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Leah Barron goes on a trip to Vegas with her best friend, Emelia Allen. While there she meets Evan Pearson, billionaire and CEO of Vortex Security. With his 6’4 frame, dark green eyes, and sculpted body, she can’t resist. They have sex in the powder room of club Nebula in The Aura casino. And they accidentally get married….

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or does it?

Regan Summers is seeking a new life, one that doesn't include Harvard Business School. She likes her life living by the beach in LA. Regan is, by definition, an introvert. She loves to be alone, to collect rare books, and to read. And her dream is to turn her passions into a reality in the form of opening a rare and vintage bookstore in Los Angeles. 

Ellis Houston is the owner of Houston Hotels. He's rich, like, really rich. While he loves his life in Seattle, a crazy ex by the name of Lara Banks is forcing him to leave. LA is not his scene at all. But he's moving there for the foreseeable future to run his latest venture...The Emerald Bay Fantasy Hotel. What he's not expecting is to meet beautiful, shy Regan Summers. Their worlds collide. 

Can they surmount every hurdle and obstacle that the world throws them in order to be together? Or will sins of the past keep them apart? Read the new Sunset Dreams: Breaking Bel-Air Series to find out.  

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Excerpt

Ellis

Living in Seattle has its perks. 

For one thing, the city is always fucking dark. 

I like dark. I crave dark. Dark matches my personality.

I prefer to live life in the trenches, away from the smiling, happy people who do happy people things like go to brunch and spend Christmas with their families.

That’s just not me. 

For one thing, I have no family to speak of, so there’s that. And for another thing, well, I’m not a particularly social person. I don’t do parties. I don’t do clubs. I don’t do a lot of things aside from working a ton. Oh, and fucking. There’s that, of course. I always make time in my schedule to fuck my latest conquest. 

Please don’t even get me started on her. 

Right now, Lara's in the process of hurling things across my penthouse apartment, and it's all I can do to make sure they don't make contact with my face. I happen to like my face. I need my face to look good for business. So, I avoid the vase that's casting through the air at all costs. 

It crashes on the wall directly behind me. 

"I can't believe you're doing this!" she shouts. "You're going to just leave me here in Seattle while you go gallivanting around the world doing god knows what."

I put my hands up in defense. “It’s not exactly gallivanting, Lara. I’m going to LA for work. You know this. We’ve talked about it a million times. I don’t know how much more I can explain it to you. I’ll be gone for three months. That’s it.”

"Yeah, right," she pouts. "You're doing this to leave me. I can tell."

She's right. I am making this move to leave her, but I'd be a fool to tell her that. Fuck no. Lara's the craziest woman I've ever met in my entire life. And, even though the sex is excellent, I'm not about to stay in a bad relationship. No way. No amount of mind-blowing sex is worth that. Right? 

I stare at her tear-stained beautiful face. Damn. Even now, in her state of total demise, I think she's gorgeous. She's got a small body that looks like she could be a dancer even though she's never worked out a day in her life. And that face… She's not classically beautiful, but she has big brown eyes that are framed by long lashes. She keeps her thick hair trimmed in a shortish kind of cut that hits her chin. I like it. That, combined with the short dresses she wears and fishnet stockings that come from Chanel, well, it makes her look like a slutty little ballerina. At least, that's how I refer to her in my fantasies. Sometimes the name escapes my lips in bed when I'm fucking her, and it only spurs her on. She's my slutty little ballerina. But as of late, I’ve come to realize just how crazy Lara is. She may look like the total package on the outside. I mean, hell, her family’s a big name here in Seattle. Her father’s worth a fortune as he’s a big tech tycoon. But I have my own money. I don’t need Lara’s. I don’t need her father’s. And I sure as shit don’t need this relationship. Not anymore. 

I dodge an incoming glass that shatters behind me as I duck out of the way. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to us!” she cries. “After all this time, after everything we’ve been through together, you’re going to leave…”

The truth is, I told Lara I'd be back in Seattle…that this was just a temporary break, but I'm hoping it'll be my way out permanently. I own Houston Hotels, and my business can take me anywhere around the world that I need or want to be. Currently, I have a new project opening up in LA. So, that's where I'm choosing to go. Away from Lara. Away from all this fucking drama. 

“It’s not permanent,” I lie. “I’ll be back before Christmas.”

"No! You hate Christmas, and you hate me!" She's just about to lodge another piece of my crystal glassware towards my head when I decide that I've had about enough of this. 

I walk towards her and easily grab her wrist in my hands. She’s small. I’m big. This should be an easy feat. 

“That’s enough,” I say through gritted teeth. 

“You’re leaving me,” she sobs sadly. 

It’s almost enough to make me feel bad for her, to remember what we have, what we’ve built all these years together. Almost. 

"No. I'm just going away for a while," I remind her. "If our relationship is worth anything, I think we should be able to survive this time apart."

I know, I know. I sound like a fucking coward for not just telling her the truth that I don't want to be together, not anymore. But the last time I even tried to mention separating, she threatened to commit suicide, so here we are. I have to tread lightly as if on thin ice. She's fucking crazy. This is knowledge I've come to realize as of late. I need to get out of this relationship quietly, and before it's too late. 

"No, no, no!" She pounds her fists against my chest, and I stand there like a brick wall just letting her do it. 

We’ve been here before, with all the emotion and all the drama. I’m used to it. I’m used to her. 

But this time, it’ll be different. I’m going to get out. I’m going to start over and have a new beginning. 

With some time apart, Lara will realize that we're not meant to be together. I'll quietly exit her life, and then that'll be it—poof, I'll be gone. At least, that's the fucking hope. 

For now, I let her rage. I let her shout at me. I even fucking hold her. 

Just a few more days, and then I’m moving to LA, where dreams are born. Isn’t that what they say?