How do I dominate and enamor the woman who’s in charge of signing my paycheck?
That’s the one question, Joshua Timbers, has been asking himself since he first stepped foot into his own personal Hell. JT, or Yoshi—as his tormentor likes to call him—has lived a life of hardship and loss since an early age. Being the product of a single parent home, he’s accustomed to hard work and lonely nights.
Seeing the strong man that raised him suffer after the loss of his mother made JT’s own heart harden. All that mattered was seeking instant gratification to curve his enormous appetite. Until the blessed day he met his fallen angel, Janelle.
Beautiful, and with balls bigger than her entire crew, Janelle is accustomed to the leering looks of men, even though she’s their boss—the owner of Walker Constructions, alongside her brother.
Her beauty is untouchable to everyone, but how far will Joshua go to bend his hellion to his will and make her his?
If you asked a member of any church today, they’d say it was nightmarish—a dark and gloomy place filled with horrific images and boughs of endless pain. A place where demons roamed freely, feeding off the dregs of the deceased.
A part of humanity that lost its moral compass: the common sinner.
These pour souls sinned in order to achieve greatness; sold their very essence to attain the vanity-filled dreams everyone covets:
Money.
Power.
Respect.
And at the end they’d find themselves with nothing but eternal pain.
Then there were those we called our loved ones. Targeted, they lost the small morsel of their souls that made them good. It made them an easy target.
At the very least, that was what the religious people of the world claimed. Wanted us to believe.
Neither of those descriptions meant shit to me. Religion never mattered much. Not when you’d lost so much and witnessed firsthand just what losing faith did to a person.
I wasn’t most people.
Most had chosen to believe the words drilled into their minds from an early age, but I knew better. Hell wasn’t somewhere dark where the eternal flames glowed and the sinners were condemned to—to pay for the unforgivable deeds of their past life. Acts that were unforgivable in the eyes of the church.
Stealing.
Killing.
Coveting.
In my reality, though, that was a blatant lie.
Hell was here, surrounding us day in and day out. We paid for our sins in life, not death. One way or another, karma would collect those that wronged another. No one, no matter who the fuck they were, could escape this bitch named life.
Problem was that no matter how much I looked at my current situation, I was at a loss. What the fuck had I done to deserve her?
My hell—the one that tortured me while both awake and asleep—wasn’t dark or terrifying. It wasn’t painful in the general sense. Well, that was unless you counted the pain my cock had suffered to be life threatening. I guess it could be considered cruel; she loved to torture me when I couldn’t react or make her pay.
“You are here to work, not fuck me. My pussy’s not on your daily task sheet!”
I’d never been so hard…so fucking swollen, as I’d been in her presence. Twitching and pulsating against the zipper of my Levi’s, I hurt, and she refused to right the wrong she’d created.
“I don’t fuck my employees…not even the promising outline of your big cock will change that.”
You see, my personal hell was all wrapped up in a lustful package. A body created by God himself, made for the sole purpose of fucking up my quiet and ordinary life. This woman brought me down to my knees—demanded that I pay on a daily basis for the lustful thoughts and impulses she, herself, caused.
“Worry about making sure all the drywall on this floor is up; drilling me isn’t on the agenda and never will be.”
And I would gladly repent daily, on my knees at her temple, if she would just give in to me.
My version of hell was a woman. A cock tease.
A woman whose inner and outer beauty surpassed the normal standard society had deemed appropriate. Janelle was a temptress, my personal mistress.
Rendered me incapable of both speech and function at times when all I wanted to do was make her mine. One day Janelle would break me, of that there was no doubt. Problem was that in pushing me past my breaking point, she was losing her power over me and becoming my target. My prey.
When that day came, I would take her without mercy. With no remorse because by then she would be as consumed in her need for me as I was for her.
This woman, angel, or my personal demon, has had my dick hard, leaking and begging for her attention since she first entered my life all those glorious months ago. Now, it was her turn to be miserable.
To feel an eighth of the demands my body made whenever she entered a room. I would make her beg me. Come from a mere look.
Janelle would cry out for me one day, and only then would I gift her my cock.
Her time was up.
I was coming for her.
About the Author:
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E.
Program and write an essay on what they’d learned. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with
hours of pleasure. It wasn’t until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and
letting her characters grow.
The devil sat on my shoulder from my first breath, he watched my every move, and with the first strike of lightnin’ I was pulled under.
Walking into Boondocks the voice of an angel called to me and I vowed to live a better life. She kept me on the righteous path until Satan called one last time.
It was time to take him down or lose my angel forever.
Excerpt
Walker
Watching her place her perfect lips on the side of Logan’s face made me cringe. I know I have no right to feel this way, but those two have something that I can’t quite understand, and I’m jealous. The question is, what do I do about it? As she walks toward me with a huge smile on her face, all my craziness evaporates into the evening sky.
“You ready?” she asks.
“As I’ll ever be,” I reply.
After swinging my leg over my bike, I pass Chauna a helmet, and we put them on together. As she swings her leg over, I hold still and wait for the moment she wraps her arms around me. I take a deep breath as she eases into me and rev the engine to life; all eyes are on us.
“Hold on tight,” I say, and she pulls herself even closer. We take the driveway slow, but when we hit the main road, I pull the throttle and we pick up speed as we make our way toward Sammy’s. As we approach the drive-in, I realize that Chauna is completely right; this place is nothing like it was earlier today. The Sammy’s Drive-In light is lit up like Christmas, and it reminds me of Flo’s Café in the movie Cars. There’s so much neon, and instead of cars, there are monster trucks everywhere. Pulling the bike in, we park, and I look to Chauna for direction as country music plays in the background.
“Welcome to Barber. Where the trucks are hot, but the girls are hotter,” she says with pure sexiness. In this moment, I know that this is just the beginning of an epic, new chapter in my life.
About the Author:
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Growing up Casey wasn’t an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks’ novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives.
When Casey isn’t writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Homeschooled and under the stifling grip of an overprotective father, Talia Fielding’s life is pretty miserable. Playing her beloved ukulele and writing songs is as close as she comes to having fun. But that all changes on the night of her eighteenth birthday. She’s invited to her first party where she learns two things: girls can be very, very mean and Griffin Stanford kisses better than any fantasy she’s ever had. To most of his friends, Griffin Stanford is the handsome football star. However, under those good looks lies the heart of a geek. His passion for numbers has ensured him a life changing job straight out of college. The contract he’s signed has him boarding a plane to halfway around the world the morning after he meets the girl of his dreams. The obsessive draw Griffin feels toward Talia has him questioning his life’s choices. One night, one kiss and Griffin knows this may be his one and only chance to capture the perfect girl… How can he stop her from slipping through his fingers when the world seems determined to keep these two virgins apart?
Author Note: These two fall in love instantly. If you’re looking for a filthy fantasy fix complete with a Dani-style dirty talking hero topped with heaping helpings of swoony romance, you’re in the right place. This is a standalone novella, with Kindle melting heat, safe, no cheating and filled with virgins who magically know exactly what they’re doing from the very first kiss.
I’ve lost the power of speech. She’s wearing that gorgeous little daisy-yellow nightgown dress I sent her a few weeks ago. The soft light from behind her highlighting every contour and line of her lush body. A body that will soon be under my tongue and in my hands. I never dreamed I would see her like this, like she is right now. But here she is, and it’s glorious. I can see all her curves, the pink circles of her nipples pressing through and she’s not doing anything to cover herself. I’ve just won the lotto and a Nobel prize, and whatever trophy they hand out when you come first in life. “What are you doing opening the door wearing that, baby?” I’m not sure if I’m raging mad about it or just about as thrilled as any virgin ever was. My cock is about to snap in half, curved up and around where he can’t escape because my belt is holding his greedy, cum-dripping self in place. “I mean,” I shake my head and rub my hands over my face trying to reset, “I’m sorry. You are fucking stunning beyond words, but, baby, what if it wasn’t me?” As happy as I am to see her, the jealous beast in me lights up, the thought of another man seeing what’s mine has me off my nut. “I only opened the door after I saw who it was. I peeked through the peephole first. It’s a sign, I know it is. I just tried this on for the first time and here you are. Here you are, I can’t believe it.” She does this little bunny hop and I don’t miss how her full tits bounce and move with her, making my dick drip into my pants. I am fairly sure I could watch that little move for the rest of my life and never, ever get tired of it.
Her hands pull at the long tendrils of hair hanging over her shoulders and I realize I haven’t kissed her yet, so I remedy that right away. My arms pull her to me, sweep up and down her back, up and down the soft fabric that covers her equally soft body, as my lips mount hers. I kiss her with the force of a man here to finally claim what is his, letting her know I’m here and she’s mine. After a long kiss, I lean back to drink her in. “I love that you are wearing this. It means a lot to me.” I hook my thumbs into the ruffle around the neckline and trace it up and down, my vision drifting down to where it scoops low, barely covering her ample tits and I want them in my mouth so badly it hurts. “You must be hungry after your trip.” Her voice flutters around my head, soft and like a dove, not quite ready to fly away. Her breath between the words tells me I’m distracting her and I love that. I bring a hand up to comb my fingers through her hair. I’ve dreamed of how it would feel for so long. Silk is like twine compared with its softness. The black strands fall between my fingers and I’m hypnotized by the sight and feel of it. It’s so real and I’m so fucking gone. I taste her lips again with a quick kiss, then put my mouth next to her ear. “I’m hungry for one thing, and one thing only right now. That’s you, Wildflower, my mouth between your legs. I told you, that’s the first thing I want to do to you. I want to taste your first orgasm. I want to remember it forever.”
Dani Wyattloves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers groupfor updates, free chapters and discounts.
She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.
When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
*****Un éxito de ventas de NY Times y de USA Today****
SINOPSIS
La Obsesión del Multimillonario, que antes era una trilogía, se completa ahora con una historia adicional en
esta colección completa sobre Simon y Kara.
La colección completa de La Obsesión del Multimillonario incluye:
Mía Por Esta Noche Mía Por Ahora Mía Para Siempre Mía Por Completo
Corazón de Multimillonario ~ La historia de Sam y Maddie y La Salvación del Multimillonario~La historia de Max y Mia ya están disponibles en Amazon.
Kara Foster, estudiante de Enfermería y camarera a jornada completa que pasa una mala racha, recibe un duro golpe a su situación económica, ya desesperada, que con toda seguridad la dejará viviendo en la calle. Kara necesitará nada menos que un milagro para salvarse y es rescatada por alguien desconocido, improbable y abrumador. El multimillonario Simon Hudson le hace una oferta imposible de rechazar, pero le aterra aceptar algo así de un hombre al que no ha visto nunca. ¿Será el macho alfa, guapo y multimillonario la verdadera solución a sus problemas, o terminará convirtiéndose en una complicación y un riesgo para su salud emocional?
El multimillonario solitario Simon Hudson preferiría pasar el tiempo delante de un ordenador creando videojuegos que codeándose con la élite. Sabe exactamente lo que quiere hasta que conoce a Kara Foster. Algo en ella le llega de un manera que no ha experimentado nunca, y no le gusta nada. Durante más de un año, Simon vigila a Kara, pero se niega obstinadamente a reconocer su deseo de poseerla, ni siquiera a sí mismo. Pero cuando ella se ve en una situación que bien podría acabar con su vida, Simon se ofrece a ayudarla, sin percatarse de que al salvar a Kara, podría estar salvando su propia alma.
(Esta novela es un romance erótico. Contiene lenguaje gráfico, escenas amorosas muy tórridas y muchas emociones).
Sam y Maddie ya están aquí!!! El multimillonario Sam Hudson ha vivido su vida sin excusas pues trata de nunca hacer algo de lo que se pueda arrepentir….con la excepción de lo que le hizo en el pasado a la Dra. Madeline Reynolds.
Después de muchos años de arrepentimientos, Sam se encuentra de casualidad con Maddie; su hermano Simon se va a casar con la mejor amiga de Maddie y los dos se ven forzados a ser cordiales. Pero Sam quiere ser más que educado, y quiere otra oportunidad para limar asperezas y arreglar las cosas, así que le ofrece a Maddie una atrevida propuesta, una oferta que ella encontrará difícil de rechazar por más que lo odie.
La Dra. Madeline Reynolds adora a su mejor amiga Kara y a su prometido Simon, pero el verse forzada a estar en compañía de Sam Hudson únicamente por que los dos estarán en la boda de Simon y Kara, es un suplicio. Lleva años odiando a Sam, pero cuando este le ofrece un trato, algo que está muy cercano a su corazón, se debate entre su desdén hacia el hombre que tanto le disgusta, y algo que desesperadamente ha querido siempre. Ya una vez, Sam casi la destruye, pero Maddie descubre que a veces las cosas no son como parecen ser. Podrá ser Sam un astuto rompecorazones, o existe algo más debajo de su apariencia?
Podrán dos personas con tantos años de resentimiento entre ellos aprender a volver a confiar el uno al otro?.
Tenga en cuenta: Este es un romance tórrido y no es apropiado para lectores adolescentes. El libro contiene escenas de amor ardientes, situaciones y lenguaje que no son aptos para lectores adolescentes.
El multimillonario Max Hamilton pensaba que por fin había empezado a sobreponerse, dos años después de que su esposa, Mia, muriera ahogada en el mar.
Había encontrado una hermana de la que no conocía su existencia. Por fin, tenía de nuevo una familia, un paliativo al dolor y la soledad que lo había acompañado desde su trágica pérdida. Sí, se sentía tan feliz como se podía esperar de un hombre que había perdido la mitad de su alma y casi la totalidad de su corazón cuando el destino le arrebató a su mujer.
O así lo creía… hasta que un día auxilió a una misteriosa mujer en el parque, una mujer que hizo revivir algo que él creía muerto desde hacía mucho tiempo.
De repente, su instinto de macho protector, dominante y posesivo volvió a despertar, sin entender cómo era posible que una misma pasión pudiera sentirse por segunda vez. ¿De verdad le daba la vida otra oportunidad de ser feliz o solo jugaba con él?
Descúbralo leyendo “La salvación del multimillonario”, Volumen 3 de la serie “La obsesión del multimillonario”, best selling serie en la lista del New York Times. El volumen es una novela de romance erótica, contemporánea… ¡Completa!
Nota de la autora: Aunque esta serie está ligeramente relacionada con la serie La obsesión del multimillonario, se sostiene por sí misma y puede empezarse sin leer la serie La obsesión del multimillonario. Sin embargo, habla de un romance tórrido con un millonario alfa, así que sálteselo si no le gustan el romance erótico ni el lenguaje explícito.
La historia de Trace y Eva:
Me llamo Eva Morales, y estaba a un paso de quedarme de patitas en la calle cuando Trace Walker entró en mi vida. Quiero odiarle debido a mi pasado, pero en lugar de eso acabaré haciendo un pacto con el diablo con el joven y arrogante millonario. En realidad, no tengo opción. Es aceptar el trabajo que me ofrece o pasar hambre, y ya he pasado hambre durante bastante tiempo.
No pensaba que ser su prometida falsa durante las vacaciones fuera a ser un trabajo difícil, pero resultará ser más complicado de lo que jamás podría imaginar, y veré una cara completamente nueva de Trace una vez que baje la guardia. Su pasado lo acecha, igual que el mío, pero hay cosas que no puedo contarle nunca, secretos que no me atrevo a revelar.
Finalmente, me encontraré en una situación difícil debido a nuestra mutua atracción volátil que no se puede negar. ¿Debería decirle la verdad o terminar el trabajo por el que me paga y alejarme con mis secretos todavía ocultos y mi orgullo intacto? Me pagará bastante por este trabajo como para cuidar de mí misma una vez que haya terminado. Siempre he estado sola, y siempre creí que lo prefería hasta que… hasta que conocí a Trace. Tendría que arriesgarlo todo para ser sincera con él, pero podría ser el primer hombre por el que merece la pena correr ese riesgo. Francamente, pondría en peligro algo más que mi orgullo. Podría soportar sentirme como una perdedora, porque me he sentido más o menos así durante toda mi vida. Lo que me aterra realmente es ser vulnerable y la posibilidad de terminar con el corazón destrozado…
J.S Scottes una de las autoras más vendidas de novelas de romance eróticas. Aunque es una lectora ávida de todo tipo de literatura, escribe lo que más le gusta leer. J.S. Scott escribe historias eróticas de romance, tanto contemporáneas como paranormales. En su mayoría, el protagonista es un varón alfa y todas terminan con un final feliz porque no parece que la autora esté dispuesta a terminarlas de otra manera. Jan vive en las hermosas montañas rocallosas con su esposo y sus muy consentidos pastores alemanes
Title: Crossover
Series: Prequel: Devil’s Due MC & Vipers Creed MC
Author: Chelsea Camaron & Ryan Michele
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: October 25, 2016
Two motorcycle clubs, two different reasons for being, and one lifestyle find each other together. – Devil’s Due MC –
Respect is earned, never freely given.
Our road is a path for justice. Nomads always on the open highway, we follow the trail, no matter where it leads, everyone be damned.
– Vipers Creed MC –
Respect is hard earned. Live by the creed, die by the creed. If you aren’t with us, you’re against us. If you step into our world, your balls better be big and your cock even bigger. Brothers, bikes, and bitches collide. Respect is everything.
When two clubs cross over into each other’s worlds, only madness, mayhem, vengeance, and heat can possibly ensue.
USA Today bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She’s a wife and mom, chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write about blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.
Ryan Michele found her passion in making fictional characters come to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible and has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.
She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and many more romances. And whether it’s bikers, wolf shifters, mafia, or beyond, Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.
When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.
“This book owned me as I turned page after page, wanting to both savor every beautifully written word and race to the end. Black Swan Affair is easily one of my top reads of the year.” – USA Today Bestselling Author, Meghan March
The gangly boy with big brown eyes and unruly hair who grew up into an intoxicating man. He wears scruff like he invented it and ambles with a swagger that makes panties drop.
Killian Shepard.
Shep.
We grew up together. We played Ghost in the Graveyard. Had our own rock band. It didn’t matter that he was five years older than me. It didn’t matter that he looked at me as a kid sister even as I grew into a woman. It didn’t even matter when he left me behind to go to college and start his adult life.
He’d be back.
He was always meant to be mine.
He came back, all right. But instead of smelling of promises, he stunk of betrayal. And he destroyed me—us—the day he married my sister instead of me.
So I did the only thing a girl like me in my position could do.
“OMG what did I just read? This book… WOW!! It’s been years since I read a book straight through. Yes, seven hours I was glued to the pages of this book. A yo-yo of emotions that left me breathless with every scene. Black Swan Affair is a must read!!” – NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author Nashoda Rose
“Black Swan Affair is intense, mesmerizing, a gripping page-turner that had me guessing until the very end! A top 2016 read!” – Anne Mercier, Bestselling Author
“Simply Amazing. KL had me from page one and I had to pry my fingers off my Kindle when it was over.” – Winter Travers, Amazon Bestselling Author of The Devil’s Knights Series and The Skid Row Kings Series
BLP REVIEW ~ Rebecca
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About the Author:
I’m just a regular ol’ Midwest girl who likes Game of Thrones and am obsessed with Modern Family and The Goldbergs. I run, I eat, I run, I eat. It’s a vicous cycle. I love carbs, but there’s love-hate relationship with my ass and thighs. Mostly hate. I like a good cocktail (oh hell…who am I kidding? I love any cocktail). I’m a huge creature of habit, but I’ll tell you I’m flexible. I read every single day and if I don’t get a chance…watch the hell out, I’m a raving bitch. My iPad and me: BFFs. I’m direct and I make no apologies for it. I swear too much. I love alternative music and in my next life I want to be a bad-ass female rocker. I hate, hate, hate spiders, telemarketers, liver, acne, winter and loose hairs that fall down my shirt (don’t ask, it’s a thing).
Ophelia Lang needs money, and she needs it bad. Her parent’s restaurant is going under, and ever since she lost her job teaching third grade elementary, scraping enough cash together to pay the bills has proven almost impossible. Her parents are on the brink of losing their home. The vultures are circling overhead. So when Ophelia is offered an interview for a well-paid private tutoring gig in New York, how can she possibly say no?
Ronan Fletcher is far from the overweight, balding businessman Ophelia expected him to be. He’s young, handsome, and wealthy beyond all reason. He’s also perhaps the coldest, rudest person she’s ever met, and has a mean streak in him a mile and a half wide. A hundred grand is a lot of money, however, and if tolerating his frosty temperament, his erratic mood swings and whatever else he throws at her means she’ll get paid, then that is what Ophelia will do.
Her new boss is keeping secrets, though. Awful, terrible secrets.
The ghosts of Ronan Fletcher’s past are about to turn Ophelia’s future upside down, and she can’t even see it coming.
Note: Between Here and The Horizon is a brand new standalone contemporary romance novel from USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hart. Between Here and the Horizon does contain some scenes of violence and sexual content, and so is directed at audience 18+.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
AFGHANISTAN
2009
“Get back, Fletcher! Get back! The tank’s gonna blow!”
I was running. Behind me, seven miles of desert stretched out toward Kabul city, glowing in places where burned out military trucks were being devoured by fire. Twisted metal rained down from the sky, on fire and sharper than a razor’s edge, impacting in the dirt. Thud. Thud, thud.Thud. Shrapnel whistled through the air, striking the ground a few feet away from me as I weaved my way through the wreckage. Smoke was biting at my lungs, acrid and burning, making it hard to breath.
“Fletcher! What the fuck, man!”
Behind me, Specialist Crowe was losing his mind. Alternating between shouting into his radio and shouting at me, he couldn’t seem to decide which course of action to take. I’d ordered him to follow, but I could understand why he hadn’t. The situation was more than unsafe; charging headlong into the fire and destruction was a suicide mission, and I knew it. I also knew that my men were trapped inside the upturned vehicle still a hundred feet ahead of me, however, and I knew the truck was going to blow any second. They were going to burn to death if I didn’t help them. I wasn’t going to abandon them to that fate.
“Captain! God, man, stop!”
My heart was surging, my veins overflowing with adrenalin. My boots hit the dirt, left, right, left, right, left, right, my fists pumping back and forth as I sprinted toward the truck that was laying on its roof up ahead. Through the fractured windshield, I could see Hellaman and Wicks still strapped into the front seats of the vehicle, upside down and unmoving. They were either unconscious or dead. Hopefully they were just out for the count, but there was a lot of blood splattered on the inside of the glass. A lot of blood.
Black smoke curled upward from the underside of the truck, and I could already hear the hissing sound of fuel burning and sizzling somewhere. Groaning. I could hear groaning, too.
I reached the truck just as something inside the engine caught fire, and Hellaman came to. His eyes were wide with pain and fear as I dropped down onto my belly next to the driver’s side window, which was smashed out, small cubes of safety glass scattered into the dirt.
“Captain? Captain Fletcher. Shit, I can’t breathe. I can’t…breathe.” His face was deathly pale, and his hands shook violently as he tried to claw at the seatbelt that was digging into his chest.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Private. We’re gonna get you out of there, okay? Just hold on a moment.” My bowie knife was in my hand. I took it and made quick work of slashing through the webbing holding Hellaman in place. There was nothing I could do to cushion his fall. Slamming into the roof of the truck, Hellaman groaned weakly, and then passed out again, either from pain or from the shock, I didn’t know. I stowed my blade and grabbed him by the shoulders, then wrestled him free through the window. His face was cut; his arms were striped with blood and running rivers of crimson out onto the ground. No time to be gentle, though. No time to be safe. I hooked my hands under his arms and I quickly jogged backwards, dragging him away from the wreckage. Twenty feet was enough.
I ran back to the truck. Flames were visibly licking at the underside of the vehicle now, snaking upward toward the night sky. Wick was still out cold. I ran around to the back of the truck and tried to force the loading doors open, but they were jammed closed, bent and warped, refusing to budge.
“Shit.”
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
There was someone alive inside. Running out of time. Almost no time left. I positioned myself by the truck’s rear right window, thanking god the thing was already splintered. The bulletproof windows on military trucks were no joke. You could take a semi automatic to them and it would take longer than I had to smash them. The impact of rolling three times had obviously been enough to compromise the glass, though.
“Shield your faces,” I hollered. “Glass, glass, glass!” Bracing, I spun around and smashed the sole of my boot against the window as hard as I possibly could. The glass groaned, fracturing some more, but it didn’t shatter. I kicked again, and again, and again. Finally, the window exploded in a shower of bright shards, giving in under the force of my boot.
“Captain, there’s fuel in here,” someone inside yelled. “Get back!”
I ducked down and lay flat on my stomach again, crawling in through the now empty window frame. Inside the truck, gasoline hung heavy in the air, burning my nostrils and my eyes. Next to me, Roberts was dead, his head twisted at an odd angle, eyes staring, unseeing into the abyss.
On the other side of the truck Private Coleridge, Sam, a nineteen-year-old kid from Houston, was lying on his back on the roof, holding his rifle in both hands, his body convulsing wildly. His eyes swivelled to look at me, but his head remained locked in position, his teeth grinding together.
“What…what happened, Capt’n?” he asked. “We were drivin’ along, and then…everything was…spinning.”
“IED,” I told him. “Desert’s full of them. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
“I can’t…move. I can’t feel…anything.”
He wasn’t paralyzed. If he were, he wouldn’t be shaking the way he was right now. He was just in shock. A sharp slap to the face would probably go a long way to getting him moving, but there simply wasn’t time for that kind of motivation. Grabbing him by the webbing stitched onto the strap of his pack, which was still on his back, I hauled him to me and then backed out through the window as quickly as I could. The fire was raging now. I dragged Sam back to where I’d left Hellaman and was about to run back to the truck when a loud metallic crack split the air apart, and then a ball of fire rocked the truck, a wall of heat and pressure slamming into my body, sending me reeling back into the dirt.
“Oscar!” Sam yelled. “Oscar’s still alive in there!”
“Fuck.” I was up on my feet and running. The heat was intense—so intense that I had to shield my face as I grew closer to the wreck. The fire had consumed the underside of the truck, the tires blazing, the gas roaring as the fuel line was engulfed. And I could hear screaming. The kind of blood curdling, awful screaming of a man being burned alive.
My radio headset crackled with static, and then Colonel Whitlock’s voice barked out through the speaker. “Fletcher, do not go back inside that vehicle. Do you hear me? Do not go back inside that vehicle.”
Disobeying a direct order from a colonel was an offence worthy of court marshal. I ripped my headset from my ears and threw it to the ground, ignoring it. Ignoring the consequences. Another blood curdling scream reached me, and that was it. I was on my stomach, crawling into the mouth of hell.
My side pressed up against the frame of the window, and pain tore at me, sinking its teeth into my skin. Heat. The heat was overwhelming, so fierce and violent that there was no oxygen inside the truck. Only smoke and confusion. Only death.
“Oscar!” I called out, reaching with both hands, trying to find him. “Where are you, man?” The truck was only a six-guy transport, but the billowing, rolling clouds of black smoke hid everything. I went by touch until I heard him cry out again, weaker this time, voice riddled with agony. He was at the very rear of the truck. A few seconds was all I had. Any longer and I would either suffocate or burn up myself. My head was pounding, my lungs begging for clean air, and I could feel myself start to drift.
The journey to the back of the truck took an eternity. One hand over the other, I pulled myself around an upturned transport box, and jammed my body in between the narrow gap at the right hand side of the vehicle, reaching out, groping, searching, until I found what I was looking for. A leg. A foot, to be precise. I grabbed hold of it and pulled. An agonised yell filled the truck.
“Ahh, my leg. My leg. It’s fucked!”
“I know. I’m sorry, man. I can’t get you any other way.” I gritted my teeth, and I pulled. In any other situation it would have been a crime that I was handling an injured man this way. The clock was running down, though, and if causing more pain, causing even more damage meant the difference between one of my guys being injured or being dead, then I was going to do what I had to do.
I somehow managed to maneuverer myself so that I was over Oscar—I couldn’t even see his face, the smoke was so thick—and then I started shoving. Six hard pushes and I managed to drive him through the gap in the window frame, out onto the desert floor. His body was ripped away, pulled free by someone else, and then he was gone. I was almost too tired to heave myself free, but I scrounged up my last scrap of energy and I crawled forward, determined to make it out before the entire vehicle was enveloped. Halfway out, my fingers clawing in the dirt, my body lit up with pain. Indescribable. Unbearable. A pain so sharp and breathtaking that I couldn’t even cry out. It felt like something was ripping my body in two. I spun around and looked up to see a burning line of fuel pouring down on me, hitting my side, burning into me. I was on fire.
I kicked and jerked myself out of the truck, ripping at my jacket. Tearing at the material, trying to get it off. The fabric seemed to come away in my hands, and then I was shirtless in the cold, cold desert, rolling on the ground, trying to put the flames out.
The world went black. Someone threw something over me, and then hands were beating at my body, slapping and trying to roll me. A strangled gasp worked its way out of my mouth, but that’s all I could manage. The flames were out. The thick, heavy material that had been thrown over me was pulled back, and Crowe stood over me, face covered in soot and grease, eyes the size of dollar coins. I could barely see him properly. Barely hear the words coming out of his mouth.
Colonel Whitlock appeared next to him, and then the sky was filled with the beating thump of helicopter blades. They spoke for a second, and the thundering drum of the helo overhead dipped long enough for me to make out what Crowe said to Whitlock.
“He didn’t stop, sir. He didn’t stop until they were all out.”
Whitlock scowled. “I can see that, Specialist. He disobeyed a direct order in doing so, too.”
“He’ll be reprimanded?” Crowe asked. He was speaking as if I was no longer present; both of them were.
“No,” Whitlock said sternly. “Ironically, I think Captain Fletcher’s more likely to be honored than punished in this particular instance. Now get him on the chopper before I change my mind. The crazy bastard’s bleeding everywhere.”
Calliehas experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and moulding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.
Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.
Callie Hart is the author of the Blood & Roses Series. Zeth & Sloane’s story is now complete, but there are a number of stories still to be released under the Blood & Roses banner. 2015 will see Cade, Michael and Rebel’s stories being released, as well as a number of brand new stories, all of which will be Dark Romance novels.
If you would like to contact Callie, you can do so here.
If you would like to sign up to Callie’s newsletter for info on upcoming releases, exclusive teasers, excerpts and competitions, you can do so here.
Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.
He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.
Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.
Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.
And their deaths.
For most people, death is the end of their story.
For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.
**This is the fifth book in the King Series and it’s meant to be read after Soulless.
About the Author:
T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR best known for her KING SERIES. She was born on Long Island, NY. When she was eight years old she moved with her mom, dad, and older sister to sunny Southwest Florida where she still lives today with her husband and daughter.
When she was in middle school she was in a club called AUTHORS CLUB with a group of other young girls interested in creative writing. Little did she know that years later life would come full circle.
After graduating high school, she attended Florida Gulf Coast University and had every intention of becoming a news reporter when she got sucked into real estate where she worked in sales for over ten years.
Throughout the years T.M. never gave up the dream of writing and with her husband’s encouragement, and a lot of sleepless nights, she realized her dream and released her first novel, The Dark Light of Day, in 2013.
Become Enchanted, Haunted, and Hunted this Halloween.
12 NYT, USA Today, and International Best Selling Authors, bring you brand-new, paranormal shifter romances that are sure to make this a Shifters Hallows Eve you’ll never forget!
Being a lover of PNR, Shifters Hallows Evewas a definite ‘gotta read’ for me.
I’ve read books by a couple of the authors but for the most part, the stories were by ‘new to me writers’ and I have to say that following this introduction to their work I’ll without doubt be checking out more of their books.
The list of stories included in the anthology: The Tiger’s Bride by R.E. Butler Mate Hunt by Sydney Lea Haunted by Love by Lori King Joker’s Trick or Treat by Audra Hart The Haunted Mate by Bryce Evans Hunter’s Mark by Melissa Snark Tears for Her Dragon by Julia Mills Dark Lovers by Elle Boon Once Upon a Hallow’s Eve by KD Jones The Wolf’s Ghost by Bethany Shaw The Valley of the Shadows Hallowed Destiny by Candace Blevins
This was a great mix of tales featuring shifters, vampires, witches, ghosts and zombies (yep, you heard that correctly….. zombies!!). If you are a paranormal fan, this set of stories will most certainly hit the mark and makes for a fun, hot, entertaining read.
From the USA Today Bestselling author of Magnificent Bastard comes a sexy, flirty, dirty standalone…on ice.
They say Jake “The Dragon” Falcone earned his nickname by setting fire to the ice his first season in the NHL. But just between us ladies, I’m pretty sure he earned it for the dragon in his pants.
Lord have f*cking mercy, but the man’s been given a gift. (And I’ve heard he knows exactly how to use it.) From my first hug as his fake girlfriend, it’s clear he’s packing below the belt. After a few fake dates I realize he’s packing…everywhere.
Heart, brains, sex-vibe, and the ability to make me laugh so hard I almost pee my pants—Jake is everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.
He’s also my client and OFF LIMITS. Oh, and he has an ex who’s completely crazy and out for my blood.
I should steer clear, and I would, if my dragon weren’t so completely incredible…
***
The name sounded like a joke. Who in his right mind wants a “Miraculous Mess” running damage control on his f*cked up love life?
Well…me, it turns out.
By the time I leave her apartment on day one, I’m halfway gone on Shane “Miraculous Mess” Willoughby. By the end of our first date, I know my life won’t be complete until I’ve had this beautiful, sexy, perfectly wild woman in every filthy way I’ve imagined since our first kiss.
I want her, all of her, from the smart mouth that makes me smile to the wounded heart I know I can heal. If she’ll let me.
Can a Madison Avenue princess and a dragon from the wrong side of the tracks live happily ever after?
If I have my way, the world is about to find out.
Warning: Incredible You is a sexy, standalone romantic comedy told from BOTH the hero and the heroine’s point of view. No cliffhanger. Lots of hot steamy sexy times, laugh out loud textual healing, and an aw-out-loud happily ever after.
EXCERPT:
“You’re not a klutz,” I say, guiding her closer. “I love the way you move.”
“Yeah?” She bites her lip, bringing to mind that list of bitable body parts I hope to be getting from her later.
“Yeah,” I say, my gaze fixed on her sexy mouth. “I could watch you walk across a room all day long. Just the way your hips shift beneath your clothes drives me crazy.”
“Real life crazy,” she says softly.
“Real life crazy,” I confirm. “So crazy that on the way up in that elevator, it was all I could do not to flip the emergency switch.”
Her lashes sweep down and back up, heat flickering in her eyes. “And what would you have done after you flipped the switch, dragon?”
“I would have kissed you, princess.” I don’t bother to hide the hunger in my voice. “I would have pushed you up against the wall and kissed every part of you not covered by that sexy as fuck dress. And then I would have gone after the covered parts, just to see how far you would let me go before you told me to stop.”
“And what if I didn’t tell you to stop?” Her tongue sweeps across her lips and my cock jerks hard in my pants, losing the battle against what this woman does to me.
“Then I guess our first time would have been in an elevator.” I pull her closer, jaw clenching as her stomach presses against where I’m hard enough to slay dragons with my cock.
“Good God,” she mutters, her breath rushing out with this sexy little moan that destroys the last of my self-restraint.
“I would have had you up against the wall,” I say, speaking low so my words are for her and no one else. “But first, I would have made you come, princess. On my fingers, my mouth, my tongue. I’ve been dreaming about fucking you with my tongue since I left your apartment that first afternoon.”
“Me, too,” she whispers, arching closer. “But you have to stop.”
“No, I wouldn’t have stopped,” I promise, deliberately misunderstanding her, because I need to make that blush staining her cheeks spread across her entire body. “I wouldn’t have stopped until you were completely fucking useless, Willoughby. Until you’d come so hard your knees were weak and I had to carry you out of the elevator.”
“Jake, I—”
“But I wouldn’t have carried you into the party,” I push on. “I would have hit the ground floor button, carried your fine ass straight into a cab, and told the driver to break every traffic law required to get us to my place in five minutes. Because I wouldn’t have been able to wait more than five minutes to have you, to be inside of you.”
She trembles against me as her forehead falls to rest against my shoulder. “This is so wrong. So wrong.”
“No, it’s not,” I insist. “It’s the rightest thing I’ve felt in so damned long. And as long as you want me, too, I don’t—”
“Oh, I do.” Her words send a fierce wave of relief rushing through me. “I want you, Jake. I want you so much I can barely think of anything else.”
“And I want you. I want to be inside you so fucking bad, princess,” I whisper, my balls aching miserably between my legs. “I want to feel you come on me. I want you naked and wet and—”
“Screw the pictures.” Her breath rushes out as she grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me to a stop at the edge of the dance floor, her eyes hungry and wild. “I need to be alone with you, Falcone. Right fucking now.”
And that’s all I fucking need to hear.
Without another word, I wrap my arm around her waist and aim us both toward the cocktail lounge.
Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.
These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
J.S Scott es una de las autoras más vendidas de novelas de romance eróticas. Aunque es una lectora ávida de todo tipo de literatura, escribe lo que más le gusta leer. J.S. Scott escribe historias eróticas de romance, tanto contemporáneas como paranormales. En su mayoría, el protagonista es un varón alfa y todas terminan con un final feliz porque no parece que la autora esté dispuesta a terminarlas de otra manera. 
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