Men of Endurance Limited Edition Collection Read online

  Men of Endurance

  Limited Edition Collection

  Siera London

  Contents

  The

  Also by Siera London

  The MEN OF ENDURANCE

  Endurance, California

  Included in this collection is:

  STAYING THE COURSE

  BY

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  GOING THE DISTANCE

  BY

  Untitled

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  A Return To Endurance

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  All Out of Love

  All Out of Love

  Welcome Back

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Second Chance Christmas

  Second Chance Christmas

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Afterword

  CHASING AVA: A BACHELOR OF SHELL COVE NOVEL

  Ch. 1

  Note from Siera London

  Siera London’s Enduring Christmas

  Enduring Christmas

  Also by Siera London

  About the Author

  Siera’s Contact Information

  The

  Limited Edition Collection

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Siera London

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, are entirely a coincidence.

  The Men of Endurance Limited Edition Collection © 2019 Siera London, Katrina Pringle

  Editors: Gayla Leath & V. Vee

  Cover: Cover by Combs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Siera London Books, 6137 Lincolnia Road, P.O. Box 11033, Alexandria, VA 22312.

  Created with Vellum

  Also by Siera London

  The Bachelors of Shell Cove Series

  Chasing Ava

  Convincing Lina

  Catching Rebecca

  Claiming Janna

  A Second Chance Christmas

  Messy Mandy Presents: The Lunchtime Chronicles

  Whipped

  Thick Cut

  The Fiery Fairy Tales Series

  Chasing Flames

  Concealing Fire

  Commanding Heat

  The Forbidden Series

  Forbidden Distraction

  Forbidden Attraction

  The Kelvinian Warriors

  Cindra: A Paranormal Cinderella Tale

  Detective MaKenzie Young Novel

  The Last File

  The MEN OF ENDURANCE

  OLIVIA GAINES – SIERA LONDON LITERARY COLLABORATION

  Endurance, California

  Included in this collection is:

  Staying The Course

  Going The Distance

  Siera’s Welcome Back to Endurance

  All Out of Love

  Second Chance Christmas

  STAYING THE COURSE

  STAYING THE COURSE

  The Men Of Endurance

  Copyright © 2018 K. PRINGLE

  Edited by Gayla Leath, Dark Dreams Editing

  First Edition, June 2018

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Certain real locations are mentioned, however all names, characters, events and incidents described in this book are fictitious or a product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased is entirely coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  All trademarks, service marks, registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the current U.S. Copyright Act With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form in whole or in part by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without written permission from the author, Siera London.

  This is a work of fiction. Certain real locations are mentioned, however, all names, characters, events and incidents described in this book are used fictitiously or a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  BY

  SIERA LONDON

  STAYING THE COURSE

  The Men of Endurance

  Thank you to my friend and fellow author, Olivia Gaines for dreaming up this serial romance about single fathers. Olivia gave me free rein to create this beautiful town called Endurance and fill it with all the beauty of small town life and rich friendships. The town of Endurance is based on the city of Auburn, California, the endurance sports capital of the United States. Throughout each book in the Men Of Endurance series you’ll discover fun facts about Auburn and the rich history of Placer County. If you’re new to this story world, be sure to read A Walk Through Endurance, where Abel Burney and Julie Kratzner will introduce you to this town called Endurance.

  To all my faithful readers, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You make this journey worthwhile. This book is dedicated to Carolyn D. Your little sister girlfriend loves you.

  Blessings Romancelandia, Siera

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Ivy Summer’s poor choices have deposited her at the last knot in the proverbial rope. With forty dollars to her name and a broken shoe heel, she walks into the town of Endurance desperate and searching for a way back home. But this street-savvy lady is used to taking care of herself and fighting for everything she has. She'll do what’s necessary to survive—even take on a grumpy mountain man in the middle of the night.

  Single father, Owen Tate wants to be left alone, especially by the sexy trespasser who demands entry into his bar. She has a truckload of attitude, a penchant for manipulation, and a ton of baggage trailing behind her. Yet Ivy’s zeal for life might be the kick in the pants a wounded man needs to bury the past.

  How will two people used to staying the course change direction and learn to fight for each other?

  Chapter 1

  The exclamation point at the end of Ivy Summers’ streak of bad luck came three hours before midnight on a deserted stretch of California’s Interstate 80.

  How’s about we do a little excha
nge, a ride for a ride.

  Another gust of crisp wind slammed into her plastering her lightweight shirt against her chest. Battling the punishing cold was a small price compared to giving Ralph the Trucker a ride. With fingers stiff from the cold, she barely managed to hold onto her tattered backpack and gather the edges of her peeling second-hand leather jacket. The material felt smooth under her fingertips, the natural texture worn thin from wear and tear. Where was all this chill factor when the scorching June heat had melted the glob of school glue holding the heel of her combat boot in place? Though she’d been doing the stinky leg walk for miles, and her right calf ached from the uneven gait, the shoe fix took a back seat to her empty belly.

  In the immediate future, she needed food, a crackling fire to drive the chill from her bones, and a quiet place to lay her head. Well, she could sleep on a theme park roller coaster at this point. When morning came, the first order of business would be a job, one that asked a short list of personal background questions and paid in long green cash. She’d stick around a few days to earn enough money to keep it moving east… back to Shell Cove, Florida.

  With every step, Ivy fought the urge to collapse under the weight of yet another bad decision. Following Johnny to California had been a mistake. Running from his brother Poe had been a calculated risk.

  “Stay the course,” she whispered. The mantra was a remnant of her time at the Second Chance women’s shelter back in Shell Cove. “You can do it.”

  The warm light of civilization came into view, and Ivy breathed out a sigh of relief. Hungry, tired, and cold, she limped into the town of Endurance, California, population 1,333 per the marquee. Her late-night interstate stroll had been at least four miles. Yet, she’d netted a big fat zero on the relief scale; zero all-night diners, zero truck stops, zero convenience stores, and zero motels. Either she’d stepped into the twilight zone, or the township had endured in the land that time forgot.

  Ivy took a right off of Miramar Boulevard passing a fancy museum that housed the public library. At the town’s center, a very regal looking City Hall building with a marble portico and an intricate pediment sat next to the sheriff’s office, and then she came to a crossroads. How appropriate. She was at a crossroads with a lot of things in her life. She had a choice to make. Either she could go straight ahead onto Saratoga Springs or venture a little farther off the straight and narrow and take Miller Road. Would her destination hold more closed doors and dead ends?

  From the intersection, the end of Saratoga Springs Road stared back at her. All of sudden, a sedan zoomed by, kicking up a cloud of road dust and pebbles.

  “Hey,” she railed, shielding her face with both hands, as she jumped out of the way. “Watch out, nut tart,” she shouted to the vehicle’s twin red lights. Coughing, she waved away the suffocating dirt swirl as the car disappeared from sight. Not wanting a close encounter of the deadly kind, she decided to avoid the road altogether.

  “Alrighty then, Miller Road it is.”

  There was Bee-Bee’s bookstore. The quaint teal-colored stucco building had a neon sign shaped like a nineteen fifties coffee cup resting on a saucer. This was definitely a throwback town. Everyone knew coffee came in sixteen ounce tall cups. The street was locked down tighter than a pill bottle in a nursing home. She wondered if this bargain bin Smallville even had a hotel, motel, or an Endurance Town Inn.

  Prepared to give up and turn back, Ivy warmed when she saw a faint red glow coming from the far end of the street. Dragging her sore limbs forward, she approached the place with caution. There were velvet curtains at the two giant windows, the kind you might see at a fine restaurant known for patron privacy. The sign overhead the building read No Limit Bar and Grille. Looking back over her shoulder at the darkened street, she smirked. The town of Endurance definitely had a limit that probably didn’t welcome wanderers like her. Ivy reached for the door handle and gave it a firm tug.

  Nothing happened.

  Giving it more muscle, Ivy gripped the faded wood, curling the fingers of both hands around the lever and yanked. On uneven heels, the added force and momentum had her wobbling on exhausted legs.

  Still nothing.

  Ivy felt the tears swell in her eyes. Don’t cry. But, a familiar burn started in her nostrils, and then she felt the traitorous things flare in frustration. Dang it, she was going to cry. All of a sudden, the door flew open. Before she knew it, her body was in motion, flying backwards, and her behind hit the cobblestone road, hard.

  “Crap,” she grumbled, followed by a few choice swear words as she sat on the ground, contemplating her misfortune. It seemed she had an invisible bad luck symbol etched on her forehead.

  A guy, all blonde haired with steel blue eyes glared down at her, his height imposing from this position. She tried to stop her eyes from taking a walk up his impressive form. Cowboy boots, darkened with age, covered his large feet. Denim jeans, not too tight, not too loose, clung to legs defined with muscle. His thighs looked like he could support her weight for hours and not tire. A plaid shirt, buttoned up the front, did little to conceal his broad shoulders and sculpted abdomen. Yep, those pecs could be in one of those Sleep-Right commercials. Every woman she knew would claw her best friend’s eyes out to have a chest like his cradling her head.

  “We’re closed,” he growled, face locked in a stony expression.

  She waited for him to extend a hand to help her up. After all, it had been his fault that she fell.

  She waited some more. Okayyy, nothing. Rubbing her hands together to rid them of the ground debris, she winced as loose gravel scraped across her abraded palms. She looked up at ole blue eyes.

  “Your sign says you’re open,” she said removing her backpack.

  He gave the sign a cursory glance, and then frowned. “I’m not.” He bobbed his chin in her direction. “You’re trespassing.”

  Unless there was a new ordinance expanding the law to include sitting on your butt in a public street, he was wrong. Ivy came to her feet, no thanks to him. Looking up, she craned her neck. Whoa, he was tall, and kind of cute in a small-town Scrooge way.

  “Then you should turn the lights off,” she said with a scowl.

  He gave her a twisted smirk. “You from the bank?”

  She reared back, staring up at him in confusion. Dressed in her best pair of ripped jeans, a University of California sweatshirt she’d grabbed off a Goodwill clearance rack in Imperial Beach, there was nothing business-like about her. Why, in her current state of dress, he would think she was from the bank confused her even more.

  “Nope,” she told him, adding a bit of sass to her tone.

  He grinned, baring his teeth. Scary, but going without Maslow’s hierarchy of needs frightened her more.

  “Then, don’t tell me what to do, lady.”

  Her stomach growled, and he narrowed his eyes on her. When it screamed out loud again, the blue-eyed grumpy-pants stepped onto the sidewalk peering down at her. He looked up the street, examining the dark shadows, where she’d come from.

  “Where’s your car?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise at his question. This morning, she’d hitched a ride outside of a San Diego rest area with an overweight trucker named Ralph headed to San Francisco with a trailer load of garlic bulbs. Eight hours into the trip he confessed to never having slept with a woman of her persuasion. He spewed some non-sense about her reminding him of a lovely black unicorn, and then proceeded to grope her with his sausage fingers. When the heck had Ralph the Trucker ever seen a unicorn? Maybe, the pervert had puffed some of Cali’s medical marijuana. Either way, Ivy had screamed for him to stop the rig, giving little attention to the where and when as she exited the semi-truck.

  “What?” she managed to stammer.

  “Where,” he drawled, his voice deliciously deep with a masculine base, “is your car?”

  She looked around. Nervous energy started to bubble in her gut. Okay, she was alone, in some one-traffic light town, with a suddenly angry bar owner tow
ering over her. Maybe she should have tested her luck back in the truck with the last black unicorn hunter.

  “I walked,” she confessed, acutely aware of her vulnerable circumstance.

  He kept his eyes on her. “The five miles from the highway?”

  He practically growled the words. And nowww, Ivy was officially scared.

  She lifted her chin, speaking with more confidence than she felt. “Walking through God’s country never hurt anybody.”