To my family and friends, thanks for all the support
and love that youâve given me.
To my editor, Evette Porter, for helping me through one crazy year. To my wonderful fans and readers, thank you for allowing me to do what I do. Itâs always a pleasure to entertain you.
I wish you all the best of love.
The House of Kings series
Many of you have followed the Unforgettable series, which morphed into the Hinton Brothers series. Now Iâm introducing you to the Hintonsâ playboy bachelor cousinsâthe Kings.
Eamon, Xavier and Jeremy along with their infamous cousin Quentin Hinton are business partners in a gentlemenâs club franchise called The Doll House. One of their most popular and lucrative specialties is their bachelor party services. And with clubs in Atlanta, Las Vegas and Los Angeles, the brothers are determined to make sure their clientsâ last night of bachelorhood is one that theyâll never forget.
In Kingâs Passion, Eamon, the eldest brother, books a high-end client, Marcus Henderson, for an over-the-top, bachelor-party extravaganza. According to the best man, thereâs to be no expense spared for this wild night. Even Eamon gets caught up in the excitement. But things take a detour when the groom-to-be gets so plastered that he ends up marrying one of the hired strippers. When the dust clears and the alcohol wears off, Eamon has another headache to contend withâthe angry ex-bride-to-be, Victoria Gregory.
Next month, look for the second title in the House of Kings series, Kingâs Promise, featuring Eamonâs brother Xavier King. And in August, read the final book in the trilogy, Kingâs Pleasure, featuring Jeremy King.
Remember, in love, never bet against a King.â¦
Adrianne
Quentin Dewayne Hinton was at a crossroads. Actually, heâd been there for quite some time. The hard part had been admitting it. Once upon a time, his father had told him that âpride was the bane of all men.â If anyone knew that, it would be his father. Roger Hinton was a proud man who ran his family like a corporation. His God was the Dow Jones, and his heart and soul belonged to the numbers in his bank account.
Chuckling at his analogy, Q climbed out of his black Mercedes and gave the parking deck a casual glance from behind his Oliver Peoples sunglasses. He slid his hand into the pants pocket of his gray, tailored Italian suit while he opened the glass door to the high-rise building with his other hand. Though he was nervous about this meeting, one would never know it by his confident stride through the Peachtree Tower. Inside the massive, ornate lobby, Quentin kept his focus straight ahead toward the brass elevator doors.
As luck would have it, a very tall and very beautiful woman stepped into the compartment behind him as he pushed the button for the thirty-third floor. As usual, he started his inspection from the feet up. Pretty toes, nice ankles, firm calves. So far, everything had his imaginary dog tail wagging. Amazing legs, slim waistâby the time he made it to the womanâs long neck, he was turning toward her ready to spit his best pick-up line.
But then the image of Alyssa Hintonâs face smiled.
Quentin jumped back.
âYou know it never would have worked between us,â she said.
âWhat?â He blinked and then snatched off his shades.
âAre you okay?â the beautiful woman who was not Alyssa asked, frowning at him.
Quentin quickly glanced around the small compartment and saw that they were the only two people in the elevator.
âSir?â The womanâs brows dipped in concern and suspicion. âYou look like you just saw a ghost.â
âIâ¦uh.â He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. âI guess I was awed by your beauty.â
The womanâs expression clearly reflected that she wasnât buying his answer and she inched closer to the corner of the elevator car.
Q didnât blame her. He rubbed his eyes and slid his sunglasses back on just as the elevator arrived on his floor. He tossed the woman another quick smile but then rushed out of the small compartment.
Pull yourself together, man.
He squared his shoulders again and marched toward suite thirty-three hundred. Once in the quiet office, he felt another wave of relief to see the lobby was empty.
âMay I help you?â the receptionist asked from behind the counter.
Q approached the girl-next-door ebony cutie with a smile. âYes. Iâm here to see Dr. Turner.â
âName?â
âQuentin Hinton.â
The woman looked down and ran her finger over a column of names in her appointment book. âAh. Here you are. If you can just sign in for me here.â She handed over a clipboard.