Billy Jeffers is LIVE plus an EPIC Release Giveaway!


ecover Billy (1)

Billy Jeffers, pianist, never dreamed of being in a rock band, yet he reluctantly agreed to help a friend start one: Steel Total Destruction. Then, at a Miami club one night, the front man was injured and unable to play lead guitar. Therefore, Billy quickly learned and was then thrust into a spotlight he never wanted.

Madison, lead singer Memphis Black’s sassy twenty-year-old sister, left college to work for Forever Four. She has felt an intense attraction toward Billy from the first time she laid eyes on him. She even makes it apparent, but he brushes off every attempt she makes.

When his world starts crumbling apart, the band’s nice guy becomes deliciously bad. Will he use Madison’s attraction toward him to seduce her into keeping her mouth shut? Or will she reveal the secret that could crush the bond Billy has with Steel Total Destruction and Forever Four?

Hearts will be broken, hate f*cks will be had, friendships will be tested, and all hell will break loose.

Are you ready to rock?

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(Contest runs from 3/20 until 3/31. All entries are optional and each option is one entry)


Billy Jeffers Release Giveaway

Read Chapter One NOW!


I never wanted to be part of a band. From age three, I have been a pianist, and I excel at it. Regardless, it was not something I wanted to do as a career. I wanted to run my own business like my father.
I don’t love the stage and all the attention it brings like Memphis does. Music doesn’t live in me, and it’s not necessary to breathe like it is for Finn. I don’t crave the constant party, a warm body in my bed, or the distraction like River does.
Quite frankly, some of the warm bodies I have woken up to after too much partying have almost horrified me. Not because they aren’t attractive, but because, when they open their mouths to speak, I feel like I have lost a few hundred brain cells just from being in their presence.
I am attracted to women who are well-read, educated, and who can hold an intelligent conversation, a woman who dresses nicely and focuses on presentation. I value manners, confidence, and someone who isn’t overtly sexual.
I like women who are not drama because I have it in droves with my bandmates.
Madison Black—our lead singer Memphis’s sister, the travel coordinator for Steel Total Destruction, and in my case, resident cock tease—is drama. She nonstop checks me out, makes sexual innuendos, and acts like a little, spoiled brat when she doesn’t get her way.
I know she has gone through some troubled times—her parents’ divorce and the fact that her father was screwing around with her best friend’s father—but that is no excuse to act outlandish. Memphis and his mother seem to be fine, and she never mentions it, so I just assume that’s her nature.
Madison Black is beautiful—stunning, actually. She is without a doubt sexy. She has an hourglass shape; long, black, perfect waves of hair; and blue eyes framed by thick, black lashes that do nothing but make them shine even more.
If I allow myself the indulgence of watching her bend over a desk, a counter, using any excuse to shove her tight, little peach of an ass in the air whenever I am around, my dick chubs up in the blink of an eye.
She also has a habit of bending over, facing me, whenever I’m in front of her, flashing a peek of whatever lacy, little bra she has cupping her tits that day. I swear she never has the same one on. I wonder if there is a bra of the day club. If there is, there also must be a panty of the day club because, I shit you not, whenever she flashes me a peek, they match.
She makes my life … hard.
I would never fuck a friend’s sister or someone I work with. I would never date a woman who acts like she does. Do I want a woman to let loose in bed? Of course I do. What I don’t want is a woman others view as loose.
She used to pout, sticking out her bottom lip like a petulant child, when I avoided her, but lately, she has switched it all up and become a straight-up, little bitch.
My hands are normally clenched when she is around. I have to fight the urge to send her to the corner, to a time-out chair, or bend her over my knee and spank her ass.
Often, I find myself giving her a ride from whatever party we are attending since I normally am the only sober one. She used to be chatty, so fucking chatty. She would go on and on about music or the parties she went to when she was in college, before quitting and coming to work for Forever Four. Apparently, she and her friends would see how many guys they could make-out with, and whoever won didn’t have to do a damn thing, not even make her bed. And, as Madison Black says, she never lost. She bragged about it! Unreal.
If she wasn’t Memphis’s sister, I would ask her to lift her skirt so I could make sure she is truly a female.
When I started making her use the simplest manners, like “please” when she demanded a ride or “thank you” when I dropped her off, she seemed annoyed, pissed, even bratty. Not that I give a damn, but I would like peace in the workplace.
Over the past few weeks, she stepped up the brattiness and hit straight-up bitch. She glares at me, ignores me, does everything she can to avoid me, and when she and I have to be in the same room together, I can feel her stare at me. When I look toward her, she looks away. Then she has the audacity to wait until I watch for two seconds before she looks at me and rolls her eyes as if I have done something to offend her.
Yes, Madison Black is a spoiled, rotten, manner-less, little bitch whose face I have to stare at every day. Even worse, I have to be nice when others are around. Why? Because I am Billy Jeffers, resident nice guy.
I shake my head as I place the picture we all took together after River’s wedding on the mantle of my new place. I moved out of the beach house and River, Keeana, and their little one now call it home.
I walk out on the balcony and look out over the Atlantic Ocean. I feel a calm that I haven’t felt in the nearly two years since this all began, since right before I graduated college.
I stay outside, taking in the view as I smile to myself, thinking about having the ability to sit on my sofa, watch whatever movie I choose, hold my laptop wide open, and not worry about anyone seeing what I am looking at.
Now that everything is unpacked and in its rightful place, I am going to make myself dinner, play the piano for a bit, and then sit on the sofa and watch a movie. I won’t get these days too often, but when I do, I will relish them.
I walk in and look around. There are no empty cans or bottles, no one is passed out on the couch from last night’s party, and there is no major crisis going on. There is me, myself, and I.
The apartment has an open floor plan. The dining and kitchen area are separated by a large island with four stools so guests can sit and see all the way through the place. It has two bedrooms, three baths, and plenty of peace and quiet.
My phone rings, disrupting that peace and quiet. I look at the screen and see it’s Memphis.
“Hello,” I answer.
“It’s me. I was wondering if, after all these years, you’d like to meet—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I bite out, annoyed.
“—to go over everything. They say—”
“You’re serious right now with the Adele song?”
“Hello from the outside,” he bellows out then laughs. “We’re standing at your door. Tales made you dinner, and Mads brought you a house warming gift.”
I hang up the phone and answer the door.
Tales smiles, holding up a picnic basket as she walks in and kicks her shoes off. Memphis hands me a bottle of scotch, and Madison waltzes past me with a basketful of objects that I can’t quite see since she walks by too fast, but I do smell the cock tease perfume she’s wearing. It’s the kind that makes you want to lean in and smell it just to be able to decipher the scent. Is it floral or a light musk? Maybe a mix between both?
“You coming?” Memphis asks, wearing his signature grin.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” I close the door and turn around, trying to ignore the scent still wafting through the air.
Memphis sits at the island while Tales goes through every cupboard, trying to find the dishes.
I walk over and open the door left of the oven, and she smiles.
“Thanks. Hope you don’t mind us making ourselves at home.”
I may mind, but I certainly wouldn’t say it. I had plans, big plans that included alone time.
“He doesn’t mind,” Memphis says. “Do you, man?”
“Of course not. Let me take your coats.”
Tales shrugs hers off and hands it to me. She then pushes up her sleeves and looks around. “Silverware?”
“Next to the dishwasher,” I answer as I walk over to take Memphis’s vest. Then I walk over to Madison who is standing in the middle of the room, eyeballing my place. “Madison, may I take your jacket?”
She shrugs and unties the red trench coat. “You need some pictures, knickknacks … things.” She points to my empty mantle, and I see her mind working.
“I’m still not fully unpacked.” I am terrified she will offer her design help.
She hands me her coat, her blue eyes looking into mine.
“I’ve got it all under control. No need for—”
“I wasn’t offering,” she huffs quietly before turning and walking over toward Tales. Her face softens, and she smiles. “Tallia, what can I do to help?” With her eyebrow raised, she quickly glances at me.
Little brat.
I hang the coats in the coat closet and turn back around.
“Dinner is ready.” Tales smiles as she sets the plates on the table.
Memphis sets down the basket and pulls out a casserole dish. “Chicken Florentine, Italian bread…” When he pauses and winks, I know he’s up to something.
“Don’t forget the tossed salad.” Tales smiles.
“Baby, I would never forget the delectable tossed salad.”
Her cheeks burn bright red.
“Pig,” Madison says and giggles.
Tallia looks at her, mortified.
I look at Memphis, who is grinning, clearly happy with himself that he has made them both uncomfortable. Yet another difference between me and my bandmates. I would never try to embarrass my woman in public. What happens in the bedroom between lovers is no one else’s business.
“Do you give back?” Madison asks Tales, and I want to send her to the corner, ground her, bend her over my knee, spank her ass, and send her to bed without dinner. It’s inexcusable behavior for the petulant child who is Madison Black.
To distract myself as well as stop myself from acting ungrateful for the meal Tales made, I grab a carafe and fill it with water, then set it on the glass-top dining room table. Then I go back to grab glasses.
I take in a deep breath and attempt to stow the irritation it brings me when I sit next to her, praying she has some table manners. Though, Madison is already sitting in a skirt cross-legged.
I slide my plate toward me and lean back in my chair, shielding my eyes from the deep red strip of silk that’s in contrast to the black skirt that I was pleasantly surprised by when she threw her coat at me. That is, until she sat down and did whatever the hell it is she is doing, blatantly fucking with me.
I take a bite and close my eyes. “Delicious,” I say then look at Tales and check to see if either of them notice Madison’s little display; they don’t. They are always too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else when not at work. “You are a great cook. I appreciate it.”
“Thanks. It was a joint effort.” She nods to Madison, and I look at her.
“You helped?”
What does she do? She looks at me with her eyebrow raised, and I swear she spreads her legs a little more, showing me more of the red, silk panties covering her pussy.
I look up to see she has a shit-eating grin on her face before it changes to a look of annoyance. I look away, hoping like hell her brother or Tales didn’t catch her little public display of inappropriate behavior.
The rest of the dinner is now ruined. I can’t focus on anything except my utter disgust at her and at myself for wanting to scold her ass with my bare fucking hand.
Later, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep, but I can’t. All I can think about is how the hell I am going to get as far away from that little cock tease as possible. She pisses me off, and she does it intentionally.
Fuck her.
Fuck this lifestyle.
I need to make a change … soon.
But first, I have this to deal with.
I throw the covers back and look down, disgusted with myself.
“That’s never gonna happen.” I wrap my hand around my hard dick. “This will have to do.”


It’s Sunday morning, and I have nothing planned. After my post-run shower, I throw on my bathrobe, grab my key from my nightstand, and head to my office.
I unlock then open the door, and my breath almost falters as I look around. On the desk are three computer screens, my computer, and shelves lined with my most prized possessions. My collectibles.
I pull out the leather, overstuffed chair and sink down in it. Then I turn on all the monitors and rub my hands together as I wait for the computer to boot up.
“This is the perfect way to spend a Sunday.”
I stroke the keys on the computer’s keyboard and watch as the screens come to life.
I get a new kind of rush, the ultimate for a man like me. The numbers light up, and I swear I chub up a little.
“Show me how much we’ve made today, baby. Show Daddy what we’ve got.”
After an hour, I am almost satisfied … almost. I decide to move around some money. I even decide to be a little less conservative by taking a chance on some new penny stocks, which is very out of the box for me.
I push back in my chair and spin so I can look at my collection.


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