Arman joined me. “Let’s head to the private cove so we can be alone.”
Our first kiss. My lips burned like it had just happened. We’d gone there so my parents wouldn’t find me, and I’d been tempted to know him intimately.
The years hadn’t been kind to me. I hoped that wouldn’t get in the way of our practical future. I lifted my shoulder. “I’m being invited to your private beach?”
He pressed his hand on my back as we walked onto the beach. “You always had a pass.”
That sounded nice. I needed to keep my head straight, though. I took my sneakers off and let my toes curl into the sand. He left his light sweater and T-shirt on a rock. Those muscles of his were defined. My nipples under my well-padded bra hardened at the sight. He was even sexier now, but he’d always starred in my what-if dreams.
I glanced away and pretended this wasn’t heaven. “So, are all your brothers visiting this summer?”
Drat, I already asked that. He’d told me the night before. I jerked and half expected Bob to tell me I was an idiot.
However, Arman didn’t even blink. “No, just the weekend, to celebrate Mom’s birthday and Joel’s new marriage surprise. Now, Mâmân has ammo to convince the rest of us to get married and give her grandchildren.”
Once again, he was different and not like my father or Bob. As we stepped inside the fairy-tale cove of my dreams, I only said, “At least it’s not your dad. It’s harder to say no that way. He was the one who ordered me to break up with you that summer.”
“He wasn’t my biggest fan.”
Being understated but classy was another of Arman’s great qualities. The slight waterfall on the hard rock continued like no time had passed, and the waves of the beach lulled me into memories. We headed out of the sea cave to the private beach surrounded by the rocks. The cave let in natural light from the open ceiling. When I needed to calm down, this was a place I still visited in my mind.
The smell of the salty air hit me again as he asked, “Is that why you married years ago?”
The question played out in my mind like the wrong chord on a guitar. I hugged my waist. “Doesn’t matter.” I’d tried to love Bob once I said yes, and being open had shattered me.
Arman walked onto the beach, wearing his gray cotton pants that had to cost more than everything I owned. I put my phone on a rock, edged closer to the water, and called out, “What matters is that you’re not wearing a bathing suit.”
He came back and picked me up like I was still a girl. “I’ll just buy more shorts and you an outfit before I take you home.”
The water lapped closer to me. I crawled onto Arman to stay dry, but then he let me go. Water rushed around me, and as I emerged, wet, I shook my hair. “I can’t believe you just dropped me in.”
He laughed. “The water’s warm, and you’re a good swimmer.”
Once upon a time, I’d been a good swimmer. This was my first return to the blue waters, and somehow, the moment was freeing. With Arman, maybe I could be carefree again.
USA TODAY bestselling author Victoria Pinder moved cross country and now lives in Denver though her books always take her right back to Miami, where she lived for years. She’s currently expecting another baby and raising the first one, both of whom inspire her writing. Somewhere in between using drama to make her humdrum days seem more interesting and falling in love with happily-ever-afters to offer hope to her readers, she takes to her fictional world where all her characters in Miami might mention or meet each other in one huge world and discovers what her bold heroine and her brainy, sexy hero might need to really find true love. You can follow her on twitter @VictoriaPinder
Roman Campbell. Wild Child. Rebel. Rockstar. Broken.
At the age of twenty-eight, Roman Campbell has the world at his feet. Young, successful, and brutally beautiful, his facade of an uber-cool rockstar hides deep scars that have tormented him for years. After finally putting the pieces of his broken life back together, Roman attends the wedding of his famous movie star friend Carter Wilson in Twilight Falls, where he meets Drake Jackson. Their attraction is instantaneous and Roman hooks up with the sexy builder for one intoxicating night.
Drake Jackson. Wickedly Hot. Serial Heartbreaker. Reformed (mostly) Bad Boy.
Having put behind his difficult childhood, Drake Jackson is content with his life. His one regret remains his lost chance at a relationship with his childhood friend Alex. After a torrid encounter with Roman at Carter’s wedding leaves Drake hungry for more, the builder believes he will never set eyes on the famous rockstar again. But when Roman buys the property Drake had long coveted in Twilight Falls right from under his nose and hires Drake as his contractor, Drake realizes trouble has come to find him with a capital T.
Sparks fly and the two men soon commit to a temporary arrangement that sees them satisfying their carnal desire for one another. But when Roman’s past comes crashing back into his life and his secrets are revealed, Drake finds himself experiencing a lot more than just desire for Roman. Will Drake finally accept the feelings growing inside his heart? Or will he reject Roman’s love and repeat the mistakes of his past?
Join Drake and Roman in this wildly addictive fifth installment in Twilight Falls, the new series by the author of the bestselling, contemporary, gay romance series Nights.
Content Note: this book contains sensitive content that may be upsetting to some readers. Please refer to the page at the start of the book for more information.
Roman Campbell took a sip of his sparkling water and observed the two men taking to the floor for their first dance as a married couple.
Carter Wilson and Elijah Davis looked blissfully happy as they swayed to a classic Sinatra song, fingers interlocked and arms around one another while their bodies brushed sensuously. It was clear to everyone in the marquee that the grooms only had eyes for each other.
A twinge of jealousy stabbed through Roman at the happiness radiating on the two men’s faces. Carter laughed at something Elijah said and took his husband’s mouth in a hot kiss that had their guests clapping and wolf-whistling.
The newlyweds turned and extended their hands toward a pretty little blond girl in a cream taffeta and lace dress who stood watching them from the sidelines. Maisie, Carter’s niece and his and Elijah’s newly adopted daughter, squealed and ran out to join them. The couple caught her into their arms and resumed their dance, their mouths split in beaming smiles.
Roman swallowed a grimace.
I really am an asshole. I should be happy for them.
He’d been somewhat surprised to receive an invite to what was being touted as the most exclusive celebrity wedding of the year. Though he was friends with Carter, they hadn’t spoken for a while, their busy lives meaning their paths rarely crossed except at social events.
They’d met five years ago, at an exclusive sex club in L.A. It was the kind of place where the world-famous clientele could indulge in their private desires and fantasies to their heart’s content, without fear of their secrets becoming fodder for the paparazzi.
It had been Roman’s first time at the club. He’d hit on Carter the minute he’d walked inside the place, not realizing that the tall man with the dirty blond hair and the body to die for was the A-list Hollywood actor who had practically dominated entertainment news ever since he exploded on the movie scene with his first blockbuster.
Though Carter had flirted with Roman, he hadn’t obliged his invitation to visit one of the club’s private suites for some down and dirty time. He had, however, kept a close eye on him.
Roman had been more than a little drunk and high on drugs when he’d made the impulsive decision to visit the club that night and hook up with a stranger, a fact he had been lambasted for at length when his manager and best friend James Lang turned up and dragged him from the place a couple of hours later.
“At least you had the decency to pick somewhere the paparazzi couldn’t find you!” James had snapped the next morning while Roman lay recovering from his monumental hangover on the sundeck of his L.A. penthouse. “It’s a good thing Carter messaged me when he did.”
“Carter?” Roman had frowned at the unfamiliar name. “Who the hell is Carter? And could you pipe down? This headache is killing me,” he’d added on a groan.
James had clenched and unclenched his hands in a way that told Roman he’d wished they were wrapped around Roman’s neck.
“Carter is the guy you were hitting on last night,” James had explained icily. “He’s a friend of mine.” He’d paused and narrowed his eyes at Roman, a muscle dancing in his cheek. “That headache isn’t the only thing that’s gonna kill you, Roman. You need to cut back on the booze and the drugs. You’re not just ruining your health. You’re sabotaging your career!”
The guilt and anger that had rotted Roman’s insides for as long as he could remember flared into life and had his mouth curving in a nasty smile.
“Are you saying that as my best friend or as my manager?”
The hurt in James’s eyes had Roman immediately regretting his harsh words.
“I’m sorry,” Roman had mumbled in the stiff silence. “I promise I won’t do anything like this again.”
James had watched him for a moment before blowing out a heavy sigh. They’d both known it was a lie.
It wouldn’t be another two years until Roman finally kept his word. By then, the whole of L.A. and the world knew that the lead singer of Crazyknot was damaged goods.
Paradoxically, Roman’s soul-crushing fall from grace only boosted sales of their albums and propelled the band to international stardom. It also turned him into an overnight icon, one he’d assumed the entertainment industry would soon forget. Which made his and Crazyknot’s shockingly successful comeback twelve months ago all the more humbling. Apparently, the world loved nothing more than seeing a former bad boy reform.
Roman’s lips tilted in a self-deprecating smile. Well, almost reform.
He might have ditched the alcohol and the drugs. It didn’t mean he’d turned into a monk. He scanned the marquee, the restless feeling that had been gnawing at his insides a sure-fire sign that he needed to let off some steam in a way that didn’t involve getting intoxicated.
Now, let’s find a guy I can have some fun with.
“I know that look,” someone said next to him.
Roman closed his eyes briefly. He twisted on the bar stool and studied the man who’d taken the seat beside him with a faint frown.
James Lang looked his usual cool and elegant self in a bottle green tuxedo that matched his eyes and framed specs.
Roman pursed his lips.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d known James for thirteen years and had seen him puke his guts up on more occasions than he could count when they were teenagers, he might have taken a stab at the guy. James was attractive in the kind of way that made people pause and wonder what lay beneath the impeccable suits and hard exterior.
The only ones who truly knew the infamous manager were the members of Crazyknot and their close friends. For behind the cool, controlled facade James projected burned a fiery and surprisingly passionate soul.
To this day, Roman didn’t know what had turned the outgoing and fun-loving boy he had come to know during what had been the most challenging years of his teenage life, into the stern and reserved man who now sat facing him. It had happened shortly after their first national tour.
Roman and the other members of Crazyknot had long questioned James about his almost overnight transformation, but the manager had always remained tight-lipped on the subject.
“Oh yeah?” Roman grumbled presently. “And what kind of look am I wearing, pray tell?”
James arched an eyebrow. He took a sip of his champagne before leaning in closer. “The kind that says you’re looking for a good fuck.”
Choked off laughter erupted close by.
James stiffened and looked over Roman’s head.
Roman turned, a frown on his face and his mouth parting on a biting remark.
His breath locked in his throat.
Gunmetal blue eyes sparkled with mirth opposite him. Though the stranger straddled the bar stool in a relaxed pose, Roman could tell he was tall and would tower over him by a good few inches. His overlong, sun-kissed brown hair teased the collar of his classic, black tuxedo, the suit doing little to hide the hard angles and solid muscles beneath the expensive material. Silver peppered his short beard and sideburns, framing a rugged, tanned face that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of an outdoor sports magazine. His fingers were hard and callused where he held a half-empty beer bottle.
The man smiled and tipped his drink at them with a nonchalant dip of his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here for the beer.”
Roman’s cock stirred. He swallowed.
Fuck. Mr. Sideburns was one hundred percent his type. And he looked exactly like the kind of trouble Roman needed to avoid tonight.
A.M. Salinger is the pen name of an Amazon bestselling author who has always wanted to write scorching hot contemporary romance and M/M urban fantasy. In 2018, she finally decided to venture to the steamy side. NIGHTS and TWILIGHT FALLS are contemporary M/M romance series written as A.M. Salinger. In 2021, she launches FALLEN MESSENGERS, her first M/M urban fantasy series written as Ava Marie Salinger. When she’s not dreaming up hotties to write about, you’ll find Ava creating kickass music playlists to write to, spying on the wildlife in her garden, drooling over gadgets, and eating Chinese.
Ghosts, corpses and four hot men—what’s a girl to do?
Abandoned at three—whose parents want a kid who sees ghosts?—I learned the world is quick to punish misfits. I try my best to be a normal, boring human, but the call of the supernatural just won’t be ignored.
When a stranger shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, it’s no sexy tryst. Instead, I’m off to the graveyard, digging up the corpse of a murder victim at the demand of the local vampire coven—and that small felony is just the start.
The spirit of the woman has gone missing—something that shouldn’t be possible—and everyone is looking to me for answers. There’s Kase, a vampire who’s both terrifying and secretive. Grant, a mage with a bad attitude and a lot of power. Troy, the possessive werewolf-detective next door and Hunter, a mysterious bad boy who isn’t even close to human.
It’s a race not just against time but against everything to figure out where the spirits are going, who’s behind it and if I can trust the men who now share my bed.
Hunter didn’t remove his hand from my mouth. It made me realize he was also entirely pressed against me, and despite it not being possible, he felt better than he’d looked. His skin was warm, even through my robe.
He took his hand off my mouth but didn’t move away. “Stay still,” he whispered against my ear.
“Why? Is it coming back?”
“No. I just really like looking down your robe.”
As soon as his words sank in, when I moved past the adrenaline and the purr of his voice, I realized that yes, my robe had bagged open and he had a perfect view down the front.
I elbowed him, but he didn’t seem to even feel it. He released me, though the way he did it implied my little move hadn’t meant a thing.
“I am so tired of people breaking into my house,” I said.
“You aren’t human, and you don’t have any wards. That’s the same as a ‘come on in’ sign in our world.”
“I am human.”
“Sure, shadow-girl.” He sent me a conspiratorial wink, as if we were on the joke together.
“No, I actually am. No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Human.” I pointed at my face as though that drove the point home.
He waved at himself. “No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Very much not human. Sure, though, if you want to pretend, I’m not one to turn down a bit of good roleplay. You want to be innocent Little Red Riding Hood? I’ll play the wolf.”
His suggestion derailed me. How could it not? Any girl who claimed she hadn’t had entirely inappropriate dreams about the wolf in that story was a damned liar. Once I’d reached a certain age, ‘all the better to eat you with’ had taken on a very different meaning.
I pictured a dark, heavily wooded forest as I ran, something on my heels, gaining ground. His warm breath on my neck when he caught me…
Suddenly I didn’t care what he’d said, why he was there or what exactly he meant by him ‘not being human’.
Until I recalled he’d broken in, and clearly him showing up at my office wasn’t a coincidence.
He snorted. “I liked where your mind was going before.”
“What are you doing here? And what was that thing?”
“Don’t we have better things to discuss? Or we can do away with talking all together.”
“I don’t sleep with people who might kill me, but thanks.”
“If someone might not kill you, are they even worth sleeping with in the first place?”
Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing.
