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Winning the Campaign Manager (MM)

Romance on the Go

Evernight Publishing

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 14,000
Available Formats
PDF
ePub
Mobi

Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Be Warned: m/m sex

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Excerpt

Quentin gulped. He was well aware of what a fantastic opportunity he’d landed in working with Cade Avery, and how good it would be for his career, but he wasn’t at all sure about the idea of telling the man what to do. Quentin had seen him on TV, and he was terrifying. Not only was he almost as wide as he was tall—and that was in muscle and bulk, not fat—he had a formidable personality, too. But then, he reminded himself, that was precisely why Cade needed him, Quentin Rayworth, to be his campaign manager. He needed, to coin an oft-used phrase, to win friends and influence people. And Quentin could help him do exactly that.

Pulling in a deep breath, he stood up and forced a smile past his nerves and onto his face. “Thank you, Mrs. Summers. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Then, hoping he sounded much more confident than he felt, added, “I won’t let you down.”

She nodded. “I know. And I’ve told you, it’s Mary. You make me feel about a hundred years old calling me Mrs. Summers. Now, go get him. Out the door, turn right, and Mr. Avery’s office is second on the left. You can’t go wrong—his name is on the door. Relax, and be yourself. And, most importantly, don’t let him walk all over you. I know he can be a bit intimidating, Quentin, but in this situation, you are the expert. So be confident in your abilities. If he’s difficult, just remind him you’re here to help him. To make sure he wins this campaign. And, if he gets to be too much, just come and tell me.” She tipped him a playful wink. “I’ll sort him out for you.”

“Okay.” Quentin nodded. He huffed out a breath, then bent and picked up his bag, slipping the strap over his shoulder. Straightening, he smiled again, and this time it came with much less effort. “Thank you, Mrs—Mary. For the advice and, well, everything.”

Returning the smile, she reached out and gave him a gentle shove towards the door. “You already said that, sweetheart. Stop stalling. Delaying isn’t going to make him any less scary.”

Biting his lip, he strode towards the still-open door and straight through it. Turning, he closed it—flashing a grin at Mary through the glass after doing so—then reminded himself of her instructions to find Cade Avery’s office. Turn right, and Mr. Avery’s office is second on the left.

It wasn’t far at all, and Quentin couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, it didn’t give him much time to build up his courage. But on the other, it also gave him less time to get even more nervous. Not that it mattered whether he was feeling courageous or nervous—he had a job to do, and Cade was expecting him, imminently. It wouldn’t do to keep him waiting.

Peering at the silver name plaque, Quentin assured himself he was at the correct door. Needlessly fidgeting with the strap on his bag, he raised his other hand and knocked on the smooth wood.

The response was instant. “Come in!”

Cade Avery’s voice was deep and commanding—apparently even more powerful in real life than on the TV—and all of a sudden, Quentin’s palms were as damp as his mouth was dry. Gulping hard, and frantically wiping his hands on his trousers, he opened the door. Fixing a smile on his face, he walked in and closed the door behind him. “Mr. Avery. I’m Quentin Rayworth—pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” The man’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he was polite nonetheless. Gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk to his, he said, “Please, come and sit down, Mr. Rayworth. According to Mary, we have an awful lot to discuss.”

With a quick nod, Quentin closed the space between them, taking the opportunity to have a good look at the other man. He currently stood by the window, affording Quentin a pretty impressive view. Since the first time he’d seen him on TV, as well as being intimidated by him, he’d found Cade Avery impossibly attractive. He ticked all of Quentin’s boxes, and he was sure if he looked up “alpha male” in the dictionary, Cade’s photograph would be there right next to the definition. Even in the few seconds he’d been in the same room as him, it was apparent that Cade oozed masculinity. More than his fair share, in fact—he’d probably make Hugh Jackman or Chris Hemsworth look like mere mortals—even in their superhero guises. Probably just as well he’d never find out—being in close proximity to those three at once would likely cause him to melt into a puddle of lust. Just one of them was already sending his hormones into overdrive.

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