Alternate cover edition for ASIN: B00GM25IAC. I'm Haley Whitfield, and I recently had the ingenious idea to enlist my mother, Allison, as my kick\*ss sidekick and set out on a road trip. This road trip wasn't to be just any road trip, but a very special one indeed. An adventure with an acutely specific purpose - to find our other halves. The peanut butter to our jelly. The i to our Phone. The stripper to our pole. If our romantic desires were a personal ad, they would read something like this: \\ Two sassy women (Ages twenty-seven and forty-nine respectively - Ouch. Okay, ages twenty-seven and thirty - with nineteen years experience - respectively) seeking Alpha Males to love us with zeal and kiss us with skill. Gorgeous face and sexy, tattooed, hard body a must. If you aren't a dangerous bad\ss with the x-rated skills and virility to match, don't bother. Must be willing to protect us from danger, value our quirkiness, and keep your mouth shut when said quirkiness is what leads to said danger. Momma's boys named Dan Smith need not apply.\\* I know. It's a bit wordy. In fact, it would probably cost a fortune. Luckily, we're not ready for the personal ad. We're not that desperate... yet. This is my story. Warning: Some explicit language and sexual content.

I’m Dan Smith, and I’m currently living two lives. Maybe even three if you really look into it. Haley, Allison, Hunter, Wade, Sergio, and Isla all exist in one or more of them somehow. Am I a supporting role in their stories, or are they merely characters in mine? You decide. Haley told her story. Now I’ll tell mine. She said. He said. This is my story. Warning: Some explicit language and sexual content. Note: This IS a full length novel at ~75,700 words. It is just slightly longer than A is for Alpha Male.

Fifteen seconds to remember everything. Already an impossible task, the encroaching haze made it tougher. Fifteen years spent making it on my own. Fourteen days of freedom. Thirteen years since my parents died. Twelve nights of heaven. Eleven Ten Nine Eight Seven Six Five Four people who’d give anything. Three tries to get it right. Two hearts to mend. One chance in sight. Nearly fifty years of evidence had me willing to wager no one had ever laughed or cried harder than I had. But this story wasn’t just mine. It was ours.