…risk it all? Midwife Quinn Davis and Dr. Milo Russell have been friends forever. So why is it now that they’re working together things have become…awkward? Quinn can’t get Milo out of her mind—and when they share an explosive kiss, she’s left questioning everything! Free-spirited Quinn never planned on settling down…and Milo has a life plan of his own. Are they ready to think about a new life—together?
From Harlequin Medical: Life and love in the world of modern medicine.
“IT’S A GOOD THING you kept your town house in Oceanside,” Quinn said, leaning against Milo’s shoulder as he put the key in the lock. They smelled of smoke, and it had taken them nearly twice as long as it should have to reach Oceanside. Then Milo had insisted that she let him check the cut on her forehead after they’d gotten Ainsley and her daughter checked into the Clinic and said a brief hello to Milo’s stepdad, Felix.
Now she had six stitches above her eye, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this exhausted. She’d been in tense situations multiple times during her career, though, so Quinn knew from experience that her brain was too wired to let her drift into oblivion.
Her stomach growled—another function the body forgot about during stress.
When had they last eaten?
“Tell me you have food in the fridge!”
“Nope.” Milo swung the door open. “It’s fully furnished, since I rent it out most weekends as a vacation spot. But the rent doesn’t include food. Luckily, it’s not due to be occupied for the rest of the month. Wildfire concern caused my last two renters to back out.”
Her stomach roiled with emptiness, but she ignored it. Focusing on her hunger wouldn’t make food magically appear. “At least I can get a hot shower,” Quinn sighed.
“And our Thai food should be here by the time you’re done. I ordered it while you were saying hi to Felix.”
“You are the best!” Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck without thinking. Today had been hell, even though it had ended well on all fronts. She didn’t care that they were both starving and in desperate need of showers. She just wanted to hold him, to remind herself that they were fine. Her body molded to his as Milo’s strong arms pulled her closer.
Her day’s fears melted as he held her. This was where she wanted to be so badly.Her fingers itched to run through his short hair. To trace her lips along the edge of his jaw and see what happened. Sparks flew across her back as his fingers tightened on her waist.
If she held him any longer… Quinn swallowed. This embrace had already gone on for too long. She needed to stop this before Milo started to think she was crazy.
Her cheeks were warm as she pulled away. “I promise not to steal all the hot water.”
“Wait.” Milo grabbed her hand.
Her body vibrated with need as Milo ran his fingers along the bandage on her forehead. His touch burned as she stared at his lips.
So close,and yet so far away.
“The bandage I put on seems watertight.” Milo’s husky tone raced around her.
“Since you put it on less than an hour ago, I would hope so.”
Was he looking for reasons to touch her?
“Yes, but it’s important the wound doesn’t get wet.” His words were so matter-of-fact.
Of course they were.
He was a good physician and her oldest friend.
But just for a moment, she’d thought he might need to touch her, need to be near her, to hold her, too.
“I should clean up.” Her throat was dry as she pulled away, but Milo didn’t stop her again.
When humans were stressed or escaped catastrophe, they often sought comfort in the arms of another. A reminder that they’d lived to fight another day. She’d seen it happen when she was serving in areas that had been hit by earthquakes and floods. It was standard. But Quinn had never felt the urge to seek out that comfort—until tonight.
Juliette Hyland believes in caffeine, hot drinks and happily ever afters! She lives in Ohio, USA, with her prince charming, who has patiently listened to many rants regarding characters failing to follow the outline. When not working on fun and flirty happily ever afters, Juliette can be found spending time with her beautiful daughters, giant dogs or sewing uneven stitches with her sewing machine.
Blair Graves’ father went missing seven years ago.
The legal death of her paranormal radio host father tilts her world sideways on its axis. When no will can be found, Blair is forced to adapt to a quickly shifting reality. One in which she’s forced to sell her family home.
When a historical fixer-upper catches her eye, she goes all in, hoping to escape her father’s legacy and the long shadow cast by his very public disappearance.
But when the house starts presenting more problems than just the creaks and groans associated with old age, Blair starts questioning what she knows about life, death, and what comes after.
When the very arrogant and handsome Cash Kelly–a ghost-hunting expert–offers his help, Blair is sure he’s the same kind of attention-seeking, conspiracy-promoting, dollar-chasing content creator hack as her father.
As she begins to question his motivations for helping her, the haunting escalates to a dangerous point, forcing Blair to confront the reality of the world her father believed in.
And what it means to be his daughter.
The X-Files meets Supernatural in this urban fantasy series about the strength of a father-daughter bond and how, sometimes, truth really is stranger than fiction.
I lean my back against the door and listen to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace. I’m not quite ready to put it out yet. I look around, wondering how to fill another hour before bed and my eyes land on the door that leads to the backyard.
My little furry friend.
I grab a coat, scarf, and some mittens and decide I’m going to spend a little time outside and see if I can spot the raccoon. Out back, I walk to the edge of the empty art deco pool. I glance to the bottom, now clean and free of the animal remains it once held. My eyes travel upwards to the tree line at the back of the property. I narrow them to slits, trying to make out any shape in the darkness.
And that’s when I hear it.
Chuff. Chuff.
Almost a snort. A huge exhalation through a snout. An animal. An animal much larger than a raccoon.
And the same sound that woke me in the middle of the night.
A chill descends on me.
My heart begins to race. An instinctive part of my brain suddenly shifts into prey mode. That’s what I am. Prey. Meat. Sustenance for whatever is making that sound.
A bear? A mountain lion?
Why would I have heard it in the house? In my bedroom? So close to my ear that I could practically feel the hot air being forced from its lungs.
I stand, frozen on the spot, my eyes still trying to make out shapes in the darkness. But now, through a lens of fear, I feel like I see them everywhere. A shadow here, one over there. My eyes dart around, trying to follow whatever it is that I’m seeing—or that I think I’m seeing.
Fuck. I feel crazy.
Suddenly, I’m wishing Noelle and Hooper were still here.
That anyone was here.
That I wasn’t surrounded by empty fields for miles.
I’m sure of one thing, though, as I creep back to the house.
Marnie Vinge is a novelist and storyteller as well as the creator of the podcast, Eerie Okie.
She first started writing at the ripe age of 7, creating a science fiction horror story about a monster that lived in seaweed off the coast of Corpus Christi. Since then, she’s stretched her wings by writing urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and horror.
To check out Eerie Okie, search your favorite podcast platform. If you’re an Oklahoma ghoul who loves the morbid and macabre, it’s the podcast for you.
Title: Stop Me Author: Michelle Jester Series: RUE the DAY #3 Genre: Contemporary Romance
After moving to a new city with her parents, Jeselle Parsons quickly found friends and a life full of money, power, and privilege. Even though her parents weren’t wealthy like the other kids’ parents, Jeselle felt lucky to be welcomed into the circle of friends, until she learned how costly that type of life could be. A life that would cost her everything.
For fifteen years, Jeselle, with the help of her friend Dennis, worked to ensure nothing would stand in the way of her revenge on the people who played a part in ruining her life.
All the years of planning, all the years of working, have all come down to this.
Her enemies will learn that revenge has never been so cold.
Rose entered with confidence. That was always the transition Jeselle loved to see. They start off scared, unsure. However, as they learned and worked, they became more and more assured in themselves. Poised, even.
As Rose walked toward her desk, Jeselle thought of the many girls that she’d helped through the years. Today, she was about to bestow her crowning gift to Rose. Exactly like the others, she was offering something that only Jeselle could offer.
“Good morning,” Rose said as she sat.
Jeselle slid the folder across the desk to Rose. She watched with pure satisfaction as Rose opened the folder. A confused look washed over Rose’s features.
“What, what is this?”
“She has a nice house on the south side of town, participates in all of her children’s school activities, and has been married for a little over two years. However, it’s rumored that her marriage is on very shaky ground, because she has a huge gambling problem.”
“Why…Ms. Parsons, I’m confused. Why do you have this file on Trisha?”
Jeselle stood, “Why else? She’s your frenemy. And any frenemy of yours is a frenemy of mine,” Jeselle waited to watch the moment Rose got it.
Rose stood, carrying the file with her, “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Jeselle gave up hope that it would finally click with Rose. “Revenge, Rose,” she leaned toward her, “For her misdeeds against you.” Jeselle hadn’t meant to sound so forceful.
Rose’s voice was barely over a whisper, “Why on Earth would I want revenge?”
Jeselle was rocked to her core, she swayed slightly. “Because she hurt you. Horribly.”
Rose’s eyebrows drew together. She walked around the desk to meet with Jeselle. “I think that your heart is in the right place, only…” Rose threw her arms around Jeselle and hugged her, “I don’t need revenge.”
Jeselle stiffened in the embrace.
“Mom always says,” Rose whispered in Jeselle’s ear, “the best revenge is in not needing any.” Rose stepped back and looked at Jeselle, “I am the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and that has nothing to do with Trisha.”
“Well, that’s good,” Jeselle brushed the front of her suit, sat behind her desk and made herself busy. “Lucky for you, you didn’t lose a parent to anyone.”
“True. But my parents were saved by someone. You.”
“Yes, okay,” Jeselle waved her hand to dismiss Rose.
“You save people, Jeselle. Lots of people. I think revenge is a waste.”
“Is it a waste, Rose, to have revenge because you are trying to save other people from horrible people, hmm? Answer me that.” she replied coldly,
“No. But Trisha isn’t that situation. In my opinion, saving her marriage or her family for her children by helping her get counseling for her gambling problem would save people.” Jeselle sighed deeply, “Go away, and let me go save the world then.”
Michelle Jester lives in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and retired Master Sergeant. Together they have a son and daughter. She is a hopeless romantic and has been writing poems and stories for as long as she can remember. One of her prize possessions is a bracelet with only a yellow, Rubber Duckie charm on it; which she wears every day to remind her to enjoy the fun and happy things of life!
Can love untangle a web of lies and expose the truth?
A loner with a mysterious childhood…
FBI agent Dolan Watts is no stranger to pain. From his childhood spent in foster care to his daily grind of hunting down hardened criminals, it’s been the one constant through the years. Pain carved out gut feelings he can trust and instincts able to solve cases in record time. Until now. Confronted by a malicious new enemy who revels in mind games, Dolan begins to doubt his own perceptions. Fearing he’s spiraling into insanity, he seeks help from the one woman who can shine light into the darkness consuming him.
A woman haunted by a secret…
Psychologist Daughter Dawson sabotaged her own safety the moment she accepted Dolan as a client. Still, she felt compelled to help him. Dolan’s past mirrored many of the questions about her own, making his torment achingly familiar. Despite their growing attraction, her career demands she keep an ethical distance. Yet when she makes the mistake of confiding in him, both their lives are thrust into unimaginable danger.
Nightmares come to life…
When gruesome tragedy uncovers a serial killer’s twisted agenda, Daughter and Dolan must cling to each other if they hope to survive. Can they stop the body count from rising? Or will they find their only purpose from the start was to be pawns in a reign of evil?
She wanted more. All of it. Hand-holding and kissing and long, lazy lovemaking. She opened her eyes and hoped he could read her feelings in them. The next two years were going to be torture, and it was all her fault.
His face was naked with longing, desire, deep affection. It was beautiful to see this powerful man baring his emotions to her. Emotions that had everything to do with her, with wanting her. It was a heady drug, one she wanted to overdose on. If she never saw him after today, she’d forever remember the way he looked at her right now, like she was his entire universe.
He slid his hand into her hair, the movement causing a rash of goose bumps to break out all over her body. “I’m sorry for breaking the rules. I take all the blame.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what rule he’d broken, just as his lips landed on hers. The world fell out from under her. She grabbed on to him to keep from falling, latching onto his shirt and yanking him closer. His arms clamped around her, holding her even tighter to him, and the raw male strength of his body against hers was a revelation. Heat radiated off him like he was her own personal sun.
And then his tongue was in her mouth—warm and tasting like a wish. The salt of her tears mingled to make this kiss the one that all other kisses would be measured by.
And then it was over and he was pulling away. She wanted to beg him to keep kissing her, and maybe the world and the two years separating them would disappear.
He looked down at her, his face ravaged by the war raging inside him, the same one inside her—the nearly overwhelming need to be together, the rules be damned.
He stared at her for an endless moment, a muscle in his jaw ticking, then turned and walked to his car.
Tears flowed as she watched him drive away. At the end of the parking lot, he stopped before pulling out onto the road. She couldn’t see inside the car, but knew he was watching her in the rearview mirror. A sob choked in her throat. If she cried any harder, he’d turn around and come back for her, but she couldn’t let him.
He drove out of the parking lot and out of her life. She turned to her car and saw the bouquet he’d given her sitting on the roof.
She mashed her face in the pretty flowers and watered them with her tears.
Seven Things about Abbie Roads: 1. She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what’s most important, right? 2. She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages. 3. By day she’s a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well… Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does–the keyboard might get a little warm. 4. She can’t stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That’s major annoying. Right? 5. She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty. 6. She lives in Marion, Ohio with her favorite fellow and two fur babies. 7. Being a published author is a dream come true for her.
Gracen Lowe has a new life theory: What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
Which is exactly why he decides not to tell his twin sister, Bella, that he’s accidentally falling for the woman she hates most, the very woman who allegedly cheated with Bella’s last boyfriend and broke them apart.
Bella might be his best friend and ultimate confidante, but she’d legit cut off his favorite body part if she knew which woman he’d been craving. So even if his theory’s totally whack, staying quiet will definitely keep him safer.
Except he feels so guilty about it all.
Meanwhile, Bella’s heating up the sheets with one of Gracen’s best friends, and she can’t seem to reveal that little detail to her brother either, due to—you know—reasons.
When the truth is exposed, all bets are off. Shattered secrets will either set everyone free or wreck their relationships forever.
“He reminded me a lot of you, actually,” I decided suddenly.
“Me?” That perked my life coach to immediate attention. With a lift of his brows, he said, “Oh, so you’re saying he was incredibly handsome, huh?”
I laughed and shook my head. “You just had to go there, didn’t you?”
“Wait, wait.” Squinting at me and trying to read my thoughts, his mouth fell open with a horrified gasp. “Holy shit. You think he’s better looking than I am? EL! What the hell?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s—oh my God. You’re ridiculous. Comparing the two of you would be like comparing apples and oranges. Because you’re all raw and rough and masculine, while he’s—”
“Feminine?” he guessed dryly.
“No. He’s like—I don’t know—cultured. And smooth.”
Gracen was like pure art.
“Ah…” My life coach drew out slowly. “You mean, he’s a pretty boy.”
I sighed in defeat over the entire conversation and just gave up by answering, “Yeah. Sure. He’s a pretty boy.”
“Well…” He lifted his hands as if there was no hope for me. “I guess, if you’re into that type, that’s fine.” Then he lifted an eyebrow. “But, seriously, on a scale of one to ten—”
“He’s a twelve,” I blurted in a rush. “Definitely a twelve.”
Eyebrows arched as if impressed, he nodded. “Okay, then. Pretty boy’s a twelve. And a gentleman hero, too. How the hell does that remind you of ME?”
Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children’s literature from The Institute of Children’s Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University. Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant. Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor…or Hulk (can’t decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny. Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.
High school sweethearts Mia and Luke get a second chance at love in this brand-new contemporary romance from award-winning author Garrett Leigh.
When Mia Amour returns to England to open a florist shop, all she wants to do is put her lousy ex behind her and never look back. But getting a fresh start is easier said than done when her first love, the boy who once broke her teenage heart, strolls back into her life. He’s every bit as sexy as she remembers, and the urge to melt back into his arms almost makes her forget how devastated she was when he took off without a word. Almost.
Left with no choice, Luke Daley did what he had to do, leaving town to earn enough money to save his broken family, though it just about broke him, too. But now he’s back, running his uncle’s business and trying desperately to forget about Mia, the girl he left behind all those years ago. When he runs into her in town, the shock of seeing her again brings an intense rush of emotions: love, guilt…and an overwhelming urge to find out if it’s still as amazing between them as it used to be.
It doesn’t take either of them long to give in to desire and discover the fiery passion they once shared burns hotter than ever. With each new touch, each moment of forgiveness, old hurts heal and the future they’d hoped for ten years ago becomes possible again. But their fragile connection is tested by a threat neither of them saw coming—a threat that could end their second chance before it even gets started.
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.
I was playing darts with some dude-bro of my dad’s when Gus walked in. An automatic grin spread across my face, but he wasn’t alone. Mia flitted in behind him and went straight to the bar without looking my way.
Gus shrugged and followed her.
It stung. I had plenty of old schoolmates knocking around Rushmere, but Gus got me. His easy company had made the transition to civilian life seem almost normal. Perhaps I’d become too reliant on him. Too demanding, and Mia was right. He was her brother, not mine.
I turned my back on them and focussed on flinging darts at the board. My aim had always been good, and I won several times over, but still the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and no matter how much I drank, my skin tingled with her imagined gaze all over me—imagined, because I reckoned I still knew her well enough to be certain she was stubbornly refusing to face me.
Calling time on my darts marathon, I drained my drink, bid my opponents goodbye, and left the pub without glancing in the direction I’d last seen Gus and Mia. It was a mile walk back to my house, but I was glad of it; at least I would be come the morning.
I fished my phone from my pocket and checked that my alarm was set, even though military life had left me incapable of sleeping more than four hours at a time. An Instagram notification from my brother caught my attention. I swiped it and immediately wished I hadn’t. Wasted and trashing whatever shithole town he lived in now, treating them to the same havoc he’d wrecked my mum’s life with after our dad died. Not that I could judge him right now for being wasted, but I’d go home, fall asleep in my own bed, and wake up in time to keep my life moving forward, even if I had no idea where I wanted it to go. Billy was destructive to himself and everyone around him. I loved him, but sometimes I just couldn’t fucking look at him.
A muttered curse behind me spun me around.
Mia glared at me. “For God’s sake. Is there nowhere in this town I can go without you loitering around the corner?”
The absurdity of it was so unfair I just stared.
She stepped closer, her face pretty much twisted in the kind of half snarl that had made me so fucking hard in the past.
Would make me hard now if I let it.
If I let her.
I swallowed thickly. We’d been in the same room all night, and yet somehow the sight of her in front of me seemed brand new. “I’m going home.”
“Yeah. I figured that when you left the pub ten minutes ago.”
She didn’t move. Neither did I, and I cursed myself for not going straight home. The rare glimpses of her were bad enough, but these face-to-face staredowns clawed at my insides. I had stubborn feet, a steady gaze, and hands that never faltered, but with Mia so close a gust of wind would blow her hair into my face, everything trembled.
I inhaled fresh air, hoping it would clear my mind. It didn’t. “Whatever. I’m going home now.”
“Uh-huh.”
Still I didn’t move. I glanced over Mia’s shoulder at the pub. “Where’s Gus?”
“Talking to some bloke from Grindr, I’d imagine. He left with a spring in his step.”
“He left you there by yourself?”
“No, he just left like an adult, because I’m old enough to make the three-hundred-metre walk on my own.”
Mia started to step around me. In a fit of nonsensical recklessness, I grabbed her arm, then braced myself for the inevitable answering shove.
But she didn’t shove me. She stared, apparently transfixed by my fingers circling her slim wrist, and did nothing at all.
Reeling, I let her go. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why are you sorry?”
Perhaps she was drunk too, and heat swam in my veins. Getting lit with Mia had always been awesome. Back in the day, I’d lie back and let her take whatever she wanted from me, but that wasn’t the picture dancing through my beer-addled brain right now. I wanted to grip her again, spin her around, and pin her against the wall. She’d never let me dominate her—I’d never wanted to—but fuck if it wasn’t an image I couldn’t shake.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
It was my turn to move past her, and her turn to stop me in my tracks with a strong grip. “Luke.”
“What?” I spun around to face her again, my shout ringing out in the quiet pub car park, the vehemence in it surprising me as much as Mia. “What?” I tried again, softer this time, but no less desperate. “You don’t want to talk to me, I get it, okay? So leave me the fuck alone, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“I never asked you to leave me alone.”
Our eyes met and held on for the first time since our chip shop reunion two weeks ago. I fell down the rabbit hole of those fucking stormy blues, and as the seconds ticked by, so did my resolve to walk away.
Bonus Material available for all books on Garrett’s Patreon account. Includes short stories from Misfits, Slide, Strays, What Remains, Dream, and much more. Sign up here: https://www.patreon.com/garrettleigh
Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer, cover artist, and book designer. Her debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards, and was again a finalist in 2017 with Rented Heart.
In 2017, she won the EPIC award in contemporary romance with her military novel, Between Ghosts, and the contemporary romance category in the Bisexual Book Awards with her novel What Remains.
When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.
Garrett is also an award-winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at blackjazzdesign.com, and co-owns the specialist stock site moonstockphotography.com with photographer Dan Burgess.
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.
I answer with a kiss. A kiss I initiate. My glasses lift up as our faces meet and I reach up to pull them off, holding the stems in my hand as it lingers at his neck.
If a kiss can be perfect, this one is, crossing time and space to pull emotional tendrils together. I’m kissing him for seventeen years of confusion and craziness, for seventeen years of rejecting a piece of me that was just fine to begin with, for seventeen years of being defined by a fellow tween’s impulsive move.
He’s kissing me back for his own reasons, and whatever they are, they’re mighty fine, as his mouth takes mine and tells it stories that make my heart smile. Hands around my waist, he pulls me close, belly to belly, my coat still on but unzipped, the press of his flat torso and muscled terrain achingly tactile. My hands go up behind his neck, fingers brushing the ends of his short hair as his tongue uses a kind of energy I have never encountered before.
Breathless, we break apart, then come together again, the world spinning slowly without us, our bodies here but the rest of us, on every plane, lost in each other.
The cool air against my lips is the first sign that he’s pulled back. I open my eyes to find him so close, staring deeply, chest rising and falling as the scent of him mingles with the frankincense and rose oil I put on earlier today.
“So?” he asks.
“So… what?”
“Is that a yes?”
“You think that was a no?” One arm still around him, unable to let go, I cover my mouth with my hand, laughing.
“I think I need a clear yes, Fiona.”
On tiptoes, I kiss him lightly, then drop back, body pulsing.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
Lucifer is up to his old tricks, causing problems for the Forgotten Brotherhood. This time, he’s had a woman removed from the Norse afterlife and placed her right in the path of Bjorn Knutson. After the slaughter of his wife and family centuries ago, tortured and broken, Bjorn was cursed as the first Norse werewolf. Now he’s been tasked by Odin himself with killing the woman who escaped. Failure is not an option.
Before he can track her, he stumbles across a woman being accosted by three men in the middle of the night. Even though she’s human, he intervenes and is shocked to recognize the face of the one woman he could never kill — his wife Anja.
She’s also the one he’s hunting…and if he doesn’t kill her then both their lives are at stake.
He spun around and raced toward her with the other wolves hot on his heels.
Like some avenging Valkyrie, she stood with blood dripping from her fisted hand. A werewolf crouched on the sidewalk, blood pouring from one of his eyes and pure hatred radiating from the other.
“I’ll kill you, bitch,” the wounded male vowed.
Animal instinct took over. The threat to his mate must be eliminated. Bjorn ran straight at the wolf rising to his feet.
Before he could get there, Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere, clamped his hands on the man’s shoulder, and shoved down. The werewolf might be bigger and broader, but he was no match for the powerful vampire. His knees slammed onto the pavement.
“What are you doing here?” Bjorn demanded. The man on the ground was his. His wolf howled inside him, furious at being denied his prey. Bloodlust ruled. His vision narrowed, becoming keener. Claws unleashed, fangs flashed.
“Thought you might need some help, and I was right. Aren’t you lucky I’m such a giver?” He inclined his head toward Bjorn’s claws. “You might want to put those things away before you hurt yourself.” When Bjorn didn’t comply, Asher sighed and lowered his voice. “Anja is watching.”
Nothing could have pulled him back from the brink of disaster faster. She stood by the open door of the truck, a knife clenched tight between her fingers. He recognized it as one he kept in the glove box. She found it and was prepared to stand and fight.
Her face was as pale as the first snow of winter. Her lips were pressed into a firm line of determination. She was breathing much too fast. Blood stained her hand, a reminder she’d protected herself from an attack.
Once again, he hadn’t been there, had let her down. Her hand trembled and the stench of fear permeating the air around her. Was she afraid of him now that she knew what he truly was?
“Bjorn?” Her voice quavered. Her uncertainty was apparent, but likely only to him.
It was more effective than a fist to the jaw to snap him back to reality. He willed his wolf into submission. With his hands on his hips, he sucked air into his lungs, driving back the fury that threatened to erupt.
But seeing blood on her, knowing she’d had to defend herself, had brought out the killer inside.
And now she knew.
He was no longer the man she’d married. He was a monster. One he’d created with his own arrogance. He was no different than the men hunting her. Actually, he was worse because he was the cause of it all.
If he was a better man, he’d leave her with Asher for protection while he figured out a way to deal with the threat facing them. His wolf growled, enraged that he’d even consider such a thing. Both man and beast were in agreement. For better or worse, she belonged with him. No one would do more to keep her safe.
The others hunting them approached with caution, their primal instinct finally kicking in, alerting them that there was more to Bjorn and the situation than they understood.
As much as he longed to tear them all limb from limb, fighting wasn’t the best or safest option. He’d have to try to reason with them. Yeah, that was likely to work. They were as stubborn as he was.
Once upon a time N.J. had the idea that she would like to quit her job at the bookstore, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown, and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the bookstore and her hometown and settled in for another seven years.
One day she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first romance novel and life would never be the same.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks–all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
Tatum Everley is a freshman at Western Michigan University. Due to an emotionally and psychologically abusive past relationship, Tate struggles from Complex-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She has been working on controlling her symptoms and flashbacks, but when she meets Axel Burne at a fraternity party, who is notorious for sleeping around and getting into fights, she tries her best to dodge the bullet. Axel starts to become intrigued by Tate, but she’s better off choosing Lucas— the sweet guy who has been trying to take her out since orientation. But even though Lucas is the better option, Axel keeps reappearing. Tate continues to try to stay away from him, but it starts becoming harder to, and as she gets closer to him, things start to get way out of hand. If Tate wants her happy ending and her sanity intact, then she has to push through the hardships and maintain control over her disorder.
I kept messing with my hair, moving it from one side to the other. I contemplated throwing it up into a messy bun or ponytail, but I was too indecisive to choose. I was tired and hungover, and by the look of my face and messy hair, it showed.
Axe studied me, lifting an eyebrow. “Stop it. You look fine.”
“Yeah, if you think circus clowns look fine.”
“Maybe I like circus clowns.”
“Says the one afraid of turtles.”
“Only the ones that bite you,” he smirked as he handed me a dixie cup filled with coins. “I’ll play you in skee-ball,” he said.
“You’re on.”
We treaded past a small group of kids, making me feel slightly out of place as we made our way over to skee-ball. I placed my cup of coins on the ledge, my eyes trailing up to meet Axe’s, which were already looking at me. He raised a brow, waiting for me to speak first.
“You first, princess,” I said, motioning to the machine.
He rubbed his chin as he chuckled, picking up a token and sliding it in to the coin slot.
I took a step back so that he had room to play, furrowing my brows as he missed his target, time and time again.
“You suck,” I said with my arms crossed.
He threw his last ball, before turning his curly-haired head to me. “Think you could do better?”
“Yes. One-hundred percent.”
“Alright, Miss. Know-It-All. Prove it then.”
“Step aside,” I said as I placed my small hand on his bicep and playfully pushed him out of the way, pretending that the bulge of his muscle didn’t faze me.
I rolled each ball carefully, trying my best to make it into the holes with the higher points, considering how shitty my aim was. But even with my bad aim, I still managed to beat Axe’s score.
I happily raised a brow at him, delighted by my own performance.
“Whatever. I let you win,” he said.
“You let me?” I stifled a laugh. “Yeah, right.” Axe smirked, amused by my reaction. “You want a rematch?” I offered.
“I’m good.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I bent down to pick up my cup of tokens, my heart pausing as Axe began to speak again.
“There’s something about you that I like,” he said.
I paused for a quick second before reminding myself not to let him or anything he said faze me. “Thanks,” I responded, trying to avoid eye-contact with him.
He shook his head, a perfect smirk still resting upon his face. “So damn stubborn.”
“I prefer to be stubborn.”
“I can tell.”
I shrugged, trying to end the conversation there. I didn’t know what to make of his comment. Was it a compliment? I couldn’t even tell.
“You know you don’t have to pretend be a bitch around me, right?” he asked.
“Maybe I’m not pretending.”
Axe tilted his head, refusing to believe my words. “Oh, c’mon. I see right through it.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I just know,” he softly said.
“You don’t know anything,” I shook my head, unable to hide the tiny grin upon my lips.
Trinity Lemm is from a small town in Illinois. After graduating from high school in 2019, she began attending Western Michigan University to study both business and dance, with plans of maintaining a writing career on the side. When she is not writing, she enjoys dancing, spending time with friends and family, and watching scary movies.
“The path to peace is full of wars just as the path of love is full of pain.”
Fay Newman is about to start college, a new chapter of her life—a way to reinvent the nature lover and unsociable introvert she has always been.
However, when she saves her roommate’s life in a way that no human could, she finds more than she bargained for when she is thrown in the midst of kingdoms’ wars, blood feuds, forbidden love, and forgotten promises.
With the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, Fay tries to navigate her new reality, with friends and foes being closer than she realizes. When nothing is as it seems, she doesn’t know who or what to trust until taking up the weapon to fight is all that’s left.
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.
“Fay, stop it” He let out with a sigh of weariness, reaching for me from across the table but I was out of reach. He rested his slander, delicate hand on the table. His fingers were long and his skin paled, unmarred by any blemish. It was hard to imagine these hands in the heat of passion fucking a woman as powerfully as he said.
I looked up and met his hypnotic eyes, looking at me with such wonder and a hint of something I couldn’t really decipher.
“I have time for you, always” He added with a small smile.
“Why?
“Because it’s you.” He replied so softly that it thawed a little of my irritation.
“You have to stop being mean.” I chided. “This is not okay,”
“But she was -”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter, she wanted to try her luck so what? It may not have been the most appropriate place but she didn’t do anything wrong and it didn’t warrant your reaction.”
“If you dislike me so much, why are you even bothering with me?” he asked coldly and even if his face looked hard, I didn’t miss the glass of hurt in his eyes.
“I don’t…dislike you.” I replied tentatively. It was true though, I didn’t. I let out a startled laugh. “God help me. I think I even like you.”
He arched his eyebrows, and I saw his tensed shoulder relax under his dressed shirt.
“I liked the caring, nice Gareth I see when you’re with me. But, I have a hard time with this version of Gareth – the dismissive, mean Gareth.” I cocked my head to the side. “I don’t like him very much and I have a hard time reconciling both sides of you.” I admitted truthfully.
He took a deep breath. “That’s fair. Please, stay.” And I could see yet again he was not the kind of man to ask for anything. He was demanding and this simple request mollified me a little more.
R.G Angel is a trained lawyer, world traveler, coffee addict, cheese aficionado, avid book reviewer and blogger.
She considers herself as an ‘Eclectic romantic’ and wants to write romance in sub-genre she can think of.
When she is not busy doing all her lawyerly mayhem, and because she is living in rainy Britain, she mostly enjoys indoor activities such as reading, watching TV, playing with her crazy puppy and writing stories she hopes will make you dream.
If you want to know when R.G.’s next book will come out, or what signing she will be attending please follow her Facebook page.
