Full version of Second Edition available on Amazon and via Kindle Unlimited. Chris Sinclair fades under a dark cloud after losing his mother to cancer. On the cusp of adulthood, he doesn't know where he should go or how to get there. But watching life pass him by was never the plan, and when he is forced to attend a concert in an attempt to coax him out of his shell, he discovers that life might have more to offer. Dante Heron holds the audience between his delicate bow and the tips of his fingers. He plays the violin as if every heart is his to command, but the discipline needed to perfect his skills has left him with nothing to spare. He's a fire that burns too bright or not at all-unpredictable and demanding. When Chris is unexpectedly offered a job to travel around Europe as Dante's assistant, or 'friend', he surprises himself by accepting. Their journey barely starts before Chris realizes he's in over his head. Every step along the way is fraught with tension, and the farther they go, the closer they veer to a breaking point. Invisible strings are at play, stitched into Dante's life by those who should have taught him how to love. Perhaps Chris is right to be afraid, but sometimes, what you fear the most is what you can't afford to lose.

[This is a spin-off of The DILF but can be read as a stand-alone] [The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.] There was nothing Ophelia wanted better than to gouge Nikolai's long-lashed, consuming blue eyes out with a butter knife and mail them to the rest of the Alvonich family. Too bad they were in a very public, very esteemed place - Mikhail's wedding. "You don't think I'll press the button?" Nikolai's breath was warm and teasing in her ear. Ophelia had no idea what possessed her to take up his challenge of a vibrating thong, except that it was too late to back out now. She turned to glance at the infuriating man beside her. "Honestly, I don't care. It won't affect me." "Sweet Ophelia," he whispered, surprising her by flicking his tongue into her ear. Jumping, she glared at him, ignoring the important guests at her table, her father included. Before she could curse at Nikolai, he pressed the button, the swearwords turning to soft moans under her breath. Gripping the edge of the table, Ophelia felt the attack on her cl!t like a burn to her skin. Her father shot her a concerned look from across the table and Nikolai's voice was again in her ear. "Before the end of the night, Ophelia, we will f**k," he promised, releasing his finger from the remote control. "Only this time, it will be my name you scream."