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Copyright © 2020 by Lovestruck Romance Publishing.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book is intended for adult readers only.

Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.


Story Description

1. Mel

2. Mac

3. Mel

4. Mac

5. Mel

6. Mac

7. Mel

8. Mac

9. Mel

10. Mel

11. Mac

12. Mel

13. Mac

14. Mel

15. Mac

16. Mel

17. Mac

18. Mel

19. Mac

20. Mel

21. Mac

22. Mac

23. Mel

24. Mac

Epilogue: Mel

Other books from Candace Ayers…

Craved Mate


Candace Ayers

Lovestruck Romance

Melody Manes, the one hit wonder.

Over forty, childless, never been married.

Mel can’t decide which of those epithets is worse.

At least she has a boyfriend...

…to whom she can’t fully commit...

…from whom she needs a vacation.

When she tries to help a stray cat, she lands herself up a tree.

Ironically, Mac, the firefighter who rescues her, sets her panties aflame.

Mel doesn’t know whether to be flirtatious or mortified.

Yes she does.


Definitely mortified.

Mac and Mel can each come up with a hundred reasons

to stay the hell away from each other.

And only one reason not to.

But when it comes to shifter mating.

These two have little choice.

Fate conquers, Love rules.

FREE Book Offer.

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“I don’t like this shit one bit.”

Adam’s Hummer swerved across two lanes of traffic, nearly clipping the front end of a small Toyota as we swung onto the airport exit ramp. The Toyota honked, and Adam hollered a string of curses through the closed driver’s side window.

My knuckles were white as my fingers squeezed the door handle. I prayed we ended up at the airport, not the morgue.

“I just need a vacation, Adam.”

“From singing?” His derisive snort niggled under my skin.

And from snide comments like that. I had a fleeting but delightful image of my leg swinging up and the toe of my boot lodging itself in his throat.

“It isn’t right, Melody.”

Abruptly, he pulled off to the shoulder of the road and brought the SUV to a halt. An angry horn blared. Adam flipped them the bird then turned to face me with the same cross look and negative energy. “It isn’t right for my girlfriend to go traipsing off on a vacation without me.”

A furtive glance at the display on my phone told me I needed to be at the TSA gate in the next ten minutes if I wanted to make my flight. I had no time to placate Adam by listening to another of his sophomoric tantrums.

“It’s not just a vacation, Adam. I wouldn’t be going if not for my job. The band is counting on me.”

Adam shook his head. “No. I won’t allow it. I’m turning around.”

My eyes narrowed. My face contorted into a threatening glower. “Drive, or I’ll get out and walk.”

We stared each another down for several seconds. Finally, after an exasperated and overly dramatic sigh, the SUV shifted into drive and pulled back onto the road, cutting off another driver.

Adam sped toward the departures drop off area—much too fast—and didn’t say another word until his foot slammed hard on the brake pedal, sending me shooting forward with a lurch.

We were at the curb in front of double sliding glass doors where travelers catching domestic flights hugged, kissed, and said their goodbyes to friends and loved ones. Unless they were me. Or Adam.

“You’re fucking someone else, aren’t you?” Neither the harsh words nor the accusation was all that shocking coming from him. Not anymore.

I scowled. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Well, what the hell else would I think, Melody? You’re running off to the Keys for a gig, a week early I might add, without giving a single shit about my feelings. We’ve been together for a year, and you still don’t respect my feelings. Why do I even take this shit from you?”

I don’t know, Adam, why do you take this shit from me?

I searched his face, looking for something. Not quite sure what that “something” was—love, attraction, compassion, connection? Whatever it was, I didn’t find it. I wasn’t even sure who was to blame for the lack in our relationship—him or me.

Feelings of lack and lack of feelings.

I almost laughed as the thought popped into my head. Fortunately, I was able to keep a lid on my giggles. Laughing right now, when all I was trying to do was get out of the car and make my flight, would be counterproductive.

Besides, how could I blame Adam for the hollowness I felt? “There’s no one else. I have a gig and I want a little extra vacation time. This is no different from the weddings, bar mitzvahs, and festivals we usually play. Ingrid and the guys will arrive in a couple of days.”

He reached over and wrapped his fingers around my wrist, squeezing like a vise. “When you get back, we’re moving in together, right? We’re taking this relationship to the next level as we discussed?”

A security guard tapped the window, motioning us along, but Adam merely spared a glance, waved him off, and focused his penetrating gaze back on me.

His grip was borderline painful.

The guard tapped on the window again. Adam ignored him. “I’ve got to go, Adam.”

“I want your answer first.”

The guard tapped yet again and raised his voice. “You need to move along, sir.”

I struggled in Adam’s grip. “Let go of me. I’m going to be late.”

The guard tapped his knuckle

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