Something else. A glimmer of satisfaction? A glimmer of perilous satisfaction? I couldn't tell but it felt strangely freeing. The door creaked open as I was thinking about the enormous task of finding my shirt and my shattered dignity. I gasped. With a tentative almost bashful smile on his lips, Sloan stood with a tray full of what appeared to be an entire feast. His chest was still bare and he was wearing dark low-slung sweatpants. His skin had a slight sheen of sweat as though he had just finished working out. His damp hair fell across his forehead in a way that gave him a disheveled endearing rogue appearance rather than the intimidating CEO.

Ryan break this pictu- My eyes get terrifically wide as I see the playboy swimsuit calendar on his table. The girl in the bikini is Kelly Clawford, the model I slept with last week. Is he into girls? Is he straight? I ask myself. My wolf is swimming in jealousy, envying the calendar bikini girl. Ryan, tear this calendar and that dog's picture, break all the computers and tables. Dakota screams in my head. "I have an extra if you like it this much." I knew who said that because my heartbeats instantly fasten hearing his smug voice. I turn my head, glaring at my mate. Does this human even know who I am?

They all hoped that this would not be needed, but it was better to be prepared. Darryl Sloan was seething after the phone call from his right hand man, Graham Tory. The idiot had gotten himself arrested in a little country bumpkin village in the middle of nowhere. How could he be so stupid! This was not good for Sloan's reputation. He had to deal with it personally if he was to hang on to his position as the Big Boss.