Phoebe: They say all that glitters isn’t gold and my namesake is just that but it’s far from glittering. Phoebe Gold. Sounds like a celebrity but I can assure you, I’m not. Silly me. I thought all my problems were over, I thought I’d escaped it all. But it’s happening again. Someone’s been following me and it looks like they’ve found me again. Two different jobs and a move to the city later, I thought it was all behind me. The apartments have gotten crummier and the jobs I take match the rent I still have trouble meeting. How did they find me? More to the point, what am I gonna do now? I can’t keep running forever. Just when it feels like I could implode, I lock myself out of my apartment. My keys, phone, and my baby girl still inside. If there was ever a damsel in distress, it’s me right now. If there was ever a dreamier hero come to save the day, it’s the stand-in locksmith. A little unconventional, wearing a five hundred dollar suit but the man’s a freaking god. He can pick my locks any day of the week. “Your baby’s inside?” he gasps, looking ready to tear the door from its hinges. She is… but she’s not the kind of baby he thinks. She’s my fur baby, but his concern is so real. So sweet. So perfect, like the rest of him. Could such a handsome, older guy like him help a younger curvy girl like me? Maybe even something more? Something tells me I’m willing to risk everything, even telling him the whole story to find out. If nothing else, I know he’s the one man alive who can help me right now. And I’ll do anything he wants to return the favor if he does. And I mean anything he wants.Maxwell: I haven’t messed with a lock for years. Don’t need to anymore. I keep trying to convince my old man he doesn’t need to either, even tried buying him out a dozen times but he won’t have it. It’s his life’s work and it raised me to be the man I am today. I have my own life now, more in the business of secure investments than home security. A self-made man at forty, I’m living the life most people aspire to. Enough for two lifetimes. Then why does it feel so empty? That’s an easy one, but I’d never say it out loud. Because I’m doing it all alone. I’m on the way to a business meeting when I get the call from my dad. He can’t get to an urgent job, some young girl’s locked herself out of her apartment with her baby inside. Baby? Call 911. Apparently, it’s ‘complicated’, so I rush on over. At first, I think it must be a setup, dad’s always trying to pair me off with pretty women so he can have the grandchildren he’s always wanted. “Then I’ll retire,” he’s always promised. But this is no setup. This is divine intervention. One look at her and I know she’s the solution to all my problems. Those voluptuous hips, that chest. Her golden hair. Trouble is, would a goddess like that ever go for an older guy like me? The bigger problem: She’s got some history, and it’s gonna take more than just picking her lock to find out just how deep the Phoebe Gold well goes. It’s far from a fairy tale beginning, but being a man who knows what he wants, I’ll be damned to make sure there’s a fairy tale ending for us both.*Goldie Locks is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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