CHAPTER ONE

Hey Rock Stars!

I’m super excited to share something special with you today! 🌟 Drum roll….behold the first chapter of Tender Temptation, the first book in my brand new Charming Irish series. It’s been so much fun bringing this story to life and I can’t wait for you to meet Cillian McGloughlin—the middle brother with a heart as big as his challenges.

Set against the backdrop of family loyalty, personal demons, and an irresistible and taboo romance, Tender Temptation explores the raw and vibrant journey of finding love where and when you least expect it. Whether you’re already a fan of the McGloughlin’s from my Less Than Zero series or you’re just joining the fray, there’s something here for everyone to fall in love with.

☘️ Age-Gap
☘️ Second Chances
☘️ Insta-Love
☘️ Forbidden Love
☘️ Coming of Age
☘️ Hidden Identity

So, grab your favorite cozy spot, a warm drink, and prepare to be swept away to a world where drama unfolds and passions ignite. This is just the beginning, and I promise, you won’t want to miss a moment of it.

Happy reading!

Chapter 1

Ivy
Three Years Prior

I jackknife up with a gasp, heart racing, as blinding light floods my bedroom.

I never get used to this.

Each morning, ever since I returned home from Hedge Academy, Hilde, our house manager, slips in and sweeps open the curtains to make sure I’m awake. A strict instruction from my father. He expects me to be up early.

Even on Saturday morning. It’s barely 5:30 a.m. on  my 18th birthday.

Hilde scoots out and shuts the door behind her. She doesn’t need to say anything more. I’m expected to be an obedient little girl who follows her daddy’s rules.

Which makes me cringe, though I tamp it down and play along.

On the way to my en suite bathroom, I take a moment to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the expansive view of Lake Washington. Below the meticulously manicured gardens, a stone path leads to the place where laughter once echoed from a bustling dock and fire pit. All of it has been removed, replaced with thorny shrubs blocking access to the waterfront.

The altered landscape is a constant reminder of what was lost there. Every joyful memory has been overshadowed by our family tragedy. My brother, Forrest, drowned in the lake five years ago today. My birthday is now the anniversary of his death.

Forrest was the golden child, destined to take over my father’s business. Our family and friends were celebrating my thirteenth birthday with a barbecue. Suddenly, laughter turned to eerie silence when he dove into the lake and didn’t come up. Not only did my brother’s future end, but all happiness in our family drowned with him.

Every birthday since, the air in this house thickens with unspoken grief, making me feel invisible. Neither my mom nor dad will acknowledge it’s my birthday today. It’s as if my existence has been muted by the past.

Life as I knew it ended the day I entered my teens. Now, I’m expected to take over Bright Shipping before my dad retires. I’m not allowed to have typical teenage friendships. I’ve been under the strict and watchful eyes of nannies and tutors, even while away at boarding school. My father also strictly forbids me from dating. He says the distraction will derail my focus and compromise the rigorous path he’s laid out for my future.

I know the truth. He doesn’t want anyone to defile his precious daughter. God forbid I have fun.

I’m fucking lonely.

In therapy, I’m learning to navigate my grief and resentment by reclaiming parts of my life to learn what feels authentic to me. Including my birthday. This year, though I feel like I’m a million years old, I’m technically an adult. She tasked me to take some small, but significant steps toward asserting my independence.

I have a plan.

After a quick shower, I pull on a pair of joggers, a simple tank top, and tie my hair into a high, messy bun. On my way downstairs, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. This isn’t the sculpted and polished Ivy Bright my dad prefers. My version of Ivy is ready to grasp some semblance of weekend normalcy.

My version of Ivy is going to enjoy one day free from a legacy of tragedy and expectation.

Descending the back staircase to the breakfast room, I spot my dad, Stanley Bright, already seated at the head of our sleek, glass-top formal dining table with his back to the panoramic view. The spread before him is mouth-watering—organic fruits, artisan bread, imported cheeses. I’m used to the many silent displays of our family wealth.

“Good morning, Dad.” I try to keep my voice neutral as I approach the table. To pull this off, I need to be clever. And not mention my birthday.

My dad barely looks up from his tablet, where he’s no doubt been reviewing market analytics or shipping news. “Morning.” He surveys my outfit, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Interesting choice for breakfast attire.”

Typical. I choose to ignore the slight, pulling up a chair. “It’s comfortable.”

“Yes, well, remember the importance of maintaining a polished appearance.” He returns his attention to his breakfast, but not before adding, “Your position will demand a certain standard of professionalism, best get in the habit now.”

His words sting. A reminder my life is a series of stepping stones with no deviation from his plan. “Actually, I was hoping we could talk about the summer.”

“What’s to discuss? You’re leaving for Stanford Business School in a couple of months.” He sets down his fork. “Until then, I’d like you to start your training…”

“…Dad, stop.” I push around a slice of kiwi on my plate with my fork. “I need a break and I’d like to take the summer off. I’ve worked hard to get both my high school diploma and my undergrad degree in four years. Stanford will be intense. I’m not planning on lying around watching reruns on Bravo. I have an idea for a productive, but more creative way for me to spend the next few weeks. Art class. Dance. Things I used to love and won’t have time for once I start school again.”

My dad sighs. “Ivy, you have the intellect and the education. Why squander your time on frivolous dreams? Reality has much more to offer you.”

“I don’t see it as squandering,” I counter softly. “I want to live a bit. It’s not a lot to ask. You play golf every Friday and Sunday. Do crosswords. I’ve even see you watch Shark Tank a time or two.”

My father pauses, considering this. “Well….”

“Please.” Leaning on the table, I rest my chin on my palms and give him my best puppy-dog eyes. It used to work all the time. Now we’re about 50/50. No, 70/30 in his favor.

“I don’t want you to waste time you can’t get back.” He pauses and I almost think he’s going to wish me a happy 18th. He doesn’t, but he does surprise me in a different way. “You know what? You’re a good girl. This summer you can do your little hobbies. Your mom will probably be thrilled.”

“Thank you.” I ignore the backhanded dig. “Where is Mom?” I glance up the staircase and back at him. No sign of my mother, Allison Bright.

Dad clasps his hands. “Packing. She’s coming with me to Asia. We’re leaving in an hour.” He gets up from the table. “She needs a change of scenery to….refresh.”

Wait, what? They’re leaving? Today?

His carefully chosen words remind me, painfully, my birthday is irrelevant to them.

Will I ever get used to how badly it hurts?

“I do have some conditions. While we’re gone, other than your classes, keep to your usual routine here. We don’t want to worry about you. I’ll leave you several books I’d like you to read, which are vital for your future.” He places his hand on my shoulder, the only sign of affection he’s shown me in years.

I look up at him. “Would it be okay if I stayed with Emma Rogers? From the academy? You like her and her parents are clients. Maybe not all the time, but it would be nice to have company from time to time.”

“Well…” He scrutinizes me so I’m careful to keep my puppy-eyes fixed with sincerity. “Only if you’re not imposing. Make sure to let Hilde know—and Ivy?” He narrows his eyes on his way up the stairs. “I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it.”

I’m shocked, I never thought he’d go for it. Trudging back up to my room, I’m  actually confused at this turn of events. Did my parents think it was acceptable to abandon me for the summer to live with the house staff? With restrictions to boot?

Ridiculous.

Thank God for my quick thinking. At least now I’ll have someone to hang out with and activities to look forward to this summer. I pull out my laptop and search for dance workshops. A three-hour session late this afternoon catches my eye—perfect. I register, but, truthfully, it hardly feels like a victory.

As I’m scrolling through some art classes, I hear a thump thump thump of a suitcase on the stairs. A car engine starts. My parents chatter past my bedroom door and down the hall until I can’t hear them anymore. Peering out the window, I watch them get in the car. Then it disappears down the long driveway.

Neither of them bothered to say goodbye. Wow. I’m lost in a bit of woe-is-me for a few minutes. Tears prick my eyes and it takes a while to tamp them down. I’m not crying today, though. No way.

Then it dawns on me.

I’ve been handed the greatest gift I could ever ask for. A summer of freedom.

At least for eight weeks.

Which is a lifetime. Fifty-six days. The possibilities are endless.

I might get a tattoo. Try sky-diving. Oooh, maybe a concert…or a festival. Yes! I can take a road trip to the Olympic Mountains and go hiking.

Wait.

Am I going to do all of these activities with Emma? How depressing.

She’s nice and all but we’re not close. Actually, she’s immature. It’s understandable, I guess. Most of my boarding schoolmates hung out like normal students while I earned my diploma, got a business degree, and learned the fundamentals of our shipping business.

Without playing a tiny violin, in a couple of months, I’ll be fast-tracking an MBA while my so-called peers have the time of their life, joining sororities and living the college life. Activities I’ll never get to experience.

Yeah, Emma and I are a million miles apart. It’s a pretty sad state of affairs.

Wait. A. Minute.

I don’t need to hang out with Emma. Hilde doesn’t have Emma’s phone number, and I’m not about to give it to her. Plus, with my parents being in a completely opposite time zone, they won’t call to check up on me—my dad will be too busy working and my mom barely acknowledges I exist. If I tell Hilde I’m staying nights at her house, no one will be the wiser.

With Emma as my unwitting alibi, I’ll be able to do whatever I want.

Ooooh. The possibilities are endless.

I don’t have to be Ivy Bright, heiress and perpetual goodie two-shoes. I can be whomever I want and do whatever I want, whenever I want to do it. No one is going to stop me.

Oh, the adventures I’ll have this summer! I’m going to try everything I’d never be allowed to do under the oppressive rules of my dad.

Maybe after dance class tonight I can hang out in a coffee shop…or, a bar. Somewhere casual, where I could strike up a conversation—I’m surprisingly adept at small talk. I don’t want a nightclub vibe or anything too precious or too divey. Definitely not somewhere where my parents’ friends might see me.

Hmmm.

The studio is close to Pike Place Market. There’s bound to be somewhere nearby to stop by after class is over. I Google that shit and, bingo, there’s an Irish pub called Kells a couple of blocks away. I launch their website and it’s perfect. Casual. Low-key. Nondescript. Tonight there’s even a live band. There’s no chance anyone will know me there.

Except…I have to be twenty-one to get in.

Well, I didn’t get perfect grades for being stupid. It takes me all of thirty seconds to find a video on YouTube on how to make a fake ID.

It’s surprisingly easy. I upload my driver’s license into Photoshop. Change my birthday so I’m twenty-four, not eighteen. Then, it occurs to me…I should also use a fake name. On the off-chance I get caught, I can’t risk dragging the Bright name through the mud. I decide to use my mother’s maiden name.

I type in “Ivy Davies,” save my handiwork in the cloud and locate a place where I can print and laminate the card. It’s amateur, sure, but hopefully it will pass.

Holy shit.

I’ve never dared to defy my father completely. I’ve never kept secrets—other than the fact I own a vibrator which—eww—is frankly none of his business. What’s a girl who isn’t allowed to date supposed to do?

Anyway, the excitement of doing something scandalous is intoxicating. I find myself giddy at the possibilities the next eight weeks will bring in my journey of self-discovery and adventure.

Self-discovery and adventure…

I look at myself in the mirror. As my counselor says, tune into what you want and don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it.

Tell me, Ivy. What do you really want? If you could have anything?

I’m not going to lie. I know, but never dreamed it would be possible.

I want to be touched. Loved. Adored. I don’t want friends, I want a summer fling. Someone to hold my hand and kiss. Someone to explore my sexuality with, before I hit Stanford.

Let’s be honest, I’m a horny, eighteen-year-old virgin and I will never, ever, ever get this opportunity again. The rest of my life will be dedicated to running the family business and marrying someone my dad approves of.

Starting today, I’m finding a slice of happiness.

On my terms.

And, I’m not going to feel bad about it.

Keeping Up With Kaylene

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From my dear friend Anna:

Endless was my very first book by Kaylene Winter – Author. It is because this book that we started messaging on Goodreads and developed a friendship. Witnessing her success with not only Endless, but also with her other novels has been such a wonderful experience.

The Less Than Zero series is one of my all time favorite rockstar series and it all started with Ty and Zoey capturing my heart.

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Much love,

Kaylene