They used to call me Dirty Donnie because of my. controversial actions in the ring.

I hung up those champ gloves years ago.

Now, they call me Dirty Donnie because I'll take your filthy money and scrub it cleaner than a priest on Sunday.

You see, I'm the Wells Fargo of the underworld. But I don't waltz on Wall Street, I tango in towns you couldn't point out on a map.

I rip through the ass-end of America like a wildfire, building bars, clubs, strip joints. Serving martinis and Cuban cigars with one hand, washing my clients' money with the other.

And when the FBI comes-a-sniffin', I just burn the business to the ground and move onto the next.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

I should have sent Windy Creek up in flames the second I laid eyes on Sheriff Stella.

A cappuccino pocket rocket with more sass than I've had hot dinners.

Too sharp to bribe. Too justice-seeking to look the other way.

A squeaky-clean girl trying to make sense of my dirty world.

Don't dig too deep, officer.

Because otherwise I'll have no choice but to make you filthy.

Dirty Donnie is a 70k-word enemies-to-lovers interracial romance, designed to be devoured as a standalone. It's book 4 in the ALPHAbet Club series.