"I started LOST so other families would have a choice, so they could find their loved ones and not have to face the monsters out there." A muscle flexed in his jaw. "I didn't want them pushed to the edge the same way I was, because when you're pushed too far —"
"There's no going back," she finished softly.
"There's no going back," she finished softly.
────── ♔ ──────
Broken by Cynthia Eden
Standalone - LOST #1
Release - March 31, 2015
Genre - Romantic Suspense / amnesia / serial killer
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Length - 384 pages
Publisher - Avon Books
Release - March 31, 2015
Genre - Romantic Suspense / amnesia / serial killer
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Length - 384 pages
Publisher - Avon Books
Ex-SEAL and LOST founder Gabe Spencer is accustomed to the unusual in his job. But when knockout Eve Gray steps into his office, he's rattled. For the mysterious woman is a dead ringer for the heiress thought to be the latest prey of the serial killer who goes by the name Lady Killer.
When Eve awoke in an Atlanta hospital, her past was a blank slate. Then she recognized her own face in the newspaper and vowed to learn the truth. Determined to confront the nightmares hidden in her mind, she never expects to find a partner in Gabe.
As Gabe and Eve work together, their explosive attraction becomes irresistible. Gabe knows that his desire for Eve is growing too strong, bordering on a dangerous obsession, but nothing pulls him away from her. And when another Eve lookalike disappears, Gabe vows to protect Eve at all costs. While Eve may have forgotten the killer in her past, it's clear he hasn't forgotten her.
Purchase Links
My Two Cents
4 "He's closer than you think" stars
When you wake up with horrific scars and no memory of how you got them, the best thing to do is to consult a professional. And that's just what Eve did. She knew that she had survived something terrifying, but whether she was the only surviving victim of a prolific serial killer or just a woman who fell into something rough... she just didn't know. Gabe was the man to call. He had dedicated his life to finding those who were gone without a trace. Finding out who Eve really is might be the only thing that saves her life.
I found a lot of enjoyment with this story. There were a wealth of suspects, at least in my mind, and I loved how the author didn't give me enough to draw my conclusions too early. I honestly didn't know who the killer could be. All I knew was that he was creepy and scary and somewhat hilarious.
While the relationship developed pretty quickly between Gabe and Eve, it worked. They were in an intense situation, which would obviously draw out some intense emotions. The way they worked together, without the heroine trying some crazy stunts, only made me enjoy this story more.
Excerpt
“Do you think I’m a con artist or a victim?”
“I think you’re a woman who has been hurt.” No denying that. “One of my team members, Wade Monroe, is contacting the Montgomery family. We’ll get DNA from them and find out—”
“If I’m Jessica.” There was hope in the words. Enough hope to break his heart.
Gabe nodded.
“When will we know?”
It would take a few days, even with the strings that he could pull. “As soon as possible,” he said, not wanting to give her a specific timetable.
“Thank you.” Then, just like that, she was across the car, giving him a tight hug. “Thank you.”
His arms wrapped around her, an instinctive response. She smelled faintly of flowers, a sweet scent that teased his nose, and her body was soft against his.
She tried to pull away, as if realizing what she’d just done.
For an instant he was tempted to hold her, to keep her close.
She’s a client. Focus.
He let her go, but his body ached.
“I … um … I should get inside.”
Yes, she should. While he was still clutching tight to his control. The control that said he shouldn’t push her. Shouldn’t want her so much. Not when she’d already been hurt so badly.
Her fingers reached for the door.
“Let me,” he said, voice rumbling, and Gabe climbed from the Jag. In seconds he was on the passenger side, opening her door for her. She rose, and her body brushed against his.
He stepped back. Distance. He seriously needed to put some distance between then. But even with some fast steps back, he could still smell that light and sexy scent that clung to her body. And he still wanted her.
“Your shrink asked me a lot of questions about you,” Eve told him as she stood temptingly close.
Gabe inclined his head. “I’m sure—”
“I think she wanted to know why I respond so much to you.”
Oh, hell, she’d just said … He cleared his throat even as part of his body surged in quick response to her. “It’s a tense situation, you’re—”
“You don’t look at me as if I’m a victim.”
He stopped talking.
“I mean, you know what I am, but you still look at me and seem to just see me … as a woman.”
“Others see you the same way.” Doc Tyler sure did. Bastard.
“It’s different with you,” she murmured as she stepped even closer to him. Her head had tilted back so she could look into his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ve felt for other men before.”
Why did the idea of others have his body knotting with tension?
“But I know that when I see you, I want.” A hushed confession. “I just … I needed to tell you that.”
And he needed to make his self-control a hell of a lot stronger. Her lips were just inches from his, and he wanted her mouth beneath his. Wanted her lips open. Needed to taste her.
“You’re the first man I’ve wanted since I opened my eyes in that hospital.”
He could actually feel his control splintering. Client. Cli—
“You probably don’t want me. I—I might not be your type.”
Now her gaze had fallen, as if in embarrassment. Had she really just asked if she was his type? She was probably every damn man’s type.
“But you make me feel normal again, so I had to tell you—”
His fingers curved under her chin. “Eve …”
Her smile was a little too big. Too bright. “I don’t think I can handle anything else right now, I’m …” She pulled away. Stumbled onto the sidewalk. “I just wanted to tell you how I felt,” she told him again.
Then she walked into the shelter, her steps hurried. As if she were running.
From him.
He stared after her. She wanted him.
And she was so f--king beyond his reach.
“I think you’re a woman who has been hurt.” No denying that. “One of my team members, Wade Monroe, is contacting the Montgomery family. We’ll get DNA from them and find out—”
“If I’m Jessica.” There was hope in the words. Enough hope to break his heart.
Gabe nodded.
“When will we know?”
It would take a few days, even with the strings that he could pull. “As soon as possible,” he said, not wanting to give her a specific timetable.
“Thank you.” Then, just like that, she was across the car, giving him a tight hug. “Thank you.”
His arms wrapped around her, an instinctive response. She smelled faintly of flowers, a sweet scent that teased his nose, and her body was soft against his.
She tried to pull away, as if realizing what she’d just done.
For an instant he was tempted to hold her, to keep her close.
She’s a client. Focus.
He let her go, but his body ached.
“I … um … I should get inside.”
Yes, she should. While he was still clutching tight to his control. The control that said he shouldn’t push her. Shouldn’t want her so much. Not when she’d already been hurt so badly.
Her fingers reached for the door.
“Let me,” he said, voice rumbling, and Gabe climbed from the Jag. In seconds he was on the passenger side, opening her door for her. She rose, and her body brushed against his.
He stepped back. Distance. He seriously needed to put some distance between then. But even with some fast steps back, he could still smell that light and sexy scent that clung to her body. And he still wanted her.
“Your shrink asked me a lot of questions about you,” Eve told him as she stood temptingly close.
Gabe inclined his head. “I’m sure—”
“I think she wanted to know why I respond so much to you.”
Oh, hell, she’d just said … He cleared his throat even as part of his body surged in quick response to her. “It’s a tense situation, you’re—”
“You don’t look at me as if I’m a victim.”
He stopped talking.
“I mean, you know what I am, but you still look at me and seem to just see me … as a woman.”
“Others see you the same way.” Doc Tyler sure did. Bastard.
“It’s different with you,” she murmured as she stepped even closer to him. Her head had tilted back so she could look into his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ve felt for other men before.”
Why did the idea of others have his body knotting with tension?
“But I know that when I see you, I want.” A hushed confession. “I just … I needed to tell you that.”
And he needed to make his self-control a hell of a lot stronger. Her lips were just inches from his, and he wanted her mouth beneath his. Wanted her lips open. Needed to taste her.
“You’re the first man I’ve wanted since I opened my eyes in that hospital.”
He could actually feel his control splintering. Client. Cli—
“You probably don’t want me. I—I might not be your type.”
Now her gaze had fallen, as if in embarrassment. Had she really just asked if she was his type? She was probably every damn man’s type.
“But you make me feel normal again, so I had to tell you—”
His fingers curved under her chin. “Eve …”
Her smile was a little too big. Too bright. “I don’t think I can handle anything else right now, I’m …” She pulled away. Stumbled onto the sidewalk. “I just wanted to tell you how I felt,” she told him again.
Then she walked into the shelter, her steps hurried. As if she were running.
From him.
He stared after her. She wanted him.
And she was so f--king beyond his reach.
About the Author
Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes sexy tales of contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and paranormal romance. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader best-seller. Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia has written over one hundred novels and novellas.
Cynthia lives along the Alabama Gulf Coast. She loves romance novels, horror movies, and chocolate. Her favorite hobbies including hiking in the mountains (searching for waterfalls) and spelunking.
Visit http://www.cynthiaeden.com/ for more information!
The man was downright drop-dead gorgeous.
I'm talking, beautiful, not going to change my mind that he's the sexiest thing in the world, better than the hero in my favorite book, stunning.
I'm talking, beautiful, not going to change my mind that he's the sexiest thing in the world, better than the hero in my favorite book, stunning.
────── ♔ ──────
Shakedown by Lani Lynn Vale
Rating: ALL THE STARS!!
Standalone - Souls Chapel Revenants MC #8
Release - November 9, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance with suspense elements / instant connection
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 4 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (thank you Uplifting Author Services)
Page Count - 259
Publisher - Indie
Standalone - Souls Chapel Revenants MC #8
Release - November 9, 2021
Genre - Contemporary Romance with suspense elements / instant connection
Dual POV - 1st person
Heat Level - 4 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - eARC provided by the author (thank you Uplifting Author Services)
Page Count - 259
Publisher - Indie
Wanted: someone to hand feed me Doritos so my hands don’t get orange. No weirdos.
Belle Pena was an editor. Not a writer.
When her brothers challenge her to create a dating profile, she makes up the most random biography she can think of. She never, not ever, thought she’d find anybody to respond. But she was sorely mistaken.
Sadly, she finds that she has way more interest than she ever could’ve imagined.
But only one profile catches her eye.
Bruno never meant to take the dating app seriously. Being the last single man in his band of misfits, he’s happy being the odd man out. Women spelled trouble, and he had enough trouble in his life to last him through the next decade.
Only his newfound family doesn’t feel the same. One innocent ‘sure’ has the women of the Souls Chapel Revenants MC creating him a dating profile that is too spot on to be comfortable. And just when he decides to delete the app entirely, a particular face catches his eye.
One innocent question of ‘Belle is that you? Do you remember punching me in the throat in high school?’ has him stepping into trouble neck deep, and he doesn’t even realize it until it’s too late.
Purchase Links
Amazon ~ https://amzn.to/3BX40re
Apple ~ https://apple.co/3Cm2q36
Nook ~ https://bit.ly/3hIWGZo
Kobo ~ https://bit.ly/3hIhmAy
Audio ~ https://amzn.to/3ERPz9M
Apple ~ https://apple.co/3Cm2q36
Nook ~ https://bit.ly/3hIWGZo
Kobo ~ https://bit.ly/3hIhmAy
Audio ~ https://amzn.to/3ERPz9M
My Two Cents
We're at the end of the road and it's coming like LLV saved the best for last. How could anyone resist the charms and wiles of Bruno? Especially when he wasn't trying to be charming lol. He was kinda churlish and brooding and monosyllabic... and utterly delicious!
I always feel bad objectifying these characters, but then I remind myself that they're fictional and I ain't really hurting anyone and seriously... I can't help but be honest about how I feel... and all is right in my world again.
Bruno had taken some lumps in his life. He was destined for some greatness. And how awesome was it that his happiness was with Belle Pena?!
I feel like the author delivered two great characters, both deserving of blessings, and so much more. I loved how the Pena family popped in (Hi guys!!) and I loved how Bruno's chosen family was on point each and every time he needed them. And that epilogue... I'm sad to see them all go, but the author gave one amazing send off.
Check out the other books of this series:
Excerpt
Bruno
“Why Farmers Only?” I asked, wincing when I read the website’s name.
“Bruno, you have pigs. You’re a farmer. This is perfect,” Six assured me. “It’ll work out great. You can invite your date out to meet you at your farm. Y’all can go feed all of the animals. Then you can cook her dinner.”
I looked at Six.
“I don’t want to do this,” I told her bluntly.
“If you do this, I’ll never bring up you leaving me behind again,” Six declared.
I stared at her, wondering if her words were true.
I’d do just about anything for her to never bring that up again.
A long time ago, when we were in high school, her father had given me an ultimatum.
Leave Six alone, and never contact her again, or he’d make Six’s life a living hell.
The bad thing was, I knew that he could do it.
So like any dumbass seventeen-year-old, I’d done it.
I’d left her behind, gone my own way, and had never looked back.
At least, for appearance’s sake anyway, that was what I did.
In reality, I kept an eye on her from a distance, making sure that she was always okay.
At least, until Lynn, the man that might as well be my very own father, had taken a liking to her.
Then Six had come back into my life with a vengeance, and ever since she and Lynn had married, I’d found it almost impossible to get back into her good graces.
Which, might I add, was bullshit.
I’d done it for her.
Sure, once I’d ‘grown up’ I could’ve come back into her life, but who the hell would want an ex-con in their life?
I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone like me in Six’s life.
Hell, it was bad enough that I had to allow her husband, Lynn, to have a part of her life. If anything, Lynn was worse than I was.
But at least he loved her and would protect her.
That was more than I’d done for her.
“That’s not going to matter to him, honey,” Lynn said. “He believes that he deserves your ire, so he won’t care if you stop.”
That was true.
I did deserve her ire.
I’d left her, like she’d said.
Then again, I’d left a lot of people behind in my thirty-two years. Six was just one of many.
“Fine,” she said. “Then just do it because I want you to be happy.”
My eye started to twitch.
“I’m an ex-con, Six,” I said. “No woman’s going to want anything to do with me on Farmers Only. Or any website for that matter.”
Six rolled her eyes. “Bruno, you’re hot, successful, and you’re unattached. Trust me when I say that any woman is going to go for you, ex-con status or not.”
I sighed.
“I shot and killed someone. On purpose. There was no ‘oh, I might or might not have been high on adrenaline because he beat up my sister.’ I shot and killed someone. On. Purpose. People don’t just get over that because I’m hot,” I argued.
“You shot someone because you had to.” She waved my worry away. “And trust me when I say, someone out there will understand.”
Hell, I didn’t even understand.
And I’d been the one to do the shooting.
Granted, the guy had been a piece of shit.
He’d raped three women. He’d beat up his own mother. And he’d all but maimed a two-year-old with his careless actions.
But that wasn’t my reasoning for killing the piece of shit.
Hell, I hadn’t even known about all of that other stuff.
I’d known that the motherfucker had tried to kill me because of some suspected slight, and I’d had no other choice but to shoot him and suffer the consequences. That was it. Me or him.
I’d chosen me.
And then I’d spent the next eighteen months behind bars until the parole board had learned of all the other shit that the man had done in his life. Then they’d been all, ‘Oh, no. We need heroes like you on the outside.’ Which was a bunch of shit.
I was no hero.
“Are you even listening to me?” Six snapped.
“You know he’s not listening to you.” Catori, one of my brothers’ wives, chuckled.
“Where is your cut?” another woman asked. “You can’t take a picture like that. You have to have your cut on.”
I looked over to find Swayze, Trick’s wife, staring at me with her phone in her hand.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because leather and bikers go hand in hand,” she said. “If you don’t have your cut on, nobody will know that you’re in a club. And being in a club automatically ratchets up the hotness factor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It got dirty. Had to have it dry-cleaned.”
In all honesty, it got blood on it, and I’d had to douse it down with the water hose before taking it to the dry cleaners to see if they could salvage it.
If not, I might or might not need to find a new one.
I was hoping that it came out, though.
Or, at least, when I wore it, it didn’t look like I’d tie-dyed it in blood.
“Well that’s just stupid,” Swayze grumbled as she put her phone down.
“I have one from last week,” Blaise called out, pumping her fist into the air as if she’d hit the jackpot. “And he looks good in it. He’s not even scowling!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, that one’s perfect. Send it to me.” Six was still typing away at the computer. “What do you think of this biography for a profile? Hobby pig farmer by day, Souls Chapel Revenant MC by night. Thirty-two-year-old man looking for a woman that isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Anybody that can’t manage that need not reply.”
“I think we should add this…” Wyett suggested as she rattled off her idea of edits.
I sighed and sipped my beer, wondering idly how long it would take to get dinner figured out.
I was ready to go home.
Today had been long, and my fucking knuckles were aching.
Even worse, I think my back was acting up again.
I’d have to make another appointment at the chiropractor. The one that was scared of me.
Yay.
“Ohhh.” One of the ladies laughed, catching my attention.
“Oh, here’s one for you.” Six dissolved into laughter, turning the computer screen my way.
Wanted: Man to feed me Doritos so my fingers don’t get orange. No weirdos.
My ideal match: No animals, no kids, no annoying voices, doesn’t like beaches, can deal with me not talking, and doesn’t mind when I talk down to you or that I’m smarter than you. Also, it’d be ideal if you don’t like to cuddle, because my body temperature runs hot, and I don’t generally like people touching me skin to skin. Is blunt and doesn’t try to use sarcasm. Won’t try to get me to go out to places where there is a large group setting.
Again, no weirdos.
“This chick sounds like she’s perfect for you.” Six clicked on the photo, but she didn’t need to.
I’d seen the photo.
The woman was gorgeous.
Though I couldn’t see her height, I could make out other things.
She was curled up in a chair that looked like a cocoon of sorts. One with really tall sides, big, poofy cushions, and it was all hanging from a contraption from the ceiling.
She had her knees crisscrossed in front of her, and she was wearing a baggy white t-shirt, black horn-rimmed glasses, and had a book partially in front of her face.
That book happened to be one of my favorites.
Captain’s Fury by Jim Butcher.
In all honesty, that was the very first thing to catch my eye.
Her hair, which was so fuckin’ curly that I knew if I tried to run my fingers through it, they’d get caught at least a dozen times.
“She’s perfect,” Crockett declared. “Message her. But don’t make it weird. Make it… sweet.”
“Bruno’s not sweet,” one of the boys, likely Sin, called out. “Don’t make him come off as sweet. The chick will definitely know that it wasn’t him that wrote it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Messaged her. Let’s see what she says.” Six squealed, clapping her hands.
I sighed.
“Oh, she already messaged back. Oh my God. She said, ‘Hell no.’”
My brows lifted at that.
“Oh, she’s perfect. I just know it.” Six snickered.
“Oh my God. I knew she looked familiar! That’s Belle Pena! One of my good friends! Sorry, Bruno. But there’s no way in hell that she’s going to agree to date you. She has a type,” Beckham said as she settled her son, Hiro, more firmly on her shoulder.
She looked like she was lagging, though.
I bent forward and caught the kid before Beckham, who really was interested in this whole mess, dropped her own kid.
Beckham didn’t even notice that she was giving him away to me before she was insinuating herself into the bullshit.
I tipped back the beer and settled the kid more solidly on my shoulder.
He snuggled in deep, buried his face in my neck, and promptly sneezed all down my neck.
Gross.
“Why Farmers Only?” I asked, wincing when I read the website’s name.
“Bruno, you have pigs. You’re a farmer. This is perfect,” Six assured me. “It’ll work out great. You can invite your date out to meet you at your farm. Y’all can go feed all of the animals. Then you can cook her dinner.”
I looked at Six.
“I don’t want to do this,” I told her bluntly.
“If you do this, I’ll never bring up you leaving me behind again,” Six declared.
I stared at her, wondering if her words were true.
I’d do just about anything for her to never bring that up again.
A long time ago, when we were in high school, her father had given me an ultimatum.
Leave Six alone, and never contact her again, or he’d make Six’s life a living hell.
The bad thing was, I knew that he could do it.
So like any dumbass seventeen-year-old, I’d done it.
I’d left her behind, gone my own way, and had never looked back.
At least, for appearance’s sake anyway, that was what I did.
In reality, I kept an eye on her from a distance, making sure that she was always okay.
At least, until Lynn, the man that might as well be my very own father, had taken a liking to her.
Then Six had come back into my life with a vengeance, and ever since she and Lynn had married, I’d found it almost impossible to get back into her good graces.
Which, might I add, was bullshit.
I’d done it for her.
Sure, once I’d ‘grown up’ I could’ve come back into her life, but who the hell would want an ex-con in their life?
I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone like me in Six’s life.
Hell, it was bad enough that I had to allow her husband, Lynn, to have a part of her life. If anything, Lynn was worse than I was.
But at least he loved her and would protect her.
That was more than I’d done for her.
“That’s not going to matter to him, honey,” Lynn said. “He believes that he deserves your ire, so he won’t care if you stop.”
That was true.
I did deserve her ire.
I’d left her, like she’d said.
Then again, I’d left a lot of people behind in my thirty-two years. Six was just one of many.
“Fine,” she said. “Then just do it because I want you to be happy.”
My eye started to twitch.
“I’m an ex-con, Six,” I said. “No woman’s going to want anything to do with me on Farmers Only. Or any website for that matter.”
Six rolled her eyes. “Bruno, you’re hot, successful, and you’re unattached. Trust me when I say that any woman is going to go for you, ex-con status or not.”
I sighed.
“I shot and killed someone. On purpose. There was no ‘oh, I might or might not have been high on adrenaline because he beat up my sister.’ I shot and killed someone. On. Purpose. People don’t just get over that because I’m hot,” I argued.
“You shot someone because you had to.” She waved my worry away. “And trust me when I say, someone out there will understand.”
Hell, I didn’t even understand.
And I’d been the one to do the shooting.
Granted, the guy had been a piece of shit.
He’d raped three women. He’d beat up his own mother. And he’d all but maimed a two-year-old with his careless actions.
But that wasn’t my reasoning for killing the piece of shit.
Hell, I hadn’t even known about all of that other stuff.
I’d known that the motherfucker had tried to kill me because of some suspected slight, and I’d had no other choice but to shoot him and suffer the consequences. That was it. Me or him.
I’d chosen me.
And then I’d spent the next eighteen months behind bars until the parole board had learned of all the other shit that the man had done in his life. Then they’d been all, ‘Oh, no. We need heroes like you on the outside.’ Which was a bunch of shit.
I was no hero.
“Are you even listening to me?” Six snapped.
“You know he’s not listening to you.” Catori, one of my brothers’ wives, chuckled.
“Where is your cut?” another woman asked. “You can’t take a picture like that. You have to have your cut on.”
I looked over to find Swayze, Trick’s wife, staring at me with her phone in her hand.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because leather and bikers go hand in hand,” she said. “If you don’t have your cut on, nobody will know that you’re in a club. And being in a club automatically ratchets up the hotness factor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It got dirty. Had to have it dry-cleaned.”
In all honesty, it got blood on it, and I’d had to douse it down with the water hose before taking it to the dry cleaners to see if they could salvage it.
If not, I might or might not need to find a new one.
I was hoping that it came out, though.
Or, at least, when I wore it, it didn’t look like I’d tie-dyed it in blood.
“Well that’s just stupid,” Swayze grumbled as she put her phone down.
“I have one from last week,” Blaise called out, pumping her fist into the air as if she’d hit the jackpot. “And he looks good in it. He’s not even scowling!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, that one’s perfect. Send it to me.” Six was still typing away at the computer. “What do you think of this biography for a profile? Hobby pig farmer by day, Souls Chapel Revenant MC by night. Thirty-two-year-old man looking for a woman that isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Anybody that can’t manage that need not reply.”
“I think we should add this…” Wyett suggested as she rattled off her idea of edits.
I sighed and sipped my beer, wondering idly how long it would take to get dinner figured out.
I was ready to go home.
Today had been long, and my fucking knuckles were aching.
Even worse, I think my back was acting up again.
I’d have to make another appointment at the chiropractor. The one that was scared of me.
Yay.
“Ohhh.” One of the ladies laughed, catching my attention.
“Oh, here’s one for you.” Six dissolved into laughter, turning the computer screen my way.
Wanted: Man to feed me Doritos so my fingers don’t get orange. No weirdos.
My ideal match: No animals, no kids, no annoying voices, doesn’t like beaches, can deal with me not talking, and doesn’t mind when I talk down to you or that I’m smarter than you. Also, it’d be ideal if you don’t like to cuddle, because my body temperature runs hot, and I don’t generally like people touching me skin to skin. Is blunt and doesn’t try to use sarcasm. Won’t try to get me to go out to places where there is a large group setting.
Again, no weirdos.
“This chick sounds like she’s perfect for you.” Six clicked on the photo, but she didn’t need to.
I’d seen the photo.
The woman was gorgeous.
Though I couldn’t see her height, I could make out other things.
She was curled up in a chair that looked like a cocoon of sorts. One with really tall sides, big, poofy cushions, and it was all hanging from a contraption from the ceiling.
She had her knees crisscrossed in front of her, and she was wearing a baggy white t-shirt, black horn-rimmed glasses, and had a book partially in front of her face.
That book happened to be one of my favorites.
Captain’s Fury by Jim Butcher.
In all honesty, that was the very first thing to catch my eye.
Her hair, which was so fuckin’ curly that I knew if I tried to run my fingers through it, they’d get caught at least a dozen times.
“She’s perfect,” Crockett declared. “Message her. But don’t make it weird. Make it… sweet.”
“Bruno’s not sweet,” one of the boys, likely Sin, called out. “Don’t make him come off as sweet. The chick will definitely know that it wasn’t him that wrote it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Messaged her. Let’s see what she says.” Six squealed, clapping her hands.
I sighed.
“Oh, she already messaged back. Oh my God. She said, ‘Hell no.’”
My brows lifted at that.
“Oh, she’s perfect. I just know it.” Six snickered.
“Oh my God. I knew she looked familiar! That’s Belle Pena! One of my good friends! Sorry, Bruno. But there’s no way in hell that she’s going to agree to date you. She has a type,” Beckham said as she settled her son, Hiro, more firmly on her shoulder.
She looked like she was lagging, though.
I bent forward and caught the kid before Beckham, who really was interested in this whole mess, dropped her own kid.
Beckham didn’t even notice that she was giving him away to me before she was insinuating herself into the bullshit.
I tipped back the beer and settled the kid more solidly on my shoulder.
He snuggled in deep, buried his face in my neck, and promptly sneezed all down my neck.
Gross.
About the Author
Lani Lynn Vale is married to the love of her life that she met in high school. She fell in love with him because he was wearing baseball pants. Ten years later they have three perfectly crazy children and a cat named Demon who likes to wake her up at ungodly times in the night. They live in the greatest state in the world, Texas. She writes contemporary and romantic suspense, and has a love for all things romance. You can find Lani in front of her computer writing away in her fictional characters world...that is until her husband and kids demand sustenance in the form of food and drink.
Visit https://lanilynnvale.com/ for more information!
Her mind, impressive as it might be, was no match for the combination of her heart and body and their willingness to give everything she had, everything she was, to another being. To Talen.
────── ♔ ──────
Fated by Rebecca Zanetti
Standalone - Dark Protectors #1
Release - March 1, 2011
Genre - Paranormal Romance / Fated Mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Page Count - 336
Publisher - Brava
Release - March 1, 2011
Genre - Paranormal Romance / Fated Mates
Multiple POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / several scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library / I own the paperback
Page Count - 336
Publisher - Brava
Marry Me! Cara Paulsen does not give up easily. A scientist and a single mother, she's used to fighting for what she wants, keeping a cool head, and doing whatever it takes to protect her daughter Janie. But "whatever it takes" has never before included a shotgun wedding to a dangerous-looking stranger with an attitude problem.
Or Else! Sure, the mysterious Talen says that he's there to protect Cara and Janie. He also says that he's a three-hundred-year-old vampire. Of course, the way he touches her, Cara might actually believe he's had that long to practice. . .
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My Two Cents
Although I kind of dabbled before, I truly started my love affair with the Dark Protectors when I read Vampire's Faith. I read that story, fell in love with the world and characters this author created, and knew that I wanted more.
Reading about the next gen made me want to get to know the original heroes better. I went out, bought the paperbacks, and here we are!
And how could I not fall in love with Talen!
Alpha to the extreme, all he wanted to do was keep Cara and her daughter safe. Seriously, what guy puts his life on the line, dedicates his life to protecting someone he doesn't know... when it's not his job? And not only did he take on this duty, but he treated and cared for these two females as if they always belonged to his life. Janie was Cara's daughter, but now she was his. And nothing and no one was going to hurt them on his watch.
I really liked how this story evolved. Now that I know so much, it was fun to see these characters floundering. It's the start of the new war against the Kurjans and I had a blast seeing the Karys brothers unmated and fancy-free.
My only hangup was Cara. She drove me nuts! She was constantly fighting Talen for dominance and supremacy. Babe, you are not stronger or more capable than an immortal. Especially not an immortal who has been dealing with these enemies for centuries!!
"I can keep my daughter safe." Her eyes widened as he laughed. He actually laughed.
Just shut up dummy.
Overall, Fated gave me just what I was looking for — more depth, more plot, more action, more characters, more love.
Excerpt
Cara shook her head, dread pooling in her stomach as Janie left with the director. A slow anger began to burn away the dread. She glared at Talen. “So talk.”
He took a deep breath. “The discovery of your daughter has ended nearly four centuries of peace between my people and the Kurjus.”
“Janie? What people? The Kurjus?”
Talen pursed his lips, a frown settling between his eyes. Shrugging, he yanked a brown contact out of one eye, then the other.
“What the—” she gasped. Luminescent gold eyes glowed like molten lava. She pushed away from the table only to have Talen grasp her wrist, flattening her hand under his.
“Stay. There’s a lot more.” He smirked and rolled her chair closer.
“This is a trick.” She glared at the impossible golden hue, the heat of his hand overpowering the coolness of the table beneath her own.
“No trick, Cara. I am a protector of the Sanguisuga race.”
“Sanguisuga? Isn’t that Latin?” She’d only taken two semesters of the language.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
His grip tightened on her wrist. “Vampire.”
Cara coughed out a laugh. “You’re a vampire?” Her gaze swung to the door. Where was Janie?
Issuing another deep sigh she started to equate with him, he smiled. Two sharp canines instantly emerged.
“Oh God.” Cara struggled to yank back her hand.
“Do I need to bite you for you to believe me?” Interest and something darker wove through him, into her. She fought to block herself from his emotions.
“No. No biting.” Her mind reeled while reality spun away. “This can’t be true.” She shook her head. “But you were out in the sun. It was early, but the sun was out.” This wasn’t happening.
“The sun only bothers the Kurjans, Cara. We’re fine with a day at the beach.”
“They’re vampires, too?”
Talen shrugged. “No. They’re monsters.” His canines retracted.
“But they have fangs and drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“And you drink blood?”
“Only in extreme situations.”
“Extreme?” This couldn’t be happening.
“During a fight or sex.” He voice lowered to the growl he’d uttered just before deepening their earlier kiss. Something skittered through her belly in response.
“Oh.” Her mind flashed, unbidden, to his fangs. And sex. Her heart thumped once. Hard. “Why?” She stopped fighting. For the moment.
“Why what?” His thumb traced heated circles on the pulse point of her wrist, his golden gaze dropping to her neck.
“Why Janie? Why do they want women with odd abilities?”
Talen ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes returning to her face. “Janie’s special. You know that. Her psychic abilities are the strongest we’ve ever seen.”
Cara straightened her spine. As fear cascaded down it. “But how do you know? How did they find her?”
Talen scowled. “Both races can sense such abilities in humans, but we need to be in close proximity to do so. We don’t know how they found Janie. It could’ve been a fluke, but I doubt it.”
“How did you find us?”
“We have sources in the Meridoze gang, we heard about the extraction plan just in time.”
Cara stamped down on the panic fighting to rise. “Your peace has ended?”
“Yes. We were at war for hundreds of years until we both suffered too many losses. A treaty was signed prohibiting any contact with humans.” Talen shrugged. “Peace lasted much longer than anyone predicted.”
Cara narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound sorry peace is over.”
Deceptively normal canines flashed in a grin. “We were made to fight. Plus, living amongst you, yet having no contact has been difficult. We need humans.” Golden heat ran over her face.
“For blood.” Nausea rose within her.
“That too.” His voice lowered.
Everything in her stilled, and even her heart may have stopped for a second. She lacked the focus to block the feelings coming from him now. “What else?” Her voice cracked.
“Both races are born male. Only. Our mates are human. And Cara,” his voice dropped to a rumble, “you’re mine.”
He took a deep breath. “The discovery of your daughter has ended nearly four centuries of peace between my people and the Kurjus.”
“Janie? What people? The Kurjus?”
Talen pursed his lips, a frown settling between his eyes. Shrugging, he yanked a brown contact out of one eye, then the other.
“What the—” she gasped. Luminescent gold eyes glowed like molten lava. She pushed away from the table only to have Talen grasp her wrist, flattening her hand under his.
“Stay. There’s a lot more.” He smirked and rolled her chair closer.
“This is a trick.” She glared at the impossible golden hue, the heat of his hand overpowering the coolness of the table beneath her own.
“No trick, Cara. I am a protector of the Sanguisuga race.”
“Sanguisuga? Isn’t that Latin?” She’d only taken two semesters of the language.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
His grip tightened on her wrist. “Vampire.”
Cara coughed out a laugh. “You’re a vampire?” Her gaze swung to the door. Where was Janie?
Issuing another deep sigh she started to equate with him, he smiled. Two sharp canines instantly emerged.
“Oh God.” Cara struggled to yank back her hand.
“Do I need to bite you for you to believe me?” Interest and something darker wove through him, into her. She fought to block herself from his emotions.
“No. No biting.” Her mind reeled while reality spun away. “This can’t be true.” She shook her head. “But you were out in the sun. It was early, but the sun was out.” This wasn’t happening.
“The sun only bothers the Kurjans, Cara. We’re fine with a day at the beach.”
“They’re vampires, too?”
Talen shrugged. “No. They’re monsters.” His canines retracted.
“But they have fangs and drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“And you drink blood?”
“Only in extreme situations.”
“Extreme?” This couldn’t be happening.
“During a fight or sex.” He voice lowered to the growl he’d uttered just before deepening their earlier kiss. Something skittered through her belly in response.
“Oh.” Her mind flashed, unbidden, to his fangs. And sex. Her heart thumped once. Hard. “Why?” She stopped fighting. For the moment.
“Why what?” His thumb traced heated circles on the pulse point of her wrist, his golden gaze dropping to her neck.
“Why Janie? Why do they want women with odd abilities?”
Talen ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes returning to her face. “Janie’s special. You know that. Her psychic abilities are the strongest we’ve ever seen.”
Cara straightened her spine. As fear cascaded down it. “But how do you know? How did they find her?”
Talen scowled. “Both races can sense such abilities in humans, but we need to be in close proximity to do so. We don’t know how they found Janie. It could’ve been a fluke, but I doubt it.”
“How did you find us?”
“We have sources in the Meridoze gang, we heard about the extraction plan just in time.”
Cara stamped down on the panic fighting to rise. “Your peace has ended?”
“Yes. We were at war for hundreds of years until we both suffered too many losses. A treaty was signed prohibiting any contact with humans.” Talen shrugged. “Peace lasted much longer than anyone predicted.”
Cara narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound sorry peace is over.”
Deceptively normal canines flashed in a grin. “We were made to fight. Plus, living amongst you, yet having no contact has been difficult. We need humans.” Golden heat ran over her face.
“For blood.” Nausea rose within her.
“That too.” His voice lowered.
Everything in her stilled, and even her heart may have stopped for a second. She lacked the focus to block the feelings coming from him now. “What else?” Her voice cracked.
“Both races are born male. Only. Our mates are human. And Cara,” his voice dropped to a rumble, “you’re mine.”
About the Author
Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over forty romantic suspense, dark paranormals, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iBooks bestseller lists. She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own Alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat…and a huge extended family. She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off…and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out. Upcoming series are: The Blood Brothers, The Realm Enforcers and The Scorpius Syndrome.
Visit https://rebeccazanetti.com/ for more information!
Her pleasure was his
and his was hers
and then his again.
and his was hers
and then his again.
────── ♔ ──────
Immortal Angel by Lynsay Sands
Standalone - Argeneau #31
Release - September 29, 2020
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Dual POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Avon
Release - September 29, 2020
Genre - Paranormal Romance / fated mates
Dual POV - 3rd person
Heat Level - 3.5 out of 5 / a few scenes
Format/Source - ebook borrowed from the library
Page Count - 384
Publisher - Avon
For almost two centuries, Ildaria Garcia has been on the run, a trouble magnet with a knack for taking down bad guys. Lately, her vigilante tendencies have drawn unwelcome attention to her fellow Immortals. Forced to relocate, Ildaria is supposed to lay low in a new town. Instead, she quickly entangles herself with six and a half feet of muscular, tattooed trouble.
Joshua James Simpson Guiscard, aka G.G., knows a lot about Immortals—enough to make him wary. Yet from the moment Ildaria walks into his club, he feels desire stronger than anything he’s known. Accepting the fact that they might be life mates is disconcerting. But when her past catches up to them, G.G. faces a choice—confront his demons at last, or lose a passion that’s hot as hell.
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My Two Cents
I've found a new passion for PNR and because of this, I've got recommendations coming at me from pretty much everywhere. And I'm loving it!!
Lynsay Sands is an author that comes up quite a lot on my what-to-read next list so I thought I'd give her a try. Not only did I borrow this book from the library, I also bought a copy of Immortal Nights from Book Outlet. I'm determined to get through what I'm told are some amazing books!
I found Immortal Angel to be a surprising read. I went in with some expectations and some were met... others were not. I figured based on the cover that there would be tons of action, but aside from the very beginning, when Ildaria was going all vigilante, there was no action to be found. It was over and done with pretty quickly, which was a disappointment, however, I enjoyed the romance build and finding out some bits about the Immortal world these characters live in.
Was the concept of these people being vampire supposed to be so vague? They drink blood, they have enhancements, but the word vampire seemed to be something to be avoided. I'm not sure whether I liked that or not.
I thought that the relationship that grew between Ildaria and G.G. was cute, sweet, sexy and ridiculous (at times). I loved meeting all of the characters, I loved the romance, and only wished for something more. The author put a lot of effort into creating Ildaria's back story, which was truly tragic, and I was entertained by G.G.'s reluctance to be turned into an Immortal. I'm not sure what I wanted to be different aside from some action. It just ended up being an okay read for me.
Part of me hopes that Juan finds his true life mate. I felt bad for the guy and I want him to be caught up in happiness too.
I'm looking forward to getting through this author's backlist and falling in love with her characters!
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Professor Straithe is late.”
“Si , but he’s always late,” Ildaria pointed out as she pulled her notebook and a pen from her knapsack and then set the bag on the floor next to her seat.
“Yeah, but he’s really late tonight,” Lydia responded and then added eagerly, “Five more minutes and he’ll be fifteen minutes late. Then we can leave. Class will be canceled and we can hit a bar or something.”
Ildaria shrugged as she opened her notebook to a clean page and predicted, “He’ll walk in one minute before the fifteen-minute point and we’ll be stuck here. He’s done it several times this semester.”
“Yes, he has,” Lydia agreed, sounding deflated now, and then her tone turning irritated she added, “It’s a night class for cripes sake, not a morning class he has to drag his butt out of bed for, yet the man is always late.” She scowled and then muttered bitterly, “And then he’s a boring lecturer when he finally does get here. I swear if he weren’t such a hunk, I’d hate him.”
Ildaria chuckled at the claim. She doubted Lydia had it in her to hate anyone. The woman was just too kind. It was one of the things she liked about her.
“Oh myyyy. What have we here?”
Eyebrows rising, Ildaria glanced around and followed Lydia’s gaze to the top of the tiered lecture hall where two men now stood just inside the door. Both were tall and muscular, dressed in black T-shirts, black jeans, and black leather boots. They were carbon copies of each other . . . from the neck down. Only their faces and hair coloring differed. The Nordic blond had sharp features and an aquiline nose, while the dark-haired man had blunter features. Both were gorgeous. Both also looked lean, mean, and dangerous as they surveyed the class, obviously looking for someone.
“No books, no bags . . . They can’t be students,” Lydia commented, ogling the pair, and then she suggested, “Ooooh, maybe they’re new TAs.”
She was probably already planning on requesting after hours help, Ildaria thought on a sigh and muttered, “Or bloodsucking putas here to execute someone.”
“What?” Lydia turned on her with amusement, but Ildaria just shook her head and stared at the two men, her thoughts racing. She knew exactly who they were—Valerian and Tybo were Enforcers—or rogue hunters as her kind liked to call them. The immortal version of police, sent out by the Immortal Council to hunt down rogue immortals who had been misbehaving. Normal people, or mortals, like Lydia, would have called them vampire hunters if she had any idea that immortals existed. But Lydia didn’t know that.
“What are you doing?” Lydia asked with amazement as she watched her snatch up her bag from the floor and unzip it. “You don’t know those guys, do you?”
Mouth tightening, Ildaria didn’t respond. Instead, she quickly shoved her notebook and pen inside.
“You do know them,” Lydia gasped with mounting excitement. “Oh. You have to introduce me to them.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to meet them. They’re trouble,” Ildaria said bitterly, wondering if she’d be executed at once, or have to wait around for a Council trial before the deed was done.
“The most interesting men are always trouble,” Lydia assured her, gathering her own books with the obvious intention of joining her to meet the men.
Ildaria didn’t waste her breath trying to dissuade her again. Instead, she simply said, “Stay here,” and slipped into the girl’s mind to make her stay. When Lydia immediately relaxed back in her seat and turned to face the front of the class, Ildaria stood, slung her bag over her shoulder and scooted sideways along the row of occupied seats until she reached the stairs. She ascended them quickly, keeping her expression blank now that she was facing the men. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing her worry and fear.
Tybo and Valerian didn’t say a word when she joined them. They merely took up position on either side of her to escort her from the lecture hall and then the building.
It wasn’t until they were outside, walking the dark path toward the parking lot that Tybo spoke.
“You couldn’t resist, could you?”
Ildaria’s shoulders hunched instinctively in a protective move, but she forced them straight again and said firmly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’ve been playing vigilante again,” he accused.
“I haven’t,” Ildaria assured him.
“You were caught on video tossing around some big bastard twice your size,” Valerian informed her, joining the conversation as they reached the parking lot. “It was uploaded onto Twitter or Instagram or something where Mortimer found it. He showed it to Lucian.”
Ildaria sucked in an alarmed breath at that, but insisted, “I wasn’t playing vigilante.” Unsure which incident had been caught on film, she added, “I was walking to my car after class, heard a girl scream and tried to help. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore it?”
“Yes,” Tybo said with exasperation.
Stopping, Ildaria turned on him with disbelief. “So you would have just ignored a woman screaming for help?”
Tybo’s eyes shifted away, telling her that he wouldn’t, but then his gaze returned to her, and he said, “Well, maybe I couldn’t have ignored it, but I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.”
Ildaria opened her mouth to respond, but paused and glanced to the side instead, when a woman’s scream sounded. Her eyes widened with dismay when she saw a struggling, young female being dragged toward the open door of a van at the far end of the parking lot. Ildaria had barely recognized that she was witnessing an abduction when Tybo and Valerian charged past her, racing for the other end of the parking lot at speed. Immortal speed. Inhuman speed.
Instinct almost had Ildaria charging after them, but Tybo’s words were still ringing in her head: Well, maybe I couldn’t have ignored it, but I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.
Her gaze slid around the parking lot, noting a few other university students around. There were still more nearer the buildings. Some of them were alone, some in pairs, some in clusters. Several had started forward as if to help, but were now slowing as they saw Tybo and Valerian charging in. The rest were raising their cell phones. Some were probably just taking pictures, but others were undoubtedly videotaping and there were probably still others that she couldn’t see who were doing both. Such was the world today. Camera phones had changed everything, she thought with a shake of the head, and then Tybo’s words slid through her mind again.
I sure as hell would have made sure I didn’t get caught on video if I did.
Snorting under her breath, Ildaria stayed where she was, pulled out her cell phone, and began to record too.
By the time the excitement was over, and Tybo and Valerian had handed the culprit over to the campus police and the young woman to the care of the EMTs, Ildaria’s phone was back in her pocket and she was leaning against their black SUV, waiting. She knew it was theirs because the license plate was RogueH4.
When they reached her, she commented mildly, “So, you can’t ignore a woman in trouble any more than I can.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tybo muttered, exchanging a chagrined glance with Valerian as he pulled out his key fob and hit the button to unlock the SUV doors.
“Did you notice all the people videotaping?” she asked next.
Both men stopped dead at her words and turned to look around the parking lot. Many of the witnesses who had been filming were gone now, most leaving when the campus police had arrived. But there were still a few watching them with phones out, still recording.
“Damn,” Tybo growled.
Valerian sighed and said, “You take the two on the right side of the parking lot, and I’ll—”
“Don’t bother,” Ildaria interrupted as the pair started to move. “It’s already been uploaded to the net at least once.”
When both of their heads swiveled toward her with alarm, she smiled sweetly. “I tagged Lucian Argeneau on mine. He’s probably looking at it right now.”
“Ah, crap,” Tybo muttered.
“Now you know how I feel,” she said grimly and turned to get into the SUV, leaving them to follow at their leisure. When she finished doing up her seat belt and glanced out, she saw that the two men were still standing beside the vehicle, but with their phones out now. Looking for the video, she supposed with amusement and guessed they’d found at least one version of it when they both began to curse.
Releasing a satisfied little sigh, she leaned back in her seat to wait for them to get over their upset and take her to Lucian. Oddly enough, they didn’t seem as eager to get her there as they had been when they’d pulled her from class. It was a very quiet ride to the Enforcer house, with a lot of angry and accusing glares cast her way.
About the Author
LYNSAY SANDS is the nationally bestselling author who is known for her hysterical historicals as well as the popular Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series. With her witty and charming personality, Sands describes books as, “Waking dreams or stories, tales to amuse, entertain and distract us from everyday life.” She’s been writing stories since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there are occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that’s just a big bonus.
Visit http://www.lynsaysands.net/ for more information
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