Big Girls & Bad Boys: 8 Scorching Hot BBW Alpha Male Romance Novellas Box Set

by D. H. Cameron

  D. H. Cameron

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

  Presents...

  Big Girls & Bad Boys

  8 Scorching Hot BBW Alpha Male Romance Novellas Box Set

  Visit me at: cameronromance.com

  To stay up to date on new releases, promotions and giveaways, sign up for the Cameron Romance Newsletter (Never any spam, promise!!)

  >>O<<

  Table of Contents

  Also From D. H. Cameron

  Softail Curves

  Santa Cruz Curves

  Pitching Curves

  Sapphic Curves

  Rock & Roll Curves

  Fearless Curves

  Havana Curves

  Curves on the Range

  The Future of Cameron Publishing

  >>O<<

  Also from D. H. Cameron...

  Rock Hard - The Novel

  (By the way, if your reader doesn’t support links, copy and paste the links provided into your browser www.amazon.com/dp/B00IA9LQCY)

  Simone is a small town girl in the big city, an assistant at a Los Angeles talent agency and one of its most famous clients isn’t happy.

  James is the sexy lead singer and rhythm guitarist for Battery, one of the world hottest heavy metal bands and he can’t take his eyes off of his agent’s new assistant.

  Join James and Simone as they fight together to save Battery and their love. Love, envy, bliss, famous friends, ruthless villains and a whole lot of torrid passion await the pair in Rock Hard - The Novel.

  Please enjoy this excerpt from the 90,000 word, 4.5 star rated Rock Hard - The Novel:

  “What?” James shouted back.

  “Is this Battery?!” I shouted again. James looked at me again as if he didn’t hear so I asked one more time. “Is this…,” I began to yell, enunciating each syllable, only to have James turn off the stereo leaving me yelling, “…Battery?” in a silent cab. Nice! I was thankful he shut the noise off and I repeated at normal volume, “Is this Battery?”

  “I heard you. I just can’t believe you don’t know Battery when you hear it,” he said.

  “Sorry, I don’t like that heavy metal stuff,” I said.

  “What do you listen to? No, let me guess. Brittney Spears and Katie Perry? Please don’t say Cold Play,” James said as an exaggerated grimace crossed his face.

  “Yeah, so what?” was my response.

  “Fuck! My new agent listens to bubble gum pop and doesn’t even know what my music sounds like? We’re going to have to indoctrinate you and quick,” he replied.

  “No thanks. I can’t handle that noise,” I replied a little miffed that James seemed to be making fun of my taste in music.

  “Noise? Really? Wow, thanks! You know how to make a client feel special,” he replied in mock pain. I rolled my eyes and remembered why I didn’t like guys like James. He huffed and turned the stereo on again, but this time he found a song that I actually kind of liked. It was still raw, with a pounding beat and distorted guitars but it was slower and melodic and he didn’t have it on nearly as loud.

  “Is this Battery?” I asked and now James rolled his eyes.

  “Yes!” he replied seemingly annoyed. “You really don’t know my music?” he added.

  “I’ve probably heard it but I know I don’t like it. Besides, you picked me. You put me in this situation. If I needed to know your music by heart, you should have asked,” I retorted, my temper flaring as James implied this was somehow my problem.

  “You’re right. Truce,” he said as we pulled into the parking lot of a fancy steakhouse. I nodded and a valet helped me down the steps that appeared as he opened the door. I didn’t recognize the name of the place, but then again, I didn’t spend too much time in West Hollywood on my salary.

  “Miss Navarro,” the valet said helping me from the cab. How did he know my name?

  “Thank you,” I said as James joined me. James tossed the keys at the valet, a young man maybe just out of high school, probably a university student. He looked like he’d be more comfortable on a surfboard than the dress shirt and slacks he wore. The valet caught the keys and his excitement was palpable.

  “Take care of my baby, kid,” James said referring to his truck and then handed the valet a hundred dollar bill.

  “Thanks, James. I saved the back corner of the lot for you and nothing will get anywhere near your baby. I swear,” the young man replied as if he knew James. Again, I admit I was impressed. What girl wouldn’t be? No matter how abrasive or uncouth James could be, seeing a man with the power he apparently had was kind of arousing. We went inside and the same thing happened. The hostess, a blonde of maybe thirty in a crisp white blouse, short skirt, tights and heels, all in black, approached James as if she knew him.

  “Monica! Looking good,” James exclaimed, gave the woman a big hug and lifted her from the floor.

  “James, nice to see you,” she greeted us after the big hug and then added, “Nice to meet you, Miss Navarro,” and extended her hand.

  “Thank you,” I said, shaking the woman’s hand and feeling like some kind of movie star or something. What the heck was going on? She sat us in a private room near the back of the main dining room. Just James and I seated at a table big enough for a dozen people, James at the head and me to his left. Still the room had an intimate feel. The walls were dark wood with several pieces of modern art hanging on the walls, a fireplace with a small log burning and a single guitar in a glass case. I lingered on the guitar for a moment wondering why a place like this would have a guitar as decor.

  “That belonged to a friend. He was killed in a plane crash traveling to a show. His wife gave it to me,” James remarked seeing my interest.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Again, James showed a softer, sentimental side like when he pet his truck proudly.

  “Shit happens and life goes on,” James mused as if he didn’t want to dwell. We read over the menus in silence until Monica returned to take our order. I ordered a petite filet and James ordered a bone-in ribeye steak. James took control of the rest of the order, however.

  “A heaping side of mac and cheese, grilled mushrooms and uh…how about some of the sweet potato fries,” he told Monica. I found the side dishes odd for such an upscale restaurant. Mac and cheese? Really?

  “Drinks?” she asked.

  “I’ll take a Coke. What about you, Simone?” James asked me. I expected him to get a beer or maybe a cocktail, but then I remembered Peter telling me he was a recovering alcoholic.

  “Just water with lemon,” I said. I wasn’t much of a drinker anyway.

  “You sure?” James asked.

  “Yes, thanks,” I replied. He shrugged and Monica left us. I assumed he came here a lot because they all knew him. I was still surprised they knew me. They took us immediately to this private room and so I guessed he had made reservations and told them my name. Nevertheless, I was flattered by the thoughtfulness.

  “You know, you could have ordered some wine or something,” James offered. I wasn’t sure if he was just telling me it was an option or if it was his way of letting me know I could drink even if he didn’t. Then he added, “You’re paying after all.”

  “What?” I asked. I was paying? I guess I was the agent and he was the client. That’s how it was usually done. The agent usually bought for the clients. Peter told me it used to be a rule when Samuel Roland was alive but Victoria had abolished it to save money. However, it never occurred to me since James had asked me out.

  “Fraulein Vicky gave you an exp
ense account, didn’t she? I’m guessing that’s a no by the look on your face. Well, I’m sure you can submit the receipt and get reimbursed or something,” James told me. I saw the prices on the menu and my credit card might be able to withstand the bill. Maybe. I know James could tell I wasn’t prepared for this, probably because the blood drained from my face. “Problem?” he asked.

  “No, I…um…,” I stammered as he began to laugh. I frowned as he seemed to take delight in my dilemma but James was just laughing at his own joke as it turned out.

  “Don’t sweat it. You really don’t know anything about me, do you?” he asked. My frown turned to confusion.

  “I know a little. I know what Peter told me,” I said in my defense though it was pretty weak.

  “Well, Pete didn’t tell you much. I own this place. Dinner’s on me, little girl. I thought you might have figured it out when I told you about the guitar or when everyone knew my name or when I ordered my favorite sides from the menu I helped design. But you wouldn’t know that would you?” he mocked and laughed again. I suppose I should have guessed but still I didn’t like him laughing at me.

  “You’re kind of an ass, you know that,” I said. He had me squirming pretty good and he could have just told me he owned the restaurant. Was he trying to piss me off or just keep me off balance?

  “Mmm, there’s the fire I like,” James said with a smoldering look in his eyes that sent tingles straight to my core.

  “Do you enjoy teasing me to get me angry?” I asked tersely ignoring the excitement between my thighs. His face went serious as he hooked his leather boot around the leg of my chair and slid it across the tile floor towards him. I grabbed the seat to keep from tumbling to the floor. James leaned close and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

  “I’m going to enjoy so much more than teasing you,” he said in a low whisper as his hand found my bare knee and worked its way under the hem of my skirt. I sighed despite myself as this man, this agonizing, abrasive man, touched me and I suddenly wanted him never to stop. His hand squeezed my inner thigh, just short of my panties, and he kissed me ever so softly. For a moment, there was nothing but his lips and his hand but after the initial shock wore off, my defenses kicked in.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked as I pulled away and pushed his hand from my leg. I wanted him to kiss me again and touch more than my thigh but I was scared. I’d never felt the way I did as he touched me. My heart felt as if it might beat right out of my chest and my panties were surely soaked. James laughed softly.

  “Yeah, I do like your fiery side. You come off as some innocent farm girl from the sticks but I know there’s more inside. I can sense you’re just aching to let loose and I’m the man that’s going to set you free, little girl,” he said as he pushed my chair away to where it belonged. I was pissed or turned on beyond belief, I wasn’t sure which.

  “I’m not some groupie. You can’t just assume I’m going to jump into bed with you. I’m not attracted to men like you. I’m not some whore that will just peel her clothes off and submit to the egomaniac rock star. And stop calling me little girl,” I replied as sternly as I could muster but every word was a lie. Against my nature, contrary to everything I believed about myself, I wanted nothing more than to be nude for James and let him have his way with me. I was dying to let loose and do things with James I’d never even dared to dream of before. I did want to be his whore and do anything he asked. Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready for that and it was as if James could read my mind.

  “You’re not ready...not yet. Nevertheless, inside you’re all those things. I can see past your prim and proper exterior. I’m going to bring out your wild side, little girl. Mark my words,” he said ignoring my request and everything else that I’d said. I was hot, flushed and my breathing was fast and ragged. I wanted it to be anger. I wanted to hate him, to slap his face and walk out of the restaurant. However, it wasn’t anger and I didn’t leave. Thankfully, the chef walked in and I never had to find out if I had any self-control left at my disposal.

  Rock Hard - The Novel

  (www.amazon.com/dp/B00IA9LQCY)

  >>O<<

  Wolf’s Run

  Cassie’s sleepy little town is about to become a whole lot more interesting. Wolf’s Run, a motorcycle gathering, is coming back to town. Drunken bikers, half naked women, rock concerts and wet t-shirt contests will soon take over the town of Gold Canyon. But Cassie couldn’t care less. She just needs the business to keep her diner’s doors open and keep her mom’s dream alive.

  There’s more to Wolf’s Run, however, that meets the eye. The gathering dredges up old feuds and Cassie finds herself smack dab in the middle. Dolan, the big, mean, leather clad biker, has it in for her and she doesn’t know why. Yeager, the tall, amber-eyed biker, seems bent on protecting her and when he tells her the reason, Cassie can hardly believe it.

  Cassie comes to believe it when Dolan attacks her and reveals what he really is. Now Cassie has no choice but to believe Yeager’s claims that men really can turn into wolves. But Yeager isn’t just any shifter. He claims Cassie is his mate and whisks her off to safety where Yeager reveals all. But Dolan isn’t finished with Cassie and the man that claims to be a wolf and her mate. Can Cassie accept what she already knows in her heart is the truth? Will she embrace her fate and fulfill her destiny or will old feuds destroy everything?

  Wolf’s Run and its sequels, Wolf’s Bane and Wolf’s Pack, are shifter romance with an edge. Packed with fated romance, torrid shifter sex, wild adventure and more than a few surprises, you won’t be disappointed...especially since Wolf’s Run is available for FREE!!

  Wolf’s Run

  (www.amazon.com/dp/B00IA9LMF0)

  Wolf’s Bane

  (www.amazon.com/dp/B00K01WUZW)

  Wolf’s Pack

  (www.amazon.com/dp/B00LOUAJ5Q)

  >>O<<

  Back to the Beginning

  Softail Curves

  “Oh my lord, you have to be kidding,” Becky said and I followed her gaze. It was Saturday night and Becky and I were out drinking and hoping to meet Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right Now. So far, we were striking out and it looked as if that trend would continue as I located the guy Becky had spotted heading our way. Was this guy for real?

  As Mr. American Chopper approached, I saw Becky roll her eyes. He looked like he just walked off the set of Easy Rider, wearing an American flag bandana that held his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes. The cliché didn’t stop there, however. He wore a black t-shirt with a half-naked girl on a chopper emblazoned on the front, blue jeans under leather chaps and scuffed leather boots. A heavy chain draped from his fat leather belt to his back pocket, keeping his wallet safe I suppose. Tattoos, mostly of motorcycles, skulls and naked women, covered his arms. However, it was his eyes that caught my attention.

  Sure, he was a walking stereotype but his blue eyes told me there was more to this guy than his look might suggest. For a moment, I wondered if he was a real biker or an orthodontist playing dress up for the weekend but something told me this guy was the real deal. He sauntered up to our table, looked Becky up and down then turned to me. His eyes swept up and down my curvy body hungrily. Apparently, deciding I was his preferred target, he turned his back to Becky.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. I glanced at Becky and she was scowling at this guy, obviously not happy at being ignored even though I was sure she would have shut him down in any case.

  “Shauna,” I said dismissively. He looked me over again and I suddenly felt self-conscience. I was out hoping to attract the opposite sex and dressed for it. My sleeveless white dress left my ample cleavage and thighs exposed. The dress flattered my round, curvy body but I still didn’t like it when a guy looked too closely. And this guy was all but undressing me with his eyes.

  “My brothers call me Dutch but you can call me daddy,” he said. I wanted to laugh but he was completely serious and the edge to his voice told me he meant it. Behind him, Becky laughed.
>
  “Oh my lord! Really?” she said but Dutch only ignored her. He was making me uncomfortable but not in a scary way. It was the way my body reacted to his words that frightened me. My breathing quickened, I felt hot suddenly and my pussy tingled. This guy wasn’t even close to being my type but my body begged to differ.

  “I’m not really interested, Dutch,” I said gently, hoping he would take the hint and leave. I should have known better.

  “Yes, you are. I can see it. I can smell it on you. I’ll be over there when you figure that out,” he said and walked away. I watched him go, his tight ass, wrapped in that old denim, begging me to dig my nails into his flesh. I shook my head and looked at Becky.

  “What a creep!” she said and cringed dramatically. I nodded in agreement. I guess he was creepy. However, if he was, why was I so turned on? Why was I suddenly imagining him pounding me senseless as his hands dug into my lush curves? I shook the image from my head and decided, yes, he was a creep. I almost believed it too.

  “Did you see how he raped us with his eyes?” I said trying to convince Becky I was as disgusted as she was, or was I trying to convince myself?

  “No kidding. I need a shower,” Becky joked and I laughed. I slammed the rest of my white wine to calm myself and asked Becky if she wanted another. I already knew the answer. I stood and grabbed her empty glass before she even answered. “Of course,” she told me.

  “I’ll go get us refills, you watch the table,” I told Becky. The club was crowded and tables were at a premium. This wasn’t a biker bar and I wondered what Dutch and his friends were doing here. They didn’t fit in but they didn’t seem to care.

  “OK, I’ll keep an eye on you to make sure Peter Fonda Jr. doesn’t attack you,” Becky said and I laughed but I think she was serious.

  “He’s harmless,” I said but I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t think he was dangerous but I doubted he was harmless.

  “Yeah, right,” Becky replied. I rolled my eyes at her and went to the bar picking my way through the dense crowd. I set the empty wine glasses on the bar and attempted to look needy. I’d have showed off my deep cleavage, but two of the bartenders were women and the third was likely gay. Too bad, even though I was big, guys seemed to forget about it when they saw my generous boobs. Suddenly, one of the bartenders set a glass of white wine in front of me without me having to ask. I wondered why she only brought one.