The Braddock Boys: Brent. Kimberly Raye

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The Braddock Boys: Brent - Kimberly Raye Mills & Boon Blaze

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      The Braddock

      Boys: Brent

      Kimberly Raye

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      This book is dedicated to my mother.

      Sometimes when life doesn’t turn out as planned,

      the only thing we can do is hang on for the ride.

      I know it’s been bumpy, but keep

      hanging on for me,

      I love you!

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Copyright

      1

      BRENT BRADDOCK HAD NEVER been the type of man to beat around the bush when it came to something he wanted. He was straightforward. Determined. Persistent.

      One hundred and fifty years as a vampire who fed off both blood and sex hadn’t changed him much.

      While the average bloodsucker tried to curb the lust with a little roll in the hay, Brent preferred going straight for the jugular, no pun intended.

      Not that he didn’t like sex.

      He loved it, and he sure as shootin’ fired off a round whenever possible. Once upon a time, he’d been one of the fastest guns in the Confederacy and the most precise. Now he called himself a bodyguard and offered his skills to the highest bidder, which meant he spent a great deal of time in the big cities.

      New York. Chicago. L.A. Prime hunting ground when it came to getting down and dirty. He could fall into bed with the prettiest filly around and never run the risk of seeing her again.

      But this was small town central.

      If he bedded a woman tonight, he was sure to bump into her again and again before he said goodbye to this map dot. While she might not remember him thanks to his vamp mojo, he would remember her. Worse, she would become more than a face. And that he didn’t like.

      He didn’t want to know that she’d been voted Most Popular back in high school or that her dad owned the local feed store or that she went to the VFW Hall every Thursday night for spaghetti dinner. He didn’t want to know her, period.

      Knowing made it harder to turn his back and walk away.

      And Brent Braddock always walked

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