Dominic Salem is many things: professional ghost hunter, curse breaker, and demon slayer to name a few. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s never pick up hitchhikers. Something about this one made him stop, though. Maybe he hasn’t learned his lesson yet.
Lavinia “Vinny” Wake doesn’t exactly trust her smoking hot ride. Her music is her sanctuary, the only thing she really believes in. But now, Vinny’s dreams have her all messed up, and the last one seemed too…real.
Dom can tell Vinny’s nightmares aren’t just dreams—they’re way worse. Something or someone is drawing her into a trap, and Dom has to stop it. Turns out Vinny’s life isn’t the only thing at stake. Her soul is on the line, too. No pressure.
The debut novel in The Brothers Salem, a new contemporary paranormal romance series where a trio of demon hunters–armed with spells and snark–are on a mission to slay some demons, break some curses, and get their girls. Unless the girls get them first
The sun crawled westward, hotter every minute. Vinny kept walking, relieved to be out of the creep’s car, but aware that this was not a great spot to be stranded. A low, pulsing headache began in the back of her neck and slowly spread upward. Sweat trickled down her face and the back of her neck in a steady stream. Her jeans were plastered to her skin. She wanted water. She needed water. She waited as long as she could to drink the last drop from her bottle, but it was mid-afternoon now, and things were starting to look pretty bad.
She automatically looked behind her every five minutes or so, hoping, praying that some speck in the distance would turn out to be a good Samaritan in an air conditioned SUV filled with lemonade.
Nothing.
Then she did a double take. Something glinted in the distance, the flash of sunlight on chrome.
She turned toward it and waited. Through the shimmering heat, a shape appeared. It was a motorcycle, not a car.
She moved to the very edge of the baking-hot asphalt and held up one hand, waving to it.
A miracle occurred.
The bike started to slow down.
She watched as the motorcycle slowed further, then stopped. The guy driving it put one foot on the ground, steadying the bike. He pulled his helmet off and pushed his black hair away from his face.
Wow.
Vinny was glad she had her sunglasses on, because she knew she was ogling him. He was hot. Smoking hot. All bad boy in faded jeans and a shiny black leather jacket.
Are you kidding me? Vinny thought. The one person to stop looks like more of a threat than the guy who left me here?
The guy looked her over, too, though she couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those very pretty eyes.
Elizabeth Cole is a romance author with a penchant for history, which is why she lives in an old house in an old city. She can be found hanging around libraries and archives, or curled in a corner reading, cat on lap. She believes in love at first sight. Then again, she also believes that mac ‘n’ cheese is a healthy breakfast, so don’t trust her judgment on everything.
Elizabeth writes the Secrets of the Zodiac series of romantic spy thrillers set in the Regency period. The eighth novel, BREATHLESS IN THE DARK, is now available.
Elizabeth recently completed her Swordcross Knights series of medieval romances set in the beguiling world of Britannia during the period known as “The Anarchy”. Start today with HONOR & ROSES.
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.
That’s right.
Feisty.
Any choices available to her will ultimately lead to sacrifices. Fay must figure out what she is ready to sacrifice—her heart, her soul, or even…her life.
“You could have come to me,” she mumbled miserably. “I could have helped.”
“How?” I countered. “It was ridiculous. Crazy.” I pulled back. “I got weak. I got stupid. I got reckless. When shit got hard, and I wanted to get high, I’d jack off instead. The sex…” I ground my teeth. “It didn’t happen as often as you think. When it did, it was after a meltdown, after I got high.
“I’ll never be able to earn your forgiveness, Keira. Never. And that’s okay.” I released a shaky breath. “I realized that tonight. You don’t have to forgive me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. I won’t. I’ll never stop. If I have to spend the rest of my life— It doesn’t matter. Nothing does apart from you and Cyan.”
“Does it hurt?”
I frowned. “Jacking off twenty times a day?”
“No.” Her voice was small. “I asked you before and you said no, but I don’t believe you. The padlock… does it hurt?”
It hadn’t back then. But I’d upped the gauge with another custom-built device.
“Yes.” It fucking ached like a son of a bitch.
“So, instead of drugs, and rather than jack off or fuck to escape the drugs, you’re self-harming?”
“It’s working.”
“You’re self-harming,” she repeated grittily.
“I haven’t had sex in months. I haven’t jacked off in months either. It’s working, Keira.”
“It’s not a sustainable solution.”
“It’s breaking the habit. I won’t cheat on you again. I won’t. I can’t.”
“Even if I never take you back? Even when I get a boyfriend?”
My jaw ached with how hard I clenched down. “Even then.”
A shocked breath escaped her. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
“Because you leaving me… I hit rock bottom. I’ve been there so many fucking times, K. So many times. I’m so sick of being on the ground, looking up. Trying to fix my fuck ups, to make shit right. I can’t do it again. I can’t. I can’t want to end it all again—”
“Suicide?” she interrupted, a horrified gasp to her words.
“You’ve no idea how many times I almost tried. I don’t want you to know. I just… I did the best I could, and that was nothing in comparison to what you brought to our family. I let you down. I let Cy down. But I won’t do it again.”
The sound of an engine rumbled to life, half pipes with it, and when a solitary light pierced the kitchen window, I wasn’t altogether surprised that the biker was coming to our house. I’d given the security guard a heads up to let a brother through the gates, just in case Rex or Digger arrived, but now wasn’t the best timing.
Not when, finally, I felt like Keira saw me for what I truly was.
A nothing.
A nobody.
An addict.
Worthless.
Trash.
And yet she still held me.
She didn’t push away from me.
She didn’t act as if my touch were poison to her.
I swallowed, affected more than she could know by her generosity, her selflessness.
How didn’t she realize how perfect she was?
How beautiful a person she was?
It hurt me. It physically hurt me. Which was why, there and then, I vowed that would be part of my recovery too.
I’d fix me, I’d try to fix us, but I’d fix her as well.
I’m a romance bookaholic and I won’t touch a book unless I know there’s a happy ending. This addiction is what made me craft stories that suit my voracious need for raunchy romance. I love twists and unexpected turns, and my novels all contain sexy guys, dark humor, and hot AF love scenes.
I write MF, Menage, and Reverse Harem (also known as Why Choose romance,) in both contemporary and paranormal. Some of my stories are darker than others, but I can promise you one thing, you will always get the happy ending your heart needs!
Title: Warrior Priest Author: Kate Hill Genre: Science Fiction Romance
What happens when a warrior priest from a strict religion meets a free-spirited priestess from a new age commune? Jade and Selena are as different as two people can be, but to facilitate an alliance between their worlds, they engage in a cultural exchange. With their galaxy in danger from a planet that wants to conquer or destroy all others, they realize the importance of their assignment, but it is difficult for a warrior priest and a nonviolent priestess to understand each other. Selena is both attracted and appalled by his old school masculinity, and Jade is tempted to break his vow of celibacy until marriage due to his powerful desire for her. Will this unlikely pair not only find common ground, but unconditional love?
“This is our last stop before the ceremony,” Ari Tobias said.
They walked through the courtyard to where dozens of priests engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Some wrestled, others kicked and punched, and others dueled with machetes.
They paused in a circular area where three priests attacked one.
“That’s Ari Jade.” Ari Tobias nodded toward the priest who fought the three. “He’s among those being honored at the ceremony today.”
Tall and broad with long limbs, Ari Jade moved like a predator. His braid lashed behind him as he defended against the attacking priests. The severe hairstyle did nothing to hide his remarkably large ears. His high-collared black uniform clung damply to his lithe, powerful body. A red-haired priest grasped him from behind, and he easily tossed the man onto his back and struck him in the stomach just seconds before spinning and kicking the second priest. The third lunged at him and for several seconds they traded blows before the redhead kicked Ari Jade’s legs out from under him. He landed with a grunt, partly breaking his fall with an extended arm. He kicked two priests and twisted to avoid a punch from the third.
“Is something wrong, Elspeth?” Ari Tobias asked, a smirk in his voice. His gaze fixed on the dark-haired priestess.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand how all this bloodshed fits with religion.”
“Probably because our religion is quite different than yours. Whereas you’re upset by this, your companion seems fascinated.”
It took Selena a moment to realize that he’d been referring to her. For some strange reason, she couldn’t keep her gaze from Ari Jade. There was something almost savage about him. Some might consider his heavy features ugly—except for his eyes. They were dark, almond-shaped, and more intense than lasers. A faded scar—like a slice from a dagger—cut across his right eyebrow. He both frightened and fascinated her.
A gong sounded and the priests stopped training. At that moment, Ari Jade turned and stared directly into Selena’s eyes. A shiver ran down her spine again, but this time it was as much from desire as from fear. Ari Jade unsettled her, but she wouldn’t allow him to intimidate her. She stared back at him, refusing to break contact no matter how much she wanted to look away.
The red-headed priest punched Ari Jade amiably in the shoulder, drawing his attention away from Selena. Grateful for his distraction, she released a pent-up breath.
“It’s time to prepare for the ceremony,” Ari Tobias announced and led the way back to the temple.
Elspeth followed close behind him, but Selena hung back for a moment, her gaze fixed once more on Ari Jade. He turned to her. His dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed and his lips twitched in an animal-like snarl. To drive off her fear and discomfort, she again noted the size of his ears and decided that she would now think of him as Ari Donkey. She couldn’t keep from smiling, and Jade scowled, their gazes still locked.
During all the time I spend with Nix, I’ve been letting myself believe that lies of omission aren’t really lies. And the lies I do tell her—my name and where I’m from—don’t really matter compared to the deeper truths I lay bare. She knows my genuine feelings, my fears, my likes, and dislikes . . . things that seem so much more essential than my fake history.
Perversely, I liked watching her talk to my mom. I saw my mother look Nix over with the slightly raised eyebrow that indicated she had encountered an object of interest. It would have killed me to see my mom dismiss Nix as boring.
Best of all was the knowledge that Nix had sought me out that day. That she had gone looking all over campus for a purpose that seemed glaringly clear the moment we were alone.
Her eyes roved over me. She had the hunter’s determination to bring me down and not go home again starving.
I’ve been wanting to fuck Nix since the moment she stepped out of the underground pool. Hell, I might even have felt that first flaring lust the moment I laid eyes on her crossing campus. That burst of sudden heat . . . it wasn’t all hatred.
I tell myself I can’t do it, that it would be wrong to sleep with her under false pretenses.
But every second I’m around her, I’m losing control. It’s like the day I boxed Dean—each glance from her eyes, or bite of her lip is like another blow, knocking me senseless. Tearing off my veneer and taking me back to the man I used to be: prince of the West Coast. My father’s right-hand man, running his business, preparing to take over someday. Surrounded by women and friends, wealth pouring in . . .
That man had confidence. He didn’t have to hide. He never pretended to be weaker, shyer, lesser. He never compromised his integrity with lies.
I want to be myself with Nix, not this alias. I want her to know me, not him. I want to fuck her as myself.
Sophie Lark is an Amazon Bestselling author who writes intense, intelligent romance, with heroines who are strong and capable, and men who will do anything to capture their hearts. She lives with her husband, two boys, and baby girl in the Rocky Mountain West.
She has a slight obsession with hiking, bodybuilding, and live comedy shows. Her perfect day would be taking the kids to Harry Potter World, going dancing with Mr. Lark, then relaxing with a good book and a monster bag of salt and vinegar chips.
When I answered an ad for a caretaker at Saint Mark’s Sanctuary I thought I’d be dusting chandeliers and polishing floors. I didn’t expect to be tricked into a curse, going in debt to a monster, and being forced to take a self-paced “Let’s Learn Magic” course so I can fix a two-thousand-year-old problem.
And that monster?
Not your ordinary, everyday beast.
He has hooves, and horns, and fur on his legs.
But ya know where he doesn’t have fur?
Yep. There.
Which is fine.
Except he doesn’t wear pants.
Nothing at Saint Mark’s is exactly what it seems.
The entire inside is magic, the hallways upstairs are nothing but parties from the past, and the super-hot guy who lives in the dungeon?
Yeah.
Not human.
My name is Pie and all I want is to be a normal girl with an average life.
I refuse to get stuck in this curse.
I refuse to learn magic to break it.
And there is no way in hell I will fall in love with a monster.
“If this kills you, you should thank me. Since you’re immortal. That means your curse would be broken.”
Well. She’s got a point there. I put the test tube up to my lips, almost pass out from the horrible smell, then down it in one gulp. It hits my stomach with a burn.
“The burn passes,” Pie says hurriedly. And she puts her hand on my arm, either faking compassion or really meaning it.
Her touch is warm too. And something about it does make me feel better. Soon, the burn is gone and in its place is a tingling feeling in my hands. Then a buzzing in my head.
“Did you get to the buzzing yet?” she asks. I nod. “Good. You’re almost there. Now, while we’re waiting for it to work, let’s talk about this job.”
“No.” I put up a hand. “Not now.”
“Yes. I need a job. Just a part-time one. The Honey Bean is looking for a waitress. I need that, Pell. And I will use all my money to buy what we need and then I won’t have to go into debt.”
“You don’t get it. That won’t work. The harder you fight the curse, the more it works against you. The less magic money you use, the more the curse will force you to use it. Bad things will happen. And that will force you to work harder to…” I pause, not really wanting to say the last bit.
“Harder to what?” she presses.
“Please me. The harder you’ll have to work to please me with the debt book stuff.”
She points a finger in my face. “I will not be blowing you. Just… FYI.”
I cannot hide my laugh. “Good to know. And for the record, Pie, you’re not my type.”
She lifts her chin up in indignation like I just insulted her. “I’m not your type?”
“Nope.”
“What kind of type do you like? Bull girls?”
“I’m not a bull.”
“A satyr chimera girl?”
“There are no female satyr chimeras. We’re all men.”
“Then what is your type?” And now she’s annoyed.
I shrug. “I’ve always been partial to the nymphs.”
“Nymphs.” She crinkles her nose like the thought of nymphs is distasteful. “Water fairies?”
“Not fairies. Nymphs. You know. Willowy girls with evil intentions lurking in the forest.”
JA Huss is a New York Times Bestselling author and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings. Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world. Her book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively. Her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017. Her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018. Her book, Total Exposure, was nominated for a RITA Award in 2019.
Meet the Order of the Black Oak: a powerful order of modern-day warriors fighting evil to protect the ones they love.
Son of an ancient vampire and a legendary French witch, Mont-Royal Immortal Magnovald St-Amand has lived for so long that nothing matters except his ruling over the Montreal’s sultry nightlife. But when he chooses to help an ambitious real estate tycoon rescue her kid sister from a pack of daemons, he finds deep yearnings in his soul that he thought were buried forever.
If you love loyal tough guys with hearts, satisfying slow-burn paranormal romance and safe Happily Ever Afters, the Black Oak World is for you.
***** Fantastic series of action, magic and awesome romance. You will fall in love with the characters and feel you are right with them.
“So you never drink from humans, like sucking the blood directly.” Cat wouldn’t let it go.
“Well… I have.” He winced, his hands again dug into his pockets. “I do.”
Nyssa tightened her grip on her sister and slightly turned sideways. “Mag, this is way too weird for us.”
Her mind full on denial, she had retreated behind her aloof persona. It didn’t matter what he was. Or that he was still hot as hell. She had to cut ties with him this very second.
“Look, I never drink from innocent people.” He folded into himself further, his usual pale features—the shade no doubt due to his condition—slightly flushed. “I don’t kill people. It’s just… fun.”
“Fun?” Her brows shot up in astonishment. How on earth can any of this be anything like fun? Her resentment mounted again, her heart pumped heavily at the center of her chest.
“Yes.” He was defiant again, his firm chin thrust sharply at her as he pinned her under his solid gaze.
“Fun?” she repeated. Her anger grew fully, her vision tunneling and seeing only him, the brazen leather-clad rebel who had brought this upon them. “There was nothing fun about tonight. Three monsters claiming to come from some prince of hell that you somehow insulted.”
“Nyssa, calm down. He saved us.” Cat interjected with a measured tone, swiveling away from her embrace. “No, Cat. I will not calm down,” Nyssa shrieked. Her hands flailed in front of her, her body boiling with rage as her fear, astonishment, and exhaustion took over any reasonable thoughts. “I got you from the grips of a sexual predator and now this. A fuckin’ vampire!”
Marie-Claude Bourque is a Montreal-born Seattle-based author of gothic paranormal romance and the winner of the American Title V award with her first novel ANCIENT WHISPERS.
Her writing features modern-day fantasy skillfully weaved into infinitely romantic supernatural stories between smart strong women and complex passionate heroes.
Rafe is a volunteer fireman who is sworn to protect his ranch and town. Gail has just lost everything to the devastating fire that destroyed her home. Will these two be able to heal their scars and find new love and happiness?
After the trauma of war, rancher Rafe comes home to help his community as a volunteer fireman while trying to find balance in civilian life. He must carry the mantle of his family, who have been Guardians of Coyote Valley for generations. Now its up to Gabe to protect the town from the fires that ravage the national forests around Coyote Valley. But as he gives his all to the community, he often forgets to take care of his own heart.
Loner Gail has just lost everything to the devastating fire that destroyed her home. When the handsome rancher who saved her offers to let her stay at his place, it seems like the perfect solution. Until she remembers she doesn’t really like living with people. It’s why she was living up on top of the mountain in the first place.
Rafe and Gail arrived at Rafe’s house exhausted. You wouldn’t think it would take that much out of you just meeting with a few contractors, but having to go over the numbers, the data, the timelines, and the creative decisions around the roof all in the heat of a 104° day had been a little bit much. Rafe took one glance at Gail and felt bad for her. Not only had she been moved out of her house but now she had to work so hard just to get back into it. She needed a break.
“Why don’t you go and take a shower,” he said with a smile. “I’ll get dinner started.”
“Why are you always making me dinner?” Gail frowned as if he’d asked her to make dinner.
Fortunately, Rafe got it. She was tired. No need for him to take it personal. He gave her a sideways grin. “Don’t you like the way I cook?”
“You are by far one of the finest chefs I’ve ever had the great pleasure of consuming food from,” Gail said with a smile.
“Well, I think that’s probably laying it on just a little thick.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “A simple ‘thank you for the very lovely meals,’ will suffice.”
“Well thank you for the most loveliest meals.” Gail took a deep breath and moving towards the counter. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Nope, I’ve got it all buckled down here. Green beans and salad from the garden, southern fried steak from the Foster’s Ranch. Sound good?” He waited for her response with the uneasy feeling that he’d be severely disappointed if she didn’t like what he’d planned for dinner.
“You realize I’ve never cooked you a meal?” Gail said
“There’s plenty of time for that. Once you get up to Buttercup Ridge or even back in your home, you can invite me up for dinner.” Rafe smiled.
Gail’s eyes widened. “Did you just ask me to invite you on a date to my house so I can cook you dinner?”
Rafe laughed. “Yeah, I could see how it could’ve been construed like that. But you have to remember I’m awkward and I like to draw attention to my awkwardness to try and give it some semblance of humor rather than just being straight awkward. But mostly what I’m saying is the cottage is done. I got the call and you can move out.”
“Oh.” Gail’s face fell.
“That is what you wanted, right?” Rafe asked. “Your own place.”
“Yes, yeah, of course,” Gail stammered turning towards the hallway. “It’s wonderful news.”
“Thought you’d like that. I got the call just a little bit ago.” Rafe smiled even though he didn’t feel like it. In the short time she’d been in his home, Gail had grown on him. Suddenly, as she turned and walked down the hall, Rafe realized how much he was going to miss having her around. Every muscle in his body seized up. He wanted to chase her down the hall of his own house.
But she wasn’t looking for a relationship. And, if she was, she probably wouldn’t pick a traumatized orphaned vet. Rafe turned slowly back to the green beans. He needed to just focus on making her dinner and let go of any other thoughts he was having. He closed his eyes in prayer for a moment asking God to still his heart and guide him.
Kadi James was raised on a ranch in Northern California riding horses, writing stories, and waiting for true love to happen. Her passion for storytelling took her around the world to experience global cultures, history, and mythology, always looking for the similarities rather than the differences. After years overseas, country roads brought her back home again and she returned to California, her family, and the ranch where she grew up. Today she writes Sweet Ranch Romance that touches reader’s hearts by reminding them of the simple things that really matter in life; family, kindness, and always…love.
Amanda Smith is sick of getting chased from town-to-town. So when she lands in tiny Trifle, Arizona, she hopes it’s her last move for a long time. Despite hating the smallness of the town, she settles in and finds a best friend, and even a boyfriend. Normality at its finest.
But for a girl who can shoot snow from her hands and lift a two-ton truck over her head like a bag of feathers—normal is not an option.
The scientists who murdered her mother come barreling into Amanda’s quiet life. She must decide if she’ll run again or stay and fight. The price of either choice might be her life or the lives of those she’s come to love…
“You barely know me, Zach.” And I was so the wrong girl. He just didn’t know it.
“I’m trying to get to know you. You won’t let me.” His dark eyebrow quirked up, and his dimple flared as he offered me his totally addicting half-smile.
He was right, though. So trained to stay protected I’ve pretty much forgotten how to…be. So controlled. So…
I inched closer, which probably looked ridiculous as I scooted across the sand, but if I was going to take a chance, Zach was going to be that chance.
His eyes widened, and he leaned forward as his grip on my hand tightened. Despite the sand mixed in with our hands, his warmth still crept up my arm. But it also left a trail of goosebumps.
Do. Not. Freeze. Him.
I drew in a breath, then pushed that last inch separating us. My reward was the softest pair of lips. The contact, as light as it was, sent a shockwave through my chest, rattling down my spine. The warmth of the sun toasting us, and his now familiar scent, swarmed around my body, filling me with him.
All Zach.
I turned my head a fraction and that angle offered me even more of him. That pouty bottom lip I’d been eyeing since I’d first seen him was all mine to taste. To nibble. And I took full advantage.
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author, Lynn Rush, is a full-time writer, wife, and trail runner living in the Sonoran Desert, despite her fear of rattlesnakes. Known as #TheRunningWriter, Lynn can’t resist posting epic sunrise pictures while running in the desert with her trail sisters, even if she has to occasionally hop a scorpion.
When she’s not running or writing, she’s watching movies that fuel her everlasting love of superheroes, vampires, and all things Supernatural. The books she reads usually carry the same theme, but this former college athlete loves reading sweet sports romances as well.
She’s madly in love with her Ironman husband of 20+ years who is the inspiration for what true love is. You can find her on social media as @LynnRushWrites and her website is: www.lynnrush.com
She’s desperate to get her life straight. He’s struggling to stay true to his dreams. Together, can they whip up the recipe for happily ever after?
Harriet “Harry” Belmont feels like a total failure. Returning from San Francisco to England to care for her grandmother after being fired and discovering her boyfriend is married, she’s determined to turn a mess into something vaguely positive. But when her woeful cooking skills send her gran’s dinner up in smoke, the big-city refugee is stunned when the man who jumps to her rescue is a handsome old flame.
Jamie Forrest’s love of culinary creations has come back to bite him. Though the small-town chef loves the meal-kit business he built to help others, it’s become so successful he no longer has time to spend in the kitchen. But his stress multiplies exponentially when the woman he saves from a food-prep disaster turns out to be his gorgeous childhood sweetheart.
As Harry’s forgotten feelings resurface, she’s torn between helping him open his dream restaurant and fleeing back to the life she promised she’d never sacrifice for a man. And though Jamie realizes he never got over her, he’s terrified that if he lets her in, she’ll just break his heart again.
Can the reunited friends find a way to put love on the menu?
Harry glanced at Nicki, who raised her eyebrow. “I’d take him up on the offer if I were you. You might not get a second chance.” She winked at Harry, raised her empty champagne glass, and headed for the bar.
Harry took Jamie’s hand. Her fingers prickled when she touched his, clicking on a memory she’d long since stored away: his touch. The feeling of taking the hand of someone special.
“What was Nicki talking your ear off about?” Jamie asked as he led her to the floor.
Harry smiled to herself. “Just life,” she said, and started to dance.
The band played every song from Harry’s youth. She and Jamie danced and sang words she didn’t know she remembered. Harry pulled out dance moves she hadn’t used for decades, and Jamie mirrored her like they’d been dancing that way forever. By the time the band slowed things down, Harry’s feet were on fire and her dress stuck to the moisture in the middle of her back. Jamie’s hair stuck up in damp spikes. At some point, he’d undone another button on his shirt.
“To all the lovers out there,” the singer said, her voice breathy. “We’re available for weddings.”
The crowd laughed and as the band played the opening notes of a familiar ballad, couples paired up, others left the floor, and people who’d been sitting on the sidelines suddenly found themselves pulled to their feet and led onto the dance floor. Harry made a show of looking tired. She ought to sit this one out. It was one thing to boogie the night away with Jamie, to laugh at one another’s moves, to have fun. But slow dances always meant something, and Harry didn’t want to send the wrong message. “Drink?” she asked.
Jamie took her hand and Harry was relieved he felt the same way and was leading her from the floor. But he didn’t. He held out his hands and took Harry’s. He smiled. That smile. And when he invited Harry into his arms, she went.
Jamie’s hands wrapped around her waist, and Harry’s body moved in time with his, and when she rested her head on his shoulder, her senses relaxed with the familiar scent of somewhere she belonged.
Maggie Wild lives in California Wine Country with her own Mr. Right and a small collection of furry friends. A native of Yorkshire, England, she returns “home” every day through her fictional worlds. When not writing her fun, contemporary romance stories, she loves to watch the birds in her garden and hike through the local redwoods. Learn more at MaggieWild.com.
Title: Salt Kisses Series Author: Josie Demuth Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Starfish Island, a place where the human world and the magic world collide…
Seventeen-year-old Crystal White is the new girl on Starfish Island. Dragged to the remote community by her environmental activist father, she is eager to find fun that doesn’t involve touching fish guts or listening to local folklore.
During a midnight swim with some new friends, Crystal is pulled out to sea by the waves. Convinced she’s going to drown, Crystal is rescued by Llyr, a handsome stranger. As she searches for him in the following weeks, she finds there may be more truth to the Starfish legends than she thought.
Over a sizzling roller-coaster summer, Llyr introduces Crystal to magic she’d only ever dreamed of. But as Crystal comes to love Starfish Island, it begins to drive her family apart. A nearby power plant is devastating local marine life, and her parents are stuck in the middle. As the magic and mundane parts of Crystal’s life converge, she finds herself risking everything to save Llyr, her family, and herself.
Mine @2 I double-checked the message again. I was restless, I wanted to see Rosie now. What is this big secret? What does it have to do with Llyr?
I would now have to wait until two o’clock to find out.
I have a vivid imagination and it was rattling around in my skull like a hurricane right now. Is Llyr some kind of criminal on the run? Does he have to hide in the sea or something? Maybe he was a Starfish native and that was why only islanders knew of his hiding place… Where does he sleep?! He must get really cold out there all the time… Surely, he would drown at some point or catch pneumonia. What had he done anyway, and should I turn him in? Surely I couldn’t let my insane crush on him get in the way of justice.
I did a Google search on my phone, typing in ‘Most Wanted’ and ‘Coney Bay’.
A jokey news article came up about a kid who had released their goldfish into the sea and now wanted it back.
I screamed with frustration and threw my phone on the sofa, storming out into the back garden and down the ocean stairway.
It was a blazing hot June Sunday, but I didn’t care. I would search for answers. When I got to the jetty, I marched to the end of it, and I stood there gazing out to sea.
I must have looked a little strange to the neighbours standing so determined on the edge of the jetty, fists clenched at my sides, my hair yellow in the sun.
I was a woman on a mission, but with nowhere to mission to.
My eyes scanned the sea, begging for something, but asides from a fishing boat and a couple of gulls, the surface was barren.
“Darling!”
It was Mum. She was making her way down the stairs.
I sighed. “Hi Mum”
“Are you alright, standing around in the boiling heat like this?” she shouted.
“Yeah, I’m fine Mum,” I said distractedly.
She made her way down the jetty. She wore a big floppy black sun hat and a black fitted strappy dress.
“Are you off to a funeral?” I joked as she neared. It was surely not normal to wear such dark colours in the summer.
“I suppose I’m mourning London, Crystal,” she said putting her arm around my shoulders.
God, she’s so melodramatic. She’s probably trying to give Dad a guilt trip.
“It’s nice here,” I said reassuringly, as we looked out to sea. “I missed London to start with, but I’ve not thought about it one bit in the past few weeks.”
I was still scouring the waters.
“That’s great,” she said watching my face carefully. “But you don’t really seem yourself.”
“Oh… well, I’m fine,” I pretended.
My mum was silent, and I knew she was waiting for me to explain myself.
“Oh, it’s just this guy.”
“Oh, well, say no more,” she said, looking relieved. “Now, my motherly advice is keep cool, kid.”
I laughed, “Okay Mum.”
“Let them do the chasing.”
No danger of me chasing Llyr, I thought. I wasn’t even totally sure if he existed.
Josie is an author who writes the occasional article. She loves all things gothic and magical, but particularly a story which is fun, intriguing and says a little something about the world. She loves to write about weird and wonderful happenings in her hometown, London but also sets her tales in the mystical lands of the Westcountry, England and more recently, Iceland.
Josie’s novella Liggers and Dreamers was published by Thin Man Press in 2015 and was described as ‘beautifully written’ in a critique by bestselling author and radical poet Heathcote Williams. Meanwhile her YA Salt Kisses series – a new-age eco ‘mermance’ – has garnered nearly four million reads on story-telling site, Wattpad and tens of thousands on Radish Fiction app. The first three books are now published and can be purchased through Amazon.
Josie has appeared on the ‘Wattpad’s most successful authors tell you how to do it’ panel at WattCon, Foyles, SoHo. Her former zine, La Bouche, has also featured on the BBC Today Program on a feature about literary sub-culture; in LOVE Magazine’s TOP TEN ZINES, and in Thames and Hudson’s FANZINES. In 2009, it was selected as the ICA bookshop’s first ever ‘Zine of the month’.
Josie also writes short stories and articles. She hosts fantasy writing competition ‘Under The Sea’, which last featured NY-Times bestselling YA author Danielle Paige as the celebrity judge.
