Read Online Books/Novels:

Winning His Wife (Baby Daddy University #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

B.B. Hamel

Book Information:

Baby Daddy University: Power. Wealth. Babies.

You don’t come to Gradus University for the education….
You come to get knocked up by a rich, gorgeous bachelor!

Gradus University is the pinnacle of wealth and privilege.
I’m only here because a man decided to sponsor my education.
His name is Reed Wright, the gorgeous heir to an old money fortune.
And without him, I couldn’t afford a school like Gradus.

Unfortunately, there’s a dark little secret:
Gradus isn’t just about education.
It’s about landing rich, elite, wealthy men.
They tell me I’m supposed to marry him…
… and maybe let him knock me up.
But we barely know each other.
I mean, this can’t be for real, right?
Baby Daddy University can’t be serious…
Except Reed seems very intent on getting exactly what he wants.

I don’t want to play their game.
Too bad though, because these girls are playing for real.
If I want to keep my scholarship, I’d better start impressing my sponsor.
And it takes a lot to impress a man like Reed.

Maybe it isn’t so bad to give in to a filthy rich older man like Reed.
Especially when I can’t seem to keep my hands off him…

Baby Daddy University… where the rich get married and the students get knocked up.

Oh yeah! Baby Daddy University time! I can’t explain how much fun I had writing this. If you love crazy alpha love, over the top academy/university romance with a little hint of some bullying, this is the book for you. It’s steamy, funny, safe, and of course ends with a sweet HEA! Go ahead, enjoy yourself some Baby Daddy University.

Note: All my books are singles and can be read in any order.

Books in Series:

Baby Daddy University Series by B.B. Hamel

Books by Author:

B.B. Hamel Books

Prologue: Reed





The words are carved into stone.

Literally. The archway entrance into Gradus University’s library has those words emblazoned in it, the school motto. I always found it a little too on-the-nose, but who am I to judge hundreds of years of tradition?

Nobody, apparently. I don’t want to be here but I’m also powerless to stop it. As a son of a powerful family, I’m expected to show up for The Draft.

I’m expect to choose my future wife from a list of girls without ever meeting them. Like they’re cattle and I’m just looking to buy.

Of course, that’s more or less what I’m doing. My father’s very, very sizable donation to Gradus University will ensure my position in this year’s Draft, along with nine other rich and powerful men of means.

I sigh and head into the library. I’m late but it doesn’t matter. They won’t go on without me.

I head through the library, down along the wooden floors that echo with every step. The walls are either bare stone or plaster and the bookshelves are richly carved wood. Everything’s polished to an absurd gleam and it’s more like a rich man’s study than an actual school library.

I shouldn’t let appearances knock me off my game. Gradus is a real school, there’s no doubt about that. Not every girl that attends Gradus University knows about the Draft, although many girls attend exactly because of it. Those are the ones I’ll have to be careful of.

But Gradus is a real school. It’s a liberal arts college, in fact, a tiny little all-girls school nested in the hills of Vermont, hidden away from the real world by miles and miles of beautiful trees and winding roads. Gradus was a finishing school for the elite and wealthy for many years, but they converted into a college during the twenties in order to keep up with the times. They admit real students, girls that are just here to learn and to get a degree.

But every year, ten girls are chosen. Those girls are drafted to a man and given special privileges on campus. Free room, free board, free tuition. Private spaces, private tutors, better food, better everything. They’re pampered, taken care of, and eventually…

Well, shit. Eventually they’re married off to the man that chose them.

I round the corner and find the very back of the library is an open half-circle. In the middle of the space is a long table with men sitting around it, some of them I recognize, and some of them are new faces. Half of them turn to look at me, mostly looking bored, although one or two are outright hostile.

The man at the head of the table is a short person with a half-bald head and thick, wire-rimmed spectacles. “Ah, there he is,” Mortimer Trim says, the dean of Gradus University. “We were beginning to get impatient.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “My turn already?”

“Three men have chosen,” he notes. “And now you’re up, number four.” He gestures at the table in front of him. “Time to throw the dice, so to speak.”

Trim giggles with delight as I approach. The man closest to me glares up into my eyes, a thick man with dark hair and a thick beard. I glance at him and wonder what he’s so mad about, but I’m guessing he hasn’t chosen yet.

I stand at the table and look at the photographs covering it. Each picture is a headshot of a girl, some of them beautiful, some of them plain, but each and every one of them is an incoming freshman. Beneath the picture is a short rundown of their information: family name, height, weight, GPA, net worth. As if those attributes are all that matter.

I clench my fists. I hate this, I hate it so fucking much I could puke.

These men are paying for the privilege to choose and court a woman from this pile of pictures. From what I understand, it’s incredibly rare for a man to choose a girl and not end up married to her. There are rules to this game, of course, and nobody can force a chosen girl to do anything she doesn’t want to do…

But why wouldn’t she want to marry some rich and powerful man that just wants to take care of her?

That’s where Gradus got its nickname. The Baby Daddy University. Come to the Baby Daddy University and leave with a rich older man to spoil you for the rest of your life.

That’s the dream they sell these girls. At least the ones that know about the Draft.

I despise it. I hate everything about this system. It assumes these girls want to be involved. It treats them like…

Like nothing. Like they don’t matter.

I sift through the pile, although I don’t need to. Trim sent the pictures and bios ahead of time already to speed this process up. I do it for show though, lingering on a few girls. Pretty girls with good family names and very high net worth. I see a few guys flinch as my fingers touch the girl they probably hope to pick.