M.S. Parker's Blog

We all know that feeling when we’re about to start a new romance book. The butterflies in our stomach, the nerves, the excitement. And part of that feeling comes from knowing that we’re about to embark on a journey with a tried and true plotline. Whether it’s enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, or billionaire bad boy, there’s nothing quite like the comfort of knowing what you’re getting yourself into.

Here are the top 5 best-selling romance book tropes according to a recent study:

1) Billionaire Bad Boy: He’s wealthy, he’s powerful, and he’s dangerous. But there’s something about him that just makes us weak in the knees. Perhaps it’s his wounded soul that he so carefully hides behind his steely exterior. Or maybe it’s just those abs… Either way, this is a trope that shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

2) Enemies to Lovers: They can’t stand each other… or can they? This is perhaps one of the most classic of all romance tropes and for good reason. There’s something incredibly satisfying about watching two people who can’t stand each other slowly fall in love with one another. It’s the ultimate underdog story and we can’t get enough of it!

3) Friends to Lovers: They’ve been best friends for years but could there be something more? This is another fantastic trope that always delivers. We love watching characters who already know and love each other find their way into a romantic relationship. These stories always feel incredibly genuine and heartwarming.

4) Fake Relationship: They need to pretend to be in a relationship for one reason or another… but things start to get a little too real. This is a fun trope that allows readers to suspend their disbelief just enough to enjoy a quick escape into a fantasy world. We love seeing how these characters react when they start to develop feelings for one another outside of their fake relationship!

5) Royalty: They’re rich, they’re beautiful, and they’re totally out of your league… But that doesn’t mean you can’t dream! This trope is escapism at its finest and we can’t get enough of it. Whether it’s a dashing prince or a gorgeous queen, we love reading about regular people who end up falling for royalty. It’s the stuff fairy tales are made of!

If you’re looking for your next romance novel fix, be sure to check out one of these classic tropes!

You’re guaranteed an enjoyable read filled with plenty of passion, drama, and (of course) a happy ending.

Riley Lawson, a small-town guy with nothing left to lose, moves to Hollywood to work for his aunt’s talent agency, where he gets caught up in a brief love affair with a former TV star, Eliza Jones.
The fling ends when Eliza’s husband returns home and Riley vows never to sleep with a client again.

Everything changes when he meets Marisa, a beautiful young actress, and their attraction is immediate. But his excitement gets shattered when his aunt tells him Marisa is Eliza Jones’ stepdaughter and completely off-limits.

From forbidden love to complicated family dynamics, Riley’s life is turned upside down in Tinseltown. Can he survive in the land of make-believe, or will he crumble under the pressure?

Find out in Hollywood Hunk, a captivating romance from USA Today bestselling author, M. S. Parker.

Find it here:

Available Now

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When Carson McCrae, the hottest designer in Manhattan, asked me to model a new bra in a fashion show, I knew it was a line.
How could it not be?
I’m anything but a runway model. Sure, I’m tall, but I’m not skinny. I got more curves than Kim Kardashian.
It was definitely a line.
So why did I say yes?

Growing up in a commune four hours from New York City, Vixen Teal is not your typical New Yorker. Disgusted with a new leader, she leaves home and finds employment at a small boutique in Manhattan.
During a chance meeting, celebrity designer, Carson McCrae, offers Vixen a modeling gig out of the blue. Little does she know that accepting it leads to losing her job, apartment, and everything she owns.
Out on the street with nothing but the clothes on her back, she has two choices: go back to the life she knows and hates at the commune, or take a chance at a new life, modeling for Carson McCrae.

Don’t miss A Dress for Curves by M. S. Parker. The latest story in The Scottish Billionaires series.

Available Now

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Sixteen years ago, I lost Belle, the love of my life, in a tragic car accident.

Devastated, I left Scotland to work in Uncle Ben’s brokerage firm in Manhattan. Dedicating my life to the job, I rose to the top of the ladder, next in line to head the billion-dollar company.

Belle, however, never left my heart.

Every year––on our anniversary––I dine at the restaurant where we first met.

And that’s when I saw her again…today!

She was three tables away—the spitting image of Belle from sixteen years ago. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It had to be fate or at least a sign.

Now, there’s only one thing on my mind; I must find out who she is.

When Drake Mac Gilleain lays eyes on Maggie McCrae, he believes he’s seeing the ghost of his late wife and decides to follow her.

Maggie has found her dream as a violinist in the New York Philharmonic, but her personal life is scared by a controlling and abusive boyfriend.

It leads to a violent argument on the sidewalk, but luckily, Drake sees the assault and saves Maggie.

Shaken but determined to rid herself of her boyfriend, Maggie stays with Drake while sorting out her situation, and an instant attraction ensues.

Drake is falling hard for Maggie, but as the truth comes out, how can Drake explain he stalked her for weeks because she reminds him of his late wife?

Find out what happens next in M. S. Parker’s new novel, At First Sight , a brilliant standalone romance in the Scottish Billionaires series.

Available Now

Free in Kindle Unlimited

The Hotel King and the Decorator

That would be a fitting title if my life was a fairytale. But does getting spanked every night by a kinky billionaire mogul equal a fantasy? I’m still undecided.

One thing’s for sure, if I’d known the trouble I was heading toward, I never would have taken on the catering gig my sister offered.

Because that led to Maximus.

Now, I’m the center of a celebrity scandal in Houston while being pursued by the notorious billionaire playboy James Maximus, the Hotel King of Texas.

I only hope to find a way out of this mess before my family discovers my newest and darkest secret.

You don’t want to miss Serving the Mogul, the latest steamy romance from USA Today’s best-selling author M. S. Parker.

Available Now

Free in Kindle Unlimited

New stand-alone novel in M.S. Parker’s: The Scottish Billionaires.

Baylen McFann: A week ago, I was engaged to be married. Now, I’m single and humiliated.

My wife to be–also my business partner–eloped with her ex, and left me, not only without a fiancée but also with a mismanaged, almost bankrupt business.

My parents, of course, scolded me. How could I be so stupid?

Now I’m stuck in coach instead of a private jet until I can redeem myself. One thing is for sure. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again.

When Baylen, the middle son in the wealthy McFann family, discovers that his fiancée has left him, he escapes Scotland to find advice from his friend across the pond, Alec McCrae. When Alec presents his newest statistical analyst, Harlee Sumpter, he’s already smitten.

Is Baylen really done mixing business with pleasure, or will Harlee be too tempting to avoid?

Find out in Business or Pleasure, the latest steamy romance in M. S. Parker’s bestselling series, The Scottish Billionaires.

“Never mix business with pleasure,” my father warned me.

Did I listen? No. But now, on a flight to visit my old university mate, Alec McCrae, I thoroughly regretted that decision.

A week ago, I was engaged to be married. Now, I’m single and humiliated. My wife to be, also my business partner, eloped with her ex, and left me, not only without a fiancée but also with a mismanaged, almost bankrupt business.

My parents, of course, berated me. How could I be so stupid?

Now I’m stuck in coach instead of a private jet until I can redeem myself. One thing for sure. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again.

When Baylen, middle son in the wealthy McFann family, discovers that his fiancée has left him, he is devastated and heartbroken. His parents come down hard on him and he escapes Scotland to find business advice from his friend across the pond, Alec McCrae. When Alec presents his newest statistical analyst, Harlee Sumpter, he’s already smitten.

Is Baylen really done mixing business with pleasure, or will Harlee be too tempting to avoid?

Find out in Business or Pleasure, the latest story in M. S. Parker’s bestselling series, The Scottish Billionaires. 

Prologue

Baylen

The University of Glasgow

Fifteen years ago…

The sun was shining, and with temperatures above average, it was a perfect omen for my first day of university, if only I’d believed in such things. The McFanns, however, had not come from superstitious folk. We believed in facts and science. 

Sitting in my car, I was still the same person as yesterday. Newly eighteen-year-old Baylen McFann. The middle child, who does well in school, but nothing uniquely remarkable about him. I had yet to make a mark on the world, for good or bad.

But my time was just ahead.

Steeling myself for what to come, I exited the car and retrieved two suitcases from the boot.

By the time I’d unpacked and settled in my new apartment, the sun was low in the sky. A glance at the kitchen clock told me it was half five, and my stomach growled, reminding me I’d hardly eaten today. I’d grown up on my family’s estate outside of Glasgow but spending much time in the city I knew several excellent pubs nearby.

Twenty minutes later, I walked into The Smokin’ Fox. I’d been there before, and the food was better than anything I could cook up at the flat. The place was crowded, so I lingered near the door looking for a place to sit.

“Yer bum’s oot the window!”

The yelling drew my attention to a trio of men standing near the bar. They were sweaty and red-faced, their shirts proclaiming their loyalty to Aberdeen Football Club. They’d played Glasgow Rangers today and judging by the way the men threw their hands in the air, I assumed they’d won.

One shoved another, earning a shout of, “Get tae fuck, arsepiece.”

The trio attracted more attention now, cursing louder and more inventively as they moved from pushing each other to bumping into others. The bartender glared at them. But even from where I stood, the cast on his arm was clearly visible. He wouldn’t be able to do anything.

I decided to go somewhere quieter, when all hell broke loose.

A pretty waitress, hardly a day over eighteen, weaved between the men when one of them grabbed her ass. With a loud crack, her hand slammed against the man’s cheek, silencing the room.

His meaty hand closed around her wrist. “Bitch!”

As his two buddies stepped closer, I moved forward without thinking. The girl looked more angry than afraid. But if things kept going in the same direction, that’d change soon.

She tried to pull away, but he held her tight, his insults and curses drowning out whatever she was saying. His other hand went up, and I wasn’t close enough to stop what was coming.

Before his blow landed, another man intervened, blond about my age. He’d grabbed his arm, pulling him back. When his two buddies moved forward, I stepped between them, catching one of them with a hand on his chest.

“Leave the lass alone,” I said.

“Or?” The redhead grinned wide, showing gaps where several teeth were missing.

The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on when he finally took a swing at me. I avoided the hook, and the rest of the fight was a blur of fists and feet as my new friend and I took on the hooligans. A blow to the ribs had me gasping, but I dodged a punch to the face. Pain radiated up my arm when my knuckles met the redhead’s jaw. As he staggered back, I caught my foot behind him and sent him tumbling.

I turned to fight another asshole, when other hands grabbed the men and shoved them towards the door. As quickly as it’d started, it was over.

“Are you alright?” the blond guy asked the waitress.

“Aye, I am.” She smiled at him and then turned to me. “Thank you.”

I nodded, still out of breath. I caught her when she threw her arms around me, the adrenaline in my body making me tense.
“I’ve got to call my mum.” The girl released me and ran off.

The blue eyes of my new friend danced with amusement. He looked familiar, though I couldn’t place him.

As everyone went back to what they were doing, the two of us stood alone. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I held out my hand.

“Baylen McFann.”

He smiled and gave me a firm shake. “Alec McCrae.”

I knew that surname. “McCrae? Any connection to the McCrae International Research Institute?”

“Aye.” His eyes widened with surprise. “I’m Patrick McCrae’s eldest.”

I realized I’d seen him before, even though it had been over ten years. We’d been children at an event with our families.

I gestured toward a table. “I’ve yet to eat. Care to join me?”

“You should get the girl’s number first,” Alec suggested. “Be the hero.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not interested?”

He shrugged. “Not at the moment.”

The waitress was on the phone. She sure was a pretty thing. “Maybe later. She’s had a rough day.”

“Aye,” Alec said. “Later then.”

We ordered and settled around a table, as we spoke of our families. The McCrae’s had moved to America, which was the reason I hadn’t seen him in a decade. As Alec spoke of moving to another country, the shadow on his face prevented me from asking why they had left. Instead, I teased him about sounding American and coaxed out another smile.

Our food arrived and I grabbed a fork. “Can I ask why you came back to Glasgow for university if your family is in California?”

Alec didn’t answer right away.

“We moved because Da remarried,” he said, his eyes fixed on his food. “I remember my mother better than my siblings do, but sometimes I feel like I’m losing the memory. But here…whenever we visit, I can…see her better.”

It made sense. Alec wasn’t here just to remember his mother, but also to share the experience with her.

“Will you be takin’ the business route, then? Plan to head the family business here?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t decided where I’ll locate, but aye, I’ll be takin’ over MIRI one day, so I’m going the MBA route.” He cleared his throat. “And you? Do you know what you’re going for?”

“An MBA as well for me,” I said. “My parents expect all of us to grow the family empire.” I gave him a wry smile.

Alec’s forehead furrowed for a moment. “McFann? Would your parents be Charles and Elsa McFann? One of the wealthiest families in Scotland and contributors to medical research?”

I nodded. “Aye. That’s them. My eldest brother is already following in their footsteps.”

“But you’re going your own direction?” The shrewd expression on Alec’s face led me to believe that he saw far more than most people.

“That I am, in a way.” I gave him a rueful smile. “Unlike my father, I want to be involved, help businesses become successful and thrive, rather than just invest, take over, and then sell the business in pieces.”

I rarely spoke of my family’s money with such candor. To consciously draw notice to such things was the height of vulgarity. However, Alec came from the same background and understood our world.

Initially, I hadn’t been sure I could relate to anyone here.

Find a friend.

I’d never believed in signs or intuition, but suddenly I had an insight with no logical basis.

Alec McCrae and I were going to be great friends.

Business or Pleasure (The Scottish Billionaires #8) is coming soon.

If you’re new to the Scottish billionaires series, start with Alec McCrae in Off Limits (The Scottish Billionaires #1), available here. 

Exclusive Free Book – His Inspiration

“It was just business, it was nothing.” 

That’s what my brother Nate said when he stabbed me in the back. He’s a ruthless record label mogul who’s only loyalty is to himself. New York has nothing left for me.

Joshua Lexington moves across country to cut all ties with his brother and put the ugly family differences behind him. Once a promising musician in a great band, Joshua resigns himself to work as a low-paid jingle writer in Los Angeles.

But his bad luck changes when he meets Trissa Harring, a young costume designer who steals his heart and inspires him to write songs again. That is until life’s cruel twists and turns, derails him and he blows it with Trissa.

The best thing he has ever had, slips through his fingers and she leaves for New York, the last place Joshua wants to be.

Don’t miss, His Inspiration, a steamy page-turner by USA Today bestselling author, M. S. Parker.

Check out the now complete Manhattan Records Trilogy!

Free on Kindle Unlimited

Brody: Keeping my mind off Freedom Mercier is damn near impossible. Destiny has thrown curveball after curveball at us. I want her, but how is this ever going to work?

Freedom: I learned early on not to trust anyone with my heart. Never date the same person more than once is my general rule. Why then, can’t I get Brody McCrae out of my head…or my bed?

Life events drive a wedge between Brody and Freedom, and they wonder if fate is trying to tell them they are wrong for each other. As their struggles continue, they must make the choice: fight for love, or let it go.

Don’t miss part two of Brody and Freedom’s story in Perfect Blend, M.S. Parker’s steamy duet in The Scottish Billionaires saga.

Chapter One

Brody

You would think that a man who makes his living making and selling alcohol wouldn’t have to spend much time in a tux, but you’d be wrong. Maybe that would have been the case if I only sold to bars and liquor stores, but producing high-end whiskey meant catering to a more prestigious crowd.

Which was why I was only one tuxedo in a crowd of many.

To make matters worse, this New Year’s Eve party was at a university. And not just any university. It was Stanford.

Two of my brothers had graduated from here, but that didn’t make things easier. In fact, I was thirty-one years old, had a thriving business, was dressed in what was probably the most expensive tux in the room, and I still felt like an imposter. A gawky teenager everyone liked, but no one took seriously.

Intellectually, I knew that wasn’t the case. I’d left my easy surfer vibe behind me more than a decade ago and had forged my own empire, independent of the business my father had built, McCrae International Research Institute ­– MIRI for short. I’d used some of the business contacts my family made over the years, as well as the money I received from my shares of the company, but I’d built Shannon’s on my own.

Now, thirteen years after I first thought up the idea, I’d succeeded in making a brand I hoped was worthy of the name it carried.

“Mr. McCrae, I’m glad you were able to make it.”

The familiar voice drew me out of my thoughts, and I fixed a polite smile on my face. I turned to face Dr. Johann Josephs, the British Literature professor who’d invited me to tonight’s party.

Glancing around the room, I wasn’t entirely sure if I agreed with calling this a party, exactly. Especially a New Year’s Eve party. While there were at least two hundred people here, I could still hear classical music playing over the sound system. It was that quiet. Everyone spoke in low, modulated tones that would’ve driven me nuts if I’d been here to have fun. Growing up in a massive family meant that most of my life had been filled with noise. I didn’t associate much of anything quiet as being enjoyable.

Still, I was here for business, not pleasure.

“Good to see you again, Dr. Josephs.” I put out my hand, and he gave it a hearty shake. “How was your Christmas?”

“Productive,” he answered with a smile. “I finished my paper on the prevalence of unnecessary graphic sexual violence in British literature over the last thirty years. Sexing the Cherry was a particularly useful text.”

If I hadn’t had several conversations with the interesting professor over the last few weeks, I might’ve thought he was trying to make me feel stupid. It hadn’t taken long, though, for me to realize that he was passionate about his work, and that was just how he talked. Still, I had absolutely no clue how to respond to what he’d just said.

Who would bring up a book called Sexing the Cherry at a faculty party?

Better yet, who the hell would write a book with that title?

Fortunately, a vague response was best in this situation since we weren’t here to talk about books.

“Congratulations. My brother Blaze works at John Hopkins, so I know how important being published is in the academic world.”

Dr. Josephs looked confused. “I’m aware of a professor of education at John Hopkins with that distinctive first name, but I thought his last name was Gracen, not McCrae.”

I took a deep breath in preparation to explain about my complicated family. “It is. Technically, Blaze is my stepmother’s nephew who, with his brother and sister, moved in with us after their parents died. My family tree can get a little confusing, so I usually just keep it simple and call them all my siblings. The details are just technicalities.”

“So true.” Dr. Josephs scratched the side of his long nose. “Technicalities.”

I’d noticed that, if he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to something, Dr. Josephs tended to agree and repeat a part of the statement. It made conversations with him interesting, to say the least. On the positive side, he didn’t require as much finesse when it came to bringing up or changing a subject.

“Have you had a chance to speak to any of your colleagues about the whiskey you gave them for Christmas?”

When he and I first started talking just before Thanksgiving, I mentioned that I had three kinds of Shannon’s whiskey I could supply Stanford with for any of their faculty events. He’d suggested that he purchase two or three of each and give them to his colleagues as gifts, using their opinions about the whiskey to determine if Shannon’s would be a good fit for future events.

Now, as he gave me the rundown of everything he’d been told, I tried to pick out the important pieces and file them away to use when I wrote up my notes from tonight. Even if Stanford decided not to go with Shannon’s, I’d have feedback to look over and learn from.

Halfway through the recitation, however, something happened that wasn’t normal for me.

I got distracted.

Walking behind Dr. Josephs was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde. She looked to be only a few inches shorter than my own six feet, but some of those came from a pair of sexy high heels. They not only gave her height but made her legs look amazing.

The amazing didn’t stop there, though. She had the sort of curves that drew my attention enough that I completely forgot that I was talking to someone about something important. I probably couldn’t have even told anyone my name at that moment. When she finally disappeared from my line of sight, I found Dr. Josephs looking at me with an expectant expression.

Shit.

Even though I hated to admit that I hadn’t heard him, I wasn’t going to make the mistake of trying to answer a question I hadn’t processed correctly. I didn’t, however, feel like I had to tell him exactly why I’d been so distracted.

“I’m sorry. My mind got away from me for a minute.”

“No apologies necessary,” Dr. Josephs said with a wide smile. “I often have similar experiences when, in the middle of a conversation, I’ll suddenly come to a new understanding of symbolism in The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. By the time I emerge from that near-trancelike state, fifteen minutes have passed, and I find myself alone, waxing eloquent about James Joyce.”

Strange, but a nice guy.

“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind repeating the last couple things you said, I’ll have an answer for you.”

For the next twenty minutes, Dr. Josephs and I kept on topic, and by the time he excused himself to speak to the head of the English department, I was feeling pretty good about how the whiskey had been received. The only people who hadn’t liked the whiskey were the two professors who had told Dr. Josephs that they weren’t really big fans of alcohol in general. That balanced out the three wine drinkers who’d been pleasantly surprised that they’d actually enjoyed something new and non-fruity.

All of that meant that I was one step closer to closing the deal, and I should’ve been thrilled.

I was thrilled.

I was also trying to find that blonde again, something that was made increasingly difficult by the number of people who decided that they wanted to know who the unfamiliar face was. Normally, I’d have been thrilled at all the networking, but now, it was just annoying.

By the time everyone had gathered near the insanely large grandfather clock to watch the last five minutes of the year count down, I’d seen the blonde three more times. Once, I’d been close enough to see that she had heart-stopping clear blue eyes, and I thought she smiled at me that time too.

Then, suddenly, she was a foot to my right, draining a glass of champagne and giving the entire room a bored sweep. Bored until her eyes met mine. She raised a single eyebrow, and that was all it took for me to close the distance between us. Even though the room wasn’t loud, I still leaned close to put my mouth next to her ear before speaking.

Damn, she smelled good.

“If I kiss you at midnight, will your partner hit me?”

She looked up at me, lips twitching with amusement. “Partner?”

I shrugged and grinned. “I make no assumptions about a person’s sexuality.”

She considered me for a moment. “And how do you know I wouldn’t hit you if you kiss me?”

I wasn’t surprised at the sharp wit. Stanford, after all. I was surprised, however, by how much the banter turned me on.

“If you say no, I’ll respect that.” I took in her full expression, her body language, and then took a little risk by brushing my arm against hers. When she didn’t step back or tell me to leave her alone, I knew I’d read her correctly. “But I’d really like to kiss you in twenty seconds.”

She waited ten of those twenty before placing a hand on my arm. “All right. You better be worth it.”

My smile widened. It’d been a long time since someone had issued a challenge that I’d wanted to rise to this badly.

“Five.”

I placed my hand on the side of her neck, ran my thumb along her jaw.

“Four.”

I didn’t take my eyes off hers.

“Three.”

I leaned down, moving slowly, giving her time to change her mind if she wanted to.

“Two.”

My mouth hovered over hers, and it felt like no one else was in the room.

“One.”

Fireworks.

Not literal ones, but it sure as hell felt that way. Electricity crackled between us, and I let the kiss linger longer than I’d intended, lips moving together as if we’d kissed a thousand times before.

The sedated cheering and clapping finally broke through, and I straightened, letting my hand fall from her face. She looked almost as dazed as I felt.

“I’m Brody.”

She collected herself in a heartbeat before smiling. “Freedom.”

The expectant expression on her face told me that, like several of my siblings, offering her name always invited questions. Instead of being that predictable, I decided to surprise her and head straight for what I’d known I wanted the second her lips touched mine.

“Are you interested in ringing in the New Year back at my hotel?”

Another sly look, but this one was tinged with that surprise I’d been trying for. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t see the point.”

She gave me a hard look that confirmed my suspicion that she was far more than just a pretty face and a great body. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

“I’m not looking to be one.”

She examined my face for another few seconds before nodding. “Good. We’re on the same page.” Her eyes sparkled. “Lead on.”

I made a note to thank my siblings for not insisting that I stay with them while I was here. I had a feeling Freedom wasn’t going to be a quiet lover.

Discover my newest release Single Malt HERE.