Meet the Flynns. Sure, they're alpha-holes but you can't help loving them. Mostly. Dear Chick Who’s Reading This Sh*t, (Or dude. No judgment here.) I’m irritated. The book before this one was supposed to be all about me. Hell, it was named after me, but my asshat baby brother ended up stealing the show. So, this little book is all about me––about me getting my shit together, about me figuring out that Kennedy Corcoran’s my person, and about me working my ass off to convince that same Kennedy Corcoran that I’m her person too. It hasn’t been easy because my woman is stubborn. And bossy. Oh, and dominant. Surprisingly, I’ve discovered the dominant side of my woman is hot as hell. More about that later. So, sit tight and enjoy the ride and don’t expect to hear word one about my little brother. Well, not much anyway. I’m sure he’ll get his nose in my business because he’s a dick like that. I’m out. Ernest Flynn