One minute I’m content just enjoying life with my club, running one of the businesses we own, and the next a woman sneaks her way under my skin for the first time in my life.
I never saw her coming.
Wild hair, almost black, and dark brown eyes star in my fantasies, but Paisley keeps herself out of reach. She’s shielded behind a solid brick wall that I want to knock down more than I’ve ever wanted anything. As I get to know her, my hero complex grows as fast as the chemistry burning between us. Maybe it’s just the former soldier and the sergeant at arms in me talking, but I want to protect her from both my past and whoever sent her running to Montana.
And I will protect her, because this woman is mine.
PAISLEY
Three months ago, I found out how much cruelty can flow through someone’s veins. My whole world collapsed, and suffocating fear for the most precious thing life has ever given me sent me running.
Now, Montana is my new home. For how long? Only time will tell.
But when fate puts a sturdy, intense biker in my path, everything changes. The connection between Seth and me is palpable, and it grows stronger every day that I get to know him. It lures us together despite my efforts to stay away. And clearly, I fail at staying away. Because soon, what scares me the most is no longer the dreadful ghost of my recent past.
Now, I’m terrified I’ll have to run away again and lose the man I’m falling in love with.
Looking ahead again before taking the couple of steps separating me from the railing, I sigh happily. “Thank you for the ride. I still feel guilty for the day off just a week after I started, but the ride was awesome.”
“Happy you enjoyed it.”
Oh, that I did. I enjoyed it. More than I should have. Because yes, the ride itself was a terrific experience, but I won’t even try to deny that I enjoyed being so close to him just as much. Seth is a fit man with hard muscles all over his body. I’m worried that just thinking of getting a peek at the abs I got a feel of will have me blushing like an eighteen-year-old virgin. It doesn’t help that every time I think about his body, I’m brought back to the memory of his kiss all over again.
“Why the blush, doll?”
Seth’s question has me freezing briefly.
Oh God.
My worries were warranted, quite obviously. I’m not going to bullshit him saying that I’m not blushing, because one, he’s standing beside me, which means that he sees my face just fine, and second, my cheeks now feel even more on fire. I don’t have to see them to know they’re red.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I’m just a little hot?” I answer his question with my own, joking nervously.
Not saying anything at first, Seth places his glass of water onto the flat railing before moving to stand behind me. Muscular, tattooed and tanned, his arms cage me in. But I don’t feel threatened by his move. All I feel is safety, and a whole lot of tingles on my skin even though he’s not even touching me.
“That depends on what kind of hot we’re talking about here. Are you feeling hot because of the mild sunrays, or because of whatever it is you were thinking about just now? I’d personally prefer the latter,” he says before asking me point blank, “What were you thinking about, doll?”
Wondering how words can even form in my mouth right now, I confess in a low voice. “Something I have no business thinking.”
“Can I be the judge of that?”
His breath flowing over the skin of my neck turns my brain into mush—I guess that’s what I get for wearing my hair up in a ponytail—but his question doesn’t sound rhetorical. So, before I chicken out, I answer his first question.
“I was thinking that you have a very fit body. Very hard abs. You know, I felt them during the ride,” I explain briefly, forcing myself to shut up because I know that my nervous self will have me stammering eventually.
His voice sounds one octave lower when he asks me, “And did you like them?”
The least I can say is that this man has no issue going straight to the point with his questions. I’m not a prude, but still, I’m out of my comfort zone right now.
“Seth…”
When I don’t say anything more than his name, he speaks again with a voice that’s even deeper, without a doubt because of the lust that’s growing thick between us.
“That’s not an answer, doll.” The teasing in his voice is as clear as the lust. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
What I’m feeling is pretty simple, but God, how can I voice something like that? I can’t bluntly tell him that I’m craving for him to kiss me with the same fierceness he kissed me with two days ago. Even more than that, I’m dying for his hands to let go of the railing and find a new place on me. We’re standing so close to each other, yet he feels so far away for what my body is crying out for. Even when he takes a step forward, bringing his front to meet my back, bringing his hard crotch to meet my ass, he still feels too far away.
I can’t believe what I’m doing. Well, technically, I’m not doing anything except standing here, but still.
“Tell me.” Seth whispers the command in my ear before his tongue comes out to flick over my earlobe.
“Touch me,” I blurt out, and for the next few seconds, I’m left speechless, shocked at my own words. But they’re out there, so I might as well get the confession out all the way. “I feel like I need you to touch me,” I say, basically saying the same thing, though I’m thankful that it comes out less like a desperate plea this time. “But it’d be a mistake,” I add without so much as a fleeting second of pause.
I mean that, but the furious need that has invaded every part of my body doesn’t recede even slightly.
C.M. Marin is an author of romantic suspense and contemporary romance.
She’s a small-town girl all the way. Quiet and nature are all she really needs… as long as there are books and a box full of assorted teas within easy reach!
She hasn’t found her own happily ever after yet, but she sure loves to write about falling in love and finding forever. With a touch of suspense, just the right amount of sexiness, and plenty of love, she writes books for every lover of romance around the world!
Title: Welcome to Visanthe Author: L.M. Sanguinette Genre: Young Adult Fantasy Romance
THE SHADOWS HAVE AWAKENED…
Raised on a small unassuming island in the Caribbean, with the kind of sleepy town lifestyle better suited to old fishermen than fiery young troublemakers, Savara believes she has her world all figured out—and hates it. Yet, on her eighteenth birthday—the anniversary of her parents’ death—she wakes up to find the only world she has ever known might have all been a lie.
An unexpected death and the appearance of a mysterious off-worlder force Savara to question everything she has ever known as she and Jasper—her “only adventurous in books” best friend—are thrust into a new world, faced with a task that will not only determine their fates, but the fate of an entire nation. The shadows of a long-forgotten past have awakened with a thirst for blood. Will she be able to stop them from devouring everything in their path? Or will she fall victim to her own demons?
Join them on their journey to a world of elemental magic, where the lines of good and evil have been distorted, and truth is most often paid for in blood.
When she was younger, Savara used to listen to the stories her uncle would tell with rapt attention, wishing that they were real. Fantastical beasts, fires that lived, oceans that sang, people who moved like gods… Sometimes she even wished to be one of them, the people who could move stones with their mind, summon fire at the twitch of their fingers, create gigantic waves or powerful winds with the flick of their wrists, or even steal light from the world around them.
“My uncle used to tell me stories…” she said cautiously, unwilling to divulge too much of her memories. “I think they were about this place. About the creatures that call it home, and what they’re capable of…” When the man didn’t reply, she added, “They weren’t just stories.” Savara waited for an answer to the not-quite-question that might ease her worries.
His pause felt eternal. The flickering of the lamp’s flame filled the space where words should’ve been. Finally, he took a breath. “No.”
Back then, his stories seemed to resonate with something inside her, which she mistook for longing. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Besides, from what she now remembered, none of his stories ever ended well.
“They weren’t happy stories,” she continued.
“Not all stories are happy, no matter the world.”
Thinking back on all the strange tales her uncle had filled her head with over the years, she realised that part of the pleasure in stories is that they are just that, stories, things to imagine without facing consequences. No one gives a second thought to the monsters that lurk in the shadows so long as the hero is safe at the end. But hearing a story is different from living it. She couldn’t simply close the book when she got scared or skip to the end to know everything would be alright. Savara didn’t like the new sensation taking root in the pit of her stomach, the one that left her wondering what exactly it meant to not be human, and in Jasper’s case, to be one in a world that wasn’t.
L. M. Sanguinette was born on a small island in the Caribbean, where the palm trees watched over her like giants and the sea crept up to her feet to say “hello”. Nowadays she can be found in one of the many hidden coffee shops of Madrid conversing with the spirits of the old city.
A sizzling romance of supernatural thrills, impossible choices, and heart-stopping adventure.
When Estrella Milton moves to the mysterious Home for Girls after an explosion left her orphaned and amnesic, she’s haunted by strange visions that hint her entire existence is a lie.
Desperate to discover her true identity, Estrella begins investigating her past only to uncover dark and terrifying secrets of her abilities. Her life spins further out of control when she meets Dion and Tristan, two rivals for her heart. One who wants to protect her from the past while the other wants her to embrace it.
As she debates who to trust, she unwittingly thrusts herself and her friends at the Home for Girls into a far greater danger than she could ever imagine. But once she starts remembering, she realizes it’s too late to go back to who she once was. And her secret is too powerful to be contained.
CHRISTINA FARLEY is the author of the Gilded series, THE PRINCESS AND THE PAGE, THE DREAM HEIST, and THE IMMORTAL SECRET. When not traveling the world or creating imaginary ones, she spends time with her family in Clermont, Florida with her husband and two sons where they are busy preparing for the next World Cup, baking cheesecakes, and raising a pet dragon that’s in disguise as a cockatiel. Visit her at ChristinaFarley.com.
Originally on Kindle Vella! If she couldn’t catch him with honey…Violence will have to do. Power, Money and Beauty; Ira Dante had it all. She was the woman of his dreams. All Tristan had to do was say “yes” and she would give him anything he could dream of. But all that money came from trafficked drugs, stolen weapons, and mountains of bloodied corpses. All that power lead to sadistic rages and nightmarish madness. Underneath her beauty was a monster that threatened to rip him apart.
Simply put: Ira was batshit insane.
So Tristan refused; their relationship was built on pretty little lies hiding the hideous truth and as a vigilante, he spent years working against criminal empires like the Dante Family. Unfortunately, Ira was a woman who never took ‘no’ for an answer and she has long learned that all is fair in love and war.
He kept hold of that thought. Those words kept him away from the fog of sensation.
Or the lack of thereof.
His cheeks and ears burned, tears falling as he remembered the humiliation. His neck was so heavy and his nerves kept firing jolts through him, again and again.
After he had spilled himself all over Ira’s hand and the floor, the heaven he had tasted was quickly replaced with hell.
The shock of his own body betraying him had revealed the extent of his mutilation.
He begged for her to touch him.
Begged for her to hurt him.
“You ruined me…”
He bit his bottom lip, breaking the skin again, chewing on the wound while sobs vomited from his mouth. His hands, freed from the shackles, moving to touch his side and the mottled scar tissue that was left. He had burnt charred marks all over his body from the electric shocks, deep primal welts on his chest and shoulder.
He sniffled his choking gasps, “I… I’ve been mauled by a lion. A lion who… who is the biggest bitch in the world.” His gasps and chuckles devolved into a laugh, hands moving to the floor. An airy laugh that heaved out of his maimed chest, his lungs working overtime to suck in breath, “Wh-what a fucking story this will be! When I get-get out of here…” His laughter slowed, eyes heavy, tears still dripping from sticky, clumped lashes, “If… if I get out of here.”
“Perfect. You are perfect… my precious Tristan.”
“Biggest, most psychotic bitch in the whole fucking world…” His brow furrowed and he run his nails against the floor, leaving shallow indents. He took in a heaving breath, trying to focus in on the anger from his humiliation, from her disfigurement of him.
Yet underneath that anger, that embarrassment, was a deep sorrow. A sinking despair came forth from one simple thought.
“… Wasn’t I perfect before?”
… stop.
“Wasn’t I good enough?”
Stop.
His knuckles rapped onto the floor, doubt and panic overtaking his mind, his anger devolving into an old anxiety. The darkness of the cell, only a bit of light sneaking in from the narrow slit under the heavy doors, fed into the ravenous despair that filled his head, “Wasn’t I beautiful enough?” His knuckled kept tapping against the floor, skin scraping off. “Didn’t I please you enough?”
“All I want is you.”
Blood and peeled flesh trailed after his knuckles. The skin rubbed raw. The burn ran up from his fingers and sent sparks alight. Even this small amount of pain made him moan, eyes rolling back slightly. “Wasn’t hurt-hurting me enough?”
STOP.
He couldn’t stop.
How her skin felt when they first touched. Warm, kissed by the daylight. How her head pressed against his shoulder, just under his chin. Those curls coiling around him, wrapped around his fingers.
“Wasn’t my touch enough?”
His lips pressed against hers, softly at first, then deeper, his tongue caressing hers, her hand stroking his cheek before her fingers curled in his locks, pulling him close.
“My kisses… weren’t they enough?”
He turned to his stomach, his forehead pressed against the ground, his bleeding, raw knuckles pressed hard against as he pushed his weight up on them, “What more did you want from me?!”
Coda Languez is a Software Engineer by day and an Artist/Author by night. She is lover of all things anime, horror, and comic related, making her a true geek in all aspects. Heavily influenced by the works of Satoshi Kon, Kouta Hirano, Francesca Lia Block, and Clive Barker, Coda mixes black comedy, horror, magic realism, and dark romance into her works, creating an ‘it’s complicated’ relationship between readers and her anti-heroic, even villainous protagonists.
When she is not programming in her day job or writing psychological terrifying romances and dark action comedies in the night hours, Coda often binges on anime, fantasy, and sci-fi sagas and indulges in competition reality tv (a guilty pleasure). She is the mother of an adorable toddler and his Pembroke Welsh Corgi brothers, and wife to an awesome and often exasperated husband.
For information on Coda’s latest works, visit codemonkeyarts.com or connect with her on social media via @codemonkeyarts.
For weeks, he stood by my side, twisting his words into pretty half-truths. He enraptured me with his smooth temptation, leaving no corner of my being untouched. He consumed my mind and my body, then finally claimed my heart for himself. But Caelum’s true identity is terrifying enough to bring me to my knees.
Then, I discovered the truth of who he is.
Caldris is whispered in the Nothrek wind. The legend we only speak of with hushed words, in shuttered rooms, for fear of drawing his wrath once again. His intentions are a mystery, his desires impure, and he seeks to shackle me to his side for all eternity. With the Wild Hunt as our guard, he points us back to where it all began: the village of Mistfell and the boundary where the Veil once shimmered in the wind.
Now, another secret crouches, poised to change everything.
The Mist Guard have been sworn to keep us from crossing into Alfheimr, and from treading Faerie soil, even if innocents must pay with their lives. They have orders to resurrect Mistfell’s shimmering barrier, but, once again, there’s a greater cost than what has been revealed. Once, the people of Northrek blamed me when the Veil fell.
Soon, they’ll want me to pay the price the magic requires.
Adelaide Forrest is a USA Today & Amazon Top 40 Bestselling author of dark and gritty romance, such as the Bellandi Crime Syndicate and Beauty in Lies series. Adelaide fell in love with books at a young age and quickly discovered her love for writing soon after. She wrote short stories and then delved into full-length fiction at ten-years-old. Since then, she’s created over 350 book ideas and hoarded them over the years.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found spending time with her two young children, dog, and cat. She enjoys traveling, chocolate, chai tea, and most importantly, being with her family.
Title: The Light After the Orange Author: Beverly J. Hall Series: The Tundra Stone Series #1 Genre: Post-Apocalyptic
EVEN IN A DYING WORLD, IS SURVIVAL ENOUGH?
After the Orange and the catastrophic devastation of Earth, magic began to seep in—but will it help Alex Chegasa survive?
Hidden and protected by magic, she grew up embracing her gifts. After witnessing the only people she can call family being murdered, eighteen-year-old Alex must choose between her head and her heart in her search for a place to belong. But, her hunt for a home means having to hide her magic.
All the while, in the shadows, eight-hundred-year-old Fae Billey NicNevin, suffering from amnesia, is rediscovering her magic.
Are their fates intertwined?
What if the fantastical stories Alex’s mother told her as a child were true?
ALL MYTHS ARE BASED ON TRUTH
Sales Copy: Eighteen-year-old Alex Chegasa, one of the first generation to be raised on post-apocalyptic Earth, was taught to embrace her magical gifts.
After the Orange, as the planet burned, magic trickled in. The bombs that had wiped out most life ripped open the barrier between worlds. Can the next generation, connected to the magic, be the solution to mankind’s problems or are they destined to repeat the mistakes of their ancestors?
Did the Orange, the very thing that ravaged the planet, also provide the solution? Or is magic more than a coincidence?
While Alex searches for somewhere to belong, in Massachusetts, she questions if survival is enough when she comes to understand that magic, used by the wrong people, could be more dangerous than the power of the generations before her.
Meanwhile, in a parallel story, we meet eight-hundred-year-old Fae, Billey NicNevin. With a past she doesn’t remember, she struggles to fit into Nuadh Caled (New Scotland) as it rebuilds itself. When she meets a woman whose soul calls to her, will she find her missing piece or tumble into insanity?
Are their destinies connected?
WHAT IF THE FANTASTICAL STORIES FROM ALEX’S CHILDHOOD WERE TRUE?
Loneliness ate me up from the inside, nibbling away at me and leaving an aching emptiness. I didn.t know what I missed or who I missed but knew, deep in the part of my soul that holds my intuition, there was a person-size hole nobody could fix, except for the one.
The person we all hunt for but so rarely find. The person we were made to fit with. The one imperfect, perfect, mismatch our soul longs for. *
The trees gathered around me and protected me from the breeze that grew and took on a new life. I rested against the rough bark of the largest tree, my rear now sitting into the roots that formed a seat in the ground. The tree, I almost believed, was shaped for me. Its branches wrapped around my tiny form as I snuggled among the roots. The wind grazed my cheek and I pulled my scarf around my face, desperate to stay here for every second possible.
The sound of the wind howling through the branches vibrated the leaves and created a voice I longed to understand. I closed my eyes, listening, imagining I could hear the voices of the trees. I felt my soul combine with the tree, and contentment that existed nowhere else in my life melted my anguish and pain. My eyes shot open and I stared at where Geilis had been moments earlier. Empty space filled my view. I was, again, alone.
Beverley J. Hall was born in Kent, England, and raised in Scotland. Most of her childhood was spent with her nose in a book, and her love of stories was born.
While studying Art and Design, she discovered her love of storytelling, whether with paint, sculpture, fabric, or words.
After completing an MA in Creative Writing, she is now living her best life, writing stories at the seaside with her son, her granddaughter, and her cat Bertie.
Head over to TikTok, Instagram, or Twitter to join her overthinking and daydreaming (she’s still hoping for a pet dragon).
The bonds of family go well beyond blood. But can those bonds hold when the blood itself carries a devastating secret?
Fenlee’s opal necklace had always radiated a certain warmth since her mother’s death. But now, at sixteen, her world begins to unravel as the stone sparks to life, revealing itself to be an otherworldly artifact of untold power.
Between her mechatronics studies at the academy and scavenging expeditions beneath the sprawling city of New Cascadia, Fenlee and her adopted brother, Elliot, try to decipher the mysteries of her necklace and its link to events in Fenlee’s past.
But they’re not alone in their search.
Strange undercity dwellers offer cryptic warnings, drones track their movements, and deadly corporate agents lurk in the shadows. When tragedy rips Fenlee’s family apart, she must learn to use the artifact’s power to save those who are deeply precious to her. But nothing can prepare her for the dark truths that she will uncover on that journey…
“Lee,” Elliot mumbled. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Thoughts of etherclaw and worries about her father had kept Fenlee up, so she’d spent almost the entire night installing and integrating the Elixir chip to keep her mind elsewhere. She got it working, but sleep still wouldn’t come, so she composed a message to her father. It’d be expensive to send, but she had to say something.
Hi, Dad. Hope you’re well. Me? I’m great. Except that I’ve been shitting myself because, you know, aer Mom died, we all promised we’d never leave each other. And that’s kind of what you’re best at these days. But, hey, it’s all fine because I found a chip that’s most likely stolen and worth probably half this apartment block, but in order to get it to work, I had to go into the Lunarinto Market for an adapter. But the adapter wasn’t exactly free, so I’m going to start working a part-time job while you’re gone to pay it off. In the Lunarinto Market. You know, the place you hate for me to even go near. One of my legs is just short enough to be constantly uncomfortable because I decided to wreck the one you gave me, my underwear is somehow still riding up my ass from the bike ride home yesterday, and I’m hyperaware of how bad my pits stink. Doesn’t matter because I got no sleep and I don’t have time to do much about it before academy. Also, Mom’s opal, which isn’t real, by the way, might actually be some kind of weird magic device from aliens. Woo! Oh, and your adopted son is smuggling a stray cat. Thought you should know. Don’t get yourself blown up. Love you!
She stared at the comm unit for an eternity before deleting it. Her opal felt cold on her chest in the morning gloom.
Matty Roberts began their career in journalism where they earned an Emmy and had the privilege of working on several other award-winning projects. They hold an MS from Johns Hopkins University and are now an engineer in renewable energy in Denver, Colorado where they live with their wonderful partner, two extraordinary kids, and the best doggie ever.
In addition to writing, engineering, and parenting, Matty is a vegan enby nerd who is in love with this world and will forever be doing all they can to make it a better place. And they may be known to occasionally play in a punk band here or there.
Elena has always been a disappointment. Her magic is practically non-existent and now, on her sixteenth birthday, she is expelled from magic school by the strict headmistress–also known as her mother. Cast out into the world of the magically inept with only her familiar for company, Elena feels lost and alone until she meets a strange boy in the woods.
Quinn is a thief, a hunter, and a hothead. His unexpected friendship with Elena awakens a fiery side in him–quite literally–and uncovers new and surprising magical abilities. Except men aren’t supposed to be capable of magic.
With Quinn’s help, Elena carves a safe new life as a barmaid, but when she is attacked, her powers awaken with shocking ferocity. Elena’s explosion of magic creates a power surge that attracts the attention of magical investigators, sent to uncover and contain the source of the power surge.
But the awakening of their powers kickstarts an ancient prophecy. Will they be able to escape those that hunt them? Can they fulfill the prophecy, destroy the turmio and save magic from being destroyed once and for all?
When you grow up in an orphanage, you learn to read people pretty quickly. When you grow up in an orphanage run by an abusive drunk and his neglectful wife, you learn that everyone is full of shyt and you have to fend for yourself if you want to survive. The former enabled Quinn to do the latter. Reading people helped him find good marks, then he and Lyra would rob them blind. Lyra was quick and clever, like most foxes, but she was special. She could start fires with the flick of her tail, which came in very handy when you needed to distract a mark to pickpocket them, or on cold nights when you didn’t have an actual roof or walls to protect you from the harsh frost seasons. He’d learned long ago that they had to take care of themselves. That meant doing whatever it took to survive.
Q didn’t like looting corpses, but he wasn’t above it either; sometimes they had the best shyt. When he saw her lying there half-curled against the cold, on the side of the road just outside the Dark Woods, he couldn’t pass up the golden opportunity. She had a whole bag of who-knows-what lying next to her. It could just be food, but it could be decent enough stuff to sell or use themselves. Even if it was food, he and Lyra weren’t exactly feasting these days. Besides, she was dead. What did a dead girl need with whatever was in that bag?
“Lyra, you know the drill,” he whispered. As a fox, she was innately adept at sneaking, which was why she always made the initial approach. They’d tried other ways when they first started out on their own, but this was by far the most effective. Q sat back, partially hidden behind an old oak tree, and waited.
As Lyra crept closer, he could feel her heart rate slow and her senses heighten. She was inches from the corpse when he felt a violent shock, as though he’d been struck by lightning. He cried out, as did Lyra, before nearly blacking out. Q pulled himself from behind the tree, barely able to crawl to his knees before a second, more powerful blast struck them and he keeled over completely.
Mallory lives in Texas with her husband and their two young boys. She spends her days homeschooling and full-time parenting. Her nights, and any free time she manages to carve out during the day, are devoted to reading and writing.
Hera has reigned over Olympus and humanity for millennia. Seen as cold, sarcastic, and callous, she uses this to her advantage, keeping everyone, including her sisters, at a distance. It’s a lonely life, but it worked, until the Titans decided that breaking her father out of Tartarus was a good idea. A move that put her and her sisters against the Titans in a battle for their thrones upon Olympus.
Dr. Viktor Alden understands being alone. As a man who has spent his immortal life as a nomad, living with an oath that has kept him from allowing anyone to really know him, he is fascinated by the enigmatic woman who quite literally runs the world. Too bad they have a battle they may not win, or even live through, for him to learn the intricacies that make up the Queen of the Goddesses.
Now, two people who have spent their entire lives distrusting the world must learn to trust each other if they want to survive the upcoming war.
C.D. Britt began her writing journey when her husband told her she needed to use her excessive imagination to write stories as opposed to creating a daily narrative for him. Ever since she penned her first words, life has been a lot more peaceful for him.
She currently resides in Texas where she has yet to adapt to the heat. Her husband thrives in it, so unfortunately they will not be relocating to colder climates anytime soon.
Their two young children would honestly complain either way.
When she is not in her writing cave (hiding from the sun), she enjoys ignoring the world as much as her children will allow with a good book, music, and vast amounts of coffee (until it’s time for wine).
C.D. Britt is the author of Shadows and Vines and the upcoming book, Sirens and Leviathans.
Both books are part of the Reign of Goddesses series.
I’m not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland.
Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends.
So what is Chris “Fletch” Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he’s pattern matching a picture to find a real person he’s never met before?
Oh.
Oh, no.
The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.
It was supposed to be simple. Graduate, get a job to keep my mom from drowning in mountains of medical debt, and maybe score a scholarship to a decent college.
All of that changed in a single breath. Because it turns out I’m not human. And I just knocked out the power on an entire city block.
In a split second, all of my carefully-laid plans go up in smoke. There’s no chance for college because I’m being hauled off to Kingwood Academy. They say it’s for my own protection and those around me. But I know one thing for sure…
I’m not welcome here.
The mean girls don’t stop at insults and tripping you in the halls. They’re wielding magic that could cost me my life. And the rest of the school sees me as either a halfling that should be cast out or a powerhouse to be brought down.
Everyone except them.
The charmer. The gentle giant. The psychopath. And maybe even the cruel prince.
The royals of Kingwood Academy have taken me under their wing and I can’t help but notice how my skin hums when they touch me. I shouldn’t be dreaming about a single one of them, let alone all four. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
Only someone doesn’t like the attention the royals are showing me. And when the attacks start, the princes will do anything to protect me. But they don’t know the true evil we face. The kind who will do whatever it takes to seize our power, even if that means stealing the very last breath from our lungs…
“I was in a fire.” I blurted it out in the hopes it might distract those two from coming to blows. But I had no idea what came after that fact.
Atlas turned back to me. “When?”
“I was eight. We still don’t know exactly how it started.”
Kai let one hand drop away but left the other on my neck, his thumb stroking back and forth. “But you got out.”
“I almost didn’t.” The words were barely a whisper. “I got trapped in my bedroom. The window was too high to jump out of. The fire was outside my door. I hid in the closet. The floor beneath me collapsed and I fell through to the basement, and a beam landed on top of me. Thought I was going to die.” I rubbed at the raised skin on the inside of my arm.
Phoenix stalked forward, grabbing my arm. He let out a string of curses. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged. “I told you I didn’t like fire.”
“But not that you’d been burned. I wouldn’t have pushed so hard if I’d known you’d been through this.”
I tried to tug my arm free, but he held firm.
Atlas studied the scars leading up my arm as Phoenix held it. “You’re okay? Those look bad.
I gave my arm a hard yank and finally broke away from Phoenix’s hold. I wanted a sweatshirt more than anything right now, but I hadn’t shoved one in my bag this morning. “I know they look gross, but they aren’t that bad.”
Atlas got right up in my personal space. “That wasn’t what I said and it sure as hell wasn’t what I meant.” He lifted my arm gently and traced his fingers over the mottled and twisted skin. “There isn’t a thing about you that isn’t beautiful. But I know these mean you were in excruciating pain. That you were terrified. That’s what I meant by bad.”
I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. “Oh.”
His lips twitched. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers tangling in the waves. “I could only ever see beauty when I look at you.”
Atlas leaned forward and my breath caught, but this time for an entirely different reason than panic. He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth.
The buzz that lit my muscles was like nothing I’d experienced before. It was its own form of fire that terrified me in a completely different way. Sensation swept through me like a flood on the heels of the buzz.
Atlas jerked back, his fingers flying to his mouth and eyes going wide. “What the hell was that?”
