Goldie Locks – Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Goldie Locks - Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Book Information:

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.

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.
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari

Chapter One


“Well. I’m not sure what to say, Phoebe. You did say you wanted extra shifts and here I am offering them to you.”

I gnaw at my lip, glancing at the clock, and try to calculate how much sleep I can get before I have to go back to work.

“It’s just… It’s the first day off I’ve had in over a week,” I hear myself say, not wanting to sound so whiny and failing.

I can almost hear my boss shrugging, loud scratching sounds too. A thick pencil line through my name and all my other shifts for the next week, I’m sure of it.

I’ve seen him do it to other people all the time.

“Alright, alright,” I gasp. “I’ll do it.”

Feeling the knot in my stomach starting to ball up tighter, I’m wondering if I’m not jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, but I do need the extra money.

Graveyard shifts at the box factory don’t pay great, but it’s better than waitressing, hairdressing, or the dozen other crappy things I’ve done to get myself to where I am.

And where is that exactly?

Don’t say it Phoebes. Don’t do this to yourself.

Blowing air out of puffed cheeks, I sign off with my boss and hang up. Scanning the threadbare apartment I bust my hump every week to afford and still manage to always be behind.

Maybe it had its heyday early in the last century, but the crumbling façade of the complex matches the withered interior. And don’t even get me started on the plumbing.

Not to mention last month’s paycheck got chewed up when I had several new locks put on my front door.

I thought the past was behind me, but then the strange phone calls started. Even stuff in my locker at work.

Then finally the notes under the door.

I jump involuntarily, but it’s only Trixie sniffing at my feet.

Bending down I scoop up my baby. My one and only true friend in the whole world.

Not long after moving a second time, I went to the animal shelter to get a guard dog.

As soon as I saw Trixie though, all that changed.

My little fur baby was there waiting for me, shivering and tiny. Lonely and scared.

We were a perfect match from the first second we saw each other.

Two souls who needed each other when nobody else would have them.

She’s a guard dog of sorts, but mainly warding off my negative emotions more than frightening actual stalkers or prowlers.

She makes a face, reading my mind as I press my own into her fur before she grunts with satisfaction.

Saving my emotions for the hundredth time in one day already.

The volunteers at the shelter didn’t like to use the word, but Trixie is a mutt, through and through. A tiny, shaggy, and scrappy bundle of fur. But what she lacks in size and beauty, she makes up for with heart and she sure stole mine. That first day and every hour ever since.

“Alright baby?” I ask her, sensing she knows I’m fretting. And not just about having to go back to work either.

She suddenly lets out a low growl and a shrill bark, making me jump.

Turning in time I see the thin yellow envelope sliding under the front door and my heart stops and then starts to beat rapidly.

It’s another note. Another message.

I set Trixie down, commanding her to stay, determined to find out just who’s behind all this once and for all.

I leave the note, don’t even need to pick it up or open it to know what’s inside.

It’s just more of the same.

Taking a deep breath at the door, I swing it open and launch myself out into the hallway, sure I’ll catch whoever’s been stalking me in the act.

But the hallway is empty.

My heart is pounding in my chest and there’s blood rushing in my ears, which I can feel turning red with heat.

I’m kind of relieved in a way.

What would I do if I confronted them, whoever they are?

What am I gonna do if I ever-


The sound of my apartment door snapping shut and locking behind me makes my fiery pulse turn to ice in a second.

I’m locked out. Well and truly. It’s what all those locks are for.

The keys, my phone, and worst of all, my baby girl Trixie are all locked inside.

I could go to the neighbors for help, but truth be told, they’re also part of the reason I got those extra locks on my door.

The only other person I can think of to help me is the landlady, who also lives in the building.

Old widow Peterson, who’s nice enough most of the time but when I’m already so far behind on my rent?

I’ve been actively avoiding her for two weeks but now it feels like I don’t have a choice.

“Ah. Ms. Gold. I’ll get your rent book, just a minute,” she sighs, peering out through a chain locked door to her own apartment after I get up the courage to knock.