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⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4.6) 33 Reviews

Shop exclusive covers and titles for three billionaire romantic comedies.

(Published on other retailers as Billionaires Don't Go To Camp, My Secret Billionaire Landlord, and The Billionaire and the Grad Student, or The Love Project. )


"This is a funny story, and will make you laugh and cry!!! It’s a definite Read!!!!"--Donna, 5-star review

She catches him speeding through a school zone. What will happen when he's sentenced to work at her camp?

Arrogant tech billionaire Elliott Bracken has a reputation for lucky breaks. That streak ends when Clara Easton, the owner of a struggling non-profit for at-risk teens, captures a video of him speeding through a school zone. If Elliott is sure of one thing it's that everyone can be bought, including rule-follower Clara.Although his offer and his charm tempts her, Clara Easton is determined to teach her kids that you can't buy your way out of a problem even if you're a billionaire. When the judge orders Elliott to volunteer one hundred and twenty hours at Clara's camp, she's horrified--the last thing she needs is an entitled jerk around her campers! Are his overt gifts an attempt to bribe his way out of service or is he really having a change of heart?

  • enemies to lovers
  • forced proximity
  • brash billionaire

--Billionaires Don't Date Camp Directors

Intro to Chapter 1

Clara Easton hated driving the dilapidated white van around Austin with the words Happy Camp spray painted on the side. It felt like driving one of those kidnapper vans. Only hers had windows, four bench-rows of rowdy teenagers, and plenty of seatbelts.

“Buckle up in the Happy Bus,” she called from the driver’s seat waiting for the after-school car line to get out of the parking lot. “You know this van doesn’t go on the big roads until everyone is safe.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. 
Kiva bent over the seat behind him, and his pants didn’t quite cover his boxers—purple ones, with pineapples.

Clara shook her head. “Kiva. Get buckled.”

Turning around, he opened his arms and brushed the hairnet covering his head, his bright white teeth gleaming. “What? I am.”

She squinted into the rearview mirror. “When I say buckled, I mean over you, not under you.” Inching the car forward, she was almost to the intersection out of the high school. “I mean it. I will turn this thing around.” She totally bluffed. Making any kind of turn in this beast was a pain in the tailgate.

“Oh man!” Kiva rolled his eyes and stood to retrieve his belt from underneath him. “You got me.” He flashed her a semi-smile.

Owen punched his shoulder. “I told you you wouldn’t get away with it. Captain Clara has eyes in the back of her head.”

“That’s right.” She inched the car forward, smiling at her nickname. Counting the cars, she felt a throbbing start at the base of her neck from the music blasting from the back seat. Finally, it was their turn at the intersection. Clara glanced up and down the street to make a left turn. Cars came from both sides in a constant stream. “Man, we have a lot of traffic today.”

Kiva shrugged. “It is the last day of school. What did you expect?”
The low school zone speed limit didn’t help the traffic—just stretched it out. Clara bit her lip. “We might be here a while, guys.”

“I reject the masculine term for us all.” Marian sat in the front seat.

“I’ll just use the Southern collective, y’all, then.” Clara sneaked a peek in the rearview mirror to make sure no more shenanigans happened behind her back. “Hey, do me a favor and look up the fastest way to get to camp.”

With traffic this bad, she might need an alternate route. She tossed Marian her phone. Marian held the phone close to her face like a lifeline; her many rings on her fingers flashed as she scrolled. 
 The central Texas sun already beat down at the end of May.

Clara squinted from the glare, wishing for sunglasses. “All right. Everybody ready? Here’s a break in the stream of cars.” She needed to stomp pretty hard on the gas to get the momentum for this crazy bus to cross four lanes of traffic.

At last, only one car remained on the road. After that, she could go. Could she make it? The car seemed to be coming awfully fast from her right.

“Holy cow! Do you see that car?” Dante lifted his phone.

An orange sports car headed toward them. The thing hugged the road, yet it hummed and moved with precision.

The sounds of seatbelts unbuckling and clanking echoed in the cabin, and a rush of teenagers flew to the right side where Dante pointed, all of them with their phones out and recording. 
Clara feared the van would tip over. She wouldn’t be driving anywhere soon. Shaking her head, she dropped open her mouth.

“Sick ride.” Kiva whistled.

“He’s going fast.” Dante’s phone followed the sports car.
The orange car blew past the intersection, rocking the van. 
“Lawbreaker,” Clara murmured under her breath. She despised seeing adults being disrespectful to and in front of school kids. “Take a picture of his license plate—2KOL4U.” Clara snorted. “Oh, no you don’t,” she said under her breath, imagining speaking aloud to the driver. “You can’t ignore a school zone just because you drive a fancy car.”

Kiva slapped a hand over his mouth. “Man, he blew through that twenty-mile-an-hour school zone like he was on a freeway.”

Owen shook his head. “Did you see that? He was easily going sixty, if not more.”

“I got it all on video.” Marian blinked.

Clara turned. “On my phone?”

Marian nodded.
Owen pushed up his glasses. “Let’s post it on social media. Bust this guy’s a—”
“Don’t say it.” Shaking his head, Kiva elbowed Owen.
Owen rolled his eyes. “I forgot. Captain Clara doesn’t like swear words.”

Clara nodded. “Thanks, y’all. Now let’s get back into our seatbelts. We’ve got a forty-five-minute drive ahead of us.”

A chorus of groans followed.
Once they were all buckled, Clara edged out into the intersection and turned left. 
A few blocks down, a police car sat, parked on the side of the road with its lights flashing. The orange hot rod sat motionless in front of it.

“He was caught!” With a giant grin, Clara wanted to get a good look at the careless driver. She slowed her van past the scene—slower than the required twenty-five miles an hour. She couldn’t contain her glee.

“I don’t know why you assumed it was a man.” Marian held the phone up.

The police officer got out of her car, a knot of blonde hair swirled in a bun on the back of her head. She bent over the small window, pointing back to the intersection. 

“Well, the officer is a woman.” Clara took only short glances to keep her gaze on the road. 
The driver stuck out his head from the window, motioning as if he was surprised the officer pulled him over. He was young, all right. And had a nice profile. Yes, he was quite good looking. They were all the same, these types. They always thought their good looks and money would get them out of all their trouble. Sighing, Clara shook her head.

Did the officer smile at him? Oh, man! He was going to get away with this infraction. Clara passed the sports car, glancing in the rearview mirror for confirmation. 
Marian lowered the device. “These types of guys just pay their way out of any negative consequences.”

“Is that what you guys think?” Clara asked.

Owen nodded. “Happens all the time—rich guys never have to obey laws. They never have to pay the consequences of their actions.”

“Not this time.” Clara sped up. “What do you guys think about Owen’s idea of posting the video on my Insta-chat?”

Opening his eyes wide, Kiva covered his mouth with his hands. “Captain Clara, you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Clara set her jaw. “He shouldn’t get away with speeding through a school zone. Students could’ve gotten hurt.”

Marian furrowed her brows and clicked on a few things on the screen. “I uploaded the video to your account. What should we say?”

“Maybe something like, anybody know who this is?” Clara tapped the steering wheel. “He sped through our school zone.”

Marian’s thumbs flew over the phone.
 “All right. Done. And posted.” She sat back and smiled, tossing the phone into Clara’s bag. “Oh, and take the back way. It’s mostly clear.”

Clara nodded and headed toward the less crowded roads. “I don’t expect much to come of the post.” She drove the van on smaller Farm to Market roads that kept her off the I-35 running through town. She sure wished a furor would come of their social media post. Everyone with money seemed to assume they could do whatever they wanted. She shook her head. “All right settle in. We’ve got a long drive.”

Students slipped earbuds into their ears. She experienced a quiet rest of the trip. When she parked at Happy Camp in Bastrop, she got out to stretch her legs.
“Last call for any kind of Internet access. Send any last texts, watch that last video, and like that last post. Farther in, all your social media disappears until the end of summer. Well, at least until Thursday when I take you home.” She liked taking the kids out here in the scented loblolly for a break from their lives, a break from the Internet, and a chance to gain a set of new skills.

Dante held up his phone. “What the ice?
“Ten points to Dante for the creative swear!”
He kept focused on his phone. “You have over sixty-five thousand views on your video, Captain Clara.”

“What?” Clara cocked her head to watch the video on his phone. “In forty-five minutes?”

Kiva showed her his phone. “They’ve identified the driver. Elliott Bracken, a tech billionaire in Austin. He’ll get off Scot-free.”

“Why was he driving through our ’hood?” Searching the Internet for Elliott Bracken, Clara scrolled the accompanying pictures of the law-breaking billionaire. One with a hot woman, wearing little more than a bathing suit—and they were not on the beach or at the pool—curled around his arm. He looked like the type of guy who never paid for anything, especially not for the consequences of his actions. In another picture, he was with a different woman, both wearing evening wear. The lawbreaker certainly looked good in a tux. Clearing her throat, she returned the phone, raising her eyebrows. “Let’s hope the officer won’t let him off so easily.” She would make sure of it!

Books included in the bundle

  • Billionaires Don't Date Camp Directors
  • Billionaires Don't Date Grad Students
  • Billionaires Don't Date Their Tenants

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