Sergeant Jeremiah Abbner died in the line of duty serving his country. Or at least that’s what the newspapers said…
The US Government handed him a new identity, and strict orders not to make contact with anyone from his past. As far as society was concerned Sergeant Jeremiah Abbner was dead, and buried six feet under.
Not having contact with his ex-wife would be easy. She was a manipulator and a cheater.
Not seeing his daughter on the other hand would devastate him…
Beau Morgan, aka Jeremiah, settles down in a town far away from everything he’s ever known. Coping with the trauma he’s experienced and discovering a new life Beau finds himself the most aggressive he’s ever been. His blood simmers with rage while his fists are thirsty to let it all out .
In the middle of his own living hell he never expected to run into an old familiar face. And to top it off, one who recognized him as Jeremiah.
He’s vowed never to love again, but as circumstances land him in the arms of a woman, Jenni Lee, this time he may not have a choice, as she rarely takes no for an answer.
Can Beau Morgan control his temper long enough to settle into his new life? Or will resentment taint him forever?
Author Bio:
I am an independent author excited about releasing my first novel very soon. A big dream coming true!!! I’m all country…the kinda country where green grass grows and corn pops up in rows….love Miranda and her bad ass music!!! Just a simple country girl getting one story out of her head at a time…I always fall hard for a trucker style hat…especially if it’s a John Deere hat….loves me a good ol’ farm boy!!!!!!
***Introductory Price $2.99***
WARNING: This book is not suitable for children under the age of seventeen due to language, sexual content, and intense subject matter.
In this Brotherhood you live or die by the three-piece patch. For Hold Dawson, Vice-President of the Hells Highwaymen Motorcycle Club, it’s not just black ink tattooed on his body, but the religion he worships, and the law that governs his life. Nothing else matters. Family by choice and not by blood. More sacred than a shared name. Bound by respect. Loyal to death.
Unity. Respect.
Love. Devotion.
Forever.
But there’s another side to this life. One the President, Hold’s own father, lives and regulates by.
He watched her slender artist’s hand caress her taut, tattooed abdomen, instantly jealous that it wasn’t his own blunt fingers that idly drifted across her silky flesh. Her eyes flickered with awareness to where he stood at the end of the bed watching her. It only made his balls draw up tight. His rock-hard erection jutted outward, thick and long. He couldn’t halt his hand from massaging it with slow, steady jerks. His teeth burrowed painfully into his bottom lip. – Hell’s Ink
***This novel is not a cliffhanger and can be read as a standalone.***
WARNING: This book is real, beautifully raw, and not for the faint of heart. It is the story of a young girl’s loss of innocence while growing up around a motorcycle club. It is not suitable for children under the age of seventeen due to language, sexual content, and intense subject matter. Based on true events.
Family.
I have tattooed that single word on more skin than I care to count. It elicits powerful thoughts and emotions for most people.
Loving. Caring.
Supportive. Togetherness.
Forever.
But not for me. The word family means so much more.
Vicious. Harmful.
Dangerous. Corrupt.
Deadly.
You can’t run forever from the ones who love you.
About Nicole Reed
Nicole Reed is the New York Times Bestselling Author of Ruining You. She is a true Southern girl, enjoying life with her husband and three children in the peachy state of Georgia. As a child, she discovered another world between the pages of a book and that has lead to her dream job as a writer. In 2012, she self-published her first book Ruining Me, and then followed it with Ruining You, Cake, and Wasted Heart. Her books have also been listed on the overall Top 100 Amazon and Barnes & Noble Bestselling list. She is represented by Ginger Clark with Curtis Brown, LTD.
Imagine being in love with the same girl since you were ten years old, only to have her fall for your twin instead. This story is rocky.
It will rip you apart and possibly put you back together again.
I know this because it’s my story.
The pain and anguish experienced in this is what it was like to hold onto hope that some day we’d find each other again. I won’t sugar coat the details of what I went through to have her, nor will I apologize for any actions that led me right back into her life.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes it takes a little fate.
Get the beginning of the story with Love Survives
My heart belonged to Branch and Brooks Valentine since we were children, when we were all too naïve to know what that even meant. We didn’t understand that when we became adults, love would change us. I had to make a choice and when I did, it ripped our bond apart. Brooks left town, and he took half of my heart with him. It was difficult, but I coped and planned my future with Branch. I thought I’d made the right decision. I loved him and I always had.
Brooks showed up to be our best man the night before our nuptials. After drinks and too much reminiscing, I ended up in bed with the wrong brother. To avoid the humiliation and the fact that I’d ruined all of our lives, I left Branch and the only family I’d ever known.
That’s where my story should have ended.
Two years, one beautiful little girl and an abusive marriage later, I was standing there staring at the man that would always hold my heart.
Jennifer Foor is an award winning Contemporary Romance Author. She’s best known for the Mitchell Family Series, which includes ten books.She is married with two children and spends most of her time behind a keyboard, writing stories that come from her heart.
Synopsis: Life couldn’t be any brighter for art dealer Christina Williams. At the top of her career, she has no problem flaunting just how perfect her little world has become.
When tragedy strikes back home, Christina is forced to put everything on hold to return back to a past she’s tried so hard to escape. Including a love she regrets letting go.
Ian Whitman has only one regret and it was letting his first love walk out of his life. Now that she’s returned, his heart won’t give her up twice without a fight.
As secrets are revealed, can Ian soothe her heart while convincing her that a place she tried so hard to run away from is the place she’s destined to stay?
Will love get a second chance in the face of tragedy?
About J.D. Hollyfield
J.D Hollyfield currently resides in the Midwest with her husband, son and three doxies. As a Creative Designer by day, she enjoys spending her spare time with her nose in a good book. This obsession inspired her to test out her own creative ability. With her love for romance books and a head full of book boyfriends, this encouraged her to bring her own story to life and create her first novel.
“An epic love. An epic hate. An epic story that would last a lifetime.”
Today, 8:15 p.m.
I hurt. I hurt so deeply, I felt the pain searing in my bones and jabbing like a hot poker into my heart. I knew nothing would make it better as the memories pulled from the crevices of my mind, detailing the bad and the ugly, filling my thoughts with regret as I slipped into the darkness. . .
When I was eight, my mother was dying of cancer, my father lost his job, and the bank kicked us out of our house. I was forced to move to the strange town of Arlis, Texas where my father and I slept in our car in the hospital parking lot. Desperate and hopeless, we lived on fumes of our former life.
Then one night, everything changed forever. A knock on the car window brought a family into my life that I only wanted to shut out. I hated charity and I hated the Masons. Well, except one. He made it impossible to hate him.
Jess Mason had the biggest blue eyes and ornery smile of any boy I had ever seen. He was a ray of sunshine in my dark world. A boy full of adventure, dragging me across the meadow of Sprayberry Ranch; a beautiful Texas paradise full of horses and tree houses that got us into more trouble than anyone ever imagined.
Jess was my everything as a kid until we grew up and the rules changed. Instead of living happily ever after with a boy full of love. . . I destroyed it.
– Alex Tanner
Author Note: The Mason List is a coming-of-age story that follows the life of Alex Tanner from the age of six to twenty-six. The novel crosses the genres of Young Adult and New Adult. It does contain some language and mild adult situations. The Mason List is a standalone, 118,940 word, full-length novel.
Wow! Are you looking for a book that is going to give you the next book hangover? Are you looking for an epic love story that is not your typical fairytale? Are you looking for a book that has you blubbering one moment and laughing so hard your stomach hurts the next moment? Are you looking for a book that will keep you captivated from the moment you open the book to the moment you close it? If you are looking for an exceptional book that will make an impression on your soul, read The Mason List by S. D. Hendrickson.
The Mason List by S. D. Hendrickson came highly recommended to me. In the midst of my busy review schedule, I bought the book with hopes to get to it as soon as I had a break in my schedule. The synopsis of the book kept haunting me. I finally put aside my schedule and allowed myself to indulge in a strictly pleasure read. The moment I opened this book I was immediately drawn into the story. I could vividly picture this very precious happy little girl playing dress up, climbing trees, and chatting with her dog. This little girl was everything an active, healthy, happy six year old child should be. Her life is perfect until two years later. Life threw her family into a downward spiral. Life took away everything she knew, everything that made her happy, and everything she looked forward to. Her life was out of control. Everything was subject to circumstance and minute by minute survival. Until fate steps in and changes her life once again. The Mason family stepped in to help the Tanner family get their lives back on track.
Alex Tanner will step into the world she has dubbed the “Mason List”. It will be a world full of anger, resentment, and hatred towards the Mason family because of their unconditional charity. It will also be a world of wonder, hope, happiness, heartache, and love because of Jessup Mason. She will find a friendship that is stronger than her hatred towards the Masons. She will find her soulmate and best friend. But just as fate stepped in when Alex was eight, fate will step in when she is an adult. This time she will have control on how she chooses to handle “The Mason List”.
This is an epic story of two lonely children that build a friendship that is timeless. Their deep bonds will grow with time into something that most people will never experience in their lifetime. The journey their lives take will have the reader enthralled. Their emotional transition from childhood to adulthood is an epic journey with eye opening moments.
The Mason List is a beautiful love story. It is a beautiful story of redemption and forgiveness. It is a story of love and hope.
It was an honor to witness Alex and Jess as they grew into The Mason List. These two characters captured my heart.
This book touched my soul. I highly recommend The Mason List.
Author Bio:
SD Hendrickson received a Bachelor’s of Science in Journalism from Oklahoma State University. Currently, her days are spent teaching computer software to oil and gas companies as well as writing technical instructional manuals. The Mason List is her first novel and it was started during National Novel Writing Month.
S.D. Hendrickson lives in Tulsa with her husband and their two schnauzers. She loves chocolate, romance books, Oklahoma State Cowboys, music, Lost, chocolate, beaches, coffee, cooking, beautiful sunsets, Friends, chocolate, sad puppy stories, dreaming of Australia, guacamole, quotes, Netflixs bing watching, Dawson’s Creek, chocolate, hot tubs, exotic animal rescues, going on vacation, Friday Night Lights, writing, and of course, chocolate.
Maya Bradley is on her own now. With the help of her dear friends, Zoey and Addy, she’s determined to give her children the lives they deserve, away from their abusive father. But the journey is destined to be difficult, and she meets her first roadblock when she asks sexy, tattooed bar owner, Jayce Gilmore, for a job serving drinks.
Jayce has two reasons for not wanting to hire Maya. One: she deserves a more respectable job. And two: he’s been madly in love with her since he was a young boy. But when he finally realizes how desperate she is for work, he has no choice but to bring her on.
With Maya struggling to earn a living, get an education, and raise two children, Jayce finally finds himself in a position to help her. And though she isn’t interested in a relationship, Maya is showing definite signs of physical attraction. Jayce is sure he can keep his love hidden and fulfill her every fantasy. Unfortunately, he has severely underestimated the needs of his heart. As the moment of truth fast approaches, Maya must decide whether to break a tough guy’s heart, or open her fragile soul to the risks that come with loving again.
This is the second book in the Big Girl Panties series. It can stand alone, but would be more meaningful if you’ve read book one first.
Eight years ago, Jayce and Maya almost had a “moment” on the night of their high school prom. When she backed out, Jayce was kind about it. He took her home and gave her his number. That was the night that irrevocably changed Maya’s life forever. With Maya trying to gain some independence after a lengthy healing process and having Damon arrested, she tries to find a job. Not an easy task for someone afraid of her own shadow. After discovering the lengths she’ll go to to provide for her children, Jayce employs her. Suddenly he’s nearly as afraid of her as she is of him!
Emotional. I laughed, I cried. I love Maya and if I thought she broke my heart in the first book, it was nothing compared to this one. Jayce pulls off such a strong and confident persona for the world, but inside, he’s still pretty broken too. What a wonderful pair. The secondary characters are terrific. They are strong and supportive without trying to take over the plot. The interaction and dialogue is real… it sucks you in, makes you *feel*. The plot is terrific and the story flowed quite smoothly. The conflicts are plentiful, some minor while some are complex and most were resolved. It’s a small puzzle piece, but no further mention is made of Maya’s dad’s outcome. Predictability was not obvious. This story concludes well, but leaves you anticipating Addy and Grey’s story.
___________________________________________
Author Bio:
When I got my first email from the man who would one day be my husband, it was very clear that he did not want to email me. Friends had set us up and he was obviously bowing to their pressure. His email consisted of a numerical list of facts about himself that he clearly meant to be the end of our correspondence.
My snarky response was a numerical list of facts about myself, and for some reason, he liked it. So that’s what I’m going to do here, since I’m not so good at writing about myself.
Carter is not my real name. Imagine how you would feel if your strictly right-wing religious family and friends found out you wrote stuff with sex and bad words in it.
I’ve been married 11 years and have three kids and two dogs.
I like to garden but I DO NOT like to talk about gardening. So please, let’s not talk about gardening.
I’m deeply introspective and welcome anyone who wants to bitch-slap me back into reality, should I float away a little too far into my own thoughts.
I think fiction is a basic and essential element of our existence as humans. I think it’s part of what makes us human. And I think we relate better to each other through stories than we do through fact–bitch slap me now, I’m getting introspective.
I’m a little flighty about hobbies. Reading, writing, and bread baking are the only ones that have stood the test of time. Current hobbies include mixing drinks, making mead, gardening, fermenting stuff from the garden…I think that’s all at the moment.
I’ll read anything. Most of my loved ones stick to their favorite genre, so I will go read what they’re reading so we can have stuff to talk about at the dinner table.
I homeschool my children. Not because of religious reasons. Not because I hate the system (although I’m not overly fond of it). But because I just want to be with them. And playing school is fun. Remember that? Playing teacher and making your younger sister do a bunch of homework? Was that just me?
Last one: The first time I dropped out of college was because I was having one of those existential crises teenagers are so fond of having. When I went home, I found stacks and stacks of notebooks in my closet full of unfinished (and god-awful) stories. I didn’t even remember writing them. But that’s when I realized that I was a writer. Because I have to do it. It’s who I am. The publishing thing is virgin territory, but I have always, and always will, write. Because I have to.
“I tried to play a game. I tried to wield deceit as perfectly as the Hawks. But when I thought I was winning, I wasn’t. Jethro isn’t what he seems—he’s the master of duplicity. However, I refuse to let him annihilate me further.”
Nila Weaver has grown from naïve seamstress to full-blown fighter. Every humdrum object is her arsenal, and sex…sex is her greatest weapon of all.
She’s paid the First Debt. She’ll probably pay more.
But she has no intention of letting the Hawks win.
Jethro Hawk has found more than a worthy adversary in Nila—he’s found the woman who could destroy him. There’s a fine line between hatred and love, and an even finer path between fear and respect.
The fate of his house rests on his shoulders, but no matter how much ice lives inside his heart, Nila flames too bright to be extinguished.
Excerpt Reveal
~ Jethro ~
I’D TAKEN HER, but ultimately, she’d taken me.
I’d tried to destroy her, but serendipitously, she’d destroyed me.
This was the beginning of the end.
Not the end of my feelings for her but the way of my life, my world.
Something would have to change.
Something would have to give…
…
Someone would have to die.
~ Nila ~
I EXISTED WITH a brain full of betrayal, schemes, and plotting.
Living with the Hawks was utterly exhausting. Every day was a challenge to figure out the truths from the lies. But no matter how hard I worked, I could never seem to unravel reality from fiction.
He’d won.
And with a winner came a loser. One triumphant and one depressed. A trophy over misery.
Two days had passed since Kestrel had granted the truth to one huge mystery. Two days in which I hadn’t been able to think of anything else.
I wanted to hate Jethro for duping me—for stringing me along like an idiot.
But whenever my anger boiled over, needing desperately to confront him, I remembered one thing.
One important, vital thing.
He’d initiated contact before he was told.
He’d communicated with me almost as if it were a cry for help, rather than a plot to deceive.
If this were another trick, then so help him, I’d find a way to castrate him.
But, somehow, I didn’t think it was.
I had a horrible feeling this was the one way that he would let me in. An avenue of truths that he felt comfortable enough to continue, because a silent written word didn’t have as much weight as a loudly spoken one.
Which brought me back to my vitally important conclusion:
Jethro wants to be honest.
He wanted to stop playing charades and show me everything he kept hidden.
He wanted to talk to someone. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t satisfied with the hand life dealt him and…
Stop fabricating excuses.
All day, I’d been coming up with theories on why he was how he was and reading too far into things that he’d done.
It could be as simple as: he’d been told to get in touch. Told to initiate contact in a way that could potentially mould me into a more submissive captive, especially if I were to believe he was on my side.
I wanted to believe he’d acted against his father. But no matter how much I wished it, it didn’t make it was true.
How do you explain the knowing then?
I slouched against my pillows in bed. That was true. A part of me just seemed to know. Call it either sheer idiocy or feminine intuition. I believed he’d texted me because I was the first outsider permitted into his world—the only one not a Hawk.
My brain hurt.
When we were alone, when we weren’t arguing or fighting, there was an enchanting calmness. A connection.
Closing my eyes, I let my mind skip back to Kes’s unwilling promise. The way his eyes had darkened with secrets as I’d collapsed into his arms from the vertigo spell two days ago.
“Nila?”
A crushing headache appeared from nowhere. It was the most I could do to stay present and not permit my mind to relive every text Jethro had sent to see the hidden agendas now that I knew it was him.
“I’m—I’m okay. You can let me go.” I struggled out of Kes’s embrace, my skin humming from his touch. I needed some space. I needed a world full of space to get over the treachery and lies.
“You didn’t know? You hadn’t guessed?” Kes crossed his arms, never taking his golden eyes from mine.
I glowered. “How could I know? I thought the messages were from you!”
He flinched. “Yes, that was the plan. To make you believe it was me, so he could continue on with whatever little mind games he was playing.” Leaning closer, he added, “I haven’t been privy to any of the messages he sent you or you sent him—so don’t feel like I’ve intruded on details that I shouldn’t.”
Anger infused my blood. “If you were both in on it—why didn’t he show you the messages? Why were you so nice to me? What does all of this mean?”
Kes moved away, reclining against a sapling. “I was nice because that’s just who I am. Yes, I come from a family with twisted up morals and I’m loyal to those twisted up morals, but I also did it out of loyalty to my brother. If you’re pissed, direct it all on him. Not me.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m pissed. Beyond pissed.” My hands balled as my mind filled with crazy ideas of retribution and revenge. I would make him pay.
“I’d cool down before you spring it on him. Best to keep it quiet. Cut doesn’t know. It was just me who knew Jet had been in touch with you before he was given the go-ahead to collect you in Milan.”
I froze. “Why did he initiate conversation with me almost five weeks before he could claim me?”
Kes shook his head. “The day I understand my brother is the day I’ll gamble my entire inheritance on the stock market. I can’t work him out. The only thing I can do is be there for him. And I only found out ‘cause he changed pretty much around the same time he started messaging you. Something was different—we’re close. So, I saw it before the others.”
My brain throbbed trying to figure out just what had changed in Jethro. He’d seemed the perfect Hawk when he’d come to collect me. Cold as ice and deadly as a sword.
Now that I knew his secret, I had power. And I had no intention of giving that power back. Jethro had been playing me for far too long. He’d successfully screwed with my head. It was time for payback. “Don’t tell him that I know.”
Kes’s eyes popped wide. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell Jethro about today. Let him continue to think I’m clueless.” My heart frothed with rage and unhappiness. I was so stupid to believe I’d gotten through to him on some level. The sex between us left both of us stripped bare. Something more than family feuds and hatred existed when he slid inside me and sent both of us shattering into dust.
I’d let him inside me. In so many ways. It was my turn to do the same.
“You know I can’t do that, Nila. As welcome as you are in our household, and as much as I like hanging out with you, I can’t betray Jet. Not after everything he’s been through.”
I pounced on the small thread of truth about my tormentor. “What has he been through, Kes? Tell me and I’ll march back to the Hall right now and tell him myself.”
Kes shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eyes. “Slip of the tongue. Forget it.”
Crossing my arms, I hissed, “Fine. Seeing as you’re so capable of keeping secrets, keep this one for me.”
Kes scowled. “Keeping my own flesh and blood’s issues hidden isn’t the same thing as helping out a Weaver.”
My heart raced. If Jethro hadn’t taught me how to stand up for myself, I would’ve cowered at the thought of being so pushy with a full-grown man all alone in a forest. Now, I was raging and fully intended to get my own way. “Give me two weeks. Two weeks before you tell him that I know. Do that and I’ll be forever grateful.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “How can you be forever grateful when forever isn’t something anyone has.”
Especially me, seeing as my lifespan was destined to be significantly shorter than his.
“Just…please, Kestrel. One favour.”
It took him a while to give in. His allegiance to his brother was strong.
Finally, he huffed. “Fine. But it won’t save you from his temper when he finds out.”
However, I had no intention of suffering Jethro’s wrath. I had every right to deceive him after he did it to me. My revelations were safe—for now. I trusted that Kes wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t know why, but on some level I did trust Kes—just enough to use him in my plans. And I was fully committed to tripping Jethro up.
It was his turn to divulge things he might not have if he’d known the truth. Hiding behind the pretence that Kite was Kes had made him softer the past few weeks. I would use that chink to make the crevice I’d been trying to form since I gave him a blowjob after hunting me down.
I couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t focus on sketching, sewing, reading.
Nothing.
My brain was a whirly-gig of Jethro. Kite. Jethro. Kite.
And I’d had enough.
Throwing myself out of bed after another sleepless night, I wrenched back the curtains and glowered at the dismal weather.
The watery dawn did nothing to inspire either anger or contentment. The sky was grey. Fog looked like haunting ghosts, threading its ghoulish tentacles over the lower woodland of the estate. No birds chirped or sun shone.
Summer had truly abandoned us. The bite in the air shouted ‘go back to bed where it’s warm’ but my brain had no such intention.
I hadn’t relaxed for two days. I’d stared at my phone, determined to text Jethro and trip him into revealing everything he kept secret, only to stare blankly at an empty message.
Now that I knew it was him, my willingness to show so much had gone. Knowledge was power and he had too much of mine already. How could I dig deeper into his mystery while maintaining all of mine?
The answer—I couldn’t. And that made me incredibly nervous. To find out who he truly was, I had to show everything that made me real. And despite the emotional growth spurt I’d endured at the hands of the Hawks, I wasn’t ready to evolve again. I’d lost so much of myself already—how much was I prepared to leave behind before I became a perfect stranger?
“Ah!” I dug my fingers into my hair. I needed a reprieve from my racing thoughts, and I knew exactly how to do it.
Mother Nature’s sudden urge to switch seasons from summer to winter couldn’t stop my itch.
I needed fresh air, and I needed it now.
Racing around my room in the new Weaver quarters where Jethro had made me beg and come apart with his cock deep inside me, I found my black spandex shorts and highlighter pink sports bra. Pulling the clothing on, followed by my sneakers, I quickly smoothed my hair into a bun, and shot from the room.
I hadn’t worn my exercise gear since the morning of the Milan runway show. I’d sprinted until I’d collapsed off the treadmill at the hotel, hoping I could dispel my anxiety enough to hide my stupid nerves and prevent a vertigo spell in front of the press.
It had worked—mainly. Until Jethro arrived, of course.
The moment when I’d set eyes upon him, I’d been done for. He’d been so dashing with his suit, tie, and diamond pin. So perfectly refined with his elegant haircut, chiselled physique, and sculptured lips. Even though his soul was dark, his body had summoned me.
He’d called to me, and like the stupid Weaver I was, I’d followed him blindly.
Now, it’s his turn to follow my whims, my rules.
Jogging down the corridor, my racing mind and temper eased, already reacting to the stress relief I’d sought all my life.
I need him out.
It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to seduce him and make him care for me—not the other way around. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my own games.
Lust was as dangerous as love. Only it was worse because it had the power to make even the worst ideas seem plausible—and even recommended—when a sexual reward was given.
The moment Jethro gave in and kissed me, I’d betrayed more than just myself. I’d betrayed my entire family line and all the Weaver women who’d died before me.
I had feelings for him.
A dangerous softness toward my would-be-killer.
It has to end.
I had to find a way to seduce him…to make him love me, all while I kept my heart frigid and locked away in an ice fortress.
I laughed under my breath. You sound just like him. I wanted to turn into the female equivalent of his glacial shell.
Only, ice wasn’t impervious. Ice melted and succumbed to fire.
I’d proven that over the past month.
The house breathed around me with gentle heartbeats only ancient dwellings could have. Spirits of past generations lived in its walls, revenants danced in the drapery, and figments of long forgotten lovers floated through the tapestries.
A grandfather clock tick-tocked as I jogged past, showing the time at six thirty a.m.
After being privy to the business meetings with Kes and the Black Diamonds, I knew the men never got up this early. They worked late, dealing with shipments and the transportation of stones worth more than any dress I could sew. Darkness was their asset, the sun their foe.
At least I could run and be back before anyone tried to stop me.
I didn’t want them to draw the wrong conclusion that I was trying to escape again. I blinked as I ran head first into a horrendous conclusion.
Even if you found the boundary this morning, you wouldn’t leave.
My heart thumped harder at the tangled web I lived.
Freedom was something I wanted more than anything. But even if I escaped the Hawks, I would only run back into the trap of pity and vertigo. I wanted more than that. I deserved more than that.
If I found the estate edge, I wouldn’t disappear. I couldn’t.
My captivity wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about the future. It was about Jethro.
Admit it…
It was about living.
The passion, the intensity, the blazing ferocity of existing with enemies and plotting beneath their noses was a much worthier cause than sitting at home sewing for the masses.
This was about me. Me standing up for myself, and for a future I wanted, not a future already planned for me.
This was about so many twisted things.
I wrenched open the French doors at the end of the corridor and stumbled into the foggy dawn. Fresh air welcomed me and I found a reprieve from my scrambled thoughts.
I can’t forget my ultimate plan.
No matter how Jethro endeared himself to me—giving me glimpses of someone barely coping inside his wintry armor—I wasn’t going to forget my goal.
Freedom.
Not just for myself, but for the rest of my legacy. My children and their children and their children’s children would never have to go through this. I intended to be the last Weaver stolen.
It’s time for a new debt—one that owes us life, not death.
Sucking in lungfuls of crisp air, I steeled myself in what I had to do. In order to win, I had to guard my soul. I had to play along with Jethro’s mind games and hope to God I won first.
A cool breeze whistled through the trees, sounding like haunted laments. I shivered, wishing I’d brought a jacket.
You’ll be sweating in ten minutes. Ignore it.
Gritting my teeth against the cold, I bent over and stretched my quads. The tug and slow release of muscles was heaven after the stress of the past few days.
My body hummed with the knowledge it was about to run.
And run.
And run.
For fun this time, not for survival.
Bouncing on the spot, I rolled my shoulders, eyeing up the sweeping lawn before me. If I went right, I’d loop around the stables. If I went left, I’d cut through the sprawling rose garden and orchards.
Go straight.
Down the meandering path that disappeared over the horizon.
I switched from bouncing to jogging.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” a cool voice whispered through the silver fog.
I wrenched to a stop, peering behind me.
No one.
“I thought you’d realised running wasn’t a viable option, Ms. Weaver.”
His icy voice sent a strange mixture of hot and cold desire down my spine. Jethro morphed into being, seeming to solidify from the mist like a terrible poltergeist. He leaned against one of the pillars holding up the portico, crossing his arms.
My heart collapsed, unable to untangle the maze of hypocrisy between us. My skin begged for his touch. My lips tingled for his. Every inch of me craved what he could deliver.
Heat. Passion. An eruption that I felt in every cell.
But none of that was real.
And I refused to believe in trickery any longer.
Mirroring his body language, I crossed my arms. “I realise escaping isn’t a viable option. But I’m not escaping. I’m running. Running is my only option to escape the mess you’ve made.”
His jaw clenched. “The mess I’ve made?”
“Yes.” I took a step backward as he advanced. “You’re messing me up, and I’m done playing whatever it is that you’re doing.” I sucked in courage and embraced honesty. It seemed to work around him, and I needed him to see how serious I was. How hurt I was with his deception.
He’s Kite.
Bastard.
Baring my teeth, I said, “It seems I have a weakness for you, but I changed my mind. I don’t—”
A low growl escaped him. “A weakness? You call what happened between us a fucking weakness?”
My breathing ratcheted as if I’d already run two miles. “The worst kind of weakness.”
He smiled, but no mirth entered his gaze. If anything, his golden eyes were luminous with anger. “You’re the one who started it…Nila.”
I gasped at the delicious decadence of my name on his lips. The sound echoed in his mouth, shooting straight to my core.
Shit.
Jethro advanced again, his body trembling with barely veiled lust. “You’re the one who created this problem.” His hand came up, fingers slinking through my tied-up hair, tightening around the back of my skull. “I can’t hear the name Weaver without getting fucking hard. I can’t even think of you without boiling with need.”
His nose brushed against mine, his lips so damn close to stealing all my scrambled plans and sending me headfirst into a life of debauchery.
“You should never have said those two words, Ms. Weaver. I told you. We’re both fucked now.”
My mind was blank, every synapse focusing on his fingers in my hair and his mouth only millimetres from mine. “What two words?”
He chuckled. The sound was self-deprecating and almost morbid with dark intensity. “Kiss me.”
I shivered in his hold. “You’re reminding me of what started this mess, or you’re asking me to kiss you?”
Ask me. And I will. God, how I will.
I’d kiss him until I’d stripped him of his arctic armor and destroyed it, I’d lick him until I tasted his truth, and I’d bite him until I’d eaten every morsel of his soul.
I’d do all that so he had nowhere left to hide.
We stood wrapped in foggy silence. The drawn out anticipation of a kiss turned my legs to jelly. If he pressed his mouth to mine, I wouldn’t be going for my run. I would climb his body and impale myself on his cock.
Fakery be damned.
Kite’s messages and deceit be damned.
I just wanted a raw connection—with this man, who made my soul whimper for wrongness.
Jethro’s tongue slipped between his lips, hypnotising me. Then…he let me go. “No, I’m not asking you to kiss me. I won’t ever ask anything from you.”
I flinched as if he’d slapped me. “Why not?”
“Because I own you. Everything I want will be given, not requested.”
Double shit.
I should hate him. I should smite him. So, why did his every word seduce me, even while I knew his morals were chauvinistic and heartless?
Forcing my body to obey, I shoved the weakness I had for him as far away as possible. My eyes trailed down his front. He wore tan jodhpurs, black riding boots, and a tweed jacket. The bulge between his legs looked heavy and far too dangerous to be legal.
“You’ve been riding.”
A gentle gust of early morning air blew his scent directly into my nose. I inhaled, soaking my lungs in hay, horse, and all things Jethro.
He nodded, crossing his arms once again. “You run. I ride. Seems we have something else in common.”
Something other than being forced into this debt and finding each other irresistible, you mean?
“Oh, what’s that?”
Jethro stepped closer, seeming to bring shadows into the smoky light of dawn. “We both need time alone to hide from the things that chase us.” He stiffened, his eyes churning with things he refused to voice. A five o’ clock shadow decorated his strong jaw, his lips parted while his gaze was pure brimstone.
Swiftly, he cupped my cheek.
Oh, God.
Electricity instantly sparked beneath his fingertips.
Would I always suffer the rhapsody of his touch?
My skin smouldered; pinpricks of light, of fire, of hell, all burnished beneath his hold. I swayed, pressing my face harder into his palm.
He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging harder against my cheekbone.
The chemistry and need to devour each other thickened with every heartbeat.
One beat.
Two beat.
Three.
We stood there, frozen on the stoop of Hawksridge Hall just waiting for the other to move. The moment we did, our clothes would disintegrate and I would willingly let him drag me into a bush and fuck me.
Lust and tension swirled.
I had so many questions and doubts; so many reasons to hate and fear him. But when he touched me…poof.
I no longer remembered, nor cared.
We swayed closer, drawn against our will to close the aching distance.
I couldn’t breathe.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
The moment stretched until it hummed with overwhelming possibilities.
Then, it snapped.
Loudly.
Painfully.
Shattering around our feet.
“You’re too fucking dangerous,” Jethro muttered, removing his touch and stepping away. Dragging his hand through his hair, he commanded, “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” His hands went to his jacket buttons, undoing them with nimble fingers.
I blinked, struggling to shed myself of heavy need and focus on the true reason why I stood barely dressed in the freezing morning. “I’m not escaping. I’ll be back in forty minutes or so.”
He shook his head, slipping out of his tweed and revealing a black long-sleeved jumper.
My mouth went dry. Even in clothing, I could make out every ridge of muscle in his stomach, every ripple of energy as he breathed in and out. He was designed straight from my fantasies, and I hated him for being so splendid.
My core clenched, sending flutters of wetness between my legs.
I hadn’t seen him in two days, yet I’d panted after him as if he’d been missing my entire life.
If he suspected I knew that he was Kite, he hadn’t let on. After Kes had told me the truth, I’d waited for Jethro to barge into my room and swear me to secrecy.
But he hadn’t.
He didn’t look at me any differently; he gave no outward sign that his lies had begun to unravel. As much as he confounded and frustrated me, I couldn’t help admiring his perfection at hiding.
I wanted to be like him. I wanted to protect my secrets so damn well that whatever I did next would come as a surprise.
I wanted to rule him.
“I’m coming with you. Don’t leave.” He disappeared into the house, leaving me abandoned and covered in chills from both the morning air and his departure.
Jogging on the spot, I deliberated ignoring him and leaving.
Just go.
What was the worst that could happen? He’d have to chase me again. My tummy coiled at the thought. I liked that idea way too much. I liked the thought of what would happen after he found me.
The power I’d felt giving him that blowjob. The awe and attraction that’d glowed in his eyes.
I want that again.
Screw waiting like a good little captive.
Make him hunt.
And then I would make him explode.
I bolted.
Indebted
Indebted Series
By Pepper Winters
Synopsis
“I own you. I have the piece of paper to prove it. It’s undeniable and unbreakable. You belong to me until you’ve paid off your debts.”
Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Being the first born daughter, her life is forfeit to the first born son of the Hawks to pay for sins of ancestors past. The dark ages might have come and gone, but debts never leave. She has no choice in the matter.
She is no longer free.
Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his twenty-ninth birthday. Her life is his until she’s paid off a debt that’s centuries old. He can do what he likes with her—nothing is out of bounds—she has to obey.
“You say I’ll never own you. If I win—you willingly give me that right. You sign not only the debt agreement, but another—one that makes me your master until your last breath is taken. You do that, and I’ll give you this.”
Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Stolen, taken, and bound not by monsters but by an agreement written over six hundred years ago, she has no way out.
She belongs to Jethro as much as she denies it.
Jethro Hawk’s patience is running out. His inheritance gift tests, challenges, and surprises him—and not in good ways. He hasn’t leashed her but he thinks he might’ve found a way to bind her forever.
Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
He was my older brother’s best friend.
He was never supposed to be mine.
I thought we would get it out of our system and move on.
One of us did.
One of us left.
Now he’s back, looking at me like he wants to devour me. And all those feelings I’d turned into anger are brewing into something else, something that terrifies me.
He broke my heart last time. This time he’ll obliterate it.
“Look at me, Elle,” he says, using the deliciously low demanding voice that once made my toes curl and my eyes roll back, and I have no choice but to tilt my head to give him my attention. “Forget those lame guys you’re dating.
Let me take you out.”
My heart, if possible, spikes further in my chest, overriding all warning of the impending chaos that’s sure to come. I try turning my attention to the poster hanging beside me, but the kissing couple makes me look back at him and the deep green eyes that are burning into mine. My stomach does a flip-flop, the way it always does when he looks at me that way and I try to take my hands back because these feelings are too scary for me to deal with right now, but he holds them tighter, bringing them up to his mouth and kissing the tip of my ring finger. Why did he pick that finger to kiss? I pull harder and he finally lets my hand drop.
“I can’t,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse.
A myriad of emotions flash in his eyes before they settle on determination and I’m forced to take a step back, away from his scent, away from his warmth, and into the cold closet behind me.
“Why not?”
I sigh, finally looking away, back down to his naked feet. “I just can’t.” He knows why not. He shouldn’t ask me that question. “What’s Vic doing, anyway?”
His body moves into mine so quickly that I don’t have time to react to his large hands clutching my arms or his face dropping until we’re nose to nose. I just stare, wide eyed, waiting for his lips to fall over mine, but they don’t. He just looks at me, breathes on me, lets me breathe on him, and he groans. And that fucking groan travels from his body into mine and crawls into the core of me, draping over every fiber inside of me.
“What do you want, Oliver?” I whisper against his lips. “What do you want from me? You want to kiss me? You want to fuck me? You want to come into my life like the hurricane that you are and tear down everything I’ve rebuilt and disappear just as quickly?”
His lips brush slightly against mine, just a breath of a touch as he stands there, crowding me like he’s about to devour me. But he won’t. He never goes in for the kill. He just lures me, casts me, reels me in and pulls away. His hands drop and his face leaves mine with the same quickness and I feel a pang deep inside me that I wish wasn’t there.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, shaking his head in a movement that makes his hair sway back and forth. His eyes are soft on mine now and I can almost hear his thoughts: I should have never kissed her. I should have never—
My brows rise in surprise at the apology, though. There are so many things I can say to him, but the sudden defeated look in his eyes keeps my mouth shut. Finally, I exhale and push off the wall, standing in front of him, with enough distance between us that we can’t reach out and touch each other.
“It’s okay just… don’t do it again. The kiss the other day was a mistake…” I stop talking and walk past him, putting my bra away and sorting through my underwear drawer like it has some sort of hidden treasure or something. This time when I feel him come up behind me, I drop my head and exhale. He really needs to stop sneaking up behind me.
“Oli—“ I start and gasp when I feel his lips on the back of my neck, soft and warm. My heart thunders and my hands begin to shake inside the drawer so I close my eyes and focus on breathing. He drops another kiss right beside that spot. I never knew the back of my neck was so sensitive. The feeling sends a ripple of sensation down my arms and through my body.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he says in a husky whisper that makes my flesh break out in goose bumps. “You’ve never been a mistake. You want me to tell your brother that I want to take you out? Is that what it would take?”
Author Bio:
Claire Contreras graduated with her BA in Psychology from Florida International University. She lives in Miami, FL with her husband, two little boys, and three dogs.
Her favorite past times are: daydreaming, writing, and reading. She has been described as a random, sarcastic, crazy girl with no filter. Life is short, and it’s more bitter than sweet, so she tries to smile as often as her face allows. She enjoys stories with happy endings, because life is full of way too many unhappy ones.
She is currently working on the second novel in her series.
As the dress-bearer for her mother’s wedding, Laney Hudson has a lot more baggage than the bulky garment bag she’s lugging from New York to Hawaii. Laney is determined to prove she’s capable of doing something right, but running chores for her mom’s fairytale nuptials is proving to be a painfully constant reminder of her own lost love.
So when she’s mistaken for the bride and bumped up to first class, Laney figures some stress-free luxury is worth a harmless white lie. Until the flight crew thinks that the man sitting next to her is Laney’s groom, and her little fib turns into a hot mess.
The last thing Noah Ridgewood needs is some dress-obsessed diva landing in his first-class row. En route to his Vegas bachelor party, the straight-laced software designer knows his cold feet have nothing to do with the winter weather.
When a severe storm leaves them grounded in Chicago and they find themselves booked into the last available honeymoon suite, Laney and her in-flight neighbor have little choice but to get better acquainted. Now, as her bridal mission hangs in the balance, perhaps the thing Laney gets right is a second chance at love.-
At first glance, Laney Hudson and Noah Ridgewood seem to have little in common. Thrown together by chance, the two accidental seatmates find themselves stuck in a snowbound Chicago on the way to their respective destinations. Laney, illustrator extraordinaire, has been designated dress courier for her mother’s wedding, and Noah, a tech-savvy entrepreneur, is on the way to his bachelor party in Las Vegas. But the more time they spend together, and the more they reveal their pasts to each other, it seems like maybe chance has very little to do with things, and that Fate may just be at work.
My favorite reads are the ones that come out of nowhere and surprise me. The description for Dictatorship of the Dress by Jessica Topper grabbed me, and I am so glad that I took the opportunity to read it, because this book is absolutely one of my favorite reads this year. Laney and Noah are far from the one-dimensional stereotypes they may seem at first. Both are made of so much more than they appear to be to each other, and, after days spent together under unusual circumstances, the layers are peeled away to reveal that they may just be exactly what the other needs. This book is categorized as a romance, and there is definitely that element to the story, but there is so much more. Characters with rich backgrounds hiding the ‘real’ them, dialogue that had me laughing out loud throughout, vividly drawn secondary characters, all combined to make this a book that I could not put down.
“I see you picked up a couple of souvenirs in Vegas,” I murmured.
“Just a couple of good-luck charms,” he replied.
“Oh, so now you believe in luck?” I chided. “What happened to strategy? And product placement?”
“I still believe in all that, too,” Noah said, gently setting me down. “And fate. And being in the right place at the right time.”
This is a read that will surely appeal to a wide variety of people, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. I look forward to reading more from Jessica, and give Dictatorship of the Dress six stars for one of the most enjoyable books that I’ve had the good luck to read lately.
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About Jessica Topper
Jessica Topper is an ex-librarian turned rock n’ roll number cruncher. She can trace her love for the written word back to age three, when she memorized Maurice Sendak’s “Chicken Soup with Rice” in its entirety.
After her daughter was born, Jessica left the Manhattan library world and began working for her husband’s music management company. He offered her a part-time bookkeeping job so she could “stay home for the baby’s first year” and pursue her dream of writing.
The baby is now thirteen, and Jessica has been working her full-time, sold-her-soul-for-rock-n-roll job as Office Manager for veteran jam band moe. ever since. She may have traded in books for bookkeeping, but the written word is never far from her mind, or her heart.
Jessica lives in upstate New York with her husband, daughter and one ancient cat.
Tara Malone is having one of those lives. Born to Oscar award-winning actor, Anthony Malone, and model-famous beauty, Veronica Scott, she should have it made. But her curvy figure and out-of-control frizzy red hair are just the start of her many, many issues. Now to make matters worse, she’s started out her week by running over model, Justin James, with her car. She had a lot of fantasies about the cover model, but never did any of them include vehicular assault.
Justin James doesn’t have time for two broken wrists, but neither does his over-achieving family. He can’t open up his fridge or unzip his fly without excruciating pain and no one else has the time to help him. Tara already shot him down at the accident scene, but maybe he can work this so that the curvy bombshell has a reason to hang around for a bit. He’s not above using guilt if it means he gets to know her better.
The first in a new series of novellas inspired by Shauna Kruse’s photography and her beautiful male models.
The Male Model Chronicles.
Disclaimer: The Male Model Chronicles, a new fictional series, built around the real-life world of Kruse Images & Photography and the gorgeous male models that Shauna Kruse gets to immortalize in her photos. The heroes are real people who also happen to be male models, but every single other thing about the series is fiction.
Justin by Christi Snow is a delightful contemporary romance. It is the first book in the Male Model Chronicles series.
One accident brings two unlikely people together. When Tara Malone accidentally runs Justin James over with her car while searching her phone for coffee,it seems as if fate has stepped in. Rather than being angry, Justin is mesmerized by the beautiful woman kneeling over him in the street.
Tara offers to help Justin with his health care needs as well as everyday life needs. Her demanding boss is out of town and she has time on her hands.
Justin and Tara have an undeniable chemistry that smolders throughout the book. Not only are they sexually attracted to one another, they also genuinely like one another.
Tara’s demanding boss will interfere with their time together. The results only make it better for both of them. Tara will grow as an individual. Justin will find that he is falling head over heels for the first time.
Justin was a feel good book. I loved both of the characters. I love their intellectual chemistry as well as their sexual chemistry. One of the best parts of this book was that Justin was a cover model for romance books. Tara was an avid reader of these books and appreciated Justin’s work.
I am looking forward to the next book in the Male Model series by Christi Snow.
Christi Snow is a fantastic writer. I have read and reviewed several of her romantic suspense books. She knows how to add the right amount of romance, the right amount of sexual tension, a solid plot, and endearing characters. Don’t miss out on her books.
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About Christi Snow
As an avid reader my entire life, I’ve always dreamed of writing books that brought to others the kind of joy I feel when I read.
But…I never did anything about it besides jot down a few ideas and sparse scenes.
When I turned 41, I decided it was time to go after my dream and started writing. Within four months, I’d written over 150,000 words and haven’t stopped since. I’ve found my passion by writing about sexy, alpha heroes and smart, tough heroines falling in love and finding their passion. I’m truly living the dream and loving every minute of it.
My tagline is…
Passion and adventure on the road to Happily Ever After. I have to admit, I am loving this adventure!
I am an independent author excited about releasing my first novel very soon. A big dream coming true!!! I’m all country…the kinda country where green grass grows and corn pops up in rows….love Miranda and her bad ass music!!! Just a simple country girl getting one story out of her head at a time…I always fall hard for a trucker style hat…especially if it’s a John Deere hat….loves me a good ol’ farm boy!!!!!!
Saucy Southern Readers 