New Adult Novels

Braxton Merriweather always gets what he wants. Now, he wants her--Julia Thompson, the wife of one of his workers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew he had to possess her in every way. When Jeff Thompson takes him up on the bargain he proposes, Braxton is shocked. He's even more surprised when Mrs. Merriweather agrees. But now that he's had a taste of her, he wants more. How can he possess a woman who's already married to someone else? Julia feels trapped by her marriage to her high school sweetheart. In the two years since they've been married, he's changed, and not for the better. When billionaire Braxton Merriweather shows interest in her, she's flattered. And intrigued. Is it possible that one of the richest men in the world could really want her? And if so... what does she do about her husband? The Billionaire CEO's Bargain is a sexy story for mature readers. *************** The Billionaire CEO's Bargain Julia I turn off the hot water and place the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, giving the kitchen one last glance to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Jeff has already left for work, but if I’ve missed a dish, I’ll have to wash it by hand. He doesn’t like it when I miss something. Satisfied that all of the dishes are in the dishwasher, I put the soap in the compartment and push the start button. It’s not a big machine, but then, only two of us live in our tiny apartment for now. Jeff has made no secret that he hopes to have children soon. I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m not sure we are ready. Once the dishwasher is purring, I start to wipe down the counters and the stove. They are already clean. I constantly wipe down the surfaces in the kitchen because I have nothing better to do. Jeff has also made it clear that he doesn’t want his wife to have a job, even though he knows we could use the money. He has been at the financial advising firm for almost two years now. Meriweather and Associates is a great place to work, but I’m not sure that Jeff is as good at his job as he lets on. He has never gotten a raise, and a few times, he has come home late, drunk, angry that those “assholes” at work just don’t understand him. I think on those days he’s gotten in trouble for messing up his accounts. I can’t think about that, though. Most of the time, our life is comfortable. We live a pretty meager life in the largest city in the country, but no one knows that our existence is so pitiful. Jeff spends most of his salary on appearances, and we have a lot of credit card debt as well. His boss, Braxton Merriweather, is a billionaire. He throws lavish parties and invites people from his company to join him. Jeff never misses a chance because he wants to be a part of that world, even though we really are not. We come from a small town in the midwestern part of the country, thousands of miles from here. Worlds from h...

From This Moment (After We Fall 4) Read Free *************** One HANNAH I thought he was a ghost. The same one I’d seen a hundred times in the last eighteen months, doing all manner of everyday things. Driving the car behind me. Crossing the street in front of me. Jogging along the beach, sweat soaking one of his faded green Michigan State T-shirts that seemed to multiply in the wash. And it never failed. Every time, every single time, my heart would beat a little faster. I knew it! I knew he wasn’t really dead! They’d been wrong. I’d been right. He was still here. Except he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. “Hannah?” But the voice was pitch perfect. My breath caught as I experienced a euphoric millisecond of hope before I realized the man next to me in the produce section at Foley’s, the one with my husband’s face and voice and hands, was not an apparition at all, but his twin brother. “Wes.” I recovered, managing a smile I hoped would pass for glad, if not happy. But my insides trembled. I’d been dreading this moment ever since I’d heard he was moving back to take over his father’s medical practice. Like Drew was supposed to. “Hey.” We hugged, and I had to rise up on tiptoe, just like when I used to hug Drew. His chest was hard and muscular, and his shirt was dark blue. Drew had a shirt almost exactly like it. Don’t breathe. Don’t breathe. This has been a Good Day, and if he smells like Drew, it will slide the other way in a heartbeat. Pulling back, Wes crossed his arms and looked at me with Drew’s gray-green eyes, unable to mask the sadness in them. “It’s good to see you.” “You too,” I lied, twisting my wedding ring around my finger. It was a diamond eternity band. Eternity. What a crock. “How are you?” “I’m—I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine, I’d never be fine again, but I’d learned it was the answer everyone wanted to hear. “How are you?” “Okay. Still a little jet lagged.” I nodded. Wes had been in Africa working for Doctors Without Borders for the last several years. He’d come home for the funeral, but I’d basically been an automaton in those days. I don’t know whether it was my body’s defense mechanism or what, but I’d been so stunned, I’d barely felt a thing. It made no sense. A fatal heart attack at age thirty-four? But he was a doctor in perfect health! A man in the prime of his life! A father and husband and son and brother and friend! He couldn’t die—that was absurd. He had his entire life ahead of him. And we had plans! We were going to have more children and plant a garden and take a trip to Europe. We had dinner reservations and his father’s retirement and a three-year-old child to parent for the next fifteen years. And we were only halfway through the third season of Game of Thrones! He couldn’t die now! It took a week or so for the disbelief to subside into blind grief, and after that, I didn’t get out of bed for weeks, except to vomit. I have no idea who I saw in that time. Thankfully, my mother had stayed on to take care of Abby, and by the

Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose 1) Read Free *************** Magnolia Four years ago College campus on the East Coast I lie to myself. That’s what a person does when they’re hurt. They say they’re not hurt at all. “I’m fine … and Robert can go fuck himself.” The additional statement is an extra special truth to make the lie okay. I’m dead set on the words coming out of my mouth even though I’m alone in my apartment with no one here to listen to my declaration. The ball of anxiousness and betrayal in my throat lodges itself deep at the mere mention of his name. Funny enough, every gulp of Sweet Red I take seems to ease that cruel combo down and shrink it so I can swallow the bitter breakup. Wine and cupcakes. That’s what I’ve been working with tonight. I could eat a dozen cupcakes right now, but I only had two left over … and even the remnants of the frosting on their containers is gone. So now I’m down to just wine. Alcohol, sweets and trash TV is supposed to be how a girl deals with a breakup, right? I’m trying my darnedest to take all this in stride, but it freaking hurts. I’ve never been with anyone else. I’ve never loved anyone else. I don’t even know how to handle a “breakup.” If I can even call it that. He dumped me. Plain and simple. My high school sweetheart, the man I’ve been with for five years dumped me, and he did it over a freaking phone call. Tears prick the back of my eyes remembering how we just slept together when I was home last week and how adamantly I believed the words that came out of his mouth when he told me he loved me. I feel so stupid for believing him. I’m a fool for having no idea that this was going to happen. I need more cupcakes. Shoot, maybe I should buy a full-blown cake at this point. I pick up the half-empty bottle of red wine and pour another helping into the pale pink mug. You can achieve any goal you can dream is printed on the other side of it in a silver, feminine script. My goal right now: get wasted. And yes, I can achieve it. One point for me. I don’t own shot glasses, but a bottle of citrus vodka is next. Not having wineglasses didn’t hinder the wine, so why should a lack of shot glasses hinder the vodka? Two weeks ago, when I turned twenty-one and partied in my hometown to celebrate the last year I’d have away at college, my best friend, Renee, poured all the shots that night and left me the bottle. She’s a bartender back at home. Moving away from one of South Carolina’s coastal Sea Islands was insane for me to do in Renee’s eyes. She’s never had any intention of leaving. Not for college, not for anything. She loves the boating life and sea breeze. As do my other friends. Maybe that’s why Robert ended it. This long-distance relationship is too much all of a sudden. That doesn’t make sense, though. Maybe it was the long distance that kept him from severing the relationship. In less than a year, I’ll be back in our small town and it wouldn’t be a long-distance relationship anymore. Maybe he could deal with

Greek (Palm South University) Read Free *************** IF ANYONE WERE TO look down upon this scene from an aerial view, they would likely remark that it’s a lovely and serene sight to behold. A stunning penthouse suite at a gorgeous Mexican resort, the sheer white curtains floating in the breeze, the expanded balcony with a private hot tub and plunge pool all so alluring and beautiful. The magical backdrop of a pristine white beach and turquoise water, currently reflecting the full moonlight overhead, and the distant sound of the waves washing ashore. From the outside, it appears to be an absolutely extraordinary slice of paradise on Earth. But inside? It’s a goddamn disaster. “I… I… I’m a monster,” Cassie cries to herself, snot and tears dripping down her face as she rocks herself back and forth on one of the daybeds. She sniffs, not even bothering to wipe away the mascara staining her cheeks. “How could I do that to Adam? How can I ever live with myself again?” She balked. “How do I tell him? Oh, God.” She covers her face and sobs even harder, and Skyler winces, rubbing her back and doing her best to comfort her Little as she falls apart. Erin is pacing back and forth, arms folded hard over her chest as she shakes her head over and over, tossing between murmuring to herself and screaming curse words loud enough for the entire resort to hear. Something happened to her around the same time Cassie had her meltdown, about an hour ago amidst the thumping music of the beach club, but she has yet to tell us what, exactly. All we know is she looked at her phone, screamed bloody murder, cried, and has been pacing ever since we all dragged Cassie back here to console her. Ashlei disappeared into the bathroom as soon as we got back, and for how long she’s been in there, I can only imagine she’s ralphing up the fruity shots we’ve been knocking back all night. And then there’s me, swiping back and forth between two pictures on my phone, each depicting a different man I love. Swipe. Me on Kade’s back, my arms wrapped around his shoulders, lips pressed to his cheek as my hair falls over us like a curtain. His warm brown eyes are bright with love and adoration, his smile megawatt in size as he snaps the selfie. Swipe. Me and Jarrett in bed, his beast of a body encompassing all of mine as I curl my back into his chest like a cat. The morning sunlight reflects on our soft, sated smiles, and his dark eyes smolder at the camera, promising he’s nowhere near finished with the girl in his arms. Swipe. Kade. Swipe. Jarrett. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. Back and forth, over and over, I stare at those men — the men who own my heart — and feel it break at the realization that I will hurt one of them. That I’ve already hurt them both. I don’t deserve the patience they’ve given me — the space, the time. And I definitely don’t deserve their love. But I have it, and though I love them both in return, I know there’s no putting off the decision I have to make. The decision I

Completely (New York 3) Read Free *************** Chapter 1 Rosemary Chamberlain hadn’t showered in fifty-two days. She’d counted. Climbing was a waiting game, and climbing Mount Everest forced patience on those who didn’t have it. But Rosemary had patience in spades. She spent long, indistinguishable mornings huddled in a sleeping bag on the floor of a tent, perched on a shelf between the sky and the long drop, waiting for a break in the weather. Counting. Twenty-one days since she’d last worn fewer than two pairs of socks, and thirty-seven since she’d seen her own naked body. Seventeen cracks in the sole of the climbing boot. Five points on the toe cleat that she kicked into the ice. She put her weight on it, paused, waiting to see if it would hold. She counted the white clouds of her exhalation—two, three, four—and pushed hard to engage her quads. They burned, but that didn’t matter. Her left arm came up, synchronized, and drove the ice ax in. Above her, the orange blob that was her team’s guide, Indira, beckoned with one arm. She shouted something, but the wind took her words before they could reach Rosemary’s ears. She found a good placement for her left foot, weighted it, counted her breath, straightened her leg, swung her ax. Three team members ahead. Four behind. If she could just know how many feet remained between her and the summit, she would count them down, but she couldn’t, so she counted everything else. She’d written six thousand words yesterday. Two thousand competent and chirpy for an article that would appear on a conservationist website in England, four thousand plodding and uninspired on the draft of the first significant piece of her book. She needed to turn it in to her publisher as soon as she’d completed this climb—it was meant to be a magazine article, with the serial rights already sold to a major American outdoor publication—but she knew what she’d written lacked the spark her editor was looking for, the inspiration that would turn Rosemary’s book into a bestseller. This morning, she’d taken a walk around the perimeter of Base Camp with Indira, speculating about their chances at making the summit. They spotted three birds flying low against the bleak sky, which Indira had told her was a good sign. Some climbers adopted magical thinking. Rosemary preferred to count. Her teammate Anna had three children, four, six, and nine years old. Her husband wanted a divorce. Her husband didn’t understand why Anna couldn’t get a job at a bank and stay home with her family, but Rosemary did. Anna’s family was for the quiet pauses in between the swings of her ax. The mountain was her life. Rosemary’s left leg trembled uncontrollably when she leaned into it. She paused to rest and looked out at the alien landscape of snow and ice, bald rock, clear blue sky. She didn’t know if Everest was her life. She only knew that she’d spent most of her adulthood barely living, then left everything behind to set off down the path that led her here.

His Third Wife Read Free *************** “The New South” After a predictable rising sun had rolled through hopscotch maps of plantations, crawled along the tips of decaying steeples in suburban enclaves, and made its way to the ambitious stacking skyline that marked Atlanta’s city center, a body was found all akimbo in the middle of Peachtree Street. People who’d come from pollen-covered cars that had been slowed to a crawl in both directions along the venous strip, which connected all of what was being called the official “capital of the New South,” looked to the sky, like maybe the bloody brown mess had fallen from the sun’s fiery rays. One person pointed. Then two pointed. Three. Then four. A reporter arrived. And then a police officer. All pointed to the top of the Downtown Westin. The body in the street in the bloody gray suit had come from there. Had to have. One pointing son asked his mother, “Was that a woman up there looking down at us?” Further along in the crowd, a co-worker asked a driver, “Was that a man dressed as a woman standing at the top of the Westin?” A wife said to her husband and then later to a police officer, “It was a woman. A woman in a dress.” Her husband disagreed: “It was a man dressed as a woman. The shoulders were too broad.” Then they started arguing about there being two women up there. Well, a woman and a man dressed as a woman. But some hadn’t seen anything. Just a shadow. Maybe a bird sitting on the edge looking down at the body like prey. Soon it was a scene. And someone in a white cloth jumpsuit lifted what was left of the head that had been crushed by the weight of the fall, and in the pieces and fragments of a once familiar face made out a truth. This was no angel that had fallen from the sun to halt rush-hour traffic. It was the new mayor. That was when the talk started. When it would never stop. Because that man, the mayor who’d fallen from the top of the Westin to the black tar, was Jamison Taylor. Everything the chocolate side of the city could be proud of and the white side could use as an example of Southern progress. Born poor in the SWATS. A Morehouse man. Fraternity guy. Self-made millionaire. A heart that won the old guard. A voice that had vowed to repave the very street that had become his deathbed. A soul that wanted everything he could imagine. And he was dead. The city dressed in black for the funeral. And from the boardrooms in Buckhead to the lunch counters at the Busy Bee and Chanterelle’s in the West End, chatter was king. There was a first wife. A new wife. A mother. A son. A fat pig’s belly worth of secrets. A mess of shadows that everyone thought they could see clearly. Politics at its finest. Headlines. But that was just the tipping point of it all. Stories like that never begin with a body falling from a mid-level hotel. PART I “. . . to have and to hold, from this day forward . . .” “His Next Wife” Everything started when a mother came to town. Quiet and all alone, she got off a Gr

Drawn To You (Paloma's Edge 1) Read Free *************** Prologue Four days ago… Chase Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking .— H. Jackson Brown, Jr. (Life’s Little Instruction Book) In a blink of an eye, I missed her. And with my luck, I’d never see her again. I’d waved to Scott, one of my teammates and friends, as he got into his Explorer and began his drive back to Ohio for the summer. I turned away from the girl for the slightest moment. She’d stood at the end of a long, crowded line for the bus. A middle-aged man had passed by the girl. His hands were full. Bills fell out of the side of his pocket. No one else in the line had noticed. They’d been chatting with other people, anxiously waiting for the first-come-first-serve bus. The major benefit: the bus was cheap. The girl, however, had noticed. She’d picked up the bills and had run after the guy to return his money to him. Grateful, he’d made a gesture in what had to be an offer for some cash in return. But she’d declined and he’d left. Her suitcase had been tossed farther back. When she’d gotten back on the line, it’d increased in size. Before I’d observed her look out for a complete stranger, I was gonna try to talk to her, ’cause she looked good in her t-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers. After my appointment with my coach, I had promised myself that if she was still there when I came out of my meeting in fifteen minutes, I’d give her a drive to where she needed to go to get to her destination. Chapter 1 Bethany Beth, Sorry but love doesn’t wait for you to be ready for it. – Cindy, xoxo As I sat down by my bed, I must have read Cindy’s clichéd note a hundred times. I instantly knew that Cindy had left me because she was convinced that she was having the love affair of a lifetime. My mom, Cindy Leann Pruitt, had always insisted that I call her by first name since before I could walk; it was ingrained in me. My friends had thought it was cool when we were little. Their parents, though, hadn’t, and I had always felt like I was looked upon as a latchkey kid. Most folks in our small town—Franklin Parks, Florida—expected the worst from me because of Cindy. Trust me, I wanted to call her Mom…because, well, she was my parent. And that was what everyone else I knew who had moms did. I had told her how detached from her it made me feel to call her by her first name, how other kids had looked at me like I was a new creature at the zoo—or avoided me altogether. Today, my plan had been to wait for the first-come-first-served bus that took kids from the University of Miami back to Franklin Parks. However, Mariska and Jake, my two best friends, had called as I waited on the never-ending line and said that they’d pick me up. My beloved Ford Taurus, Betsy, had retired on me during New Year’s Eve. After I had spent some time with Jake and Mariska, I wanted to come home to Cindy. When I’d come home tonight, it’d been silent. There hadn’t been any evidence that she had recently been her

Say Yes Read Free *************** 1 Walker My gaze flicked over the neatly tri-folded stack of paper for the dozenth time, the inside of my cheek gripped firmly between my teeth as I chewed in contemplation. Nothing in the will had changed since it’d first been read to me by my father’s lawyer just days following his passing. The Times New Roman font splashed over the yellowed letterhead read as ominously now as it had the first time. ‘…and finally, to my son, Walker Prince. I would like see him with controlling interest—my interest—in Royal Technology. But this controlling share must come with something more important: a wife with whom to share his wealth and prosperity as I once did with my own, who—’ I stopped reading then, giving a scoff. I’d been doing that a lot lately, every time I decided to torture myself by re-reading my father’s last words. Just like him, to bring my mother into this, too. As if that justified this sham of a last will and testament. What was this, some cheesy B-grade rom-com? When had the old man gotten so damn sentimental? And now his sentimentality was being foisted upon me in the most ill-conceived plot-twist of anyone’s life. I sighed and tossed the will down on the large mahogany desk in my office. It was a good goddamn thing Grant, my best friend, partner in crime—and the only person outside the family lawyer who knew about this ridiculous situation—wasn’t here. He found the whole thing entirely too fucking funny. “Damn, I guess your father had a sense of humor after all. You? Married? Ha!” Dick. I shook my head ruefully, running a hand through my hair. Shit. He wouldn’t be laughing so hard if it were him. Grant could barely keep it in his pants; let him attempt a solid commitment for once. Why hadn’t my father made this stipulation while he was alive? At least then it wouldn’t fall on me to do this hastily. The will clearly stipulated that I would be unable to claim my inheritance without proof of marriage. I hated the last-minute, rushed foolishness that this was—and apparently, it was all fully fucking legal, every ‘i’ dotted and every ‘t’ crossed. There wasn’t a single damn loophole to be found. Believe me, I had checked. A buzzing sounded over my intercom, pulling me from my prolonged internal grumbling. Good—a distraction. “Midday cleaning is heading up, Mr. Prince.” “Thanks, Anna. Send them on in.” I re-folded the discarded will and shoved it into my desk drawer, indulging in a brief daydream where the whole thing spontaneously combusted and released me from my father’s ridiculous obligations. But instead of going up in a well-timed inferno, the letter just sat peacefully in the drawer, taunting me. I leaned back in my office chair, gaze cast up at the ceiling. Maybe I could find a way out of this. There had to be some way… “Hello? Excuse me, sir.” A soft knock sounded at the door, and then it creaked as it opened. “I’m Mackenzie Henson, here to do the cleaning?” I blinked and sat up so fast I nearly got

Room for Love Read Free *************** Chapter 1 Six years away hadn’t improved the Avalon Inn any, Carrie realized, staring out her car window at the crumbling wreck of a building. The roof tiles still sat wonky, the terrace seemed to be sinking into the grass, and moss had crept so far up the building it appeared to have taken over the stonework. In other words, it looked like home. The place she’d spent endless childhood summers, reading by firelight or adventuring through overgrown gardens. The scene of her first kiss. Fourteen years old, dressed in Grandma Nancy’s second best silk gown, dancing on the terrace with one of the local boys. He’d sung along to the music, his breath warm against her ear as they’d hidden in the darkness, looking through the window at the women dancing, their long dresses swirling. And along the terrace, they could smell the smoke curling up from the cigars of the men in dinner jackets holding important conversations. Just through the front door, Carrie knew, stood the ornate, curving main staircase, the site of her cousin Ruth’s many fictional weddings. And somewhere, shoved in the bottom of a cupboard, she’d probably find a dressing-up box holding the endless parade of secondhand bridesmaid’s dresses Ruth had dressed Carrie in for the occasions. All so, so familiar. She could almost see Grandma Nancy skipping down the front steps, if she tried. Carrie squinted for a second, before the twinge of guilt that always accompanied the thought of six years of absence caught up with her. So instead she turned her attention back to the sound of her boss’s voice coming through her hands-free kit. Because Grandma Nancy would never walk down those steps again, and Carrie had grown up into a professional businesswoman now, no longer an imaginative child. “Well anyway,” Anna Yardley said, obviously coming to the end of a conversational ramble Carrie had been fortunate enough to miss. “I’m looking forward to seeing it. If it’s as magical as you described, it could be a real asset to the business.” Carrie winced, looking out again at the faded grey stone building looming over the Welsh valley, trying to see it through Anna’s unsentimental eyes. Trying to see it as the jewel in the Wedding Wishes crown, the dream venue of every bride. “It’ll need work, of course,” Carrie said, understating for all she was worth. A chill settled in her chest. Suddenly, her well-thought-out proposal seemed rash. Risky. But still the only way she could think of to keep both the Avalon and her job. It was all very well, her gran leaving her the inn. But the money to fix it up would have been useful, too. “Of course, of course.” Anna didn’t sound concerned. Probably because she couldn’t see the collapsing terrace, and didn’t know about the color-themed bedrooms with their chintzy curtains and pelmets. And Anna wasn’t the one who’d promised to make the inn not just habitable, but luxurious. “But such a fantastic location. Less than two hours from Manch

The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1) Read Free *************** Willow Those bitches were gonna die. That was a horrible thing to say about my so-called ‘friends’—and I used the word friends loosely, because true friends wouldn’t ditch you the day of your scheduled road trip because they’d rather be sunbathing in the Hamptons. The fucking Hamptons. Ew. I mean, how clichéd could you get? This was why I hated rich people. It also sucked that I was one of those rich people. Well, I wasn’t, but my dad was. So by extension so was I. When you grew up with a rock star for a dad, cameras and eyes followed you everywhere. It was exhausting. I couldn’t just be Willow. I was Willow Wade. The daughter of the famous drummer Maddox Wade. People expected greatness from me. I just wanted to graduate college without slitting my wrists. I fiddled with the radio, changing it to a country station—my dad would most definitely not approve—and let my blonde hair whip around my shoulders courtesy of the open windows. The drive from NYU to my childhood home in Virginia was only about five hours, but it felt ten times longer thanks to the crazy traffic trying to get out of the city. I might’ve yelled at a lot of people. And waved my middle finger out the window. My parents would be so proud. Not. My failed road trip might’ve been the reason I was headed home and not out west, but I was excited to be back where I grew up. My freshman year of college had been trying, to say the least. For most people college was their chance to spread their wings. Me? I found it oppressive. That was probably due to the fact that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Did I want to act? Sing? Dance? Join a traveling circus? I thought by going to NYU it would force me to finally decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

The Lies We Tell (The Four 1) Read Free Starting over after my father’s sudden death was bad enough, but the four boys who rule Alstone College, my new university, are determined to make my life even more difficult. One in particular. Caiden Cavendish.My nightmare. My shadow. My stepbrother.My dad’s death was an accident... Lie.My life isn’t in danger... Lie.The Four won’t bring mayhem to my life... Lie.I don’t want Caiden Cavendish... Lie.Lies.Lies.Lies.Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.The Four are coming for you, Snow.Note: This book is not a standalone, and may contain triggers for some readers. *************** PROLOGUE One year ago… At Alstone College, we were kings. Untouchable. People called us “the Four.” How fucking original. We’d had the nickname since we’d first banded together at school—me, Zayde, and Cassius, all fourteen, and my brother Weston, thirteen. Now, with all of us at university and living together, we were closer than ever. Yeah, only me and Weston were related by blood, but they were all my brothers. Truth was, I didn’t have time for many people, other than my boys. Women were good for one thing, and if it didn’t involve a willing pussy or having my dick sucked, I wasn’t interested. Speaking of… “Time’s up.” I clapped my hands, startling the two topless blondes making out in front of me. They drew apart, heavy-lidded with arousal and the effects of the alcohol and weed they’d been smoking. One of the women continued to fondle the tits of the other, moaning, but my dick didn’t even stir. This shit was getting old, fast. I took another drag of my blunt. “Didn’t you hear me? Out. Now.” I pointed at the door, and they got the message. Fucking finally. “You sending away perfectly good pussy?” Cassius wandered in, grabbing the blunt from my hand and taking a huge drag. “Wasn’t that good, believe me.” He raised a sceptical brow. “How much have you had to drink?” I glanced at the empty bottle of Jack, thrown next to me on the sofa. “Shit. All of it.” “Brewer’s droop. Too much alcohol decreases the blood flow to your dick.” Cassius nodded sagely, as if he was a fucking medical expert. “That’s why you sent them away. Couldn’t get it up.” “Fuck off.” “Nah, think I’ll stay.” He slumped down next to me, throwing his legs onto the coffee table, knocking my phone onto the floor. “Watch it, mate.” I heard the door slam as I swiped my phone from under the coffee table, as Weston and Zayde burst into the room. Something, a premonition, had me sitting bolt upright, the haze from the drugs temporarily clearing as adrenaline raced through me. Weston spoke two words, his voice calm and measured, but his eyes showed the underlying worry he was trying to hide. “Code blue.” Fuck. ONE “Kinslee, I need you to be my guide in everything. What or who do I need to know?” I stood, hands on hips, watching my housemate as she blew out a breath, tapping her lip in thought. “Nothing specific I can think of right now, but stick with me and you’ll be fine. First, and mos

The Boy on the Bridge Read Free *************** “I always loved you, and if one loves any one, one loves the whole person, just as they are and not as one would like them to be.” -Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina Part One Chapter One Riley 14-years-old As I amble along the path toward the footbridge, I adjust the heavy backpack threatening to leave a permanent indent on my shoulder. My backpack broke earlier this school year, but my mom stitched the strap back on. It has held up just fine for a while, but today Mom had to work so she couldn’t pick me up from school. That means I have to walk home. Apparently, all the extra jostling popped the threads, because about a mile ago the darn thing gave out. Now I’m trying to lug this heavy sack of books on just one shoulder and that shoulder isn’t thrilled about it. Movement ahead startles me and I gasp, clutching the backpack strap instinctively. Someone is sitting on the footbridge with their feet dangling over the edge, palms braced on the aged wood. They’re looking down into the water, not paying me any mind, so my grip eases up and my racing heart begins to slow down. Normally, there’s no one else on this path, and I feel uneasy that someone is now. Like they’ve found a place that was supposed to be secret and shown up uninvited. I guess since I stopped walking—or maybe it was my gasp—I catch the attention of the stranger on the bridge. Only when he turns his head to look at me, I see it’s no stranger at all. Hunter Maxwell is the intruder sitting on my favorite bridge. We go to school together, but we’ve never spoken. He’s kind of a popular jerk who comes to school just to hang out with his friends, and I’m kind of a quiet bookworm who actually shows up to learn. I can’t imagine we would have anything to say to one another. He must agree, because as soon as he recognizes me, he looks away—back down at the rippling water beneath the footbridge. Something unpleasant turns over in my tummy. It feels like rejection, but that’s silly. I don’t care if Hunter Maxwell dismisses me. I didn’t want to talk to him, anyway. Lifting my chin and bracing the strap on my shoulder, I set about ignoring him right back. I march across the distance between us, then march right past him. Before I make it off the bridge and onto the dirt path toward home, his low tone interrupts the mutually held silence. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me today.” I stop abruptly, frowning as I look back at him. “Excuse me?” His sigh is impatient, but he repeats himself anyway. “The school thinks I’m out of town. No one normally comes this way.” Now he turns his head to look at me. “You know this is private property, right? Mine. You shouldn’t trespass.” I’m so surprised, I only really hear the first part. As soon as he turns his head, I get a better look at the side of his face I didn’t see the first time he looked at me. The skin around his left eye is agitated and swollen. It kinda looks like he got hit in the face. The distance between us on

Unwritten (Beachwood Bay 7) Read Free *************** Prologue New Year’s Eve I only have one New Year’s resolution, and it’s the same I’ve had for six years now: Make Blake Callahan fall madly, deeply, and uncontrollably in love with me. Every year, I write it in big block letters on the first page of my new journal, and every year, I finish out December with those some words still taunting me. But not this time. This year, I’ve decided, I’m really going to make it happen. “Happy New Year!” Noise floods through my thoughts. The party is in full swing around me, hundreds of people crammed into the amazing beachfront mansion. Music plays so loud I can feel it in my chest, and everywhere I look, people are flirting and laughing, getting ready for that midnight kiss. I check my phone. 11:47 p.m., thirteen minutes to midnight. My heart beats faster. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. I pour myself a shot of bourbon from the bar and down it with a shudder. Then I scan the room, looking for Blake. I’ve managed to avoid running into him all night. I flew in from Paris late, and got ready with the girls. I told myself it was to make a big impact, but I know, deep down, it’s nerves. I haven’t laid eyes on him in two years. Not since— No, I stop myself, pouring another shot before I can relive the past. I knock it back, feeling the alcohol warm my bloodstream, making me brave. It’s now or never. I slip through the crowd, looking for his familiar glint of blonde hair and that chiseled jawline that always belonged on the front cover of a magazine. My nerves are rising. Don’t bottle it now, Zoey, I order myself. You can do this. I look harder, searching every face— There he is. My pulse kicks. He’s in the corner, leaning against the wall, looking illegally hot in a vintage white T-shirt and jeans that deserve an award for their services to womankind. He smiles, flashing a million-watt grin—at the adoring girl standing next to him. My heart sinks. Humiliation crashes through me. I thought he didn’t have a girlfriend! I may have stayed away from Blake these past two years in Europe, but it’s been impossible to escape him. A rising star in Hollywood, he’s a gossip column favorite. And what I didn’t pick up by osmosis from the tabloids, Tegan would gossip about in our weekly Skype dates. Tegan Callahan: my best friend. And Blake’s younger sister. See, there’s a reason I’ve never made a move like this before. There’s too much on the line, risking our friendship—and the only real family I’ve ever had. I’ve known Blake since I was fourteen. He’s only four years older than me, and that’s a lifetime when you’re an awkward, gangly teen. Not to mention the whole “best friend’s brother” part of the equation. I don’t know what Tegan would do if she ever found out about my feelings, I just know the risk has kept me silent all these years. The one time I even came close to revealing how I feel about him ended in disaster, so I swore I would never try again until

Accidental Meeting (Accidental Hook-Up 3) Read Free I wanted her the first time I laid my eyes on her.I don't know what it is about her, but I need her to be mine.She's in trouble and needs my help.But I don't do commitments,And I don't help for free.She'll have to give something in return.It was just supposed to be a one night stand,Until things quickly changed in the bedroom.Actually, everything changes.And now, I want to give up my playboy lifestyle...only for this girl.I need her to be mine forever.But life isn't that simple, is it?She's got questions that are difficult to answer. Could our Accidental Meeting lead to our future together? *************** Chapter One – Tia “No, no, no!” the director yells. He’s getting angrier by the second, I can tell by the redness of his cheeks and that angry vein popping out of his forehead. “You can’t say it like that, it needs to have emotion.” Humiliation and shame rushes through me. A heat creeps up from my toes and a coolness trickles down my back. It feels like all eyes are upon me and everyone in this room hates me for making yet another mistake. The funny thing is this isn’t aimed at me. I’m not the star here, just another extra in the background, but it’s the first real scene that I’ve ever been involved in and I hate the fact that it isn’t going right. Yes, I’ve done other acting jobs back in my home town, that’s how I know that I do have a bit of talent, but since moving to Los Angeles, Hollywood to be exact, this is my first job. A small, teeny tiny stepping stone, to what I hope will be bigger things. I need it to make it to bigger things. This has to work for me, I honestly don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. “I am putting emotion into it,” the main star, the semi famous but a complete diva, Olivia, whines. “No, you aren’t.” The director remains firm. “Don’t bullshit me. I can see right through you here.” “Well then I just don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.” Olivia throws her hands up in dismay. I do. I could easily tell her what she’s doing wrong, she isn’t becoming the character. She’s bored, distracted, probably having personal problems. It’s so obvious. But I can’t risk alienating the sort of person who I eventually want to become my equal now, can I? Actually, the dream is to overtake her. I’m not fame hungry, wanting the paparazzi following my every move, but the idea of being that successful really speaks to me. I want to leave my mark on the world, and this is the only way I can do it. “Stupid bitch,” the hard faced woman next to me comments in a much too loud whisper. She grabs everyone’s attention and I feel that shame washing over me again. I feel guilty, even though I didn’t say it, so I probably look like I’ve done something wrong too. If only I could defend myself, but that will probably only make it worse. “You!” The director points right at me. “The blonde one. Come here.” Shit, shit, shit. My eyes flicker down and hit the ground. I need to find a way to explain that

Out on the Serve (Out in College 7) Read Free Roommates to friends to lovers… Elliot-I need a roommate fast. Even a temporary one. Beggars can’t be choosers. Going pro after graduation has been intense, and time is precious. Thankfully, Braden seems cool. He’s a little quirky…and very sexy. Of course, I would never get involved with a roommate. That’s a bad idea. Isn’t it?Braden-Moving to Long Beach seems like a no brainer. It’ll be a perfect chance to wind down before grad school and a nice respite from my folks. Plus, my new roommate is a great guy. A little messy, but sweet. Gotta admit, I like him more than I should. And we’re off to a strange start when a mutual friend hooks me up with his ex. Elliot’s the one I want, but going from friends to lovers is a risk. We could end up out on the serve…or we could win it all.Out on the Serve is a low-angst MM, bisexual romance starring two roommates, one neat, one messy, beach volleyball, a lot of sand, and a little summer fun. This story is part of the Out in College series but can be read as a stand-alone. *************** 1 Elliot “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think.”—L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables Rain pelted against the sliding glass window, and the wind whistled through the tiny crack where the front door was propped open by a single red flip-flop. Three neatly stacked boxes and two giant suitcases blocked the path to the living area. Hushed conversation drifted from the bedroom. The words weren’t clear, but there was an unmistakable note of urgency in the high-pitched voices that communicated a desire to move quickly. I was in complete favor of that. I hated moving. Thankfully, I didn’t have much to do here. My main chore was to schlep a few boxes and meet a potential roommate. According to Sophie, I was going to love this guy. Her extra intonation on the L-word made me wary, but Soph was a theater girl. Everything with her was a little “extra.” Including her exit. She brought my ex-girlfriend with her “to help her pack.” Anna and I were cool, but geez, this felt like the longest day ever. I stuck my hands into my pockets and strained to listen for a hint that they were almost ready. “Hey, Soph. How’s it going?” “Good. We’re packing up the last bits in the closet. Braden should be here any minute,” she called from the bedroom. Any minute could mean twenty with Sophie. Plenty of time to make a sandwich. I skirted the kitchen island and opened the refrigerator, staring at the mostly bare shelves before pulling out a package of cheddar cheese and a stick of butter. Grilled cheese was easy. And it was comfort food. Not that I needed comforting. I didn’t. This situation was just…awkward. Knock, knock. “Hello?” a masculine voice called. I set the cheese and butter on the counter just as Sophie and Anna appeared carrying a couple of overstuffed tote bags and a ruffled pink-and-yellow duvet between them. They could have easily passed for sisters. Both were on the petite side wi

The Gravity of Us (Elements 4) Read Free *************** 2015 Before Mama passed away five years ago, she left three gifts for my sisters and me. On my sister Mari’s front porch sat the wooden rocking chair Mama gave her. Mari received the rocking chair because Mama always worried that her mind was always on the go. Mari was the middle child and had a way of constantly feeling as if she was missing out on something in life, which led to her oftentimes living in limbo. “If you don’t stop overthinking things, you’re going to put your brain into overdrive, baby girl. It’s okay to go slower sometimes,” Mama would say to her. The rocking chair was a reminder for Mari to slow down and take a few moments to embrace life, to not let it pass her by. Our oldest sister, Lyric, received a small music box with a dancing ballerina. When we were children, Lyric dreamed of being a dancer, but over the years, she packed that dream away. After growing up with Mama, who was a lifelong wild child, Lyric began to resent the idea of a career based on passion. Mama lived her life in the most passionate way, and at times, that meant we didn’t know where our next meal would be coming from. When the rent was due, we’d be packed up and off on our next adventure. Lyric and Mama fought all the time. I believed my sister felt responsible for us all, feeling as if she had to mother her own mother. Mari and I were young and free; we loved the adventures, but Lyric hated it. She hated not having a solid place to call home, hated the fact that Mama had no structure in her life. She hated that her freedom was her cage. When the opportunity came for Lyric to leave, she left our sides and went off to become a fancy lawyer. I never knew what happened to the small music box, but I hoped Lyric still held on to it. Always dance, Lyric, Mama used to say to my sister. Always dance. My gift from Mama was her heart. It was a tiny heart-shaped gem she’d worn around her neck since she was a teenager, and I felt honored to receive it from her. “It’s the heart of our family,” she told me. “From one wild one to another, may you never forget to love fully, my Lucille. I’ll need you to keep our family together and be there for your sisters during the hard times, okay? You’ll be their strength. I know you will because you already love so loudly. Even the darkest souls can find some kind of light from your smile. You’ll protect this family, Lucy, I know you will, and that’s why I’m not afraid to say goodbye.” The necklace hadn’t left my neck since Mama passed away years ago, but that summer afternoon I held it tighter in my hand as I stared at Mari’s rocking chair. After Mama’s death, Mari was shaken to her core, and every belief she’d been taught about spirituality and freedom felt like a lie. “She was too young,” Mari told me the day Mama passed away. She believed we were supposed to have time that was closer to forever. “It’s not fair,” she cried. I was only eighteen when she passed, and Mari wa

Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts 5) Read Free *************** Chapter One Emmett “Emmet Bailey just tapped! Oh my god, Bailey just tapped out!” Marshawn Anderson yells through my TV speakers. Pressing rewind, I watch the same fifteen seconds over again. There, live and in living color, I watch as Jamey Silva tweaks my arm past the point of no return. My shoulder makes a pop that’s heard over the screaming fans. I didn’t plan on tapping out while he was trying to rip my arm from my body, but the moment I felt all the ligaments tear and the shoulder pop out of socket, I tapped. I press rewind on the DVR and watch it again. “Emmet Bailey just tapped! Oh my god, Bailey just tapped out!” “I can’t believe it either, Marshawn. I just can’t—” Jack Harper starts to say before Marshawn cuts him off. “Wait… That doesn’t look good, Jack. Bailey isn’t getting up.” I watch as my trainer and best friend Tommy Babson rushes into the cage. Jamey Silva is still doing his victory lap. He does his signature backflip and just about knocks over the doctor who rushed in behind Tommy with his antics. There’s a serious medical emergency in the ring and that douchebag couldn’t fucking care less. I leave the recording playing as the commentators of the match start trying to ease the viewers into the unfolding drama that became my life. Right there on the mat, I’m aching, trying to sit up. My left arm is dangling uselessly at my side. My face, bloody and sweaty, shows the immense pain I’m going through. I know I should be all manly, ignore the pain and shit, but right then I thought I was about to fucking die. I’ve suffered losses before, after all an eighteen-to-three record isn’t bad by any means, but I’d never been through anything that came close to the hell I was experiencing at that moment. It was both physical and mental. When I walked into the arena that night, it never even occurred to me that I would be leaving in an ambulance to the hospital, no longer the Welterweight Champion. I know of loss and pain, I’ve dealt with it my entire life, but watching as Tommy helps me up, I’ve never felt so weak before. Ever. So weak and fucking useless. Setting the remote down on the couch beside me, I lean over to my end table and grab the sweaty bottle of beer off the coaster. Taking a long swig, I continue to watch the TV. It’s the look on my face that tells the world it’s all over. That I’ve officially been beaten. I’ve lost my belt, lost my sense of self-worth, and lost my job. It’s all fucking over. Jamey Silva starts dancing around as the ref comes over to stand between us. Then the ref lifts Jamey’s hand while mine stays down. Tommy stands by my injured side, holding me up. Every single fond childhood memory I have has him there in the background, always the fucking cheerleader to my jock lifestyle. Tears well up on the brim of my eyelids. Yeah, always there for me. He and his parents always there for me when I would catch a beating from my dad. The Babsons took me in wh

Starting From the Top (Starting from 5) Read Free The guitarist, the dad, and a band on the rise… Johnny A quiet place to live and some time to recharge before my band heads out on the road again sounds amazing. I wouldn’t mind a distraction too, but my new neighbor is off-limits. There are rules about not getting involved with your bandmate’s ex, right? And Sean isn’t my type anyway. He’s too bossy, too commanding, and he has way too much baggage. I’ve learned that it’s best to let go of the heavy stuff. So why am I so drawn to him? Sean Coming out later in life has taught me to protect my privacy at all costs. And while juggling a handful of businesses and two kids isn’t easy, I excel at the art of multitasking and keeping everything separate. But Johnny blurs those lines. He’s easy-going, sweet-natured, and cool. In short, he’s everything I’m not. I want to know all about him…starting from the top.Starting From The Top is a MM, bisexual romance with some rock and roll, an age gap, and a little family fun! Each book in the Starting From series can be read as a stand-alone. *************** 1 Johnny “Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.”—Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man Sunlight flooded the space through the wall of newly installed windows, casting an ethereal glow reminiscent of a church at sundown. It bounced off the shiny hardwood flooring and sleek built-in cabinetry in the living area. Everything sparkled and shone like a shiny penny. Well, not everything. The cans of paint stacked beside the tower of scaffolding where the ceiling’s peak was at its highest ruined the illusion. Or maybe it was the death metal blasting through the speakers. Nah, music was life. It brought depth and character to this otherwise blank canvas and made it feel a little more like home. My home. My first ever actual house. I’d bought this place myself with my own hard-earned rock and roll money. No outside assistance and no roommate needed to help pay the mortgage. This was all me and damn, it felt good. A reason to celebrate for sure. I played air guitar as I danced around a ladder, adding a screechy soundtrack for effect. When the song climaxed with a wicked crescendo, I fell to my knees, raising my phantom instrument above my head like a true rock god performing in front of twenty thousand fans. I held my pose, then collapsed theatrically with my arms and legs spread wide and a big, stupid grin on my face. My cell buzzed in my pocket before I could jump to my feet and take a bow to my party of none. I sat up and answered my phone with a self-satisfied grin. “Marry me, Ann. I’m in love.” The woman on the line chuckled softly. “I’ll pass along the proposal. This is Fiona, her business partner. She’s in Aspen at the moment, but I promised to check in on her famous client.” I snorted. “I don’t know about famous, but thanks for checking in. Wyatt’s doing an amazing job.” “And what do you know? I’m sitt

More Than Anything Read Free *************** A chance encounter in an empty stairway leads to a magical Christmas for Hollywood actress Allie Gilbert and enigmatic billionaire Braden Rhodes. * * * Now, two years after a whirlwind romance, secret wedding, and an abrupt separation, they would both rather forget that passionate Christmas when they fell in love... * * * ...but fate has other plans. Book One Past One Braden It was a small Christmas Eve dinner with delicious food, expensive wine, tasteful holiday music interrupted every so often by the chink of silver and crystal, and under the polished cherrywood formal dining table, somebody’s foot was stroking my leg. I was seated to the right of the hostess, Anna Douglas, a former model whose sole occupation after becoming the fourth wife of billionaire Henry Douglas was to give dinners and discuss her efforts on the boards of prestigious charities. Opposite me, my date for the night, Lilianna Arden, supermodel and twenty-sixth sexiest woman alive, was deep in a conversation with Anna. Lilianna caught my gaze and gave me a wide smile. She was a sweet girl, very vain about her looks, uninterested in anything beyond fashion, the next runway appearance, and the luxuries she enjoyed by dating men like me. There was an extra fullness around her lips I hadn’t noticed earlier, and it made me chuckle. For Lilianna, getting work done was something one did as casually as popping into the salon to get a manicure. She continued talking, but Anna gave me a meaningful smile, holding my gaze as she inched her foot a little higher. “Will you be in St. Barts for New Year’s? I hear Oleg Gregovich New Year’s Eve party is going to be all the rave this year. Last year, it was in Dubai, at the Burj, far above the clouds. So marvelous, don’t you think?” I turned from Anna Douglas’s brazen gaze to the woman seated on my other side, columnist Sally Felton. She had been best friends with Henry’s first wife and quickly switched that affection to the latest wife whenever he went through a divorce. She’d been trying to hold my attention all through dinner, but I wasn’t interested enough to wonder why. I gave her a polite smile. “I don’t know, Sally. I’m far more likely to be working.” She frowned, bemused. “You’re a billionaire—surely you don’t need to work on New Year’s Eve?” “Braden is a workaholic,” Henry Douglas boomed from his place at the top of the table. “He reminds me of myself when I was his age.” “I’m flattered,” I replied with a chuckle, wondering what he would say if he knew what his wife’s foot was doing under the table. There was no point in arguing about the workaholic part. I didn’t know how to be idle. There was always something to be done, and who better to make it happen than the person I trusted a hundred percent, me. I worked hard, but I also made a point to play, very hard. Anna’s leg was now inching up my calf. I met her gaze again, and her red lips parted, lifting in a small, sexy smile. She was beaut

My Kind of Perfect (Finding Love 3) Read Free *************** Apple Music Feels Great - Cheat Codes House Party - Sam Hunt Ain’t My Fault – Zara Larsson Blue Tacoma – Russell Dickerson Sorry – Justin Bieber Eenie Meenie – Justin Bieber & Sean Kingston Feelings Show – Colbie Caillat This Feeling – The Chainsmokers I’m Yours – Alessia Cara Behind These Hazel Eyes – Kelly Clarkson Just the Way You Are – Bruno Mars The Difference – Tyler Rich I Don’t Care – Ed Sheeran & Justin Bieber Gold – Britt Nicole Take Back Home Girl- Chris Lane Give Your Heart a Break – Demi Lovato Wanted – Hunter Hayes There’s No Way – Lauv What Do You Mean? – Justin Bieber Can’t Take Her Anywhere – Dylan Scott Tie Me Down – Gryffin & Elley Duhé To Bret, for loving me imperfectly perfect. Chase “Hey… Yeah, I’m on my way,” my wife whispers into the phone, thinking I’m asleep. I had to pull an extra shift at work because two of the guys called out, and then we were up all night putting out a fire that resulted in a mom and her baby both losing their lives. I love my job as a firefighter, but some days it’s harder than others. We want to save them all, and it sucks when we can’t. “I’ll see you soon,” she says softly, using a tone very unlike her. I crack an eye open and see her standing in front of our dresser, putting her big hoop earrings into her ears. She’s dressed in a short, tight, leopard dress and tall as fuck heels that show off her mile long legs. Her long, dyed, black hair has been straightened, and her face, which is being reflected in the mirror, is covered in makeup. She’s going out without me… again. I take a moment to assess her features. My wife is hot. Always has been. And dressed the way she is right now, she looks every bit like the model she once was—before fame got to her head and destroyed her career. But if you remove the makeup, you’ll see the wrinkles around her mouth from years of smoking. And if you look closely at the creases in her arms, you’ll see the scars from the needles. She’s been clean for a while now, but those scars are permanent. Just like the damage she’s causing to our marriage by the choices she’s making. Before she can escape, I roll over and sit up. She doesn’t notice me right away, so I clear my throat. She jumps, startled, and swivels around. “Chase… you’re awake.” Her striking blue eyes meet mine.

Say Yes To Love (Strong Brothers 1) Read Free *************** Prologue: Kellie Fairy tales do come true. That was the thought that came to mind as I looked out of the window from the five-star Parisian hotel, overlooking the lights of the city, and the Eiffel tower. But not for forever. As magical as this whirlwind trip through Europe had been, it was coming to an end. Tomorrow I’d be heading back to my old life in San Diego, California as the assistant to Ryan Strong. For a moment, I pushed that reality away and reflected on this once in a lifetime experience. Italy. Switzerland. The Netherlands. France. San Diego and California had a great deal of beauty, and even history, but it was nothing like what I saw in all these marvelous countries. The food was delicious. The art was equally as stunning. The pictures in books and on the Internet didn’t do it all justice. But even more glorious was the man that had introduced all this splendor to me. Ryan Strong turned out to be much more than the savvy, focused, driven businessman I’d gotten to know as his assistant. Sure, his money meant he could afford the finer things in life, but he was cultured in other respects beyond his wealth. There was his vast knowledge of history. His appreciation of art. The dedication to his company, which was an extension of his love for his family. And, there was the fact that he was very handsome and sexy beyond words. Long fingers slid over my shoulders, sending a sizzle down my spine. Soft lips brushed along my neck. “Enjoying the view?” his low baritone voice whispered in my ear. “It’s amazing. All this is going to make my tiny apartment back home seem like a cardboard box.” His fingers stopped kneading my shoulders briefly, and then started again. “I ordered in tonight to relax before our flight back tomorrow. But if you’d rather go out—” “No. I want to stay in.” As much as I loved traveling and seeing the sights, the romantic dinners out and the dancing through the streets, on my last night, the only thing I wanted to indulge in was him. I wanted the fantasy for one more night before having to return to my normal life. I turned in his arms, looking up into his stunningly blue eyes and my heart rolled over in my chest, welling with emotion. I was in love with him. In love with my boss. I wondered when it had happened. But more than that, I was already heartbroken because when we returned to San Diego, I’d have to go back to being his assistant. I’d have to pretend not to love him. So, this night was my last time to live in the dream. I lifted up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. “Dessert before dinner?” he murmured against my lips. “Yes. Do you mind?” I knew he didn’t. His erection was making itself known against my belly. “Not at all.” He swept me up into his arms and carried me to the large bed. Yes, this was a fairytale. His lips consumed mine while his fingers unzipped the lovely flowy dress that he’d gotten me. I shucked it off as quickly as I could, gre

Christmas In The City (Imperfect Match 1.50) Read Free *************** 1 Reggie Burnt cheese, hot chocolate, and red wine. These will forever be the scents I associate with Paris. Not the delicious, fresh pastries, boutique perfumes, the stunning architecture currently decorated with Christmas ornaments, garland wrapped around lampposts, cobblestone-lined streets boasting red and green accents, or the dazzling, well-lit boulevards and bridges, railings spun with glittering festive lights. Immerse yourself in the culture, my mother said. Get a part-time job, she lamented. Or my personal favorite: Be one with your surroundings. Despite the ruse—I’m not really studying abroad, although that’s what my mother and friends back home believe—I followed their advice. I found a quaint little studio apartment near Paris Diderot University, at which I’m pretending to study, allowing me to keep up pretenses with frequent selfies taken on campus. I’m really searching for my father, who disappeared from my life years ago, post-IRS investigation. I firmly believe he’s here, in Paris, and I’m determined to find him. In addition to the university ruse, I found a job serving tables at an upscale boulangerie. Employment is actually a necessity so I’m able to afford to live in this very expensive city. It was a corner spot, sandwiched between a Tunisian restaurant and a flower shop bursting with color and vivid scents. The boulangerie was under a Gothic-styled building with wrought iron railings on Juliet balconies, just like you see in the movies. For the first several weeks I indulged in all things bread, cheese, and wine. But after a while, the pungent aroma of burnt cheese, compliments of the ever popular croque monsieur—which is really just a fancy open-faced toasted ham and cheese sandwich—cease to hold their original appeal. It doesn’t help that I’m lactose—and customers—intolerant. I’ve been popping Lactaid pills like a raver pops mollies. As for the customers—I’ve yet to find a cure for them. I sail through the kitchen, the pervasive, overpowering scents of oil, toasted bread, and cooked meat attacking my nostrils. The cacaphony of smells are permanently embedded in my uniform and is nearly impossible to get out of my hair. “Your order for table eleven iz up.” Jacques’ thick French accent, and his tendency to replace the letter “s” with a “z” makes the simple statement sound romantic. Unfortunately, Jacques is anything but. He’s constantly hitting on me, which is awkward, especially since he hits on every single other server—male or female—who works here. He also happens to be in his early fifties, with a serious potbelly, pervy ’stach, and hair growing out of his ears and nose. Seems like no matter where you go in the world, there’s always at least one skeezy guy who works in the kitchen. Even more exciting is the fact that he hits on me in French, and while I’ve been studying the language for several years, textbook French and actual France-French are not

Loving War (Sterling Shore 4) Read Free Tria Noles and Kode Sterling are a match made in hell, and no one will deny that. They’ve hated each other for years. Kode Sterling is the jerk who doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Tria Noles hides under a cold façade to appear strong and confident. There’s no possible way they could be anything together besides a volatile disaster. But when their chemistry overrides their logic, they have no choice but to face their twisted attraction to each other. When that attraction refuses to fade, what started off as physical turns into something neither of them expected — or wanted. Tria has spent most of her life living in her sister’s shadow, and it’s no secret that Kode was once one of the many who adored Rain Noles. It’s hard for her not to keep her guard up, because she doesn’t want to feel overlooked once again. Kode starts to realize he might have been chasing the wrong Noles girl all these years. And there’s a lot he did wrong in the past when chasing Rain that could jeopardize any future he has with Tria. There’s a thin line between love and hate, just as there is a thin line between success and disaster. *************** Chapter 1 KODE Maverick and Corbin are completely wasted, and while I’m entertained, I’m also incredibly annoyed. They’ll end up in jail tonight. No doubt about it. I laugh as one of the girls rolls her eyes and walks away from Maverick after whatever he whispers in her ear. He holds his hands up innocently, seeming genuinely confused by her walk-off response. He recovers quickly and finds a new girl to stalk, so I return to sipping my beer and scanning the scene. I came out tonight to have fun, and all I’ve done is think about Rain being with Dane. I know he’s the one she wants, but it doesn’t make it any easier to fucking swallow. We drove all the way to come to a bar where the women didn’t know the two idiots I call cousins. Their reputations are steadily growing. If they keep screwing over the women in Sterling Shore, not even Rain will be able to save them anymore. Rain. Fuck. I have to stop thinking about her, and everything I think about is somehow tied to her. There’s nothing I can say, do, or even think that doesn’t trigger some sort of connection to the girl I chased for too many years. I need to get drunk. And I need a distraction—a female distraction. Someone who doesn’t look the least little bit like the girl who refuses to leave my dreams. As the beers keep coming, I get a little drunker. The drunker, the better. It’ll numb my mind. My distraction serves itself up on a mouthwatering platter. Dark hair touches a small waist, crossed tan legs are beautifully exposed, and a tight little short dress catches my eyes. That’ll fucking do. She looks to be alone, which is perfect. That means I won’t need a wingman to distract her friend, and I won’t have to deal with some guy she might be with. She’s all the way at the bar, and I’m in the far back. This booth is perfect, because I can

Mistletoe and Fire Glow Read Free A jilted blind date turns into an unexpected chance meeting for Cordi, but when she runs into the same, handsome stranger at her friend’s Christmas party, all bets are off.A sweet, holiday romance full of hope, wonder, and holiday cheer. Follow Cordi as she learns to believe in Christmas miracles when a chance meeting turns into something more.Includes a Spotify holiday playlist to accompany the story. *************** Chapter 1 The smell of spiced cider wafted through the small, sparsely populated and festively decorated diner as a waitress brought over a steaming cup and laid it on the table in front of Cordi. A smile and a nod, and the waitress was off, leaving Cordi to bask in the dim, hanging lights to sip her cider and wait in solitude. What was she waiting for? The more appropriate question was who, though she really couldn’t answer that, either. Her friend, Marta, had insisted she be set up with a guy she knew through her own boyfriend, Jake. Cordi, as usual, had her doubts. She agreed to the date, but she wasn’t getting her hopes up that Graham was going to be anything short of disappointing. Now, there was a word she was used to in the dating department. Disappointment seemed to follow her around like a persistent house fly. She was convinced she was a magnet for guys who still lived at home in their parents’ basements or expected her to pay for dinner. If she met one more guy who ghosted her after only a couple of weeks, she thought she would just give up dating altogether. At thirty-two, who needed it? She watched out the glass door covered in blinking Christmas lights, green garland, and red bows as the agreed meeting time drew closer. The wind howled as it whipped an empty, Styrofoam cup in circles on the sidewalk outside. It sent a chill through Cordi as she looked further past the door and up toward the clouds that held a promise of snow. She cupped her cider in both hands, taking in its warmth as she huddled in her chair. When a guy matching Graham’s description – dark-brown hair, chiseled jaw, and piercing blue eyes – approached the door and entered, Cordi found her hopes rise ever-so-slightly as she waited to see if her assumption was correct. Could this hottie be her date? Her eyes followed him as he stepped inside, paused to look around the empty room, and then turned in her direction drawing closer to her. She was just about to stand and greet him when he took a seat at the table next to hers, effectively quashing the hopes that had involuntarily continued to build. Of course this fine-looking dude wouldn’t be her date. She should be looking for someone a lot less yummy, she had no doubt. It was never her luck to get the guys she was instantly attracted to. She settled back into her chair as she continued to wait, in the meantime watching the hot guy as he shrugged out of his wool coat and gave his order to the lone waitress, black coffee and buttermilk pie. Michael Buble sang Feliz Navidad i

Too Fast to Fall (Jackson Hole 1.10) Read Free *************** CHAPTER ONE THE COP GREW larger in Jenny’s side mirror as he approached, his sunglasses glinting ominous light as she considered whether or not to make a run for it. She might be able to escape. The highway was a nice, straight run here, and a gorgeous 350 V-8 engine purred beneath the hood of her 1978 Camaro, just waiting for her to punch the accelerator. The deputy would have to get all the way back to his SUV before he could even consider chasing her down. By then, she’d be a speck of bright yellow a mile down the asphalt. And hell, with the snow still five feet deep on either side of the road, she could just pull off onto any old trail and he might pass right by her. Jenny flexed her fingers against the thin circle of the steering wheel. She was tempted. She knew how to run. It had always been her first instinct, and she’d pulled it off many times. But as she watched the cop’s hard-hewn jaw begin to tic in anger, she sighed and slumped in her seat. Deputy Hendricks knew very well where she lived. He’d written her address down on three separate speeding tickets, not to mention two terse warnings. “Good Morning, Deputy Hendricks!” she said brightly, as if she weren’t easing her foot from a tempted hover above the gas pedal. He didn’t return her greeting. He didn’t say anything at all. He just…loomed, his sharp cheekbones and hard-edged jaw a warning of danger. His lean body a threat of strength. The mountains looked small behind him. Jenny made a valiant attempt not to squirm. “I thought I had a few more days on my tags.” His hands were loose by his sides in a pose she recognized from the other five times he’d pulled her over. One hand near his gun. One near his baton. He’d never reached for either, thank God, but this time, both his hands spasmed into brief fists before relaxing into readiness again. “End of the month, right?” she squeaked. She’d found him pretty cute on previous stops. Now she only felt nervous. His hands closed one more time, and then he eased them open with deliberate slowness. “Ms. Stone,” he said, grinding out her name. She aimed a big smile up at him, though her lips felt stiff. “That’s me.” “Unfortunately, I’m well aware of that.” “I—” “Just as I assume you’re well aware of why I’ve stopped you today.” “Is it—?” “And no,” he barked. “It has nothing to do with your damn tags.” She flinched at the way his voice filled her car. In response, he cleared his throat and rolled his neck. “Excuse me,” he said in a much quieter tone, though the ends of the words were clipped enough to sound razor-sharp. “While I run your information to see if you’ve acquired any warrants for your arrest since the last time I stopped you.” His heel scraped against the asphalt. Jenny leaned out. “Don’t you need my license and—?” He threw a hand up to stop her words and muttered something she didn’t quite catch. Apparently he had no trouble recalling her name and birth date. “Shit,” she

The Complete Rockstar Series Read Free Meet the men of the internationally famous rock band, Sphere of Irony. From the poor suburbs of London to the outrageous wealth of Los Angeles, Adam, Dax, Gavin, and Hawke, each make their own journey to the bright spotlight of fame. INCITE- Adam & Ellie: Growing up poor in Hackney, Adam only lives for music. Formerly middle class, Ellie is in culture shock at her new, and rough, Hackney school. When Adam saves Ellie from being assaulted by a classmate, they begin the ups and downs of a relationship that spans years and two continents. STRIKE- Dax & Kate: Dax and his brothers are raised to join the family business outside London—illegal underground fighting. Kate is an up and coming soccer star with a massive crush on the unattainable Dax Davies. Dax moves to LA to escape his family and chase his dream of becoming a rock star and Kate moves to LA courtesy of a soccer scholarship to UCLA. The sunshine of southern California would be the perfect backdrop to explore being a couple. Only, fate has something else in mind. RESIST- Gavin & Mitch: (M/M) Take one petulant rockstar, one twitchy ex-FBI agent, throw in a deadly stalker, and watch sparks fly. Gavin Walker has a fan. A dangerous one. Ex-serial killer profiler, Mitch Hale hates spoiled celebrities. When he’s hired to track down whoever is sending ‘gifts’ to the famous bass player, Mitch finds more than just a crazy criminal. WRECK-Hawke & Abby: Hawke Evans is the drummer for the Grammy winning Sphere of Irony. The quiet, tattooed and pierced hottie behind a pair of geek chic glasses is hiding a seriously troubled adrenaline junkie with a death wish. Abby Kessler is studying psychology at UCLA. Her desire to help those fighting mental illness stems from a life-changing incident in her past. They make the worst couple possible, yet the magnetic pull never lessens, not over time, distance, or seemingly unsurmountable obstacles. *************** Book 1 Adam Reynolds wants to make music. It’s his only chance to escape London’s most dangerous borough. Naïve Ellie Palmer moves from a posh flat to the rough side of town. She only has to hear Adam sing once and she knows he’s destined for greatness. When Adam prevents Ellie from becoming the victim of a horrific sexual assault, they discover something that two teenagers never thought they would find in such a depressing place. Each other. ***This is a standalone novel in the Rockstar Series*** ***This book contains graphic abuse, loads of British slang, and a drama that plays out from London to Los Angeles.*** Quotes quotes Music has healing power. It has the ability to take people out of themselves for a few hours. -Elton John One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain. -Bob Marley Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness. -Maya Angelou You didn’t know that I’d never let go. Memories replay in slow motion. Hidden thou

Midnight Blue Read Free It should have been easy.I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death.I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent.The worst part is that I should have known better.Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes.“Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.”Guess what? I didn’t listen.I signed the contract.World tour. Three months. Four Continents. One hundred shows.My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.Problem was, my soul wasn’t enough for Alex Winslow. He ended up taking my body, too.Then he took my heart.Then he took my all.From bestselling author L.J. Shen, comes a new, standalone, contemporary romance. *************** How is your soul feeling today? “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince For Amanda Soderlund and Lin Tahel Cohen Alex Winslow in another meltdown: arrested for DUI and possession of cocaine. By Beth Stevenson, The Daily Gossip British singer Alex Winslow was arrested again Tuesday night for driving under the influence and for possession of cocaine. The twenty-seven-year-old singer had been released from California’s Lost Hill Sheriff’s Station after a night in jail. A night during which, it is alleged, he swung on the bars of his cell and wrote the lyrics to his song “Wild Heaven” on the walls using a blue Sharpie given to him by a smitten station employee (a Sharpie he later used to sign her breasts). As well as getting caught with three grams of cocaine in the glove compartment of his azure vintage Cadillac, the heartthrob is also accused of trying to seduce his way out of trouble when he got pulled over in the early hours on the Pacific Coast Highway cradling a nearly-empty bottle of whiskey. The twelve-time Grammy winner allegedly unleashed his famous, one-hundred-million-dollar smile at the officer on the scene, a forty-three-year-old mother of three, saying, “You really are f***** arresting, love, but I reckon I’ll be the one doing the cuffing tonight.” The “Man Meets Moon” singer infamously got arrested eight weeks ago for punching Steven Delton, owner of the website Simply Steven, and for stealing a Grammy statuette. Winslow stormed onto the stage at the Grammys mid-speech when fellow British singer William Bushell received the Best Album award, plucked the statue from Bushell’s hand, lit a cigarette, and launched into a rant: “Are you having a laugh? Raise your hands if you actually voted for this wanker without getting bribed with a complimentary handjob. Come on. Come. The. Fuck. On. His whole album sounds like background music at McDonald’s. No offense. To McDonald’s, not to Bushell. There wasn’t even one creative track in the entire album. In fact, if creativity met this b

The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3) Read Free Hockey’s bad boy needs to clean up his reputation…Bennett James has built his career at being the best, on and off the ice, and now it’s come back to bite him. The media has turned against him, and with a near career-ending injury, he needs to clean up his act and prove that he’s serious about the game. For Bennett, working with his old coach at his alma mater feels like a step back, but it might be just what he needs.…and she’s going to help him do it.Grace Wentworth has always been the good girl, and she’s tired of that stigma. She wants to prove that she can get down and dirty with the best of them. The problem? She doesn’t know how. Bennett will teach the good girl how to be bad, if she pretends to be his goody two-shoes girlfriend in front of the media.But what happens when the game becomes real? *************** Hockey’s bad boy needs to clean up his reputation… Bennett James has built his career at being the best, on and off the ice, and now it’s come back to bite him. The media has turned against him, and with a near career-ending injury, he needs to clean up his act and prove that he’s serious about the game. For Bennett, working with his old coach at his alma mater feels like a step back, but it might be just what he needs. …and she’s going to help him do it. Grace Wentworth has always been the good girl, and she’s tired of that stigma. She wants to prove that she can get down and dirty with the best of them. The problem? She doesn’t know how. Bennett will teach the good girl how to be bad, if she pretends to be his goody two-shoes girlfriend in front of the media. But what happens when the game becomes real? “You’ve got to get your act together.” I glare at my manager, wishing I could set the fucker on fire with my gaze alone. Bernard Wright might be one of the best sports managers in the business, but he’s also an asshole. I’ve come to learn most people are. “Tell me something I don’t know.” “This—” he shoves a finger onto the front cover of some tabloid “—is unacceptable.” The photo shows me making out with some random puck bunny at a bar. The picture is nothing new. Photographers follow me just about everywhere nowadays, so they’re always catching me doing something they deem scandalous. I call it normal. I’m aware that makes me as much of an asshole as Bernard, but in a different way. “It was just a kiss,” I say. “It’s not like I fucked her right there on the bar. Give me a break. I don’t even remember her name.” Bernard snaps his fingers together. “Exactly, you don’t even know her name. You’re not new to this business, and I know that there’re plenty of other guys out there just like you, but most of them aren’t in your predicament.” He glances down at my casted leg. I try to pretend the cast isn’t there and him drawing attention to it only sours my mood even more. “You’re about five seconds away from losing your career between this injury and your personal life. Hockey should be more import