Big Bad Boy Read online Penny Wylder (Big Men #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Big Men Series by Penny Wylder

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

(Big Men #1) Big Bad Boy

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Penny Wylder

Book Information:

City girls shouldn't kiss rugged mountain men...
That's not a saying my mom ever told me, but she should have. Maybe then I wouldn't have turned my work-trip into a fling with the biggest, boldest, most irresistible man I'd ever met.
His muscles are hard, his lips are soft. His smirk makes my legs weak. I'm done for.
And then I decide I'm done with HIM, because I'm not ready for the intensity of another night with a wild, big man like this. Back to the city and my demanding job.
Or that's what I planned... Until I learned I don't have a choice to walk away.
Can a secret baby turn a brooding bad boy into a loving father? Or is he as cold as the mountain he lives on?

Completely Standalone Novel!
NO cheating, lots of kindle-melting action, and always a happily ever after! This is a revised, expanded+additional content release of Big Mountain. Even if you read that version, you'll find new, delicious stuff inside!
Books in Series:

Big Men Series by Penny Wylder

Books by Author:

Penny Wylder



As my train pulls into the quaint Bailey Village station, I feel a weight lifting from my shoulders.

I love my job, I really do. It’s taken me years to get where I am, but I’m finally doing what I love full-time—taking photographs. But it’s hectic to keep up with the market demand. My boss gives me great assignments, but I hardly ever have time to breathe, between chasing down my next photo shoot, actually doing the shoot, then editing all the photos post-event.

I didn’t notice how stressed I was feeling lately, between the four weekend weddings I photographed in a row on the side, and my regular job shooting events and festivals for the Philadelphia Gazette. But when my boss asked me to take on this project, shooting the big spring festival in Bailey, a small town about two hours outside Philly in the Poconos, for a feature he’s got planned on nearby weekend vacation spots, I practically tackled him to volunteer for the gig.

This is just what I need. A weekend away from it all—the hustle and bustle of the big city, the constant pressure of lining up my next gig practically before I’ve even finished the former, and even just the noise. My apartment is adorable but it’s right in the thick of things, above a bar that doesn’t close until 2am (and doesn’t quiet down until at least 4am) on the weekends, not to mention the traffic and construction sounds during the day.

I like keeping busy, but not at the expense of my sanity.

A whole weekend to myself, just to photograph one sleepy little village’s springtime traditions, with three whole days to shoot to my heart’s content, and plenty of time in between to meander around the village, breathe the fresh mountain air, welcome in spring along with all the locals out here.

I can’t wait. I’ve been living and breathing photography for the past four years. Laser focused on my career. Slaying misogynistic photo editors at smalltime papers, picking up small gigs to pay my rent, playing nice with the editors in Philly until I finally, victoriously, earned my spot on staff. Staring out the window, speeding away from Philly, for the first time I feel satisfied, like my life is all lined up, and I can finally enjoy the ride. I earned it.

From the moment I step out of the train station, I can tell I’m going to love Bailey. It’s got that European old world feel to it, with stone cottages as far as the eye can see, and even a cobblestoned street in the center of town lined with cheerily-painted shop fronts in a pastel rainbow of colors. The trees that line the narrow streets are in full bloom. I spot magnolias, even a couple cherry trees, mingled among the usual poplars and maples.

It takes my phone a few minutes to catch up to the slower reception out here—mapping the little hotel in the center of town I’ve booked for the weekend takes a full two minutes—but I don’t even mind. It’s nice to be a little disconnected for once. I have the perfect excuse if anyone tries to bug me over the next few days. “Sorry, no service!”

Finally, the map loads, and I take off, weekender bag slung over one shoulder, my camera bag slung over the other, winding through increasingly narrow alleys until I get to a street that’s pedestrian only, at the end of which there’s a view of the massive central village square, where I can see people setting up tents and food trucks for the upcoming festival. I spy more than a few beer tents, not to mention catch the scent of some mouth-watering food cooking over an open fire somewhere in that direction.

My hotel is right on the corner, the perfect location for darting in and out between shooting the festival and events around it. As I stroll up to the entrance, a short man in a red hotel uniform darts out, hand extended toward my bags.

“Checking in?” he calls, before I’ve even reached the entrance. “Let me help you with that.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, grateful, as I shrug the bags off my shoulders. It’s only the essentials, since I’m just here for three days and two nights, but I had to lug most of my camera equipment with me too, so that really adds up.

“Wow, how long are you here for, the whole month?” he jokes as he hoists the bags under one arm.

“I wish.” I laugh. “Sadly, just for the festival.”

“Up from the city?” he asks, sizing up my outfit, and probably also weighing the bags under his arm.

“How could you tell?” I joke, with a glance down at my outfit. Heeled boots, tights, a slim-fitting pencil skirt and my work blouse—I’m not dressed for the countryside yet. I had to come straight from the office today, but it really makes me stand out. Everyone I passed on the walk here was wearing jeans and flannel, maybe with the occasional flowery spring dress, loose and deliciously comfortable looking.