Braxton has spent six years running from his past and the memories that haunt him. The loss of the girl who owns his heart and his best friend unleashed the dark in him. Part of a world of crime and murder, Brax knows he’s reached a breaking point and something’s got to give. He has to find her. Isabelle. The girl he’s loved since she saved him that fateful day when they were nothing more than just kids. The day she went away was the day he lost his heart. That was the day he became everyone’s worst nightmare.
He became a monster.
He is hated, feared, and has nothing left to live for.
Isabelle has lived the last six years of her life without hope and in total isolation. Now she finds herself in the clutches of evil with no way out.
All she dreams of is to be reunited with the one boy who showed her what it means to truly be loved. Without him, she’s surrendered herself to an existence she doesn’t know how to escape.
In a moment that will change both of their lives forever, Brax comes face to face with the girl who, for six years, captured his heart. He is unable to ignore the buried desires and the hope for the future they dreamed they’d have.
Can he save the girl he once lost, or will the fight cost him more than he could ever imagine?
Rachael Tonks is a contemporary romance author with a love of books, and a particular love of the romance genre. As a child Rachael could always be found with her head in a book, but it wasn’t until the beginning of 2015 when Rachael’s love of books really took over. Reading spurred on her desires to put pen to paper, and write down the story of the characters screaming for their story to be told. Starting out her career with a new adult romance novel, she has now published multiple novels, ranging from dark romance to contemporary. Rachael lives in the steely suburb of Sheffield, in the north of England with her family. She has 3 beautiful children and a crazy dog. She loves nothing more reading with a good cup of tea and is self-proclaimed chocoholic!
“Megan Erickson knows how to bring the heat! With a kick-butt heroine and a hero to die for, Blood Guard kept me reading all night long.”—New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff
Enter a world of immortal danger and desire—and discover an incredible fate borne of blood.
Tendra: One minute, I’m a bartender in gritty Mission City; the next, I’m whisked away by a vampire named Athan who tells me that I’m the lifeblood of his clan. It sounds unbelievable, but he’s got evidence I can’t deny. Turns out, Athan belongs to an underground society of vampires who feed only on humans with their consent. Their enemies have no such qualms, and they want me dead. The only thing standing in their way is strong, sexy Athan. And the closer we get, the more tempted I am to let Athan feed. . . .
Athan: How could I have known when I snatched this snarky, beautiful human off the streets that she would change my destiny? As a loyal soldier, I must deliver Tendra to our future king—my brother. Empowered with the blood of ten generations of the Gregorie breed, she is fated to rule as our queen. But there’s something between us that’s so intoxicating, so carnal, I can’t help wanting Tendra for myself . . . even if it’s treason.
The panic welled in my chest. I was trapped in a strange apartment with a strange man who probably outweighed me trifold. I opened up my mouth to scream but he held up his hand and said in a deep voice. “You scream, and I’ll just put you to sleep again.”
My jaw snapped shut. I focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. I wanted to thrash and yell, and holler, but he’d somehow knocked me out before and I would be useless if he did it again.
I glanced around. The only light was from a small, dim bare bulb above us. The rest of the room was in shadow. There was nothing I could use for a weapon, not even my shoes. I focused back on the man in front of me. “How’d we get here?”
“I carried you,” he answered, his voice a rumble that I felt down to my bones.
Something moved in the corner of my vision and I peered into the dark. A form materialized, and I must have been dreaming still because Brex was there. He stalked toward me, rubbed against my leg, then sat down by my feet like a feline guard. I tried to be calm, but I was close to losing it. I didn’t date. Was this how people dated now? Maybe it was a thing. “Why is my cat here?”
My captor didn’t move, and half of his face was in shadow. “I brought him.”
“I don’t keep my ID on me, so how’d you know where I live?”
“I didn’t need your ID.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve been watching you.”
Oh, just fucking great. A stalker. I’d be lucky if I made it out of here without him wearing my skin like clothes and my head in a freezer. “Okay, cool. Well, uh, hi. I’m Tendra. I applaud you for your unconventional, um, greeting. Want to untie me? We can go for a drink. I make a mean screwdriver.”
Confusion flickered over his face, then his scowl deepened, like uncertainty angered him. “No.”
I didn’t want to make him mad, but I’d never been great at keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes me opening my mouth was the reason we had to move. “Do you want money? Because I’m sorry to say, you kidnapped the wrong girl. Especially because I just paid rent. I’m eating peanut butter out of the tub for the next week.”
Again with the angry confusion. He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want your money.”
I gritted my teeth. “Well, now you have me here. What do you plan to do to me?” The panic was slowly switching over to anger, the fight instinct my mother instilled in me strong as ever. If he was going to kill me, maybe I could piss him off enough that it would be quick. “Because I’ll tell you right now, I will fight you to my dying breath and then come back from the dead and haunt you until I convince you to cut your own dick off.”
His expression didn’t change. “Charming.”
I was signing my death warrant, but I couldn’t resist getting a shot in. “Fuck you, you creeper.”
His chest rose as he inhaled sharply. “Right, so let’s have it out. I’m your guard, because you’re destined to be delivered to my older brother in order to make our clan stronger.”
I didn’t move. Not an inch. Because holy shit, not only was he a creepy stalker, but he was out of his gourd, too. I couldn’t just have an evil stalker. Oh, no, I had to have a lunatic one, too. Zero of what he said made sense, so I focused on one thing at a time. “Excuse me? Clan? What are you, cavemen?”
I thought he’d take offense, but instead he just looked bored. “No, not cavemen. Vampires.”
And blinked again.
But nope, he was still there. This was still happening. Only me. If I made it out of here alive, what a story I’d have to sell about my stalker who thought he was a vampire. I had visions of the guy trying to bite my neck with his blunt teeth. Which made a giggle bubble up in my throat, which turned into a laugh, which turned into me throwing my head back in hysterical laughter until tears streamed down my cheeks.
When I dropped my head and focused on him through my tears, he was watching me carefully, that impassive expression still on his face.
He reached down and picked up Brex by the scruff of his neck, which immediately ceased any and all amusement on my part. “If you hurt my cat, swear to God—“
Brex yowled and swiped a paw across the man’s face. A thin line of scarlet bloomed on his cheekbone before the man dropped Brex, who scurried off to hide under a small table near an old couch. “Good job, Brex!” I shouted after him. “Now come back and finish the job!”
I turned to my stalker, and whatever I was about to say died in my throat. I watched as the cut sealed up and vanished before my eyes.
No mark, no blood. No nothing.
And those dark eyes were still trained on me.
BITE THE HAND THAT BLEEDS by Megan Erickson is totally FREE!
BLOOD GUARD releases September 12, and to get you in the mood and introduce you to Mission City, here’s a FREE short story that is completely standalone!
I think you’ll want to read about what happens when Roxy heads underground to a vampire club and meets Dru. Spoiler: Sexy stuff happens. A lot of it. Oh, and there are fangs involved.
About the Author:
Megan Erickson is a USA Today bestselling author of romance that sizzles. Her books have a touch of nerd, a dash of humor, and always have a happily ever after. A former journalist, she switched to fiction when she decided she likes writing her own endings better.
She lives in Pennsylvania with her very own nerdy husband and two kids. Although rather fun-sized, she’s been told she has a full-sized personality. When Megan isn’t writing, she’s either lounging with her two cats named after John Hughes characters or… thinking about writing.
The life I live is a dangerous one: I am an outlaw. A proud member of the Unacceptables MC. Our club is a family and we will do anything to protect it – and I mean anything. The dust was finally settling from our last war. I was sober, the MC was healing from our loss, and life was getting back to normal. But regicide cannot go unpunished. And when a newcomer arrives and threatens all that we hold dear…well, he better watch his back, because… I am Trent Laurence. I will stop at nothing to protect what I believe in.
About the Author:
I am just an average twenty-something following my dreams. I have a full time “day job” and by night I am an author. I guess you could say that writing is like my super power (I always wanted one of those). I am the lover of wine, sushi, football and the ocean; that is when I am not wrapped up in the literary world. Please feel free to contact me to chat about my writing, books you think I’d like or just to shoot the, well you know. A portion of all my royalties are donated to The Marcie Mazzola Foundation.
This is Book two (the final book) of the Complicated Hearts Duet. Book one must be read first.
Warning: This book is not for everyone. These characters are flawed and the situation is intense and frustrating. Emotions—all of them—run high. If you’re looking for perfect characters and a perfect story…this book isn’t for you.
This story is strange and unconventional. It’s everything you hate. That’s the only warning I can offer you.
However, Maxwell Sheridan threw that saying out the window the minute he hooked up with his best friend, Alex’s, poisonous ex. The moment he slept with her, he was hooked. Sloppy seconds was not his style, but she was a cruel addiction he couldn’t overcome. He thought his days of betraying his best friends were behind him. But Max learnt the hard way that history had a way of repeating itself.
That was until one moment on a bridge would change it all.
Josephine Faulkner is struggling. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. Life has caused her to grow up. Gone are the wild days, black hair, and dating men her ambassador father would never approve of. But juggling work and life has meant that university hasn’t been high on her priority list.
When Maxwell Sheridan finds her on a bridge, dropping small stones into the lake, a friendship and connection between them blooms.
He offers to tutor her. She offers him her compassion.
But their undeniable attraction and friendship will be tested.
And her name… Andrea Wallace.
With the First Goodbye will be the first of two installments in the saga of Maxwell and Josephine.
About Len Webster:
Len Webster is a romance-loving Melburnian with dreams of finding her version of ‘The One.’ But until that moment happens, she writes. Having just graduated with her BBusCom from Monash University, Len is now busy writing her next romance about how a boy met a girl, and how they fell completely and hopelessly in love.
She is also not a certified explorer, but she’s working on it.
Evie I met him in a snow storm… We spent forty-eight hours trapped in the back of his pickup truck. We fought. We touched. We fell. Hard. Storm She literally crashed into my life… The last thing I wanted was a relationship. Especially with a quirky chick who drove me insane. But something about her got under my skin, and into my heart. And I had to have her. All of her. Now. Falling in love in the back of a truck, just the two of us, was easy. Dealing with psycho fans, jealous exes, and demons from the past….not so easy. While Loving Storm can be enjoyed as a STANDALONE, it is best read after reading Storm
Grab STORM now! FREE with #KindleUnlimited! ONLY 99 pennies!
I have a passion for the bad boys, those covered in tattoos, sexy smirks, ripped jeans, fast cars, motorcycles and of course, the sweet girls that try to tame them and win their hearts. My first novel in the best-selling Ashes & Embers series, Storm, published in September of 2014. I have many books and sequels slated for this series. My new spin-off series, Devils Wolves, launched in 2016 with the best-selling novel, Torn. There are several books planned for this series as well. Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets and spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.
“John Doe” was just another patient. A criminal. As a prison nurse, I knew the rules: do my job, don’t get involved, and never let a prisoner get under my skin. I broke all three. My passion, my obsession, my addiction. I risked my entire life so we could be together. I thought helping him escape from prison would be the hard part. It turns out when you fall in love with a villain, you also turn into one.
⛓ Excerpt ⛓
My hands flex on his skin, but he’s so intent on my response he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Beneath my touch, he turns to granite and a part of me wants to take back my question, but I can’t.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and I hope it deflects from this line of conversation. “Did I hurt you?”
He breaks eye contact and looks down to where my hands are touching his skin. The moment his eyes land on where our bodies connect, it makes me want to drop my hand. How close he always manages to get to me whenever I let curiosity—or stupidity—get the better of me is astounding.
“Would take more than that to hurt me, little mouse.”
I feel his words like dark secrets. They unfurl inside me, a molten mixture of pleasure and shame, a heady combination that invites me to ask for more. He’s a craving I can’t quite shake. A disease slowly spreading through me. My head tells me I should walk away, but my greedy heart begs for more of his illicit attention.
“Little mouse?” I keep my focus on my fingers. Otherwise, they’ll betray my nerves. I swipe antibacterial cream over his skin and realize resistance is practically impossible. Not when I can feel his muscles flexing underneath my hands, the heat coming off him in waves, and my body’s answering thrum.
It has been so long since I’ve felt anything other than violence and fear. The two have become so tightly intertwined that I was certain until now I’d never feel this again. Never feel warmth pooling low in my belly and radiating through my core or the answering wetness slicking between my legs.
Horror accompanies the rush of pleasure, and I want to fling myself backward, but I know I can’t let this dangerous man see my reaction. I can’t let him know the effect he has on me. Can’t let him have that kind of power over me.
“Yes,” he finally says. “Because you always look like you want to scurry away into a corner and hide.”
His words make me want to do exactly that. My eyes dance to the door and then back to my hand as I swipe away another smear of blood from his skin. It would be so easy to escape him and his all-too-knowing stare. The reaction I can’t deny. The yearning. Ten steps would bring me right back to my dreary life where I can drown in the day-to-day misery and the pain that blots out my unfortunate reality.
They are ten steps I don’t take. I refuse to let King get the better of me again and return to doctoring his wounds, trading the wipes for clean, white bandages. Unlike Vic, when this man pressures me, tests my boundaries, I find myself wanting to fight back, wanting to go at him with teeth bared and fists balled.
He lays a big, scratched-up hand over mine, pinning it to the heated flesh of his well-muscled chest. I peer up through my lashes and find the corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smile that would look pleasant on any other man.
On King, it’s a warning.
Or a threat.
My heart thumps in my chest, a rabbit trying to escape the pursuit of a predator. I take deep breaths to try to calm its frenetic pace, but it’s futile while in his presence. I finish the bandage on his chest without taking the bait. Despite how alive he makes me feel, or maybe because of it, I won’t encourage him. I won’t go down that road. I did it once before, and it cost me everything.
I’m waiting for him to throw out another challenge as I finish with his chest and arms, dump the trash into a bag, and set it by the door.
“Can you stand for me?” I gesture with a roll of gauze I grabbed from my bag of supplies. “I need to wrap your ribs until they can get you in for an X-ray.”
He obliges, reminding me of a half-tame animal submitting to human attention only to turn around and rip the person’s throat out seconds later. His abdomen ripples, and the low hum of desire that I’ve steadily been trying to ignore roars back to life made sharper by the edge of danger.
Like fucking in public.
It’s wrong and dirty and you sort of hate yourself for enjoying it so much, but you come harder than you ever have in your life. It makes my breathing grow ragged, and I’m afraid he can hear me but can’t find the willpower to back away.
I have to lean close to wrap the bandage around his chest, which doesn’t help. His scent fills my nose like a drug. My fingers brush against his stomach, and I’d give anything for five minutes to explore the line of muscles that disappears into his waistband.
The fact that I manage to finish binding his ribs is a small miracle. He doesn’t make a move to touch me the entire time, even though I spend it wishing he would. When I’m done, I can feel his eyes on me, patient and predatory as I pack up the rest of my supplies.
“Stop doing that!” I bite out, revealing just how badly he has my nerves frayed.
He gives me that half-grin again. “Doing what?”
“Staring at me like that. Are you trying to piss me off? Do you want me to have you reassigned?”
As though daring me, he takes a step forward. “You won’t do that,” he challenges.
“No?” I retort though I can hear the flimsy note to my voice.
His grin widens. “No.”
I shake my head and feel my body drift closer to his. “I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know what you think we’re doing here, but we shouldn’t. Let’s just get that clear right now. Also, I appreciate your concern for my safety, but there isn’t anything you can do to help me, and this sort of attention is only going to make my situation worse.”
He shifts, and my whole body stiffens as he brings his lips to my cheek where the memory of the bruise throbs.
“Don’t,” I protest, but it comes out sounding more breathy than firm.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says as he closes a bit more of the distance between us. I nearly whimper from frustration, fear, and need. “One kiss. One kiss and I won’t bother you again. No one will have to know.”
“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, but I know from the determined look in his eyes he’s serious. “Why?”
His lips return to my cheek, surprising me with his gentleness, and I’m almost ashamed that my initial instinct is to flinch away from him. He seems to recognize it, and he sighs, pausing long enough to meet my eyes. We wait . . . watching each other. But when he doesn’t follow through with a slap or a biting comment, my traitorous body relaxes.
My body is clearly an idiot.
“C’mon,” he coaxes as his lips grow bolder. “Let me give you this. One kiss. I promise you’ll enjoy it. Let me show you a little something sweet to take away from the sour. One kiss, and if you want me to walk away after I will.”
He’s the devil incarnate, the snake that tempted Eve. Though, I’m sure as hell not in paradise. I hate myself for even considering it. Loathe the way my body shouts at me to say yes.
“You won’t bother me again?” The responding triumphant gleam in his eyes screams that I’ve taken a step off a precipice. There will be no going back after this.
“Scouts honor.” I snort, causing him to grin. “So, is that a yes?”
“You asked me earlier if I wanted to know your name.”
He nods, but it’s a quick, jerky movement. For the first time, he’s the one caught off guard.
“I think I’d like that.” It’ll be like saying goodbye, or at least that’s what I tell myself. Goodbye to the rush of desire, the feeling of being alive. It was fun while it lasted but this level of craziness leads nowhere good.
For a moment, I think my ears are tricking me, but no. King makes a deep, satisfied groan in the back of his throat. I’m so distracted I don’t notice he’s been slowly moving closer until his body is pressed fully against mine. My hands go to his shoulders, and I’m grateful for the bandages separating us. Too much contact with his skin and my brain would surely short circuit.
“Gracin,” he says, his lips so close they graze the shell of my ear. “My name is Gracin.”
Then his mouth covers mine.
⛓ Teasers ⛓
⛓ About Nicole Blanchard ⛓
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Nicole Blanchard lives in Mississippi with her family and their menagerie of animals. She chooses each day to chase her own fairy tale even if they contain their fair share of dragons. She is married to her best friend and owns her own business.
Nicole survives on a diet of too many books and substantial amounts of root beer and slim jims. When not reading, she’s lavishing attention on her family or inhaling every episode of The Walking Dead and The Big Bang Theory.
Linnea May loves to read and write about strong alpha men with loaded bank accounts and skeletons in their closets. Her heroes are as sexy and beautiful as they are broken – only to be fixed by the smart & captivating heroines who cross their paths. Originally from Europe, Linnea currently tries to befriend the lively squirrels in Rhode Island.
I married the bad boy from Brooklyn. The one with the tattoos and the look in his eyes that told me he was bad news. The look that comes with all sorts of warnings. I knew what I was doing. I knew by the way he put his hands on me; how he owned me with his forceful touch. I couldn’t say no to him, not that I wanted to. That was then, and it seems like forever ago. Years later, I’ve grown up and moved on. But he’s still the man I married. Dangerous in ways I don’t like to think about. Sexy as sin, he attracts all the wrong kinds of temptations. The kind that lands a couple like us in the gossip columns. The kind that’s unforgivable. The kind that splits up marriages. I did this to myself. I knew better than to love him. And now I’m fucked. I married the bad boy from Brooklyn. And I don’t know how to survive this.
Willow Winters is so happy to be a USA Today, Wall Street Journal and #1 Contemporary Bestselling Romance Author. She likes her action hot and her bad boys hotter. She certainly doesn’t hold back on either one in her writing!
Willow started writing after having her little girl, Evie, December 2015. All during her pregnancy with Evie she continued to read and she only wanted to read romance. She was reading a book a day — sometimes two.
In January 2016 Willow was staying up late with Evie and just thinking of all these stories. They came to her constantly so she finally sat down and just started writing. She always wanted to do it so she figured, why not? Today Willow cannot be happier for making that decision!
This is an erotica story that contains subject matter that may trigger sensitive readers. All characters are adults and all interactions are consensual also involving f/f and f/f/m. Please enjoy with an open mind.
It was meant to be research, help my writer’s block but it soon became my addiction…
My life was boring and normal until one girl turned my world upside down, making me crave something that is hard to fulfill.
A fetish that helps give me an exploding release.
Going on nights out, I look for those with an open mind, who want that thrill in the bedroom.
But no emotions can be involved.
And I have one rule… I don’t let the guy inside me.
Besides, sex changes things.
I kept this rule until one couple from a dating app made it hard for me to say no, bringing me into a world of lust, want and need.
They want me to join their fantasies, to help them fulfill their desires, but the longer I spend with them, the more I start to get attached.
Already breaking my own rules.
Especially my main one.
I try and stay strong, but every look and every touch, I can feel myself breaking down.
J.L. Ostle was born in Antrim, Northern Ireland, now living in Carlisle, England. J.L. Ostle is a full time mother looking after her cute, active little boy. When she she hasn’t got her head stuck in a book or writing, she’s watching movies, or doing activities with her friends and their children.