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eBook Category: Romance/Humor
eBook Description: Sexy billionaire Tyler Atwood brought steel back to Philadelphia, but he can't control his late sister's dog, Harvey. Pet psychologist Courtney Zane just might be the answer, but he needs full-time help and he's willing to pay for it. He has to pull some strings to get Courtney kicked out of her office, but it's for her own good, right? When Tyler starts to fall for Courtney, he knows he needs to come clean--but by then it's too late. The CEO's S.O.S. is a funny and sexy romance--with pets.

eBook Publisher: BooksForABuck, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2006

43 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [950 KB], eReader (PDB) [171 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [159 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [143 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [153 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [196 KB], hiebook (KML) [414 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [216 KB], iSilo (PDB) [131 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [164 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [203 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [209 KB]
Words: 47998
Reading time: 137-191 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Tyler Atwood stepped from the cold Philadelphia winter into the biggest wreck he'd ever seen.

The guts from a ten-thousand-dollar leather sofa were strewn over the floor of his living room. In the entryway, his great-grandmother's antique Shaker chair was upended--one leg splintered. Yanked from his bedroom like errant soldiers, every pair of shoes he owned was scattered over the floor--every single one damaged. A Picasso, one of the few family heirlooms to survive his father's bankruptcy, was in shreds.

Worse, from an emergency perspective, the liquor cabinet lay shattered on the floor, broken glass shards glistening like diamonds while a dozen flavors of alcohol soaked into a Persian rug that would never again command the forty thousand dollars he'd paid for it only a month earlier. Not a single bottle of the expensive booze looked intact.

The criminal looked at him with soft brown eyes that belied his guilt.

Also looking at Tyler with beseeching eyes was Marcel Dupuis, dog trainer to the stars. "Thees animal is out of control."

"You think?"

"I cannot cope," Marcel whined. "I quit."

"Good. Because you're fired."

Marcel was the fifth dog expert Tyler had been through in three weeks. The guy was supposed to be the best--he even had his own television show. But Harvey had reduced the man to near hysteria in less than a day.

As Marcel slunk out the door, Tyler grabbed his cell and punched the preprogrammed number for the cleaning service, again, gathered up Harvey's leash, and took the criminal out for his evening walk.

Harvey, Tyler's golden retriever mix, was no better behaved outdoors than in. He wallowed in the grimy snowbanks, yanked on his leash, nipped at Tyler, and then began a serenade that might not wake the dead but would certainly wake every inhabitant of Tyler's posh Philadelphia neighborhood.

Before they made it to the neighborhood park, a blue and white pulled alongside.

The cop rolled down his window. "Neighbors are complaining again, Tyler."

In the three weeks since Harvey had moved in with him, Tyler had gotten to know all of the neighborhood patrol officers. This was Clarence. He liked dogs. Sort of.

"If you expect sympathy, don't look to me," Tyler said. "At least the neighbors have a little distance from the source."

Clarence covered his ears as Harvey let out an especially loud bay-at-the-moon howl and then lunged for the cop car's tire. "I'm afraid this time I'm going to have to cite you."

"There's always some way to make the day worse."

Until three weeks earlier, Tyler had his life under control. He'd gone from nothing at twenty-three to one of the elite in Philadelphia's hoity-toity society at thirty-five. His company, one of the largest specialty steel producers in the world, had more contracts than he could shake a stick at. Thanks to shrewd business and a bit of luck, he'd had money, his pick of beautiful, refined women for dates and casual sex, and a nice home.

Now he had the dog from Hell.

"Maybe you should get rid of that animal," the cop suggested.

Not possible. "I told Amanda I'd take care of Harvey and I'm going to do it if it kills me."

"It just might. When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?"

That was a question Tyler didn't want to consider. "Give me the ticket and let me finish this walk."

Harvey lunged to take Clarence's hand off when the cop reached out with the ticket, but Tyler jerked back on the leash before it was too late. Harvey had tried that trick before.

"You thought about taking him to obedience school?" Clarence asked--once he'd rolled up his window almost all the way.

"Been through four trainers so far. No, five. Dupuis only lasted one day."

The cop shook his head then brightened. "My cousin's best friend is a pet psychologist. You know, consults with the animals to see what makes them tick. Maybe you should see her."

And maybe Tyler should have his own head examined. "You got a name?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Something Zane." He scratched his head. "Courtney, I think." Bit of an oddball but she does know her animals."

Just what Tyler needed. More oddballs in his life.