The Man with 2 Clubs – The Shape of Love Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)

Welcome to the Isle of Deux where the men have not one, but TWO massive clubs hanging below their belts! How can this be? Read and see!

My parents are awful people. They want me to marry me off to some dude in rehab, so I went on a long hike to clear my mind.
But I came upon a secluded island …
And to my surprise, it’s populated by a community of gorgeous alpha males who all have TWO huge tools!
Who are these guys?
Where did they come from???

Against all odds, a random girl stumbled upon our hidden island. WTF? How the hell did that happen?
Nonetheless, we can’t let Amy go without being punished.
She’s going to be offered up as a sacrifice …
On an altar …

This is a follow-up to Carl and Chloe’s tale in The Lumberjack with 2 Rods. Can you believe the premise of these stories? The Isle of Deux is named “Deux” because you guessed it – the inhabitants are handsome brutes with peculiar anatomy that promises DOUBLE the pleasure for the curvy girls they tame! Break out your life jackets because you’ll need them to stay afloat during this wild ride! Even better, there’s a whirlwind wedding at the end where the totally unexpected happens. As always, my stories are standalones and do not need to be read in order. HEA guaranteed.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I schlep downstairs for breakfast, still dressed in rumpled PJs with my red curls corkscrewing out in every direction. It’s morning. What do people expect?

But to my surprise, my parents are already at the table, looking perfectly polished while sipping their coffee. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate Andrew and Amity because their hard work puts a roof over our heads, and food on the table. My parents are realtors in the St. George area, and they lead the Ryan Team. Supposedly they’ve been in the Gold Circle at their brokerage for the last five years, and are aiming for Platinum next.

But sometimes, I wonder how I can be related to these people. Whereas Amity and Andrew are always dressed to the nines, I’m often wearing an old t-shirt and raggedy jeans. Whereas my mom always has a mask of make-up on, I can’t be bothered to add even a swipe of lipstick. Whereas both of my parents have degrees from the local community college, I chose to end my educational endeavors after graduating from high school. Enough was enough, and that path had come to a terminal point.

But it’s not like I’m lazy or unproductive. In fact, up until recently, I was working full-time at the local McDonald’s. Maybe it’s not the most prestigious job out there, but I was okay with it. I enjoyed my co-workers, and we had a lot of fun playing with the soft serve machine and eating fries at all hours. There were a lot of debates over whether McChicken or Filet-o-Fish sandwiches are better, and I have to say that Team McChicken always wins.

But my parents weren’t happy about the job, and it’s not for the reasons you think. They didn’t care that I was flipping burgers and mopping floors. They didn’t care that the pay is low, with no real chance of advancement. No, Amity and Andrew were concerned that one of their friends or clients would see me at Mickey D’s. They were embarrassed that I’d stooped to such work, and didn’t want anyone to know. It’s like I’m their dirty secret, and a blemish on their perfect lives. Everything would be so perfect if I just didn’t exist. Plus, I think the befuddlement goes both ways. Just like I don’t understand how they’re my parents, Andrew and Amity can hardly believe that they conceived a daughter like me: unruly, unpolished, and their complete opposite.

I grimace. Well, maybe their DNA just didn’t match in the ways they expected. As I look over their sharply-dressed forms at the breakfast table, my shoulders slump. Other than the red hair that all three of us share, there’s really no thread of commonality among us.

“Morning,” I mutter while creeping into the kitchen. I make my way to the counter to pour some cereal into a bowl.

My mom looks up, seemingly startled at my presence.

“Amy!” she exclaims. “Goodness, what happened to you?”

I know my hair’s a rat’s nest, and I force myself to breathe deep to maintain my composure while my back’s turned to her. Then, I turn around with my bowl in hand and sit down at the table with a smile.

“My hair’s a little messy, but I’ll comb it after breakfast,” I say in a chipper voice. “There’s no one to see.”

“Well, your father and I can see,” Amity says, staring at me like I’m the ugliest woman she’s ever beheld. “And you have a crease on your cheek from your pillow! Are you using those satin pillowcases I bought for you? I swear, Amy. You’re going to end up looking middle-aged before your time.”