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Once Upon A Half-Time 2(91)

By:Sosie Frost




Find out what happened after Lindsey and Brice’s wedding that nearly tore Nate and Mandy apart…





Bad Boy’s Revenge





Synopsis:


Andrew Maddox is the reason the small community of Saint Christie locks their doors at night. The tattooed bad boy lives on the wrong side of the tracks…when he isn’t behind bars.



It was easy to fall for the sexy trouble-maker, and we once planned to start a new life and family together. But when a fire destroyed my family's candy shop, Maddox saved my life…only to be convicted for the arson.



He spent a year in prison, and now he's out. Maddox wants me, and he's determined to make the baby I promised him.



But the real arsonist still threatens us. The only way we’ll survive is if I can prove Maddox’s innocence and bring the criminal to justice.



Before the man I love loses his life to revenge.





Bad Boy’s Revenge

Copyright © 2016 by Sosie Frost

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.



This 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, or actual events is purely coincidental.



This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.





Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations

http://mayhemcovercreations.com/





Created with Vellum





To L.G.

Bad boys, bad boys…whatcha gonna do?





1





Josie





Maybe I was crazy, but the vacant property still smelled an awful lot like burnt sugar.

I never liked the smell, especially since it was a sign something went super wrong in the kitchen. Those were the days I’d stay late, break out the chisels, and chip away chunks of blackened sugar. Life in a candy shop and bakery created one sticky disaster after another, but I had loved it, even when the chocolates seized or the soufflés deflated.

The fire didn’t leave me many candy-making opportunities. Those cookies crumbled a year ago, and I was still sweeping up the mess.

But I swore a smoky scent remained. It wasn’t caramel sweetness or the accidental drip of cake batter in the oven. This was acrid, tacky, and charred. It must have been in my head. Nothing remained of the ashes, fire, or ungodly amounts of sugar the flames consumed.

We had cleared the rubble a year ago, once the state fire marshal completed his report. Sweet Nibbles, my family’s historical bakery and candy shop, was gone. Completely. We had only memories now, though the night of the fire was still a hazy nightmare that trapped my thoughts in the smoke.

A weed poked through the hard-cracked dirt, right where my walk-in refrigerator used to sit. I plucked it, scaring the whiskers off a little mouse surveying my property too. At least he stayed outside permanently now—I lost enough bags of sugar to the greedy little furballs. I never had the heart to kill them, effectively enabling the first generation of diabetic mice in the small town of Saint Christie.

A discarded coffee cup from Anne’s Beans rolled over the grass, and I grabbed it before the mouse dove inside to get his fix. If the property was all I had anymore, I couldn’t let it look unsightly. My family was too proud for that.

At least…we were before.

“Heya, Josie!” Benjamin Ducacas’s voice bellowed over the street. “Good to see you in your old stomping grounds!”

I waved at Benjamin and subtly checked my phone. After five already? That meant Benjamin closed his hardware shop to become the unofficial town-crier. Soon enough, everyone within earshot would know I visited my property.

Benjamin shuffled closer to the lot as he walked—showcased—his prized standard poodle for the town to admire. Or avoid. Probably avoid. The puffed up prize-winner had a bite worse than his owner.

Benjamin was a bit too curious for his own good. “Breaking ground yet?”

I rattled the empty coffee cup. “Got some grounds at least.”

He wagged a finger at me, but I was lucky. He couldn’t delay his nightly walk with Jean-Baptise. Benjamin insisted on a brisk, full-hour of exercise to benefit the poodle’s waistline. The training regimen was strict to qualify the dog for the state championship show…though Jean-Baptise’s preferred path always seemed to lead Benjamin right to Tyler’s burger stand.