She’s too good to be true and he’s her worst nightmare…
Sasha Masters Manwaring, the youngest president’s daughter, is satisfied with the path she’s chosen: she lives in picturesque upstate New York, teaches dance, is close to her sisters and stays out of the public eye. But it’s love at first sight for Dan Lawson and when he sweeps her off her feet, there’s nothing she can do about it. Even if her feelings tell her something isn’t right about him.
The phone shrilled into the darkness. Sasha startled awake. With shaky hands, she grabbed it from the nightstand.
“H-hello.”
“Is this Sasha Masters, the owner of DanceWorks?” She’d chosen to use her mother’s last name for privacy when she moved to Rockford.
“It is.” She glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. This wasn’t going to be good.
“Lieutenant Liam Murray here, from The Rockford Fire Department. Your building caught fire, in the bakery. It’s contained on the first floor.”
“Is Mrs. Bruni hurt? Anybody?”
“Nobody’s hurt. But her shop is a mess with a shitlo—oops, sorry, a whole lotta water damage.”
“Oh, no.”
“She’s at the site, now. She gave us your contact information. There’s smoke damage in your studio but you’re one lucky dog. The sprinklers stopped the fire from reaching the second level.”
“Just so no one was hurt. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you. Mrs. Bruni’s all alone.”
“I’ll hurry.”
Throwing on clothes, Sasha thought about calling her sister Hannah, but she was still recovering from her arm surgery and she’d want to come, too. Sasha could handle this by herself.
She took a moment to breathe in and out deeply for calmness, then dashed out to the car. On the short drive she uttered the mantra, “No one’s hurt. No one’s hurt.”
Flashing red lights from police vehicles blocked off the entrance but they let her through. More red lights and the loud rumble of firetrucks greeted her as she arrived at the building and hurried out of the car. A man in tan-and-yellow gear approached her. “Ms. Masters?”
“Yes.”
“Liam Murray. I called you.” He angled his head. “Mrs. Bruni’s over there.”
“Can you tell me how the fire started first? And the extent of the damage?”
“Looks like an electrical outlet sparked in the bakery near the deep frier.”
“That’s terrible.”
“We got here fast and put it out with a special extinguisher. The flames did damage, but the water is the big culprit.”
“Did you explain this to her?”
“Uh-huh. She asked if she did anything wrong.”
“Aw. Poor woman. I’ll go over to her.”
The stalwart widow of a war veteran, Angela Bruni was slump-shouldered and pale. When she saw Sasha, she started to cry. “Cara. My shop.”
It was dark so Sasha couldn’t see inside. “Mi dispiace tanto.” Mrs. Bruni had been teaching her Italian so she knew the words for I’m sorry.
“Dio mia. This is all I have left of Gus.” She and her husband started the bakery together. “That nice firefighter said it was not my fault.”
“Apparently the electrical outlet was old and sparked.”
Mrs. Bruni shook her head. “Your studio?”
“Smoke damage. Easier to clean up.” But water damage? That was huge.
“He said I can rebuild. But how?”
“The building’s insured. I promise, you’ll have your store back.” If Sasha had to pay extra for repairs herself. She owned the structure and was up to code on her inspections. This must have been a fluke.
Another woman approached them. “Angie, dear Angie, I’m so sorry.” Sasha had met Mrs. Bruni’s sister, who often helped out at the bakery.
They hugged then Mrs. Bruni said, “Coso posso fare, Millie.”
“We’ll figure out what we can do.” Mildred looked over her sister’s shoulder at Sasha. “There’ll be a way.”
“Excuse me.” Lt. Murray stood behind them. “Ms. Masters would you like to go up and see your studio? The private entrance staircase’s intact.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She said to the women, “I’ll be right back.”
He handed her something. “I got some goggles from the truck and some gloves. Put them on. And don’t touch anything.”
He went ahead of her to the door. “I’m afraid we had to break your lock.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to break down the door.”
They climbed the steep staircase and he opened the studio door. Immediately, she began to cough.
“We should go back.”
“No, I’ll be all right.” She pulled out a scarf she’d grabbed at home and covered her mouth and nose to dilute the acrid, putrid smell.
The symptoms dwindled and her eyes adjusted. Everything was intact—the two dance barres, the set of mirrors. She saw the door was closed to the office so that might have helped to keep it cleaner.
“We can’t stay, but I wanted you to know it’s just smoke damage.” When she didn’t respond, he went on, “There’ll be soot everywhere. But luckily no water damage. The alarm went off and we got here fast.”
“I had a layer of fireproof compounds and mortar laid between the floors when I remodeled upstairs.”
“Good thinking. Let’s go back to the street.”
Ironically, it was a lovely July night, with stars twinkling and the streetlights glowing. Too lovely, for what had happened here.
Sasha had a thought. “I forgot to ask how I go about cleaning all this up.”
“Call Pro Serve. They’ve worked with us a lot. You’ll have to wait to do anything inside, though, until the arson squad checks things out.”
“Arson? This could be arson?”
“Doesn’t seem like it to me, but for most commercial fires, the squad comes to make sure. I already told this to Mrs. Bruni.”
“Oh. My heart stopped there for a minute. But, again, thanks.”
Sasha walked over to Mrs. Bruni, who now sat on one of the benches that lined the street. Mildred’s arm circled around the shoulders of her sister’s flowered house dress. Sasha joined them. As soon as she sat and took the old woman’s hand, she felt gutted by her pain.
Sasha ignored it. She would be here for her friend.
#
Dan stood across the street on the sidewalk as he watched Sasha come out of the studio entrance with a fireman and head over to a bench. Amidst the noise of the trucks and officers shouting orders, Dan crossed to where she sat with Mrs. Bruni. Her curly brown hair was back in a ponytail and she wore a light purple workout suit. “Sasha, are you all right?”
“Danny? Um, physically, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“I have a small apartment down the street and heard the commotion outside my window.”
“I forgot where you lived.”
“Mrs. Bruni, I’m so sorry about all this,” he said.
The older woman stared at him with bruised eyes. He tried not to react but she was so sad even his hardened heart softened. “Danny. Thank you.”
“You two know each other?” Sasha asked.
“I go to the bakery almost every day.”
“You’re a nice boy,” she said squeezing his hand.
Ha! He was anything but that.
“What can I do for you?” he asked Sasha
“We don’t know yet.”
When Mrs. Bruni turned to her sister, Dan dropped down next to Sasha. Taking her hand would be too forward, so he made sure their hips and shoulders touched. Her face was ragged, her violet eyes turbulent, something else that elicited unwanted emotion from him. “This is so awful.”
“I know. You’re insured, aren’t you?”
“I am. But Mrs. Bruni has a high deductible. She won’t be able to cover all the repairs.”
“There must be something we can do.” He used we intentionally.
“The town has to help.”
“I agree. How bad was your studio damaged?”
“Smoke damage. The flames didn’t reach it so the sprinklers didn’t go off.”
“That’s good to hear. At least it didn’t burn.”
“I have to remember that.” She gave him a small smile. “I like that you’re so optimistic.”
Again, the foreign twist in his heart. Which he couldn’t afford. He’d come to Rockford to do a job and he certainly couldn’t develop feelings for his target. After all, he was planning to destroy her life as she knew it.
A NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has written dozens of self-published original romance titles, print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises and mainstream women’s fiction. One of her firefighter books hit #20 on the NEW YORK TIMES list. Her novels have been serialized in COSMOPOLITAN magazine and featured in USA TODAY, THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and PEOPLE magazine. There are over ten million copies of her books in print and downloaded online. Readers call her work heartwarming.
Life is hard for Ruby growing up in poverty on the wrong side of the mountain on her grandfather’s farm where literally the sun didn’t shine. The Appalachian setting isn’t her friend as she searches for an easy life at the “tippy-top” with contentment and security. Ruby makes a series of bad decisions, causing her life to tumble into an unexpected outcome.
Joseph knew that he always wanted to be a teacher. His family, one of the more prosperous on the mountain, surrounded him with love and support and encouraged him to find happiness with a family of his own.
Leon, a former farm hand on her grandfather’s farm, darts in and out of Ruby’s life on his way toward a life of crime.
The Four Winds meets Blind Tiger in this tale during Prohibition Era Appalachian Tennessee, set in the early 1900s, where setting and mountain community become other characters of the story. Based on a real-life tale of the author’s grandmother, the reader gets immersed in Ruby’s choices as she searches for worthiness and belonging. Was the adventure worth the risk of losing her family? Will Ruby ever find what she is looking for?
Kimberly Nixon is an emerging author of biographical fiction. She was blessed with a plethora of family stories, featuring strong, determined—and sometimes wild—characters. She wrestles these personalities into main characters in her works of fiction. She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writing Association, Alliance of Independent Authors, and the Writer’s League of Texas. Kimberly lives in Austin, Texas with her husband Paul most of the year and travels for adventure when she can. This is Kimberly’s debut novel.
Three generations of heartbreak. One chance to heal old wounds.
“I never want to see you again!” Khrista didn’t believe her daughter when she stormed out of her life five years ago. But every day since, her daughter’s angry words have echoed in Khrista’s mind, even as she tries to hide the truth from her chosen family–the community that raised her.Finding solace in her preschool classroom by day and her whisky by night, Khrista is forced to confront her pride and her problems when someone from her past brings news that threatens to drive her deeper into the danger zone.
Kaelyn loves the life she built–doting husband, dream home by the beach, and a baby on the way. But when her long-lost grandmother contacts her out of the blue, life starts feeling off-kilter. She’s eager to have a blood relation to love, but meeting her grandmother again uncovers painful feelings about her own mother she keeps buried.
Estranged from her daughter and granddaughter for over twenty years, Daisy hasn’t had an easy life. But with the death of her abusive husband, she’s determined to start living. Step one: find her granddaughter, whom she hasn’t seen since the child was five. Maybe a reunion with Kaelyn will lead to mending fences with Khrista, too, and allow Daisy to rectify all the wrongs and fix everything before it’s too late.
Join the O’Donnell women on their quest for forgiveness and family and love.
Always in tune with her feelings, even when she wished he wouldn’t be, Oliver reached out his hand and gripped Kaelyn’s bare knee. The sensation of his rough fingers on her freshly shaved skin sent chills throughout her body, but mostly his gentle and comforting touch quieted her mind momentarily. If only she could bottle him up—his very essence—and take him like Xanax.
“Hey, love, you seem distant today. Is everything all right?”
She continued gazing out the window, not wanting to alarm him, but not sure how to express that everything could not be okay when so much of the world was falling to decay around them. He would laugh at her if he heard her thoughts and tell her that one nearly condemned property in an area of million-dollar homes did not mean something would go wrong with their baby.
She knew he would offer this assurance, and she knew she should believe him.
Instead of letting him into her thoughts as she normally did, Kaelyn muttered that she was okay. She hoped he would drop it and continue buzzing about the upcoming ultrasound. She needed his excitement. Needed his positive energy.
“Be honest with me, love. Are you having doubts about the baby?”
She gasped. “Of course not!”
Her sharpness made him jump, his shoulders rising in reaction to the startling noise that had emanated from deep within her body and cascaded out of her mouth in a roar.
She softened her tone and tried to smile. “This is the happiest accident ever.”
They had wanted kids together; they just hadn’t talked about when. She had missed a few birth control pills when things were crazy at work, but she hadn’t thought it would be a problem.
Her hand moved to her belly.
It wasn’t a problem. She was delighted. Nothing could keep her from feeling happy about this new life blossoming inside her. This baby may not have been planned, but he was far from an accident.
“It’s okay if you’re having worries or concerns. People go through all sorts of emotions when they find out their lives are going to change.”
“Are you having doubts?” She didn’t want to believe it could be true, but maybe Oliver’s questions were a way for him to open the door to admitting he thought going through with this pregnancy was a mistake.
As much as she loved him and practically worshiped him and his goodness, she would leave him if it meant saving her baby.
“My turn to say, ‘Of course not.’ I’ve never been happier. But if the daggers you’re flinging at me are any indication, I fear suddenly that my place in this family may be in jeopardy and you may kill me in my sleep if you sense I could have doubts.”
He laughed and squeezed her knee, and she so badly wanted to laugh as well.
A small chuckle may have wiggled its way from her throat, but if she actually did laugh, it was a product of being on social autopilot and not a reflection of joy or good humor.
Where was the joy and good humor she normally had?
She was happy, darn it! She had everything. Everything.
Amanda loves spending time with her adult children and her real-life hero. She is obsessed with bookstores, trees, elephants, castles, tea, and traveling (and a lot more, but she thought this should be brief.)
Amanda enjoys writing about complicated family dynamics, flawed characters who could be your friends, and healing hearts. But no matter how emotional the story may be, she prides herself on ending in the most uplifting way possible and maintaining hope through any hardship. Amanda is a USA Today best-selling author of romance under another name.
Amanda especially loves connecting with readers and inviting people into her “chosen family” circle. She welcomes you to sign up for her newsletter and to follow her on social media.
The long-awaited sequel to Breaking Beth is finally coming July 2022, pre-order now!
“I’m too broken for love.”
After everything Beth has been through, all she wants is to feel normal. To be normal. But the weight of her past won’t let her go easily.
“Wanting her is wrong.”
All Jake wants is to be a hero. To save as many as he can from the monsters of this world. But when the monsters come for Beth Doherty… he isn’t thinking like a hero.
Ripping her out of her life was bad enough. Wanting her is worse. But resisting her might just be impossible.
Jennifer Bene is a USA Today bestselling author of dangerously sexy and deviously dark romance. From BDSM, to Suspense, Dark Romance, and Thrillers—she writes it all. Always delivering a twisty, spine-tingling journey with the promise of a happily-ever-after. Don’t miss a release! Sign up for the newsletter to get new book alerts (and a free welcome book) at http://jenniferbene.com/newsletter
Everyone knows that the biggest risk you can take with your best friend is to cross a certain line.
When it comes to relationships, Hunter Lancing is not a risk taker. Between his parents’ terrible divorce and his own bad decisions, he’s been burned. Computers make more sense to him. Everything has a rule. Everything is defined. Like his computers, his best friend is defined, constant, and comes with rules he won’t break.
“Ohhh, I think I’ve died and gone to chocolate heaven,” she gushed as she picked up a spoon and sliced it through the cake. Her eyes drifted shut as she chewed and he let himself watch her. Let himself enjoy her, just for a moment. He swore her happy little moan might take him to his knees. What would he have to do to recreate that sound from her?
Nothing. You do nothing.
“This is hands down one of the best brownies I’ve ever had. You have got to have some, Lancelot.” She opened her eyes.
Hunter grabbed the spoon and stabbed at the brownie.
“Hey, this is a work of art, treat it with the respect it deserves,” admonished Natalie as she gently sliced another portion off with her spoon.
“It’s a brownie, Nat. It’s meant to be eaten, not admired.”
“No reason why you can’t do both.”
For the next few minutes, they ate and Hunter looked at everything around him but Natalie and the spoon going in and out of her mouth. The way her lips clung to the metal as she slipped it back out. The dart of her tongue to lick up anything she missed. Not to mention more small noises of pleasure she was making. Someone should put him out of his misery now. This was Texas. Someone had to be packing, right?
When she finished, she placed the spoon on the plate, a look of sadness turning her irises a darker blue.
“I stand by my comment—best brownie. What do you think?”
“It wasn’t bad.” Honestly, he couldn’t remember a single bite.
She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re a brownie heathen, Hunter Lancing.”
“Add it to the growing list of annoying things about me you have,” he grumbled, tossing his napkin on the plate.
“I would never have a list like that about you.” Natalie sat up and leaned over the table, the neckline of her dress dipped, and his eyes were drawn to her cleavage. He quickly averted his gaze and locked onto hers right as her thumb brushed the side of his mouth.
Like what happened when he was in the zone with his coding, all his focus zeroed in on her and only her. The way the fairy lights on the tree highlighted her brown hair. Her lips glossy and probably sweet from dessert. Her touch against his skin, soft and simple…mesmerizing. The temptation to lean forward and kiss her threatened to derail him like a virtual virus would a computer program.
“Crumb,” she whispered as if she too was caught up in the sensual spell weaving around them. Her voice soft like the fall of a snowflake on the ground, blue eyes turning hazy…dreamy.
Award-winning contemporary romance author Kadie Scott grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing) and an MBA. However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it. Kadie also writes sweet contemporary romance as Kristen McKanagh, and award-winning paranormal and YA/NA fantasy romance as Abigail Owen. No matter the genre, she loves to write happily-ever-afters that shine with home, heart, and humor. Kadie currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own swoon-worthy hero husband and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.
USA Today Bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than taking characters and creating unique situations where they fight to find their true love. On her first school report her teacher noted “Nicole likes to tell her own stories”. It wasn’t until after the birth of her first child and after having fun on a romance community forum that she finally decided to take the plunge and write a book.
Apart from writing Nicole is busy looking after her very own hero – her wonderfully supportive husband, and two fabulous kids. She also enjoys watching sports and, of course, reading.
A war of Fae Houses. A Prince waking from darkness. A woman drenched in his blood.
Prince Renaud, my mother’s killer, is waking. The Court has not felt the full weight of an Old One in centuries, and it’s my fault.
I am Aerinne Capulette, Lady of House Faronne, and I will have my vengeance against House Montague and Renaud. But despite the ground war I’ve led since I was a child, we remain locked in bloody stalemate.
If the Prince takes the field against us, he will rip from my mind the secret that will shred any hope for peace, or victory.
He will kill me if he discovers the truth. . .
. . .sweet, foolish child. Your death is not what I desire. I have not waited, watched, and planned for centuries to let something as petty as a halfling girl’s vengeance keep me from claiming what is mine.
To protect you, and to ensure my reign, I will bend you to my will. I will slake this obsession with your blood and tears, and I will yield you to no one.
Let your House protest. Let my Court look aghast. They are nothing.
And you—you are my anchor.
We may be enemies, but your hatred only seduces my darkness.
Night in His Eyes is an adult high heat, slow burn Fae fantasy romance, first in the Fae Prince of Everenne series. This not a standalone and ends in a cliffhanger.
No male had ever pulled me with such casual command against his body. He settled a hand on the small of my back, above the curve of my bottom. Lavender burnt to displeased dust in my nostrils the moment he touched me.
I stiffened. “Be careful where you put your hands, Prince. I am not yours.” I tried to draw away and his fingers pressed into me, a silent refusal.
Prince Renaud lowered his mouth to my ear, his voice a breath of sound. “Do not run from me.”
“And if I do?”
“Run, and I will give chase, my halfling.”
Music began, a duo of harps with percussion that echoed the staccato beats of my heart, a wordless feminine voice twining through the notes, and we danced.
“You have no right to hold me like this.”
“What is right?” He tilted his head in slow perusal, a quizzical light in his cold stare.
“It starts with consent.” I said this to the High Lord—without clawing his eyes out.
Fingertips brushed the curve of my hips, sliding over silk like he owned the body beneath. “You consented to dance.”
I forced my jaw to unclench, my temper ticking up a notch. I’d told him not to touch me like that. Like a lover. Like I’d given him the right he was taking. I cringed internally at even thinking the cliché, but the dizzying speed of his interest was all so sudden. If anyone had told me a week ago the Prince of Everenne would be all over me like dryads in a tree, I would have laughed. Where was all of this coming from?
“To dance, not for you to fuck me standing up in public.”
“When I fuck you, Aerinne, you won’t be capable of standing. And if you have never beheld the Fae fuck while dancing, you have never beheld Fae truly dance.”
Emma is a 40 mumble mumble bi-racial American Muslim mom of five who writes PNR & SFR. Her dragons, fae, and bears will most interest readers who like their alphas strong, protective, and smokin’ hot; their heroines feisty, brainy, too grown to give a *uck, and over the age of 30.
Her stories feature men and women of diverse backgrounds.
Title: Lawdawg Author: Markeeta Karland Series: Black Reign MC #7 Genre: Contemporary MC Romance
Eden: The first time I saw Grady Bassett was when Samson brought Charlotte home. Turned out my brother’s woman is Grady’s daughter. Naturally, the man’s focus wasn’t on some camgirl at a MC he had no desire to be around. When he finally does notice me, he can’t see me for my position within the club — a woman who has sex on camera for strangers. But I noticed him… and I’m a woman who knows what she wants.
Lawdawg: Eden’s the most naturally sexy woman I’ve ever seen. Sure, I’d been worried sick about my daughter, but the second the danger to her was past, I became obsessed with Eden. I even downloaded every one of her videos. Which meant I binge watched. I gave Samson hell for wanting my daughter when he’s so much older, but now I’m in the same position. I need to let her go, to be the better man. But now I know Eden has an online stalker. He knows where she lives and who her friends are. Black Reign is compromised, so I reached out Cain at Bones MC. She might be young enough to be my daughter, but she’s still mine. No one will ever harm her. This stalker will have to go through me to even get close.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey there, Lawdawg. How’s it hangin’?” She hiccuped slightly at the end and giggled.
“Are you… are you drunk?”
“Well, yeah. It’s a party, you know. We’re all drunk.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Just fuckin’ great.” I scrubbed a hand over my face but continued. “Listen to me, Eden. Go to Samson. You’re in danger. There’s a guy stalking you.”
“Sinner58? Yeah. I know. He’s running off all my good followers.” She sounded like she was pouting.
“You knew about this?” Anger was starting to build inside me. Anger. Aggression. I wanted to take her over my knee and paddle her like the child she was.
“Of course, I knew! He’s been bullying my regulars for weeks. It’s just that it must have stepped up in the last few days, because my followers are leaving now instead of merely waiting until the next show.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Nope.” No further explanation.
“Of course, you didn’t.” I let out an exasperated breath. “Look. Just stay put. This guy knows where you are and how to get to you. I’m headed that way.”
“Oh, you are, huh?”
“Eden…” I tried to inject as much warning as I could. Anyone else would have tripped all over themselves to do his bidding. Eden? Not so much.
“What do you plan on doing when you get here?”
“I’m lockin’ that place down with you in it!”
“Oh, really?”
“I don’t have time to argue with you, Eden,” I snapped, beginning to get really angry now. Well, angry but more frustrated. She wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Hadn’t in all the time she knew about it.
“You don’t?” I sensed a trap but had no idea what it might be. “Well, what if I did this…” There was a pause before my phone signaled I had a text. I pulled it up and there was a selfie of Eden. Her exquisite tits on fine display. “Or this.” The next image she sent had a man sucking at one of those tits. Something inside me just… snapped. I felt like something inside my head that was primitive and territorial roared to the front and demanded I claim that woman. She was mine. No one else’s. It didn’t seem to matter she was young enough to be my daughter or that my late wife was probably rolling over in her grave because of the girl’s age. I needed her and had every intention of taking her with me. I could tell myself it was to keep her safe, but the pure and simple fact was, I just fucking wanted her.
Romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of. Now, she breathes life into faeries, space hunters, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and a few just plane ole ordinary people. She loves to see the awkward, self-conscious band geek get the captain of the football team and make him beg for it.
Title: Love You Wrong Author: Julia Kent Genre: Romantic Comedy
Two young do-gooders working to change the world find friendship and maybe more in a cutthroat business, but when the stakes are higher than they ever imagined, will a betrayal bring them together—or ruin everything?
Kellan “Kell” Luview is a new man. He left his tourist-trap small town and his dad’s business behind in rural Maine for a position at an environmental policy think tank in Washington, D.C. More comfortable climbing trees than talking about them, he’s determined to stretch his wings as he builds a new life with an ambitious girlfriend and smart friends who are just as dedicated as he is.
Despite his love for his work and the excitement of D.C., he feels pulled in too many directions when his girlfriend Alissa starts acting weird, his best friend Rachel needs an embarrassing, public rescue, and his mom hints that things are not going well at home in Luview–“Love You”–Maine, where every day is Valentine’s Day.
As a shocking betrayal shakes the very foundation of everything he believes in, Kell must decide who to trust, who to challenge, who needs him most—and figure out fast whether Rachel’s warnings about his girlfriend are credible.
Or yet another tactical maneuver in a city founded on them.
Unraveling the mystery of who to believe pits Kell against Rachel in a battle where the truth is uncertain and hearts are just collateral damage as ambition rules over feelings.
But Kell’s had enough.
More than enough.
Time to decide what kind of man he is—and who to trust.
Her comment was meant to be a joke about the lemur costume, but suddenly the air was charged with a heated electricity she wasn’t expecting.
“Right,” he finally said, giving her a lopsided grin she liked very much. “Come over at seven.” He opened his arms and pulled her into a hug, stepping forward so quickly, her arms stayed at her side, pinned by his. He smelled so good, with that woodsy cologne he wore.
“Thank you,” he whispered. The hug was over before she could register it, but something about his quick retreat felt more like he was being careful than abrupt.
Like maybe he felt the spark between them, too.
“For what?”
“Being a good friend.”
“Of course.” Flustered, she pointed to the door. “I’m behind on emails.”
“Me, too.” He held up his phone. “But I’m going to stay in here for a minute. Some personal business.”
“Okay.”
She practically ran out of the conference room, her skin warm from his hug. Reaching her cubicle, she sat down, bent over, and pressed her forehead into the palms of her hands.
Tomorrow. Seven p.m. Watch Nordic noir.
That was all.
Because as Kell’s mom had just said, she was Friend Rachel. And nothing more.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
Title: Alpha’s Fire Author: Renee Ross and Lee Savino Series: Shifter Ops #4 Genre: Paranormal Romance
I’ve waited 1000 years for my mate. If she rejects me, I’ll burn down the world.
She woke the dragon.
Every maiden dreams of being rescued by a handsome prince from a deadly dragon. But I am the prince and the dragon.
Ancient courtship rituals demand I steal my bride away. Imprison her in my high tower. Show her my treasures, my vast lands and armies.
I’ve done all that, and she still refuses me. She says she can’t see herself with a man who still thinks Istanbul is Constantinople.
I must woo her, and I don’t know how. But beneath my beating human heart, a dragon sleeps. And when he wakes, no one can stop him from destroying the world.
The chilly air nips my skin, bared by my tank top. An hour into my hike, I’ve already shed my jacket—I’m a strange combination of cold and sweaty. Weird, but it feels good.
There’s snow on the peaks towering ahead of me. It’s spring here, but snow still lingers in the long shadows of the thickly clustered pines.
This early in the morning, my breath puffs as I trek across a frozen field where a few yellow wildflowers poke their heads up over the matted grass. I’m the only tourist crazy enough to be hiking so early in the season. I haven’t seen anyone on the trail. The mountains of northern Italy are technically the Alps, but the locals call them I Dolomiti. The hike I chose isn’t as challenging as the ones that would carry me up the tallest peak, but my thighs burn from the steady incline. It’s still better than swaying down a catwalk in five-inch heels and a weird poofy dress that left most of my back and butt uncovered. When I was a model, I’d do anything for fashion but no longer. This model has officially quit the circuit.
“I don’t understand,” my mother wailed when I called to tell her. “You were doing so well. You were making such great contacts.” In mom-speak, that meant I was meeting men. Rich men who’d love to have a model on their arm. The sort of man my mom hoped would sweep me off my feet and give me a diamond ring and marriage proposal or at least a diamond watch and an extended stay in his private penthouse. Maybe even a car and a few trips to the Riviera or Seychelles.
The type of man my mother always chased after.
I didn’t tell her that it was my date with exactly that kind of man that broke me. I was at another boring after-party on the arm of a short stock broker named Paul. Perfectly nice guy, but just because I’m a model and his head barely clears my shoulder doesn’t mean that he has the right to put his hand on my ass.
I’ve stomped across the meadow and up the trail that’s disappearing between the blue-gray pines before I realize I’m muttering under my breath. A bird trills on an evergreen branch above my head, and my rage disappears.
I take a moment to clear my lungs. The air is fresh and better than any expensive cologne. The water flowing from a mountain stream is pure snowmelt and probably tastes like heaven. Tiny purple flowers peek up from the cracks in the gray rocks, and the bird above my head warbles like his sex life depends on it.
I’m far from the fashion circuit in Milan. No more crowded events that overwhelm my senses. No more clashing auras or toxic energies leaving me with a headache, desperate to get away. No more handsy businessmen who treat me like a cigar–a possession, an indulgence, a prop.
No more sharing an apartment with six other half-starved young people whose daily food intake adds up to barely half a sandwich. The first thing I did after I told my agent I quit was eat a giant bowl of cheesy pasta.
Right now, my backpack is full of the best provisions: good cheese, a local red wine, and several packs of biscotti.
I may have disappointed my mother, but I feel better than I have in a year. Like a weight lifted off my chest.
It’s been almost three months since I quit and started wandering like a vagabond. I spent a little of my fashion week earnings on a pair of hiking boots and a backpack. The rest of my nest egg has gone to reserving the little mountain huts called rifugios and a nice rental near Lake Como where I stayed while waiting for the snow to melt.
The plan is to hike Alta Via 1 and beyond. Spend the summer in the mountains. And after that, who knows? I’m eighteen, and I can do anything. This spring is the start of my new life.
Fifteen minutes of climbing, and my thighs are shaking, but it’s all worth it when I round the corner and come across a magical mountain lake. The water is a brilliant teal, an ethereal color as bright and shocking as a Lilly Pullitzer jumper.
I can’t resist going to the edge and dipping my hand in, but instead of bracing cold, the water is warm as a freshly drawn bath. In the middle of the lake, steam’s rising off the surface.
Is this a hot spring? If so, my guidebook didn’t mention it.
I drop my jacket and my pack. Facing the clear pool, I feel extra grimy. I’m so tempted to strip everything off and jump in.
But I’m not alone.
There’s a man in the pool. His dark head is even with a rocky outcropping, which is why I didn’t see him before.
Once I see him, I can’t look away. He’s not swimming, but walking in the shallows. Water streams off his sculpted shoulders, lapping lovingly at his massive pectoral muscles. A few more steps towards the shore, and water flows away from his diamond-hard abs, cut and sculpted with the precision of a shower, not a grower. Except actually… He is a grower. Because the longer I stare at his cock, the bigger it gets. “Holy hell,” I mutter. This wild man in the wilderness with a beard like John the Baptist is making me hotter and wetter between my legs than I’ve ever been. Maybe I’m just in a dry spell.
USA Today Bestselling Author Renee Rose loves a dominant, dirty-talking alpha hero! She’s sold over a million copies of steamy romance with varying levels of kink. Her books have been featured in USA Today’s Happily Ever After and Popsugar. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won Spunky and Sassy’s Favorite Sci-Fi and Anthology author, and Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance. She’s hit the USA Today list ten times with her Chicago Bratva, Bad Boy Alpha, Wolf Ranch books, and various anthologies.
Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.
he lives in the USA with her awesome family You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).
