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Scarlett Series Box Set (Book 1- 3)

Scarlett Series Box Set (Book 1- 3)

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This is a box set of books 1-3 from the New Song Series.  Books are delivered by Bookfunnel for reading on any device. 

Scarlett Baby

Yuri Scarlett had to work hard for everything that he had. He wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth like his best friend Ricky. But he was rich in other things, he had a loving family and he had Marla. His perfect girl. His childhood sweetheart. His one true love.

When Marla mysteriously marries Ricky, Yuri felt gutted and betrayed by both of them.

So it came as a surprise when Ricky who is wheelchair-bound and unable to have children, makes the preposterous suggestion to Yuri that he donate his sperm to the couple in exchange for a business loan.

Yuri had to give it some serious thought, would he be comfortable with Marla having his baby? And had he really gotten over her after all these years? 

Scarlett Sinner

You wanted Erin! You pig! And now you have her child. I wish for you a nice life with your son!

Troy Scarlett realizes the hard way that some sins are bound to be revealed, like the child that he had out of wedlock with Erin, his wife's mortal enemy from college.

Chelsea Scarlett was not happy with the status quo. She thought she was happily married to Troy for the past five years, but his secret child was not a part of the bargain. She was not taking care of the son of the woman she had so despised in college, nor was she ever going to play happy family with the woman's son.

Will they ever be a family again or is the hurt too great for Chelsea? 

Scarlett Secret

It was just for three days. Terri Scarlett hoped to rescue her friend, Lola Montega, from a life of doom, aka marriage to Prince Hamad Al Jerza. It was a simple plan. Terri would impersonate Lola and convince the old fashioned monarch to set her free from their arranged marriage.

And Lola?

She was to stay put in Treasure Beach and not interact with anyone. What on earth could go wrong with such a simple and well-thought-out plan?

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Good friend, why did you have to go... The Kenny Rogers song that belted across the expanse of the yard held his heart tightly and squeezed.
Yuri sat heavily in one of the white plastic chairs that his mother had thoughtfully placed around the yard. His eyes were stinging, and he swiped his hand over them impatiently. He was bone tired. It was a long journey from Kingston and his tedious middle management job. He had a headache, heartache, a toothache, all of him ached... Excuses.
He held his head down. He was determined not to let the tears fall. He was sure if he tried to think about something else the song would release its hold on him, but it kept pulsing through his head.
He breathed a sigh of relief and inhaled a refreshing gulp of air when the verse faded away...and in my memories, you'll always be a good, good friend to me... He had barely, just barely saved himself from an embarrassing crying jag.
He was relieved when his cousin, who seemed to be standing in as the deejay, put in a Temptations album and left it to play. But even that was nostalgic, especially when he heard the first notes from Soul to Soul. If he was so tearful now, he wondered how he was going to hold up tomorrow at the burial.
Burial. He hated the word. And he hated it even more when it was attached to his grandfather. Dolby Scarlett had always been more than family. He had been a really good friend to him. They had shared countless memories and numerous confidences, but now he was gone. Though why he should feel the grief so sharply he didn't know. His grandfather had a good inning, one hundred years old — a solid century.
Maybe he was feeling so ripped up inside because he had not been able to get time off from his job to come home and see Pops one last time. Six months ago, when he had returned home, he had poured out all of his confused feelings and maddening failings to Pops, and his grandfather had confidently told him that it would all work out. He wished that he had had a more upbeat conversation with Pops that last time.
"Want a drink, honey?" his mother asked, looking at him sympathetically. "You haven't had anything to eat or drink since you arrived."
"No thanks, Mom." His voice was low and choked up. "When I’m ready I'll come and get it and maybe socialize then."
His mother patted his hand and moved away, too busy with the scores of people who were trailing into the yard to question him further.
He watched the buzzing activity but felt detached from it. In this community, a death in the family warranted some amount of preparation. And Pops was so well known that on the eve of the big sendoff it was almost like a party. His parents had set up a shed where people were cooking; he recognized that Fred was leading the procedures there. He was the official dead yard cook. He was stirring a pot almost as tall as he was; the scent of the goat head soup wafted to where he was sitting.
He spotted family members he hadn't seen in ages. They were gathering around in clusters. He overheard conversations about grave digging and which suit they would put Pops in for the viewing. Yuri avoided eye contact with anyone who would want to involve him in their decisions.
He answered greetings in a desultory manner, even had a conversation with a family friend or two and watched as the late June sun bathed the spacious yard in a mellow yellowed hue. It was, ironically, the perfect evening to be in Treasure Beach. It was not too hot yet, nor was it cool—June had just begun. It was just right. The skies were endlessly blue, with not a cloud in sight.
His family had always lived in this spot in Great Bay. The half-acre of shrubland was located a few feet from the sea. It was rocky in some places, fertile in others.
Through the years they had wrangled with the stony soil and deleterious effects of the wind and had managed to get a few trees growing.
He was sitting under one now, a red plum tree. Its gnarled limbs were devoid of leaves. It was that time of the year when it would shed; in a few weeks it would be loaded with leaves, and then the juicy red plums would take over the tree. His grandfather had loved to munch on them.
He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He heard the gentle lapping of the sea a few yards from where he was sitting, the buzz of chatter near the house, a dog barking, somebody coughing, his father's voice and then his sister's finer, sweeter tones responding to something that his father said, and then the lump of grief that was stuck in his throat subsided.
He felt a shadow before him, and he opened his eyes slowly.
Terri was standing before him. She had a drink in her hand; she pushed it at him.
"What is it?" Yuri asked, his voice husky.
"Fruit juice. Daddy blended it for you."
"Ah." Yuri took a sip and then drained the cup’s contents into his mouth. It was good. His father always did a mean fruit juice.
Terri pulled a chair and sat beside him. "You left your bag on the veranda; that's how I knew you were here."
"Sorry." Yuri sighed. "I couldn't go into the house. I felt a bit..."
"Overwhelmed," Terri finished for him, "crazy with grief. I understand. Though I am sure with how tight you and Pops were, this must be worse for you than anyone else, even Daddy."
Yuri nodded. He didn't have to respond. He glanced at his sister; the sun bathed her in a golden glow. He realized that he hadn't seen Terri for months now, and he hadn't even greeted her properly.
"Hey," he smiled at her.
Terri smiled back; she was a strikingly good-looking woman. She had dark brown skin, clay red hair and light hazel eyes.
Grandfather's eyes.
The only one in the family to get them as far as he knew. One could never tell how many Scarletts there were because of Peter Scarlett, his grandfather's youngest child. It was said that Peter sired quite a few children. It was just last year that he met his cousin, Oliver.
And Grandfather's hair. The red-brown combination was prominent with Pop's brothers and sisters and their offspring. His little niece Dahlia had gotten it too.
"How long have you been here?"
"I came in last night." Terri sighed, "I am flying out tomorrow after the funeral."
"That sucks," Yuri murmured.
"No, it's fine. At least I got the time off." Terri grimaced, "I am sort of getting weary of the job."
"You were so excited when you started last year." Yuri grinned. "You were going places, France, Switzerland and all over. What changed?"
"The thrill wore off." Terri shrugged. "Enough about me, tell me about you. You look as if you aren't sleeping much."
"True." Yuri nodded. "I know I look like hell."
"No, never. Stop fishing for compliments, Big Head." Terri elbowed him. "You have always been seriously good-looking and even though you are my brother I can see that you have a little Shemar Moore thing going on."
Yuri chuckled. "Well, thanks."
"So answer. Why are you looking like lukewarm porridge?" Terri asked. "Apart from the fact that we are here for the funeral and the fact that you always look gutted when you come back here, whether it's a funeral or a wedding. Remember Troy's wedding? You sat in a corner, and you looked whipped like some evil pixie had given you a beating."
He remembered Troy's wedding. His little brother had gotten married five years ago, two days before Marla and Ricky's wedding. Of course, he had been gutted. He had been best man at both affairs, and he had thought that he had hidden his displeasure quite well.
But of course, Terri had made it her personal job to psychoanalyze him and probe into his mind and had seen how devastated he had been at the time, even though he thought he had acted pretty well, considering.
"Is there a point to this?" Yuri looked at his sister in disgust.
Terri's eyes brightened considerably when she saw his expression. "That’s much better—you look less woebegone when you have that battle light in your eyes."
Yuri kissed his teeth. "Whatever."
"So why are you so sad looking?" Terri prompted.
Yuri gave her an assessing look. "This is strictly between us. You can't tell Mom and Dad, or Troy."
"As if," Terri snorted. "When have I ever let out a confidence?"
"You told everyone that I liked Marla."
"For goodness’ sakes, Yuri. You were fifteen. I was ten. Besides, the whole family knew, the neighborhood knew. I am pretty sure that one look at you and everybody in the world would have known! That was thirteen years ago." Terri looked at him slyly. "You still like her, don't you…after all these years?"
"No!" Yuri protested quickly. "No, of course not; she's married to my best friend."
"Ricardo Mills is not worthy to be called your friend." Terri snorted. "Why you still have him in your life is beyond me."
"He likes to keep in touch," Yuri murmured, "so we keep in touch."
"He likes to torture you and let you know that he won…that he got the girl," Terri said harshly. "I am absolutely not sorry that he had that accident and was paralyzed…that should keep the loud mouthed-bully humble."
"Terri!" Yuri looked at her sharply. "I was responsible for that accident!"
"No, you weren’t. He wants you to think so," Terri said stubbornly. "You know what, enough of this. You were going to tell me something before we went down this road."
"I don't feel like telling you anything anymore," Yuri grumbled.
"You'd better," Terri pinched him, "or else I am going to gently suggest to Mommy that you look like hell and it's not because you are grieving. Then Mommy will hound you and call you all hours of the day and night, finding out if you have eaten and if you have brushed your teeth, if you are overworking and..."
"Okay, threat received and processed." Yuri grinned. "She stopped doing that to you yet?"
"Nope." Terri smiled. "It has gotten a little better though. I think I have passed the adult test because I am a flight attendant now."
Yuri looked up at the tree limbs and then at Terri. "The company where I work is selling out. Three of the guys are planning to buy it from the owner. They asked me if I wanted in. It is a good deal. They sell electronic circuit boards, and the software division that I manage is on the cusp of a few breakthroughs. So, this would be a, not just good... an excellent deal."
"So, what's wrong?" Terri asked innocently as if she had forgotten that the Scarletts were not exactly the richest people in the world.
Yuri laughed. "Terri, I can barely afford my rent, and I am still paying back student loans. Where would I find millions of dollars to buy into this venture? Unlike the other guys, I am not from a wealthy background."
Terri nodded. "I see."
"It has been keeping me up at nights." Yuri clenched and unclenched his fingers. "I talked to Grandpa about it couple months ago too..."
"Really?" Terri said, "Why am I not surprised? You tell him everything."
"I got a bit desperate and talked to Ricky about it too."
"Why?" Terri's voice got frosty. "Of all the people in the world…really?"
"He's rich," Yuri said simply, "and he is my friend. You keep forgetting that."
"He wouldn't lift a finger if you were in trouble." Terri pointed out. "He is a phony who for some strange reason wants everything you have or want, which is very puzzling to me since he is the one that was born with a silver spoon in his mouth."
Yuri sighed. "He said he would help."
"A deal with the devil," Terri snorted. "What does he want in return, service from your unborn children, a right hand and a foot, no...wait, bet he wants you to paralyze yourself too so that the two of you can be equals."
"He wants a baby." Yuri sighed. "Well, Marla wants a baby. And instead of some strange sperm donor and all the works, they want my sperm. Someone they know and trust."
There was silence after his statement.
Terri looked like she was finding it hard to process what he said.
"Terri," Yuri prompted in the silence.
"Don't." Terri swallowed, her face serious and tense. "Do not do it; let Ricky find some other sucker to give him a baby."
"I didn't say I would," Yuri rebuked her gently. "It wouldn't be right."
"He is just looking for a way to torture you because you are no longer under his spell. You escaped the country and seeing him and Marla together, you are now living in Kingston far away from him, and he doesn't know what you are doing. So, he has to find some way of hanging on to you from afar.
"He is so obsessed with controlling you that he wants a child by you and the woman that you love to make him feel better about himself." Terri was roiled up. "Poor little rich boy Ricky Mills has all the wealth in the world, but he can't be Yuri Scarlett. He's obsessed!"
Yuri had never seen Ricky the way that Terri did, and he was quite taken aback by Terri's assessment of the situation. But despite her disdain for Ricky he was still tempted to do it. How else could he come up with thirty million dollars? He didn't know anybody else who would be willing to give him that amount of money or even hear the figure and not gasp in astonishment.
Ricky had just calmly asked him when he wanted the money. Just like that. No fanfare, no questions; he hadn't even explained what the company was about or his plan to pay him back.
Was it really a deal with the devil, as Terri had so dramatically put it? He wished he had his grandfather to discuss this with. He hadn't gotten the chance to in the last couple of weeks when Pops got sick; it wouldn't have been fair to burden him with his problems.
He couldn't tell his parents. His mother was a worrier, and this sort of problem would be beyond their comprehension. They were poor country folks; telling them that he needed thirty million dollars was like speaking another language.
His father was a farmer and his mother a housewife, and it was only just last year that they had even finished the house. The four-bedroom structure had stood half-finished for years, a sore in the eyes of the community, but his parents had not been able to afford to fix it up. They had sacrificed and sent all three of their children through college. Education before aesthetics was his mother's constant mantra.
"Here comes company," Terri whispered, breaking into his reverie.
Yuri looked across the yard, all the way to the front, and his heart skipped a beat. Marla was parking her BMW beside his battered Ford Escort.
"It took her long enough to show up," Terri murmured. "Maybe she just heard that you arrived, or maybe evil Ricky has finally let her out of the house. You know, it wouldn't surprise me if he told her not to fraternize with us common folks."
Yuri didn't respond. He had long hardened his heart against having feelings for Marla. He had long mastered the art of only showing her a friendly face.
But now, just now, when she climbed out of the car in her khaki shorts and her white vest top, showing off her honey-gold skin, he had a lapse.
A brief lapse.
He was thinking of her carrying his baby, and he had to admit to himself that this was not the first time he had done so. This very thought was what was keeping him up at nights. Every night. Maybe more than the money or buying into the company.