She’s survived dangerous missions for the government, but can she survive life among the rich?
Davia Glenn is the first woman on a covert paramilitary team until a mission goes deadly wrong. She inherits a fortune, moves to a wealthy community, and soon discovers the crazy under all that money. On a terrorist’s hit list, Davia must navigate her new life while dodging assassins.
Torn between two men and two worlds, Davia must decide her future— but this time, she wears haute couture instead of camouflage and combat boots.
If you love the grit of Jack Reacher and the fun of Stephanie Plum, one-click Dior or Die today for your next addicting, suspenseful mystery read.
I sat in a chair blindfolded, arms bound behind me with duct tape, and a gag stuffed in my mouth. The relentless
gunfire battered my senses.
Control the mind-game, Davia.
Forcing my hands into tight balls, I leaned forward and arched my back, preparing to free myself. In response, a bullet cracked one of my chair’s legs, and I almost crashed to the ground.
This ordeal was a boys’ club welcome to the first woman assigned to the most elite covert paramilitary team in existence. Of course, the team wouldn’t greet me with candy and flowers, but this?
My face grew hot from suppressed fury as the rounds whizzed past unabated. I slowed my breathing. Four breaths in, four out.
Again.
Finally, there was silence.
The malignant perfume of gunfire burned my nostrils. I listened for the click of empty magazines dropped and replaced. Instead, booming laughter and the dull thud of men slapping each other’s backs echoed through the space.
“Let’s give Glenn some time to sit in her messed drawers.” It was
James Warden, my team’s leader. When we met this morning at our training base in Virginia, he radiated Apex Alpha. Now, I amended it to Apex Asshat.
“We can tell the colonel we didn’t hit the hostage,” said another.
More guffaws.
After their voices drifted away, I renewed my efforts to break the bindings. Within minutes, I was loose. I spat the gag from my mouth and tore the blindfold from my eyes, temples throbbing. How long would it take my shattered hearing to return in full?
My location was a plywood shoot house with movable walls. Dummy targets riddled with bullet holes surrounded me, and spent brass casings blanketed the floor like a golden carpet. Crouching, I snuck to the door, flattened myself against the wall, and peeked out.
Another teammate, Savant, sat at a distant table under a canvas shade, headphones atop his mop of fair hair. Hunched over a laptop, he bopped in time to an unheard beat. Gunfire began at a nearby range.
The group had moved on.
Bending, I lifted the combat knife strapped to my right calf and noticed a bullet hole had pierced a cargo pocket. The round missed my leg by a fraction of an inch.
I was almost a victim of high-speed lead poisoning.
Jaw set, I crept forward and thrust the knife under Savant’s chin in case he wanted to continue the hazing. Complex surveillance images streamed across his laptop’s screen as heavy metal blared from the headphones I tugged off.
“Don’t move,” I hissed.
“Oh, hey, Davia.” He pointed toward the distant gunfire. “Have fun.”
He never looked up.
Dropping Savant’s headphones into his lap, I put my knife back in its sheath. At the weapons table, I selected a submachine gun.
Popping in filtered ear protection, I stalked out to the range. Let’s find the hyenas.
Four battle-hardened men turned in sync when I approached, their expressions ranging from surprised to annoyed at my unexpected appearance.
“Sorry, I’m late.” My voice was saccharine sweet, like I was tardy for a Sunday picnic.
“We wasn’t ’specting you at all,” said Hodge, our burly Texan medic. “You’re tougher than a one-eared alley cat.”
Most worked to hide smiles, but Warden scowled. “Careful with that gun,” he said. “I’ll show you how to use it in a sec.”
Show me? I trained for years on every weapon they used, and some they didn’t. Not pausing, I discharged all my ammo, disintegrating the bullseye of the target.
When I finished, teammate Ned tugged at his scruffy beard and said, “We should nickname you Bombshell, and not because you’re blonde.” The men all laughed, except Warden.
I grew up in a small town in Southern California. My early writing career began when I created a neighborhood newspaper, won an American Legion essay award in 8th grade, and became editor of my high school newspaper.
At age 24, I became a prosecutor for the San Diego County District Attorney’s office. I handled high-profile murder, rape, domestic violence, and gang cases. When I person I convicted made death threats, I trained in self-defense and weapons with a former black-ops agent. This led to the creation of my protagonist, Davia Glenn.
I’m a Distinguished Toastmaster and like to advocate for suicide prevention, elder abuse prevention, and fighting sex crimes against children.
This all sounds serious and achievement driven, but I also enjoy traveling, taking photos, and Korean dramas. I have two cats and a great guy.
It wasn’t my idea to come on the reality show, because who really falls in love after twelve weeks? I’m not good at love… or being camera-ready 24/7. The other contestants know all about the First Date Rose, how to get The Suitor alone on a group date, and they all have a plan on how to best win his heart. It’s not going to be easy playing nice with them.
But when I meet The Suitor— Grayson Grant, former player on and off the field, and with the smile that can light up a city—it’s the spark between us that makes me forget all the reasons I didn’t want to come on the show.
I’m going to win this.
Unfortunately, twenty-five other women think the same thing.
Falling for The Suitor is the first in the new Suitor Science Series, a charmingly sweet, swoony, and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy full of sparks and power surges.
One step, then another; a shuffle hop as a surge of excitement overshadows my nerves, and I grin in a foolish sort of way.
Closer up, I see I was wrong; he’s more than cute. And taller than I expected. The blond hair gleams in the light, the eyes—I think… blue—crinkle at the corners. He’s a younger Brad Pitt, with a little Chris Evans thrown in, and the easy charm of Chris Pratt. He’s all the Chrises rolled into one baseball-playing, suit-wearing, nicely shaved, really cute…
And then the way his gaze tracks my every move, his smile growing with my every step like he’s looking forward to this as much as I am, makes things tingle that haven’t tingled in a very long time.
Finally, I’m standing before The Suitor, as nervous as Cinderella at the ball. “Hi.” I take a deep breath and my smile widens. “Hi.”
Holly Kerr is the author of fifteen chick-lit, romantic comedy, and women’s fiction novels, but don’t ask her to explain the differences in the genres. She grew up a farm girl but now calls Toronto home, where she lives with her three very tall children, following their sports exploits like any dutiful mother.
She’s a lover of Marvel movies, Star Wars movies…really, any movies, and has a surprising amount of worthless pop culture info stored in her head. She likes oceans over mountains, tea over coffee, and can mix a darn fine dirty martini, with extra olives, of course.
Title:Shock and Aww Author: Lilly Atlas Series: Blue Collar Bensons #2 Genre: Contemporary Romance
JP’s childhood was the definition of dysfunctional, but he has a sweet set up as an adult. He bounces around, working at his siblings’ businesses, steers clear of relationships, and plans to stay child-free for life. Few commitments and even fewer responsibilities; just how he likes it. He cruises along with no shortage of women to warm his bed and fun times to be had until the universe drops a seven-month, fifteen-pound bomb in his lap.
Hannah doesn’t have a rebellious bone in her body, which is why she’s stunned to find herself traveling to Vermont to spy on her infant niece’s father. After the recent passing of her sister, Hannah’s parents are struggling and failing to deal with their new reality. They beg her to help them get custody of their grandchild in any way possible, no matter how unsavory.
When Hannah arrives in Vermont, she doesn’t find a neglectful, degenerate father as her parents predicted. Instead, she encounters JP, a man whose world was rocked to its core. Before long, Hannah is suffocating under a mountain of lies and falling hard for a man her family despises.
JP has so much to learn, but with Hannah’s help, he’s finding responsibility isn’t the dirty word he made it out to be. Instead, the more time he spends with her, the more he wonders what else he’s misjudged, like relationships. Hannah is thrilled to help JP muddle his way through single parenthood and explore their developing feelings. But with so many secrets and challenges between them, how can this end in anything but heartbreak?
Lilly Atlas is a contemporary romance author, proud Navy wife, and mother of two spunky girls. By day she works as a physical therapist for a hospital in Virginia. Lilly is an avid romance reader, and expects her Kindle to beg for mercy every time she downloads a new eBook. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened yet, and she can often be found absorbed in a good book.
What happens when a down-on-her-luck single mom meets not one, but two sexy saviors? Roommates with twice the benefits.
Jess has one goal in life—protect her son. But when an overcrowded shelter puts her and Jasper out on the street in the dead of winter, she fears she’s going to fail that mission. Help comes in the form of confirmed bachelors, Tony Moretti and Dr. Rhys Beaumont.
Tony and Rhys share the same motto—work hard, play harder. But when fate drops a homeless waitress and her young son on their doorstep, their wild and free lifestyle takes a sharp turn. Their desire to help her is only surpassed by their desire to claim her, share her, make her theirs. When Tony and Rhys offer Jess a place to stay and security, there’s no denying the chemistry between the three of them. All she has to do is let them in. But Jess isn’t willing to get hurt again . . . no matter how persuasive, how determined, how deliciously possessive her new roommates are.
Virginia native Mari Carr is a New York Times and USA Today bestseller of contemporary romance novels. With over one million copies of her books sold, Mari was the winner of the Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Plume award for her novella, Erotic Research. She has over a hundred published works, including her popular Wild Irish and Compass books, along with the Trinity Masters series she writes with Lila Dubois.
Title: Butterfly Sisters Author: Jenny Hale Genre: Contemporary Fiction
bout to land her biggest deal yet, Leigh Henderson is on her game. She’s prepared for this, and nothing can get in her way. Except Rebecca Mayer, who’d sashayed in a few weeks ago with a former client list that would fill the entire hallway to Leigh’s office if she laid it out end to end. When her boss unexpectedly offers the deal to Rebecca and tells Leigh he’s letting her go, Leigh finds herself without a job.
But that’s the least of her worries.
Her mother has some news that will change everything. She’s asked Leigh and her sister Meredith to meet her at the family cabin on Old Hickory Lake. Not only has Leigh been unable to pin her sister down in years, but going back to the cabin would mean dealing with the loss of her beloved grandmother and also chance running into her old flame Colton Harris, the one love she’s never been able to completely let go of.
Will confronting her grief, speaking to her estranged sister, and being forced to face the love she’d left behind help Leigh to learn who she really is?
A heartwarming story that will have you laughing, crying, and rushing to those you hold dear.If you loved the Christmas movies based on Jenny’s books and are looking for more feel-good, small-town romance, look no further!
Jenny Hale is a USA Today, Amazon, and international bestselling author of romantic contemporary fiction. Her books have sold worldwide, have been translated into multiple languages, and adapted for television. Her novels Coming Home for Christmas and Movie Guide Epiphany Award winner Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses are Hallmark Channel original movies.
She was included in Oprah Magazine’s “19 Dreamy Summer Romances to Whisk You Away” and Southern Living’s “30 Christmas Novels to Start Reading Now.” Her stories are chock-full of feel-good romance and overflowing with warm settings, great friends, and family. Jenny is at work on her next novel, delighted to be bringing even more heartwarming stories to her readers.
When she isn’t writing, or heading up her romantic fiction imprint Harpeth Road, she can be found running around her hometown of Nashville with her husband, two boys, and their labradoodle, taking pictures—her favorite pastime.
“I remember the moment I realized it was doomed to fail. My plan to save Earth.”
She raises an eyebrow and waits for me to continue.
“I was in a room full of rich and powerful people. I was trying to raise the funds needed for terraforming on Earth. I knew I could not do it alone, that it would take many of us–if not all of us–to make the changes needed.”
“They didn’t listen, did they?” she asks, her lips forming a hard line.
I shake my head. “In the end, Mars was the only option we had left.”
Azalea sits straighter, moving her hand from under her chin to place it gently on my leg. For a brief moment, my body is entirely focused on her touch and every worry I have fades away. She has the power to shift my reality in an instant.
“It’s funny, I always thought you had too big an impact,” she says. “With so many people ruining the world, sometimes the environmentalist groups tried to paint everyone with the same brush. Everyone was failing. Everyone had to do more. Especially the rich. The news made it seem like you were ignoring problems instead of trying to fix them.”
I think about the Azalea I never knew, angry with me before we ever met. I would have fallen just as hard for that woman, I think. Would it have changed anything? Had we met earlier? I push the thought from my mind. There is no point obsessing over what might have been.
“The discourse was fraught from the start,” I say. “It was easier to lay blame than take action. In trying to inspire people to work together rather than just fan the flames of their anger, I felt like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the mountain, only to begin again each day. I finally became so disillusioned that I shifted my efforts.”
“To Mars,” Azalea says.
I nod. “Da. To Mars. I had the money to do whatever I wanted, and no government on Mars could senselessly slow my efforts.”
Talking of Mars draws both of our attention to the window, and we sit silently for a moment, taking in the expanse of space. We float together in a silent sky, countless miles away from our home planet. Right now, I exist only in this moment—alongside this woman, my past forgotten, my future a mystery. There is only now.
I hope the same is true for her, but I do not dare assume as much. Whatever her feelings about the process, she has Robert. They spend their days–and nights–in each other’s company. Surely their connection must be growing stronger.
The lucky bastard.
“Well,” Azalea says, turning to face me as she gives my leg a soft squeeze that makes me feel like Cupid has bludgeoned me with his bow. “I’d like to formally apologize for all the terrible things I said about you before we ever met. And, I’d like to thank you for bringing me along on your journey. I’m grateful.”
It means the world for her to say so, and I place my hand on top of hers, finally giving in to the temptation. The touch feels so right, yet just outside of the bounds of appropriateness. The entire purpose of assigned partners and an infallible algorithm was to avoid just this situation.
The jealousy.
The animosity.
The aggression.
Nothing good comes from broken trust and infidelity. No one has exchanged wedding vows, but they have all committed to this common goal. What happens when the man who made the rules is the first to break them?
Distinguishing right from wrong has never been a challenge for me. Helping people. Helping the planet. Ensuring the ends justify the means. It has always been a simple, logical code that has served me well.
Every second spent in the company of Azalea flies in the face of that. My feelings for her will have repercussions. If they are reciprocated, it will be even worse.
And yet, I have never wanted anything more.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
The question slices into me like a heated blade. I cannot begin to tell her my thoughts without annihilating what little line remains between us.
I should not.
I shall not.
“I am thinking…”
About you. About your eyes, and hair, and scent, and body.
“About you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I know what to do with them. Azalea’s eyes grow wide, and I realize I cannot leave those words to stand on their own.
“Oh?”
I sigh. There is no mystery. My secrets are exposed. The moment I took her hand to make sure she knew I had no partner, I made my feelings clear. We can dance around the conversation as long as we like, but I cannot pretend this beautiful, brilliant, intuitive woman does not see right through me.
I lean in. Only an inch. Testing the waters.
She does not move.
I close the distance more.
She blinks.
I am close enough to feel the breeze of her breath. It hitches.
We are each living on scraps of breath, taking in only enough air to survive, lest a single inhale disrupt this moment.
I bring my lips to hers, and she does not retreat.
As our mouths meet, I return to the blissful state of pure existence, my mind nowhere but here, no sense of the universe beyond the exquisite creature in front of me and the soft lips touching my own.
Blood rushes through my tingling body.
I inhale her breath into me as I deepen the kiss, parting her lips a sliver with the tip of my tongue, bringing my hand to cup her cheek, my other reaching around her waist to pull her closer.
She groans, her mouth opening for me, the taste of her like dark chocolate and rich red wine. Her tongue slicks against mine and my pants tighten uncomfortably at the touch. At the instant arousal she produces in me.
This kiss is everything, and yet I want—need—so much more.
I feel a rumble inside me, our contact shifting the tectonic plates of my soul, making every piece of me tremble.
Our lips part, but the quaking remains.
And now there is a sound to it.
My eyes lock with Azalea’s, whose face shows the same mix of ecstasy and concern.
The shaking is not from our kiss. It is coming from the ship.
Karpov Kinrade is the pen name for the husband and wife entertainment duo Lux and Dmytry Karpov-Kinrade, aka The KK Duo.
Together, they write award-winning, internationally and USAT bestselling books, make music, create art, write screenplays and direct — all the things.
Look for more from Karpov Kinrade in the Vampire Girl series, The Nightfall Chronicles and The Forbidden Trilogy. If you’re looking for their suspense and romance titles, you’ll find those under Alex Lux.
Check out their music by clicking on the Music tab.
They live in wine country California with their three offspring who have crazy creative genius oozing out of them in the form of music, art, performance, and all the things, and too many cats who all think they rule the world (spoiler alert: they do).
Title: What the Fang? Author: Stacey Kennedy Genre: Paranormal Romantic Comedy
Willa Farrington’s magic is broken. Shunned by her coven for failing to pass the Summer Solstice Rite, Willa escapes to the one place no witch belongs – Charleston, a city that belongs to vampires. Determined to embrace her new life, Willa opens Cauldron Boil Books, and unexpectedly finds some friends among the vampires…
Until one terrible night Willa ends up on the wrong side of a pair of fangs. Thankfully, her captor’s plan is ruined when Killian Constantine, the drop-dead gorgeous Warden of Charleston, shows up to save her. But just when Willa thinks she’s safe, Killian, rumored to be the most feared vampire in the city, furiously demands to know why she – a witch – telepathically called him for help. Intent on finding answers, the two embark on a journey to unravel the mystery behind Willa’s attack and their unusual connection. As they get closer to the truth, the fiery passion between them ignites. But their forbidden romance isn’t making them many friends, and just as Willa starts to think that her entire existence is a lie, deadlier forces come out of the shadows. She will need to believe in her malfunctioning magic, trust bloodthirsty vampires, and cross her fingers that she and Killian make it out together… and that neither end up dead.
As I set the last dish in the cupboard, Killian said, “Thank you for tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
“Had lunch with someone?” I asked with a snort, shutting the cupboard door, turning to face him.
Energy pulsed like a heartbeat, causing my nipples to pucker as he took a step closer. “Had a meal with a woman.”
I swallowed against the way his voice lowered at woman and how those two syllables stormed through my blood. I inhaled sharply, his wintery pine aroma overwhelming my senses. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself too.”
The silvering of his eyes told me I was failing miserably at hiding the excitement building inside me. He closed the remaining distance between us slowly, letting me watch every powerful step he took. His hand came to my arm, and that intentional touch kicked up my heart rate even more. Suddenly everything between us became charged, damn near electrified. His presence was all around me, his power washing over me, his mouth close to mine.
Aware of my desire, his nostrils flared, as he brushed a soft kiss against my cheek. The world stopped spinning as the air left my lungs in a rush, and my head turned without so much as a thought, only a pure desperation to feel himagainst my flesh.
Except, before my lips met his, he pulled away.
His glowing eyes were dancing. “Thank you again.”
As he strode away, and feeling like he suddenly had one up on me, I shoved all my desire, all my drenched, aching need into the air, letting him scent that.
He stiffened at the doorway, glancing back. His bright, glowing eyes, paired with the ravenous hunger on his face, nearly melted the panties off my body. “Are you prepared to finish what you’re starting?”
“Oh, are we starting something?” I asked, striding up to him. He went ramrod stiff as I molded myself to his body, leaning against the hefty erection at my stomach. “Aren’t we just saying goodbye?”
His chest rumbled.
Having the upper hand again, I grinned and meant to walk out of the door, except that a blast of wind slammed the door shut. Killian pressed me against the wall, his hard muscles a shield I never wanted gone. His hands braced my face, his lips inches from mine. Eyes glowing, he murmured, “You know we’re starting something.”
“Maybe I do.”
The air was on fire between us, electricity pinging as he brought his mouth closer, enough to smell Italian spices on the tongue I craved to taste. “If I kiss you, Willa, there is no walking away for me.” His gaze swept over my lips before meeting my eyes.
My head was spinning at the feel of his hands on me—at the power in the air around us. I could feel him entering every molecule of my body. His icy, woodsy aroma enveloping me. His touch burning me. His passion searing along my skin. It was like I knew all of Killian without knowing him. I didn’t question if I should let this happen, I knew it had to. I threaded my hands into his hair and brought his mouth to mine.
He groaned against my lips, and I echoed the sound, parting my mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. I moaned as I tasted him, and he grunted for all the same reasons, his hands exploring my body like he needed to learn it, to feel my curves. I dragged my hands from his hair to his strong shoulders down to his rippling arm muscles.
Until Killian broke the kiss, leaving me breathless after hearing a soft knock on the door. “Go away,” he growled.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Raphael said from the doorway. “But Ari requests your presence in the library.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, desperately trying to get control of my tingling nerve endings.
Killian waited for Raphael to leave before he set that smoldering stare on me, cupping my face, and cursed. “We need to go.” I saw the question there. All it would take was for me to say: I need you now, and we’d be late to meet Ari …
Stacey Kennedy is a USA Today bestselling author who writes contemporary romances full of heat, heart, and happily ever afters. With over 50 titles published, her books have hit Amazon, B&N, and Apple Books bestseller lists. Stacey lives with her husband and two children in southwestern Ontario—in a city that’s just as charming as any of the small towns she creates. Most days, you’ll find her enjoying the outdoors with her family or venturing into the forest with her horse, Priya. Stacey’s just as happy curled up indoors, where she writes surrounded by her lazy dogs. She believes that sexy books about hot cowboys or alpha heroes can fix any bad day. But wine and chocolate help too.
Meet Gemma Jacobs. She’s driven, energetic, and a positive thinker. She has a great career working for famed self-help guru Ian Fortune, she lives in a cute studio apartment in Manhattan, and her family is supportive and loving (albeit a little kooky). Her life is perfect. Absolutely wonderful.
Except for one tiny little thing.
After a decade of disastrous relationships and an infertility diagnosis, Gemma doesn’t want a Mr. Right (or even a Mr. Right Now), she just wants a baby.
And all she needs is an egg, some sperm, and IVF.
So Gemma makes a New Year’s resolution: have a baby.
Josh Lewenthal is a laid back, relaxed, find-the-humor-in-life kind of guy. The polar opposite of Gemma. He’s also her brother’s best friend. For the past twenty years Josh has attended every Jacobs’ family birthday, holiday, and event – he’s always around.
Gemma knows him. He’s nice (enough), he’s funny (-ish), he’s healthy (she thinks) and he didn’t burn any ants with a magnifying glass as a kid. Which, in Gemma’s mind, makes him the perfect option for a sperm donor.
So Gemma wants to make a deal. An unemotional, business-like arrangement. No commitments, just a baby.
It’s like he has some sort of super-psychic power that lets him know when a woman needs him. I think about him stealing my undies all those years ago and I realize that yes, he probably does have a secret power. Some sort of man radar—mandar.
We haven’t really spoken in years, except for the casual greeting at the New Year’s party or a “hi, how are you” at a random friends and family get together. Yet here he is, right when I need him.
I step into my bedroom and shut the door. Josh is spread out on my pink lace coverlet, his arms behind his head, and his legs crossed—the picture of relaxation. He’s in his standard outfit, faded jeans and a tight T-shirt depicting some obscure graphic novel character. His black hair needs a trim and he has at least two days’ worth of dark stubble on his face.
Even though I’m indifferent to him as a person and I know for a fact he’s not my type, my lady parts still clench. He’s that good looking.
He smirks at me, like he knows the effect he’s having. Here’s the thing about Josh, he’s completely unable to take life seriously. It’s like the whole universe is a funny joke to him, and he’s just living his life so he can be amused.
When he graduated from high school he was voted the most likely to succeed. He was captain of the football team, the basketball team, homecoming king and the valedictorian. Everyone thought he was going places. Especially me.
After he graduated from college he took a job at a tech start-up, worked his way up the ranks to VP, and then according to my brother, he just woke up one day and decided to quit. He walked into the office, took a box out of the supply closet, packed up his desk, and walked out. Ever since then he’s been doing his web comic thing. But I guess if he’s living with his dad again, it’s not going all that well.
I look him over. The thing is, I’m not sussing him out as a prospective husband, I don’t care about his career goals, how big his paycheck is, or whether he lives in his dad’s basement. I don’t care about his potential or non-potential as a life mate. I’m thinking about his genetics. And his genetics are just fine.
I close the door with a sharp snick.
“What are you doing on my bed?” I ask.
His eyes, always full of sharp intelligence, take in my sauce-covered dress and the blush still lingering on my cheeks.
“What are you doing covered in barbecue?” A small smile flits over his lips and his forehead wrinkles as he takes in my appearance.
My outfit from earlier is folded in a neat pile and sitting on my dresser. Josh starts to stand up.
“Stay there. I need to talk to you.”
I decide that rather than risk him leaving while I change, I’ll talk to him covered in sauce.
“Alright.” He scoots over and pats my bed.
I give him a look and he shrugs. “Sorry. I was up all night finishing a storyboard. Whenever I stayed the night with Dylan, your mom would always give me your bed to sleep in. I didn’t think, it just seemed natural to…”
He trails off when he sees the expression on my face. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that Josh has apparently been sleeping in my childhood bedroom for years.
I look at my dresser and realize that my teenage diary is in the top drawer hidden under my underwear. My skin prickles with, yup, that’s embarrassment. I look at the dresser then at Josh, but he doesn’t seem any different than usual. Maybe he’s not a snooper. Probably, yes, probably he never read it. Because if he had…errr…my teenage self was not shy about fantasizing about him.
I settle onto the mattress next to him.
He clears his throat and scoots over. “So what’s up?”
Oh God.
Am I really going to do this?
Can I do this?
It seemed perfectly reasonable and normal when I was planning it out after my doctor’s appointment. I looked more into donor sperm and weighed the benefits and detriments of donor versus Josh. Every way I looked at it, Josh came out on top.
He gives me a funny look. “Gemma? What’s up? You alright?”
“I need your sperm,” I blurt out.
Josh starts to choke, then he coughs. His face turns red and he hits his chest.
Oh no. I’ve killed him.
He coughs and his eyes water.
I slap his back and he shakes his head.
Maybe I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that, but I was nervous and I didn’t think.
Finally, he takes a wheezing breath and says, “Come again?”
“I…I need your sperm?”
I smile at him. The look he gives me makes my hand fly to my mouth in an effort to contain the laugh bubbling up from my chest. Oh jeez, I’ve lost my brain. I should’ve written talking points or a speech or something.
“You want to have sex?” Josh asks. He looks really confused. “Gemma. You really have to work on your pick-up lines.”
I shake my head. But he’s already starting to lift his shirt up. I catch a glimpse of rock-hard abs. “If you want to, we can. But we’ll have to hurry. The New Year’s Resolution reading is soon. We have maybe ten minutes. Not that I can’t blow your mind in ten minutes.”
I scoot back and make a strangled sound.
He takes in my expression and starts to snicker.
“Kidding. Gemma, I’m kidding,” he says, and he drops his shirt.
I nod and blow out a long, mind-clearing breath. “Sorry, I didn’t say that right. What I meant to say was, ummm, we’ve known each other a long time.”
“Twenty-four years,” he agrees.
“Right. We grew up in the same town. Went to the same school. You’re my brother’s best friend. You come to our holiday parties, birthdays. You’re always around.”
I scrutinize his face to see if he gets where I’m going. Unfortunately, he just looks confused.
“I feel like I know you pretty well. I can say that you’re a decent guy.”
He frowns. “Thanks.”
“If I ask you something, do you promise not to tell Dylan, or anybody?”
Josh leans back and studies me. “Gem, I don’t think we should have sex.”
I close my eyes. “No. No, jeez. Obviously. Ugh, did it once, got the T-shirt.”
I open one eye and look at him, then I open the other. He grins at me. “The T-shirt huh?”
Author Sarah Ready writes contemporary romance and romantic comedy. Her books have been described as “euphoric”, “heartwarming” and “laugh out loud”. Her debut novel The Fall in Love Checklist was hailed as “the unicorn read of 2020”. She loves to write fast-paced, emotionally compelling romances about quirky, smart women and the men who love them.
Before writing romance full-time Sarah had lots of fun teaching at an Ivy League. Then she realized she could have even more fun writing romance. Her favorite things after writing are adventuring and travel. You’ll frequently find her using her degree at a dino dig site, crawling into a cave, snorkeling, or on horseback riding through the jungle – all fodder for her next book. She’s lived in Scotland, Norway, Portugal, Switzerland and NYC. She currently lives in the Caribbean with her water-obsessed pup and her awesome family.
From the day I became the President of the Ruthless Sinners, I’d been known as one of the fiercest, most relentless MC presidents in the south.
I lead my men with honor and pride.
I never once wavered from what I believed was right for the club and for the brotherhood.
And even when it wasn’t easy—even when it meant putting their needs above my own—I’d always done everything in my power to keep the brothers and their families safe.
These were the demands of an MC president.
I was good with that. I had dedicated my life to the club and the club alone.
It was the only way I could face losing the only woman I’d ever loved.
But as fate would have it, I’d been given a second chance with her.
There was only one problem.
Another woman had caught me under her spell.
Two incredible women.
One impossible choice.Viper will have you rooting for forgiveness, mended hearts, and second chances. Viper’s Demands is a standalone MC romance with no cliffhanger and no cheating. These sexy bikers are foul-mouthed, possessive alphas who will do whatever it takes to protect the women they love. Enjoy the ride!
Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Seller, L. Wilder, writes about hot, alpha men and the women who love them. She currently has six series available for readers: The Devil Chaser’s MC, Satan’s Fury MC, Satan’s Fury MC-Memphis, the Redemption Series, the Happy Endings Collection, and the Ruthless Sinners MC. If you’re looking for a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat and have you smiling like a school girl at the end, L. Wilder is the author for you.
When you’ve lost everything – revenge is all that’s left…
After securing the convictions of two violent murderers for a horrific and brutal attack on a pensioner in his own home, Henry’s wife, Abi should be celebrating.
With the nation watching, it was her biggest test as a criminal lawyer.
But someone’s not happy.
First, there’s the hooded stranger who follows her home in the dead of night.
Then comes the attack on her car and a death threat in an anonymous hand-delivered letter.
Someone’s trying to scare them.
Someone wants revenge.
And they’ll stop at nothing until they’ve brought the couple to their knees – and exacted a deadly retribution…
Nothing Left To Lose is an electrifying psychological thriller from the No. 1 bestselling author of his Wife’s Sister.
It’s gone half nine and a niggle of worry rumbles in my gut. A vision of Abi on a hospital trolley flashes through my mind. I shove it away. I’m being silly. Worrying unnecessarily. I’m sure she’s fine.
I snatch up my phone and hit the redial button, willing her to answer, hoping for a slurred apology and the sound of music thumping in the background. At least I would know she was safe.
I listen to a long hiss-filled silence, the blood gushing through my ears.
A click.
Her voice.
And for a split second, I dare to believe I’m through.
‘Abi?’
‘You’ve reached Abigail Pilkington-Hutton. I can’t take your call right now but leave a message.’
I slump in my chair and pinch the bridge of my nose as I ring off, my heart beating a little faster and a little harder. A kaleidoscope of images of my wife’s body dumped by the side of the road, bleeding, lifeless, her eyes staring blankly, spiral through my head.
Stop it.
I refuse to be that husband. She’s perfectly capable of looking after herself. She’s not a child. And yet, I can’t help but worry.
Of course, the lasagne’s ruined. A fiery blast stings my face as I flip open the oven door. I step back to let the curls of steam rush towards the ceiling and peer inside despondently at the charred remains. Shavings of Parmesan cheese are blackened beyond salvation and crusty tracks of meat sauce have bubbled up and hardened over the sides of the ceramic dish. It’s as good as cremated, even though I turned the heat down hours ago.
I slam the door shut. Wasting good food irks me, especially when I’ve put effort into cooking. It’s not as if it’s one of those vile cardboard-tasting ready meals, straight out of a packet. It’s an authentic Italian recipe from a dusty old cookbook I picked up in a secondhand bookstore in town. I used a pinch of rosemary and cubes of pan-fried pancetta for the ragu and a sprinkling of nutmeg in the bechamel sauce. A surprise treat to celebrate the end of Abi’s trial.
I’ve lost count of the number of evenings and weekends she’s given up working on the case. The missed bedtime stories with the girls. The hours going through witness statements “one more time”. After everything she’s sacrificed over the last couple of months, I thought tonight we could spend some time together. But she’s not come home and her phone’s off.
AJ Wills is the number one Kindle bestselling author of multiple psychological thrillers.
He was a journalist for 20 years and also ran the communications department at a national charity in the UK.
He has been writing full time since March 2021 and runs the small independent publishing company, Cherry Tree Publishing, with his wife, AJ McDine, a fellow thriller author.
“I’ve always loved thrillers, but psychological thrillers hold a special interest for me because they’re about the scary, insane, disturbing things that happen to ordinary people – and we can all relate to them on some level,” he said.
He lives in Kent in the UK with wife, Amanda, their two teenage sons and two cats.
You can find out more about him by visiting his website: ajwillsauthor.com
