Showing posts with label Casey Peeler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Casey Peeler. Show all posts
Colby by Casey Peeler
Colby Drake is Mr. Fix It and likes to take things into his own hands. Working in Aunt Tootie's shop, Dixie is always taking matters into her own hands, and Colby is determined to solve all her problems regardless of whether she wants the help or not. But she's no damsel in distress looking to be saved.
The moment the door to the store flies open, it takes all of two seconds to see that ginger walk back in here like she’s done a minimum of two times a week since she arrived into town three months ago. Dixie is a spitfire with hair to match, emerald eyes, and is fucking independent as hell.
“Mornin’, Colby. I got a leak at the shop. Can you tell me if you’ve got one of these?” she says as she tosses the spray hose on the counter. Looking at it, it’s an easy fix, and I know I’ve got the Belvedere hose that should easily fix it.
“Yeah, come on. It’s on aisle three.”
“Thank goodness! How the hell am I going to shampoo hair without a freaking sprayer?”
“You could use a cup,” I say as I try to refrain from laughing.
Rolling her eyes, she places her hands on her hips. Shit. Here it comes. “Drake, you listen. I will not have folks getting shampooed with a freaking cup. This ain’t some five-dollar mall beauty parlor. I’ve got a good thing going, but damn, every time I turn around something’s falling apart.”
“Mornin’, Colby. I got a leak at the shop. Can you tell me if you’ve got one of these?” she says as she tosses the spray hose on the counter. Looking at it, it’s an easy fix, and I know I’ve got the Belvedere hose that should easily fix it.
“Yeah, come on. It’s on aisle three.”
“Thank goodness! How the hell am I going to shampoo hair without a freaking sprayer?”
“You could use a cup,” I say as I try to refrain from laughing.
Rolling her eyes, she places her hands on her hips. Shit. Here it comes. “Drake, you listen. I will not have folks getting shampooed with a freaking cup. This ain’t some five-dollar mall beauty parlor. I’ve got a good thing going, but damn, every time I turn around something’s falling apart.”
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Connect with Casey
Jeremiah by Casey Peeler
Jeremiah Drake is good with his hands, and has taken on the responsibility of Mayes' Body Shop. However, when a badass beauty named Landry is put in charge of the shop, Jeremiah is caught off guard by her beauty, but more importantly how she is under the hood.
Chapter 1
Jeremiah
With the sound of the small metal bell clanging against the glass door, I glance up from underneath the Chevy Impala I’m changing the oil in. Looking to it, I do a double-take as a blonde with long, flowing hair like an ocean walks in and smiles my direction. Her jeans are painted on, with a tight-fitting black tank top and curves that would make every man’s dick hard. She doesn’t say a word; instead, she walks toward Mr. Mayes’ office and closes the door. What the fuck is going on? Who the hell does she think she is and why is she in that office?
As soon as the last few drops have escaped, I place the oil plug back in place and change out the filter before lowering it from the lift. Once its four wheels hit the concrete, I take off the cap and fill it with the golden liquid. Taking the dip stick, I check it once more and turn the engine to make sure all the lights are off. Killing the engine, I glance over my shoulder to Davis.
“I’m gonna go see who the fuck that was walkin’ in Mr. Mayes’ office,” I say to him as I wipe my hands on the rag and toss it on the work table. Standing outside his office door, I see the same blonde sitting behind his dusty desk with a look of disgust on her face. Quickly, I knock on the door. She pauses and looks up. Without waiting for a reply, I turn the knob and walk in.
“Ma’am, is there something I can help ya with?” I question, trying my best to be polite.
She looks at me, rolls her eyes, and basically tells me to fuck off without opening her mouth, and all that has me wanting to do is turn her over my damn knee and spank her nice little ass.
“Excuse me?” she says with an abundance of attitude.
“I said can I help you? Mr. Mayes isn’t here, so maybe I can help you with what you need.”
She begins to laugh and it pisses me off.
“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock! He’s in the hospital and I’m here to take care of things until he’s able to return.” What the hell did she say? I’ve been here since I was sixteen years old and he’s been priming me to take over the day he calls it quits. He’s left me in charge and I’ll be damned if a little girl comes in here acting all high and mighty wanting to take over.
“Ma’am,” I say cautiously once more, knowing I really want to cuss this bitch out. “I’m in charge while he’s out. What can I help you with?”
“Like hell you are, Jeremiah.” The way she says my name makes me pause. How the hell does she know my name?
“Why’s this the first I’ve heard of it? I just saw him yesterday.”
“Hell if I know, but whatever. Look, I’m here to handle the books, but I don’t mind helping out on the floor.”
“On the floor? What the hell does a pretty girl like you know about that?”
The look on her face goes blank as she slides back out of the worn green leather chair. She places her hands on the desk and looks me directly in the eyes as my legs press up against the old worn couch.
“I know plenty. Now, question my ass again about what I do and don’t know about this shop and I’ll show you who’s fuckin’ boss. Got that?”
Standing there, I look at her, speechless. I’ve heard of feisty women. I vaguely remember a woman with a mouth that got her slapped around as a kid, but I also remember a mom who took us in, didn’t take shit from anyone, but had the kindest heart. Something about her makes me want to climb over that desk and kiss the hell out of her until she screams my damn name, then it hits me.
“Landry?” I question.
“Damn right, it’s me.”
Landry
The moment that office door opens, I try my best to refrain from letting my mouth drop to the floor as I look at the hottest thing I’ve seen since sliced bread. It’s Jeremiah Drake, the youngest Drake brother. He’s tall, dark, handsome, and a grease monkey. It’s like music to my ears.
Growing up, I learned how to do anything and everything in this shop. I remember Jeremiah as I kid, but he never noticed me. I was a girl that was a few years younger, off limits, and a tomboy. Who am I kidding? No guy around here paid any attention to me so I focused on what I loved most—Paw and cars. My summers were spent in this shop, his old barn and out at the creek.
“You going back to work or you gonna gawk all fuckin’ day?” I ask.
The way he cuts his eyes toward me makes my damn panties want to drop. “I’m goin’ back to work. Look, I’m not sure what the deal is, but I was told I was in charge. I don’t mind you hanging around and looking pretty, but this place is no place for a girl.”
Without thinking twice, I begin to laugh at his comment. He might think that I can’t handle myself on the floor, but I learned from the best and I refuse to let the best down.
$10 Amazon Gift Card
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Connect with Casey
Jeremiah by Casey Peeler
Jeremiah Drake is good with his hands, and has taken on the responsibility of Mayes' Body Shop. However, when a badass beauty named Landry is put in charge of the shop, Jeremiah is caught off guard by her beauty, but more importantly how she is under the hood.
“I’m gonna go see who the fuck that was walkin’ in Mr. Mayes’ office,” I say to him as I wipe my hands on the rag and toss it on the work table. Standing outside his office door, I see the same blonde sitting behind his dusty desk with a look of disgust on her face. Quickly, I knock on the door. She pauses and looks up. Without waiting for a reply, I turn the knob and walk in.
“Ma’am, is there something I can help ya with?” I question, trying my best to be polite.
She looks at me, rolls her eyes, and basically tells me to fuck off without opening her mouth, and all that has me wanting to do is turn her over my damn knee and spank her nice little ass.
“Excuse me?” she says with an abundance of attitude.
“I said can I help you? Mr. Mayes isn’t here, so maybe I can help you with what you need.”
She begins to laugh and it pisses me off.
“Ma’am, is there something I can help ya with?” I question, trying my best to be polite.
She looks at me, rolls her eyes, and basically tells me to fuck off without opening her mouth, and all that has me wanting to do is turn her over my damn knee and spank her nice little ass.
“Excuse me?” she says with an abundance of attitude.
“I said can I help you? Mr. Mayes isn’t here, so maybe I can help you with what you need.”
She begins to laugh and it pisses me off.
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Connect with Casey
Everett by Casey Peeler
Everett Drake left the small town life and his three brothers behind the day he was old enough to enlist. However, he returned sooner than he had planned with a chip on his shoulder.
Taking a job with the local beer distributor, he makes a living, but when a new bar owner arrives in town, he knows exactly what he wants—Stella.
Taking a job with the local beer distributor, he makes a living, but when a new bar owner arrives in town, he knows exactly what he wants—Stella.
Pulling into Barger’s, the sun is shining and so is Seth’s brand new Camaro. Shaking my head, I put the Dodge in park and step toward my future as a beer truck comes barreling out the back entrance, almost running me over. Turning to see who’s driving, I put my hands on my hips and see dark hair and a set of emerald green eyes on the sexiest man I’ve ever seen and when he smiles my way, I try to act mad but it’s no use. Mental note—stay away from whoever that is.
“Sorry about that, ma’am,” he hollers out the window.
“Damn right, you better be,” I say firmly as he laughs, gives a wave and takes off down the two-lane road.
“Sorry about that, ma’am,” he hollers out the window.
“Damn right, you better be,” I say firmly as he laughs, gives a wave and takes off down the two-lane road.
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Connect with Casey
Tutus & Cowboy Boots by Casey Peeler
Cadence Lewis has been dancing since she could walk. Living in New York with her parents she has the chance to go to the best dance school in the country, but when her father does the unthinkable she’s forced to leave her dreams behind and move to a small southern town with her mom.
Cadence is having a hard time adjusting to her new life when she meets Jade Carpenter. Jade begins to show Cadence that small-town life isn’t so bad, but when Cadence has a chance to go back to New York she is on the next flight and will do anything to get her old life back.
As the bell rings for the end of the day, I stand and take my time walking from class because let's face it, who wants to have everyone know you drive that clonker? When I’m almost to the door frame, I’m met by Jade.
“Hey, Cadence, right?” she says.
I look her direction. “Yup. That’s me,” I say with a fake smile. Why can’t these people leave me alone?
“Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jade,” she says as she walks beside me.
“Yeah. I got that from what’s her face.” I toss my head back toward the classroom.
She giggles. “You’re funny.”
I crinkle my nose. I’ve never been called funny before. “Why’s that?” I question.
“’Cause you just called Ms. Luckadoo what’s her face and not to mention you look like you’re about to run the catwalk at fashion week. You do realize where you are?”
“Well, I couldn’t remember her name and I live for fashion. It's obvious people around here do not feel the same way.”
“Oh they do, but it’s a different kind.”
“What do you mean?”
Jade takes a moment to gather her thoughts. “Okay, let me give you the run down.” I can’t wait to hear this. “Most girls around here are up on the latest southern preppy trends from either Simply Southern, Southern Charm, and Southern Fried Chics. Every girl here owns boots to work in as well as boots to go out in. Jack Rogers are a must and we monogram everything.”
“Are you serious? You monogram everything?”
“Yeah. Just look around.” I do and notice every backpack as well as vehicle has initials on them. What the hell? “Oh and don’t forget the more glitter, the better.”
“That’s insane. Are people afraid they are going to forget their names or something?” I say smartly.
“Nope, it’s just a southern thang,” she says with a deep southern drawl. “See,” she says as she shows me her car. Oh gosh, she’s one, too.
“So, tell me more about Lawndale High?” I ask.
“Well, there’s not much to say. I mean, it’s school. The guys here are your typical country boys. They drive trucks and miss a lot of days the first day of the season.”
“Why would they miss school on the first day of Autumn?” I question.
“Hey, Cadence, right?” she says.
I look her direction. “Yup. That’s me,” I say with a fake smile. Why can’t these people leave me alone?
“Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jade,” she says as she walks beside me.
“Yeah. I got that from what’s her face.” I toss my head back toward the classroom.
She giggles. “You’re funny.”
I crinkle my nose. I’ve never been called funny before. “Why’s that?” I question.
“’Cause you just called Ms. Luckadoo what’s her face and not to mention you look like you’re about to run the catwalk at fashion week. You do realize where you are?”
“Well, I couldn’t remember her name and I live for fashion. It's obvious people around here do not feel the same way.”
“Oh they do, but it’s a different kind.”
“What do you mean?”
Jade takes a moment to gather her thoughts. “Okay, let me give you the run down.” I can’t wait to hear this. “Most girls around here are up on the latest southern preppy trends from either Simply Southern, Southern Charm, and Southern Fried Chics. Every girl here owns boots to work in as well as boots to go out in. Jack Rogers are a must and we monogram everything.”
“Are you serious? You monogram everything?”
“Yeah. Just look around.” I do and notice every backpack as well as vehicle has initials on them. What the hell? “Oh and don’t forget the more glitter, the better.”
“That’s insane. Are people afraid they are going to forget their names or something?” I say smartly.
“Nope, it’s just a southern thang,” she says with a deep southern drawl. “See,” she says as she shows me her car. Oh gosh, she’s one, too.
“So, tell me more about Lawndale High?” I ask.
“Well, there’s not much to say. I mean, it’s school. The guys here are your typical country boys. They drive trucks and miss a lot of days the first day of the season.”
“Why would they miss school on the first day of Autumn?” I question.
“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Um, yeah. The first season to occur while in school is Autumn.”
She starts to shake her head. “Girl, you’ve got a lot to learn around here. Let me spell it out for you. Bambi, big bucks, big boy toys, trophies on the wall, and food in your belly.”
“Um, yeah. The first season to occur while in school is Autumn.”
She starts to shake her head. “Girl, you’ve got a lot to learn around here. Let me spell it out for you. Bambi, big bucks, big boy toys, trophies on the wall, and food in your belly.”
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Growing up Casey wasn't an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks' novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn't writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Connect with Casey
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