That’s what people call me… Growing up with the last name Comfort meant that I’d inherited a legacy. In our small town, the older generation of Comfort men were known for three things: hard work, boozing, and tragedy. Some believed the latter was due to a curse that doomed every male in our bloodline to lose his true love tragically. I was of the mind that our fates were in our own hands.
With my father’s passing, my brothers and I were the new generation of Comfort men. We were also known for three things: fighting, flirting, and another F word that I’d never use in mixed company. My oldest brother was the fighter, my baby brother was the flirt, and that left me. I’d earned the nickname Panty Dropper by the time I was legally allowed to drink.
It never bothered me much, until the day I laid eyes on a woman that made me want to be a better man. The only question was, would she see the real me, or would my past and the curse be too much…even for fate?
Reagan “Runaway Bride” York
That’s what people were calling me… Growing up with a single mom who cared more about her next boyfriend than things like paying the electric bill, I was determined to create a stable, respectable life for myself as an adult. And that’s exactly what I’d thought I’d done. I shared a condo overlooking Central Park with my fiancé, who was on the fast track to making partner at the law firm where we were both associates. And which just happened to be owned by his father.
Cut to me walking in on the man I was going to marry, just weeks before our wedding, with his briefs–and I’m not talking about the legal kind–down around his ankles.
Oh, and did I mention the pricey penthouse we shared was a gift from his parents? Talk about putting all my eggs in the wrong basket.
In the blink of an eye, I found myself homeless, jobless, and ringless.
My “fresh start” landed me in a small town, where the nights are hot and the men are hotter. Soon, I found my reputation and job were on the line once again…but this time, I had a feeling it might just be worth it.
Author’s Note: His Southern Comfort (previously published as Panty Dropper) is a lust-at-first-sight, charismatic bad boy MMC, runaway bride FMC, reluctant rebound, steamy small town, contemporary romance.
