Don’t Forget Me Tomorrow by A.L. Jackson is now live!
When my best friend’s little sister walks in on me moaning her name, it’s all over. All restraints are shattered, and every boundary demolished. Nothing will be the same…
For years, I’ve tried to keep my distance from Dakota Cooper. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and the one thing I can’t have.
But when she calls me in the middle of the night after someone tries to break into her house, I can no longer handle that distance, and I convince her to stay with me, along with her young son.
I should have known having her living under my roof would push me to the edge. Ignite the need that has simmered for so long.
The problem is, she’s forbidden. Off-limits. And I know better than crossing that line. I can’t drag her into the dark secrets of my life.
But I can’t stay away from her either, so I do the one thing I shouldn’t—I take. And now that I’ve had her, I’m not sure I can save her from who I am. . .
What to expect in Don’t Forget Me Tomorrow… *Brother’s best friend *Small town romance *Secret past *Pierced MC *Touch her and die vibes *Romantic suspense *No cheating *HEA Check CW’s at author’s website
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
I knew that this book was going to do me in from the first page. That Amy would make Dakota’s and Ryder’s story one that would steal, break, and rebuild my heart and leave me a complete and utter mess in the process. And I was not wrong.
How could we help but see that Ryder and Dakota were soul mates, from first to last, no matter what? That no matter what forces conspired to keep them apart, they were meant to be, and that a man that appears to be all hard edges and a woman whose softness belies her strength were the missing piece that the other needed?
No one writes romantic suspense quite like Amy does. The grittiness, the danger, the passion that all lead, always, to a beautiful end. And she is totally pulling out all of the stops with the Time River series, delivering two amazing books that I could not put down, and that will stay with me for a very long time. At this rate, I’m not sure that I’ll recover from Ezra’s book, but I cannot wait to see what she’s got for us. If you haven’t read these books, you are totally missing out. Make room for them on your TBR. You will not be sorry. ❤️
Meet A.L. Jackson
A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
When stakes are high and ruin nigh, beware the sorrow in the banshee’s cry.
Cry of the Banshee, an all-new steamy paranormal novella set in the Krewe of Hunters world from New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham, is available now!
Strange things are happening at Castle Darien, the legendary home of Angela Hawkins Crow’s family just outside of Dublin, Ireland.
People are dying in the most unusual ways: drowning where there’s no water, falling from heights that don’t exist…
But before every death, the banshee lets out a cry, warning that loved ones are in danger. The Irish death ghost’s haunting shrieks and sobs echo within the ancient stone walls and travel up and down the hillsides.
Terrified and broken after the death of a friend, Moira Hawkins, Angela’s second cousin, turns to her family for help, convinced that evil is at work and sure the Krewe of Hunters can determine what is happening and put an end to the strange and deadly haunting.
Angela is mystified and stricken, but she and Jackson travel to the Emerald Isle to investigate, certain that someone very much alive is behind whatever is going on.
But she and the Krewe just might need the dead to uncover the truth.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Keep reading for a look inside Cry of the Banshee!
At first, Moira Hawkins thought she might be imagining the sound. It was so soft at first, like a sigh on the wind or a whisper through the trees. Except she wasn’t in the woods. She was lying in bed in the private wing of Castle Darien, her family’s nearly ancient stronghold. But the windows were open. That had to be it. The temperature was cool but pleasant, and she didn’t need to use the heat or air-conditioning systems. Which was good since they would never be great in such an old stone fortress. Moira had promised her grandmother she wouldn’t let the castle, built at the end of the thirteenth century, go to ruin. She said she would do everything needed to bring it up to the standards so many others used to save the structure and turn it into a hotel. She was partway there. While she worked on getting the necessary loans and finding contractors to undertake such an epic restructuring, she hired a tour company to bring visitors through. There were even a few Haunted Ireland tours put on by historians, who talked about some of the dire events of the Emerald Isle’s bloody past. She figured anything around for over eight-hundred years must have some nightmarish events to relay. And her ancestral home was in the Republic of Ireland, which had suffered a great deal of bloodshed to get where it was today. Yet… It occurred to her that she had heard—or at least imagined—the soft, mournful sobs before. The night Granny had died. Imagination. Had to be. But she’d heard the sound the night before they found the old man drowned in the river that ran alongside the castle’s western wall, too. And the time the would-be thief fell to his death from the wall. They’d learned the elderly gentleman, visiting family in the area, had been suffering from cancer. Moira wondered if he had chosen his end. And while the thief shouldn’t have been trying to climb the wall, he hadn’t deserved death. As she thought back, she realized the sound had preceded all those events. She shook her head. She had to be imagining it. She might have spent the last few years of Granny’s illness working in the States, but she’d grown up with all the tales of leprechauns, pixies, fairies, and banshees. Granny had been so good at telling them, holding her cousins and her spellbound as she wove her magical tales. The crying grew louder. She wasn’t imagining it. She could definitely hear it. It wasn’t a frightened cry. It was mournful, heartfelt. Yet Moira was afraid. Where is it coming from? She glanced at the clock on her bedside table—just past midnight. The last ghost tour had ended by now, but she wasn’t alone in the castle. Stewart McKenna, her grandmother’s longtime castle steward, slept down the hall with his wife. Their son’s bedroom was next door to theirs. Nellie Antrim, the head housekeeper, was on this floor, as well. And while the tour of the two unoccupied towers had just ended, Mark Meadows, the tour agency’s director, often stayed behind to answer any questions the guests might have regarding the castle or Ireland’s history. Because, of course, Mark wasn’t just a businessman, though he was a good one. He truly loved history and didn’t mind working late. He was…wonderful. The sobbing continued. Moira’s mind went to something her granny had told her. Banshee. Banshees are the remains of the Tuatha dé Danann, the gods of Ireland, driven underground when the Milesians arrived—Gaels who traveled the Earth, seeking a home. And there, in Éire, they claimed the land while the Tuatha dé Danann settled the underworld. Once, keeners had been on hand at funerals, sobbing mournfully for those who had left the earthly world. The banshees fulfilled that tradition now, warning of someone’s death… Get a grip! she told herself. Seriously, she’d spent enough time in the United States to learn all about all kinds of myths and legends from around the world. There are no such things as banshees. Still…
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant returns to the beautiful and mysterious Isle of Skye with a captivating tale of magic, mystery, and unexpected passion.
A desire that won’t be denied.
Ferne Crawford is a Seer with unique abilities that set her apart from other Druids. She once ignored her magic with tragic results. So, when she’s bombarded with visions of a great evil that call her to a place she’s been warned never to go, she’s powerless to resist. Her life takes a drastic turn the moment she arrives on Skye and encounters a handsome, valiant stranger. Theo makes her ache for his touch. Their meeting stirs an explosive passion, awakening a yearning that only he can satisfy. However, there’s more than the malice which brought her to the isle that intends her harm.
Detective Inspector Theo Frasier carries the weight of the isle and his people on his shoulders. With more Druid murders and no leads on who’s controlling the killing mist, he’s beginning to feel the strain. The last thing he needs is anything—or anyone—distracting him. But once he meets Ferne, he can’t get her out of his head. Or his heart. She fills his every thought, day and night. His need for her consumes him, pushing everything else aside. But will his love be enough to save them from the growing threat?
After her parents and the London Druids told Ferne relentlessly never to set foot on the Isle of Skye, and that the Druids who called the isle home were not to be trusted, she ignored them all to follow an instinct she continued to question.
The closer she got to Skye, the more her stomach churned. She could turn back. She had yet to reach the isle. Sure, her brother knew where she was going, but Mason would accept if she returned before going farther. Yet she didn’t turn her car around. She kept driving.
The bridge that connected mainland Scotland to the Isle of Skye came into view. There was still time. All she had to do was pull over and turn around to head back to England and Mason. Generations of Druids knew never to come to Skye. It meant immediate banishment by family, though Mason would never do that to her. He supported her. Always. Still, she felt a gnawing uncertainty that made her want to retch.
“Last chance,” she whispered as she came upon the bridge.
Her foot lifted from the accelerator, but she kept driving. Her heart slammed erratically against her ribs when she reached the top of the structure, and then she was on the descent. Before she knew it, her tires rolled onto the Isle of Skye.
She shook so badly she thought she would have to pull off the road, but as quickly as the shaking had begun, it slowed and then stopped altogether when she was on Skye. Ferne’s gaze swept around her, taking in the shops, houses, cars, and people, not to mention the unimaginable beauty everywhere. The navigation system directed her toward the cottage she had rented, but she ignored it and just drove. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not only because it had been ingrained in her from her earliest memories but because there was a really good chance the Skye Druids would force her out as soon as they learned who she was. Ferne would take whatever time she had to see Skye while she could.
The sun remained hidden behind soft gray clouds that intermittently sputtered drizzle. The sea whitecapped in some coves, while others had smoother water. The mountains rose like stony giants watching over the isle. There were lochs, waterfalls, and a landscape of such rugged splendor that she began to understand why so many tourists frequented the isle. But there was something else, as well. Magic.
Ferne had once heard a London Druid whisper about how a friend of theirs had said they could sense the magic on Skye. She had dismissed the claim as an exaggeration. Now, she knew they hadn’t lied. While she wouldn’t say she actually felt the magic, there was something different in the air. And she wanted to feel more of it.
The only thing missing was her brother. Mason loved their Druid side more than she did. She had shied away from her magic for several years. Not Mason. He went all-in on everything. There were no half-measures for him. He would love it on Skye.
Her intention to drive and take in the beauty of the isle was soon cast aside by her need to get out and experience the majesty for herself. The instant she saw the signage for the Fairy Pools, Ferne turned off the road and headed toward them. It was a main tourist attraction, but she didn’t care.
Her mobile rang as she maneuvered down the lane to the nearly empty car park. She glanced around, searching for the pools. All she saw was a path. The insistent ringing brought her thoughts to a halt. She didn’t need to look to know who called. Only one person ever rang her.
She answered through her car. “Hey, Mason.”
“Is everything all right?” His deep voice held concern. “It took you longer to answer than normal. By my calculations, you should’ve reached Skye. Have they given you problems?”
Ferne maneuvered her Mini into a parking slot. She squashed the irritation that rose at her brother’s overprotectiveness. She was the same with him. They had been that way since they’d lost their parents in a plane crash. “I’m here. The drive was uneventful.”
“Have you gone to the house yet?”
She grinned, shaking her head as she put the car in park. “I haven’t.”
He released a long sigh, and she could well imagine him running his hand down his face as he did when he was restless and agitated. Or worried. “There’s still time for you to come home. No one has to know you’re there.”
“I’m not afraid of them.”
“Ferne,” he said, reminding her of their father when he chided her. Very British, with his voice dripping disappointment.
She closed her eyes to the gorgeous backdrop of the Black Cuillin mountains. “I had the same argument with myself the entire ten-hour drive here. I have to do this.”
“You’re all I have left.”
“And you’re all I have, but that doesn’t mean we should shut ourselves away from the world. Or stop doing what’s right. The Druids on Skye are in danger. If they’re toppled, the rest of the Druids around the world will fall.”
Another sigh. “This is a dangerous thing you’re doing.”
Ferne opened her eyes. “So is what you’re doing.”
“Excuse me?” he said after a slight pause.
“I admit, it took me longer to sort through things because I was preoccupied. If it weren’t so important for me to be here, I would’ve turned around and come home.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not looking into whether Mum and Dad’s accident was more than that.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a soft, “Bloody hell.”
“What you’re doing is much more dangerous, Mas. You should’ve told me.”
“The elders—”
“Can bloody well sod off,” she snapped. Then she pressed her lips together. “They want to control everything and everyone. Neither of us has ever been satisfied with the reports from the plane crash. If the London Druids had anything to do with the accident, then they’ll be watching you.”
“Us.”
She winced at the truth of his words. “They don’t care about me. It’s you they’ve always had their eyes on.”
Mason chuckled, surprising her. “You sound just like Mum.” The smile left his voice. “Just as you have to do what you’re doing, I need to do this. I know what I’m doing. Trust me, Ferne.”
“I do.”
“I’m going to get us answers, and while I hate that you’re on Skye without me to watch your back, it’s better that you’re not here. Not after they kicked you out of London.”
She rolled her eyes. “If they do anything to you, I will burn them to the ground.”
“That’s how I feel about the Skye Druids.”
She grinned. “I almost feel sorry for anyone who comes against us.”
“I don’t,” he replied, no humor in his voice. “It’s what happens when tragedy strikes a family, and all they have is each other.”
Ferne wanted so much to reach out and hug him. “I’ll ring once I’m at the house.”
“Stay in touch as you promised.”
“I’ll be just as worried about you.”
He paused. “Find out all you can about the Druids there. Just…”
“I know,” she replied. “Be careful. The same goes for you.”
She disconnected and turned her attention to the landscape. Her worry for Mason wouldn’t lessen until she returned to the family estate in Derbyshire, but she couldn’t do that until she finished on Skye. But now that she was here, she knew it would be harder to leave than she’d ever anticipated.
Ferne unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car. The air was damp and chilly, made more so by the soft wind. She grabbed her purse and walked around to open the car’s boot. After she’d tucked her keys and mobile into her pockets, she hid her purse and dug out her hiking boots from her suitcase. Once she’d changed shoes, she put on her coat and secured the car. Then, she walked around the vehicle.
“So. This is Skye,” she murmured.
She started across the road to the trail that wound through the land. A path that millions of feet had walked. Like all of Skye, the pools had originally been for the Druids. But there was no stopping change. Now, the Fairy Pools were a popular tourist stop for anyone who visited the isle. Not that Ferne could blame them.
After tripping a couple of times, she had to force herself to look away from the mountains and watch where she stepped. She crossed a small trickle of water that grew wider and deeper the closer she got to the pools. In her excitement, she hadn’t taken the time to look around to see who was about.
As much as she dismissed Mason’s worry, he had a point. Many wouldn’t want her on Skye. Ferne paused next to a boulder that towered over her and took out her mobile. She recorded a video, turning in a slow circle to get everyone in. From what she could tell, only a couple with two young kids was at her back toward the car park. As for the other car besides hers, she guessed it was the lone figure in the distance. She couldn’t make out if it was a male or a female, but she was on guard regardless.
Ferne continued walking. She contemplated getting pictures for Mason, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the land. With every step, she thought about the generations of Druids who had walked the path, seeking the pools. This was the land of her ancestors, a territory that had beckoned to Druids long, long ago. And she finally understood why.
She also understood why the London Druids were so adamant about no one visiting. The land was stunning, yes, but it was also magical. It felt like home. The magic within her recognized Skye and found contentment here, which meant she was relaxed and comfortable. After years of being twisted with grief, it was like coming out of hibernation. The air was fresher, the wind like a caress upon her skin. Her steps were lighter, her mood brighter.
A few minutes later, she passed the young family. The kids, twin girls, held hands as they walked, singing in what she thought was Swedish. The mother and father gazed adoringly at their children and flashed her a quick smile. Ferne knew how well some could deceive, so she once more pretended to take pictures and watched the family out of the corner of her eye until they were gone.
She reached one of the first waterfalls. She stood for long minutes, simply watching the rush of water as it poured into a waiting, crystal-clear pool. As she climbed higher, the waterfalls became grander, the pools bigger and deeper, and the rocks below larger.
She spotted one that jutted out in the distance and headed there so she could stand over the waterfall and look down the gorge where the water had cut into the rock and land, carving out the pools. A glance around showed she was alone. She looked behind her at the car park and saw only her Mini. She had the pools to herself. She almost broke out in a dance. If Mason were here, he would’ve egged her on. Her father would have, too. Only her mother, laughing all the while, would’ve hurried them along.
Knowing she was alone, Ferne lowered her guard and took her time climbing the path. A smattering of rain came quickly and ended just as rapidly, but even that couldn’t get her to return to her car. When she reached the rock she had seen, she lowered herself onto it, letting her legs dangle over the side. It was quite a considerable distance down.
Ferne leaned back on her hands and considered Rhona, the leader of the Skye Druids. She probably should’ve been Ferne’s first stop, but she would go see Rhona first thing in the morning. It was already late afternoon, and Ferne still needed to get to the house she had rented.
She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. The magic of the isle pulsed here. It was what had initially drawn the Fae when there had been an alliance between the Skye Druids and them. The rumors swirling around the London Druids was that an alliance might be intact once more. However, whether she could believe anything her old group said was something else altogether.
The London Druids had their fingers in a lot of pies. They believed they were more powerful than the Skye Druids, who probably didn’t even know they existed. Every group of Druids around the world compared themselves to Skye. It was hard not to when it was the land on which the Druids had settled in the beginning.
Until her ancestors and countless others had been banished from Skye forever.
Yet here she was, wading into dangerous territory to save the very people who had turned their backs on her relatives. Ferne had tried to reach Kirsi, one of the Druids on Skye, and while she had connected with her through magic, she wasn’t sure if she would go to Rhona as Ferne had urged. There was also a darkness swirling around Skye that prompted Ferne to come herself.
She wasn’t here just to save the Druids on Skye, but all Druids. She would need to convince Rhona of that—however long it took. She wasn’t leaving until she knew the Skye Druids had their enemy in hand. Ferne hadn’t told her brother that she was prepared to fight alongside the Skye Druids to achieve that, but he already knew. Because he would do the same.
Meet Donna Grant
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. Her latest acclaimed series, Dragon Kings, features a thrilling combination of dragons, Fae, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives in Texas.
He’s married to his mission. She’s married to her career. Will Hale and Elsa allow their hearts to surrender and let love in?
Fighting the Pull, the heartrending, emotional fifth standalone book in the River Rain Series from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley is available now!
Hale Wheeler inherited billions from his father. He’s decided to take those resources and change the world for the better. He’s married to his mission, so he doesn’t have time for love.
There’s more lurking behind this decision. He hasn’t faced the tragic loss of his father, or the bitterness of his parents’ divorce. He doesn’t intend to follow in his father’s footsteps, breaking a woman’s heart in a way it will never mend. So he vows he’ll never marry.
But Hale is intrigued when he meets Elsa Cohen, the ambitious celebrity news journalist who has been reporting on his famous family. He warns her off, but she makes him a deal. She’ll pull back in exchange for an exclusive interview.
Elsa Cohen is married to her career, but she wants love, marriage, children. She also wants the impossibly handsome, fiercely loyal, tenderhearted Hale Wheeler.
They go head-to-head, both denying why there are fireworks every time they meet. But once they understand their undeniable attraction, Elsa can’t help but fall for the dynamic do-gooder.
As for Hale, he knows he needs to fight the pull of the beautiful, bold, loving Elsa Cohen, because breaking her would crush him.
The thing on my mind that I wasn’t admitting was taking more headspace than it should was the fact that Hale had texted the day before. Again. Why he wasn’t letting himself off the hook about this interview he never wanted in the first place, I did not know. And it wasn’t going to be me who let him off the hook. Oh no. Not officially. But I wasn’t returning his texts, so unofficially, the guy should take a hint. We’d made a deal almost a year before. The deal was, I’d kinda, sorta lay off his family, he’d give me an interview. I couldn’t totally lay off his family. They were the most celebrated celebrities in the world. Even the ones who hadn’t sought that out, like Chloe Pierce and Judge Oakley. But there were a great many different kinds of celebrity news, and it didn’t seem like Hale Wheeler had cottoned on to the fact I wasn’t a mudslinger. Sure, I also wasn’t an objective journalist. But I wasn’t TMZ either. Nugget of news: you could share gossip for a living and still be classy. I was proof of that (or I thought I was). I had my key ready to put into the four locks on the door to the building where my studio was in Brooklyn, and with practiced ease, I was out of the New York autumn morning cold in no time. I locked the door behind me and headed to the space in the sectioned off warehouse that I rented for my studio. I had to unlock that door too (only three locks this time), and once inside, I practically ran into Chuck, my cameraman, who was for some reason right there and crowding me. My space was small, but this was weird. I looked at his face, and…great. We’d probably been burgled. It wasn’t like I had a ton of expensive equipment, but what I had was hard won. I had offers coming in, and they were healthier than I’d allowed myself to dream, but I hadn’t signed on any dotted line. So, for the foreseeable future, ongoing operating costs, and any expansion, was on me. I didn’t have time to deal with police reports and insurance companies telling me how little they could actually replace seeing as some small line in their contract exempted them from doing what I paid them to do. Nor did I need to be shelling out to replace stuff. “What’s up?” I warily asked Chuck. “Hale Wheeler is here,” he whispered. Oh no. That was worse than being burgled. My gaze flew beyond Chuck to my set which was a one-step dais on which sat a mint green velvet swivel chair with a glass-topped gold side table beside it. These were in front of a greenscreen backdrop we could make anything we wanted it to be. Though usually it was subtle pastel green and peach swirls against a soft white with the words “Elsa’s Exchange” repeated throughout. And damn it all to hell, there he was. Tall, ridiculously handsome, athletically built Hale Wheeler, the richest man in the world.
He knows the exact moment she will die and he will risk everything to stop it… even his life.
The Grave Robber, an all-new steamy paranormal novella set in the Charley Davidson world from New York Times bestselling author Darynda Jones, is available now!
Eric Vause is done.
Done with ghosts. Done with hellhounds. And definitely done with asshole demons, mostly because he’d been possessed by one. Even now, five years later, the rage he absorbed from the creature has yet to wane, so he decides a road trip is in order. Surely some cool air, great scenery, and a case of Dos Equis will shake things loose. Unfortunately, supernatural events happen everywhere. When he meets up with a friend whose partner’s daughter needs help with a pest problem—aka, a ghost—Eric takes that as his cue to leave.
Until he sees her.
He can tell Halle’s house isn’t the only thing that is haunted. The hopelessness behind her eyes tugs at something deep inside him. Something all too familiar. The fact that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen has nothing to do with his change of heart. And he vows to leave her in his rearview the minute he takes care of the poltergeist. Then again, vows were never his strong suit.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.*
“What do the notes say?” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, stalling. She stalled some more when she said, “I can’t always read them.” “Halle,” I warned. Her shoulders deflated as she released a surrendering sigh. “At first, they were just numbers. They started right after my mom died. The number twelve kept popping up. But a month later, it changed to an eleven. Then a ten. Then a nine.” “A countdown.” “Yes. Every month for the last year, he’s been counting down. And now we’re at number two.” She leveled an accusing gaze on me. “And you’ve known since the first time you laid eyes on me.” “Not the first time,” I said, slightly offended. “What makes you think they’re death threats? They could mean anything.” “Because the other note he leaves is pretty explicit. It’s just one word. Payback.” Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. “Halle, what happened seventeen years ago? What changed your life so dramatically? And who wants payback?” She shook her head and looked away, tears shimmering in her eyes. I leaned onto my elbows and put a hand over hers. “Halle, I know this is hard, but please trust me.” “It’s not that. It’s not that I don’t trust you. You’ve earned that and then some. But if I tell you what happened, what I did, you won’t want to have sex with me anymore.” I almost snorted. Clearly, she didn’t understand the male thought process. But I needed to chill. I was pushing her too hard. I wanted her to bend. Not break. The furball started whimpering at her feet. Halle picked her up, nuzzled her, then set her in the box she’d brought along with a dry towel from the bathroom. With a full belly, the furball settled immediately and went to sleep. Halle straightened and walked over to stand in front of me. “Is that a yes?” “No,” I said, taking in every curve she had to offer. She smelled sweet, like jasmine. “It’s a hell yes.” I put a hand on her hip, the heat from her body soaking into my skin as she straddled me. With hesitant fingers, she tested the abrasion on my jaw. “Are you sure this is okay? You were hit by a truck yesterday.” “I was sideswiped by a truck. Huge difference.” She nodded and grew thoughtful as though making calculations in her head. Now was not the time for math. “I’m pretty sure you’re a supernatural being,” she said, completely serious. “That you’re not real and will disappear as soon as all of this is over.” “I have several friends who are supernaturally inclined. I am not one of them. And I’m not going anywhere.” She buried her fingers in my hair and covered my mouth with hers. I’d never welcomed a kiss more in my life.
For More Information about Darynda Jones, visit her website: https://darynda.com/
There’s a magnetic attraction when a happy-go-lucky gig worker agrees to a fake relationship with a rich, uptight New Yorker in this steamy romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young.
Star Shine Meadows is all about freedom, thanks to the hippie parents who raised her. Juggling her jobs as a professional costume character actor and a line sitter, she believes in no expectations, no stressful ambitions, and no-strings-attached relationships. So when she meets a birthday girl’s grumpy uncle while working a princess party, she can’t help but needle him. She’ll never see him again, and honestly, he’s pretty hot.
Rafe Whitman may be a veterinarian with a great bedside manner, but that doesn’t mean his patience extends to anyone with opposable thumbs. His family will not stop nagging him about finding “the one,” so when he runs into obnoxiously cheery Star again, he makes her an offer: He’ll pay her more than she would make doing her odd jobs if she’ll pretend to be his girlfriend at family gatherings. She can stop sitting in line waiting for someone else’s new phone, and he’ll get his family off his back.
When the tension between them heats to a breaking point, Star’s desire for “no strings” is tested against Rafe’s staunch stability. They say opposites attract, after all….
Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Audible, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and Kobo!
Samantha Young is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She’s been nominated for several Goodreads Choice Awards. Samantha writes adult contemporary and paranormal romance, YA urban fantasy and YA contemporary fiction and is currently published in 31 countries.
Love on the Byline, an all-new captivating, beautifully-crafted Plays & Players novel from USA Today bestselling Xio Axelrod is available now!
Blake Dillon isn’t exactly living the dream. She longs to follow in her grandfather’s footsteps and make a difference in the world as a journalist. Unfortunately, her current job has her paying-off hotel staff for celebrity gossip. Tasked with shadowing a film star for an in-depth profile, Blake sees it as a chance to finally prove her worth. She never expected the interview to reconnect her with her old college crush.
Oliver Benjamin agrees to move to Los Angeles to work as the executive assistant to his best friend, a rising star. He hopes it will give him some direction. However, he soon discovers the only difference between being a frat boy and a Hollywood heartthrob is the amount of free stuff and the level of media attention. Ollie spends most of his time putting out fires, leaving little time for anything else. When Blake is sent to chronicle their lives, he finds himself face-to-face with the one that got away.
Blake and Ollie are smart enough to recognize the signs—there are enough sparks between them to melt glass—but they agree to put a lid on it until the article is finished. Much easier said than done when they’re forced to spend more time together than apart. There’s more going on than a simple interview, but they’re both professionals. They must resist temptation or risk unraveling both their lives.
Keep reading for a look inside Love on the Byline!
Blake stared, wide-eyed. // Ollie Benjamin was a mystery she wanted to solve.
Too many of her memories of him from college had been tied up with the incident with Bran. Until recently, she’d filed both men away in her mental yearbook.
In college, Ollie had been a tantalizing combination of hot, shy, brilliant, awkward, and athletic. As well as fiercely loyal to his best friend. He seemed to remain all of those things to varying degrees. If anything, his loyalty to Bran had increased exponentially. Blake found this mentoring kids, French-speaking, expert in organization and people-handling version of Ollie intriguing.
He was also heart-stoppingly beautiful.
“Bien sûr, si cela n’est pas possible, Monsieur Cody devra malheureusement décliner l’invitation.” There was a pause, and Ollie looked up at Blake, clearly amused by whatever expression he saw on her face.
Blake realized she’d frozen still, her glass of OJ stuck midway to her lips. Lowering it to the counter, she arched a brow and gestured towards the phone in his hand as if to say really? French?
Ollie shrugged one shoulder, the apple of his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. Looking away, he blinked a few times before someone on the other end of his call brought back Bossy Oliver. “Oh? Merci, ce serait merveilleux. Monsieur Cody est impatient d’assister au spectacle. Oui, merci. Merci. Au revoir.”
When he disconnected the call, Blake raised her glass in a toast. “Impressive.”
“What?” Ollie set his phone on a wireless charger underneath one of the kitchen cabinets.
“What? he asks, as if he didn’t just rattle off his demands in fluent French,” she said, teasing.
“Do you speak French?”
“No, I took Spanish. None of it stuck, I’m afraid.” “Then how do you know I was making demands?” Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter behind him. They were very nice arms.
“Spanish, French…those romance languages share enough for me to recognize some things,” she replied. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“My father is French,” he said, casually blowing her tiny mind. “Remember? You met him once.”
“I did?”
Ollie visibly deflated, though he tried to cover it by waving away her question. “It was only briefly. Anyway, yeah. I spent every summer in France until I was fifteen.”
“Wow, you’d think I’d remember something like that.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Back then, people didn’t pay much attention to anything I said.” He laughed under his breath. “Not much has changed, now that I think of it.”
“I think you’re severely underestimating yourself,” she countered. “My experience with French begins and ends with Ratatouille, but I understood enough to know you got what you wanted from that call.”
“That has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Bran. He’s at that point in his career that he only needs to ask, and lots of people will bend over backward to give him what he wants.”
“Sheesh. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
Thankfully, he laughed. A rich, hearty sound, unguarded and free, that made her insides hum.
“He’s not so bad. Believe me, I’ve heard horror stories from other assistants. At least he’s not a diva.”
The jury was still out on that. “How did you and he become friends?” It was a curiosity how these two men could have formed such an obviously strong bond. On paper, at least, they were different in almost every possible way. She’d heard of opposites attracting, but still.
“I can’t think straight when you’re this close to me.” “Good.”
Cherry Lane, an all-new heat-filled Huckleberry Bay novella from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby is available now!
From New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Kristen Proby comes an all-new small town romance set in her beloved Huckleberry Bay series, Cherry Lane!
Sometimes, love is waiting in the most unexpected of places.
Zeke Cross is a big city guy who finds himself living in the smallest town on the face of the earth, running an auto repair shop with his best friend. Not just running, but owning. He’s not used to sleepy little towns. He craves noise, excitement, and people. And yet, he’s grown to love the town of Huckleberry Bay, and the people who have welcomed him into the fold. Almost everyone has been kind and accepting of the outsider.
Everyone except Cherry Dubois.
Cherry is a small town girl, and she misses the sleepy community from her childhood. Now, her home is overrun by move-ins, who seem hell-bent on bringing big city ideals to her little town, and ruining what she’s always had. Her neighbor, Zeke, is the most annoying of all, with his loud music and arrogant attitude. How is she supposed to think when he’s around? Sure, he’s handsome, but that almost makes it worse.
Then Cherry needs Zeke’s help, and she finds out that the big city guy isn’t all that bad, especially when he has his hands on her and makes her forget all the reasons why she doesn’t like him. But at the end of the day, will she be able to trust this man to stay for good, or will her worst fears come true?
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
“Listen, I know we don’t get along—despite this little moment of truce. You don’t have to do this.” “It’s true, you drive me crazy. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be neighborly.” He pushes his hand through his hair in agitation. This is the Zeke I know. “Maybe we can work out a trade.” I take a step back, appalled. “No.” “Jesus, not that kind of trade, although you’re hot as fuck, and I wouldn’t complain.” I’m pretty sure my jaw just hit the floor. Zeke thinks I’m hot? “I was thinking that maybe you could put a hold on the nagging while I offer you my hot water.” “I don’t nag.” He laughs and rubs his fingertips into his forehead like he’s completely frustrated. “You nag more than my grandmother, and that woman could have won an Olympic gold medal if it were a sport.” “What do I nag you about?” I prop my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him. “What don’t you nag me about?” He shakes his head. “’Turn the music down, Zeke. Stop laughing so loud, Zeke. Jesus, Zeke, when was the last time you checked your mail? It’s overflowing in your box. Zeke, you parked like crap again.’ I’m telling you, I get real sick and tired of my name.” I can only blink at him. Do I really sound like that? Do I bitch at him constantly? “Well.” I sound stiff as a board, but I can’t help it. I’m mortified. “I will stop doing that. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. And thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass. I can go to my parents’ house. I appreciate your help tonight. Have a nice evening.” He frowns. “Now, you just sound like you have a stick up your ass.” “What do you want from me?” It comes out in an exasperated shout. “Christ Jesus, Zeke, have you ever considered that I nag because you do those things all the goddamn time, and it’s inconsiderate? No, I’m sure you haven’t. You just think I’m a tight-ass bitch who likes the sound of my own voice, not a human being who has jobs and responsibilities of her own. But it’s fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut from here on out and suck it up. I’ll invest in some noise-blocking earbuds and park in the visitor parking so I don’t have to deal with your shitty parking jobs. I really do appreciate you being so nice to me tonight. It was a pleasant surprise, but I won’t expect it to continue. See you around.” “God, you’re so damn exasperating.” “Same goes, Zeke.” We just stand there for several seconds, breathing hard and glaring at each other, and then the next thing I know, Zeke closes the gap between us, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me. Like, kisses me. It’s hot and demanding, as if he’s been thinking about doing it since the minute we met, and he has months-and-months-worth of pent-up sexual aggression to get out. And, surprisingly, I don’t mind at all.
From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward comes a new forbidden, enemies-to-lovers story…
It all started with an unexpected phone call.
Two years after my fiancé passed away in an accident, his father died suddenly, leaving Brad’s adult, special-needs brother with no one to care for him.
The next thing I knew, I was on a cross-country drive to New Hampshire where I’d be moving in to look after Scottie until I could get him into a group home.
The last thing I ever expected?
I wouldn’t be taking care of him alone.
Josh Mathers, my fiance’s best friend—who also happened to be my sworn enemy—insisted he was the better person for the job. He told me to go back to California, and I told him where he could stick that demand.
Our disdain for each other wasn’t anything new. It dated back to a text I’d accidentally read years ago.
We hated each other. But we both loved Scottie, so neither of us budged.
Now we were living together in a tiny house—with one available bedroom. Thank goodness it was only temporary.
Over time, I realized the broody jerk I thought I knew was different than I’d imagined.
I found myself slowly growing attached to someone I once considered the enemy…and growing attracted to him.
Sure, both of us were guilt-ridden over Brad. We were also two grown people with pent-up frustration toward one another—stuck in a cabin in the woods.
Penelope
Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling
author of contemporary romance.
She grew up
in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a
television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son,
and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two
million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author
of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen
languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant delivers an epic prequel to her long-running and critically acclaimed Dark Universe series.
Passion’s magic ignites a fire too hot to touch—and too wicked to die…
The stars have always called to Ailis, beckoning her to see what other realms were out there. She’s told its impossible, but that doesn’t stop her need to explore beyond what others believe. Ailis never expected to change history by creating the first doorway to another realm. She certainly never imagined opening that door to find a commanding dragon who shifts into a man. She’s irresistibly drawn to Lennox, powerless against the yearning of her body and the longing of her heart.
Magic might have chosen Lennox as King of Dragon Kings, but it’s a position he’s never wanted. Until the day a new being arrives—and irrevocably changes his life. The closer he gets to the fearless, ravishing woman, the more he fights the passion that flares between them. He lives only for his duty, but one fiery kiss unleashes a firestorm of desire that will ripple across eons and realms. Fate might have brought them together, but will it also tear them apart?
The origins of the Dark Kings/Dragon Kings and the entire Dark Universe is finally revealed.
Lennox knew every creature on the realm, and the one before him wasn’t one of them. The being was small, seemingly harmless, but underestimating her would be his folly. He climbed out of the water, intending to investigate this new arrival—and what it wanted. His duty was to protect the dragons and the realm itself—from anything he deemed a threat. And until he knew differently, the newcomer was exactly that.
While he didn’t know what it was yet, his magic informed him that it was female. He took in her exotic look, finding it surprisingly appealing. Her thick hair fell nearly to her hips, the black strands woven with bright silver. Her oval face was both delicate and fierce—a combination that utterly intrigued him. Her crimson eyes were ringed in black, making her thick, midnight lashes more pronounced. She had high cheekbones, a stubborn tilt to her chin, and lips that drew his gaze again and again.
She wore garments to cover herself, which he found curious. Though he had to admit he liked the way they contoured to her body, showcasing every amazing curve. The article closest to her skin was so dark a green it was nearly black. Over that was a piece of black leather laced up her front to end in a V at her breasts, showing the green beneath it and then her beige skin.
Draped across her body was a length of leather with a bag attached at the end. Her legs were encased in black with material that looked as supple and pliable as skin. Her feet were also covered in leather, albeit thicker, the material going all the way up to her knees.
His gaze moved back to her mouth as she spoke. He frowned as he listened to the inaudible words. Lennox then noticed the iridescent orbs in each of her hands. He immediately realized it was magic of some sort. So, this female had magic as dragons did. Interesting.
She spoke again, and his power began to decipher the words.
“…well? Get on with it,” she demanded.
Lennox fought not to smile at her pluck. He wanted to talk to her, but dragons didn’t communicate as she did. No sooner had the thought gone through his mind than pain shot through him. Bones snapped, and muscles and ligaments tore. A bellow locked in his throat at the agony. It felt like it went on forever, and then it was just…gone.
He suddenly found himself no longer towering over the female. Lennox glanced down at himself to see that he looked like her. That wasn’t possible. He lifted his hands, expecting to see his long talons, but they were gone. As were his scales.
“Bloody hell,” she murmured, her voice soft with surprise.
He knew he was stunned. This had never happened before. He swallowed and worked his mouth as she continued eyeing him suspiciously. Lennox wanted to move, but he was still testing his new body. The last thing he wanted was to fall flat on his face. The female might just use those balls of magic on him.
Lennox flexed his fingers and squeezed his toes in the rocks that lined the shore. He rotated his shoulders before stilling as something landed against his cheek. He reached up to feel it. He tugged but discovered it was attached to his head.
“That’s your hair,” the female stated.
He looked at her black and silver locks and tried to see his. To his surprise, he could move it around enough to see that it was a golden hue.
“You understand me?”
Lennox’s gaze slid to her as he nodded. But he didn’t try for words. He touched his face. His long snout and sharp teeth were gone. Once more, hands drew his gaze. He rubbed his fingers along his thumb, captivated by the feeling. This was entirely different than what he experienced in his other form. There were thousands more sensations, each demanding his attention.
Meet Donna Grant
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. Her latest acclaimed series, Dragon Kings, features a thrilling combination of dragons, Fae, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives in Texas.
Saucy Southern Readers 