He's sexy... He's dangerous... He's right next door.
I gave up everything to save my sister from a monster, and now I’m lying low in this rundown apartment so I can stay out of danger. Hiding from everyone.
Except for the guy in apartment 1A.
He’s rude. Silent. Muscled, mysterious, and hot as hell. I don’t know if he likes me or hates me, but the more time I spend with him, the less it matters.
I want him.
And for the first time in my life I'm going to go after what I want.
She doesn’t belong in my world.
From the second 1B moves in, I know she’s keeping secrets. She doesn’t belong here, much less with a street fighter like me.
But that doesn’t stop me from craving her. Her softness and sweetness. She’s a drug, and suddenly I’m addicted.
I know someone is going to try and hurt her and I can’t let that happen. But unless I push her away and get her out of my world, that someone could be me…
Molly O'Keefe has always known she wanted to be a writer (except when she wanted to be a florist or a chef and the brief period of time when she considered being a cowgirl). And once she got her hands on some romances, she knew exactly what she wanted to write.
She published her first Harlequin romance at age 25 and hasn't looked back. She loves exploring every character's road towards happily ever after.
Originally from a small town outside of Chicago, she went to university in St. Louis where she met and fell in love with the editor of her school newspaper. They followed each other around the world for several years and finally got married and settled down in Toronto, Ontario. They welcomed their son into their family in 2006, and their daughter in 2008. When she's not at the park or cleaning up the toy room, Molly is working hard on her next novel, trying to exercise, stalking Tina Fey on the internet and dreaming of the day she can finish a cup of coffee without interruption.
“Beautifully written, skillfully interwoven, a wonder of a tale. It's not often that I am truly impressed, but Eden Butler has blown me away.” New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Amy Harmon
“Infinite Us is a gripping story of the roots that define us, the hardships that test us, and the healing power of love and acceptance. It's a testament to how far we've come and how very far we have to go.” J.A. DeRouen, Bestselling Author of Low Over High
“Eden is a masterful storyteller who takes mere words and turns them into magic. She takes you on an intoxicating journey that refuses to let go. Infinite Us is an unforgettable story that'll leave you breathless.” Cassie Graham, Bestselling Author of Who Needs Air
"Simultaneously commercial and literary, a thinking person's romance." Christopher Ledbetter, author of "Drawn" from Evernight
“Butler shines again in this emotionally moving tale of love, despite life and its trials and tribulations. The writing is crisp, lyrical and the flat out FEELS between the characters leak from the pages straight into your heart. You WILL be moved.” Trish F. Leger, author of the Amber Druid Series.
Love is timeless…
Nash Nation loves zeroes and ones, over-sized monitors and late office hours. He’s too busy taking over the world to make time for relationships—that is, until his new neighbor Willow O’Bryant barges into his life, and now Nash can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the first time she’s interrupted his world.
Then, the dreams start. And in the dreams—memories.
Memories of a girl named Sookie who couldn’t count on love or friendship, never mind forever. Memories of a library and a boy called Isaac and secrets made in private that destroyed his world.
The memories seem real, but who do they belong to?
When Nash and Willow discover the truth, life as they know it unravels.
The bridge between this life and the next is shored up by blood and bone and memory. Sometimes, that bridge leads to the place we’ve always wanted to be.
It was then that I saw something from Isaac I hadn’t seen before. His stony resolve crumbled and whatever excuses had always kept him from wanting me, from allowing me to act as though I wanted him too, fell away when he began to lower his hand and I held it still against my cheek.
His skin was warm and I could just make out the sharp bite of his calluses against my face. He had an arch along his top lip and eyes like a perfect circle, a play of amber and gold vying for dominance in his irises. Not hazel really, but somewhere in the middle, someplace that said Isaac came from people divergent and varied.
“Riley…” he said, a warning I didn’t want to hear. My gaze didn’t falter; I may have stumbled with Trent, but still, I knew what I wanted, what was best for me, and that was not some overbearing, suit-wearing bully. And Isaac, sweet Isaac, took my lifted chin for the invitation it was, made a sound deep in his throat, and just like that, with a single tilt of his head, stopped fighting and kissed me.
The world went away and I heard the song of hundreds of voices inside of me that sounded so familiar, yet were unlike anything I’d ever heard before. Maybe it was that active imagination of mine working in overdrive. I had wanted Isaac’s touch for months, had daydreamed about it for hours and now that it was here, I realized that my imagination was dull and pathetic. Reality was so much better.
He moved his mouth over mine, tentative at first, but fueled by my reaction and the awesome magnitude of what this felt like, he moved more confidently, more surely. Isaac wanted me and took what I offered freely—his lips soft, directing, his tongue teasing and satisfying all at once, careful of my broken lip yes, but oh, so absolute.
Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Mystery, Suspense and Contemporary Romance novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum.
When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football.
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.
We’re so thrilled to share this sale with you! All three books; Race the Darkness, Hunt the Dawn, and Saving Mercy are on sale for 99¢ (reg $6.15).
RACE THE DARKNESS
Series: Fatal Dreams Series, Book 1
Genre: Dark Romantic Thriller
Cursed with a terrible gift...
Criminal investigator Xander Stone doesn't have to question you-he can hear your thoughts. Scarred by lightning, burdened with a power that gives him no peace, Xander struggles to maintain his sanity against the voice that haunts him day and night-the voice of a woman begging him to save her.
A gift that threatens to engulf them
Isleen Walker has long since given up hope of escape from the nightmare of captivity and torture that is draining her life, her mind, and her soul. Except...there is the man in her feverish dreams, the strangely beautiful man who beckons her to freedom and wholeness. And when he comes, if he comes, it will take all their combined fury and faith to overcome a madman bent on fulfilling a deadly prophecy.
Her gaze locked with his—locked so hard the entire world vanished and all that existed were her and him and his hand feeling the steady beat of her heart. Whatever the fuck she was about to say, he was gonna believe her. She could tell him he was a two-headed, purple squirrel, and he’d go out, find a nut, and climb a tree.
“Xander. I vow to protect you from pain. I vow never to leave you unless you want me to leave. I vow never to hurt you the way Gran hurt your father. Because hurting you would be hurting myself. Your pain is my pain. And my pain is yours. But together we are strong and invincible. Don’t you feel it when we touch? It’s all I can feel. All I want to feel. You and me. Us. Together.”
Her words did more than enter his ears; they melded into him as bone-deep truth. He’d never do anything to hurt her and—damn—he trusted that she wouldn’t hurt him. As sick as it sounded, maybe his faith in her was born from the suffering she’d endured. She understood pain. Understood the depth and damage pain caused in a way few others ever would. That kind of knowledge made her incapable of wounding anyone else.
“Say something. You’re looking at me funny.” Her voice trembled just a bit. He could practically hear her doubting whether she should’ve spoken the words of her heart.
“What you said… Those words…” Christ. He didn’t have experience talking about his feelings. “Everything.”
She cocked her head to the side, questions wrinkling her forehead.
He was screwing this up. “Your words mean everything to me.” He could show her easier than he could tell her. He slid his hands up her neck, framing her face, staring at her, absorbing every detail. “You’re my…” Fearless. He caught himself before he said the word. To base how he felt on a story wasn’t real. She was real. And the emotions warming him were real. “Everything.”
He lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted sweet, of cinnamon and sugar, and for some reason, his heart ached with a fullness of feeling it had never experienced before.
He scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest, his mind flashing back to the day he found her—and to holding her this same way. God, she had weighed so little, had seemed so fragile, but she was strong. Stronger than he’d ever be. Knowing what she’s gone through, what she’d survived—yeah. Strong was too weak a word to describe her.
He carried her up the stairs to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. With a gentleness born of reverence, he settled her on the bed. He broke the kiss to stare at her once more. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, her lips deliciously puffy and pink from a good kissing. He fucking loved pink.
HUNT THE DAWN
Series: Fatal Dreams Series, Book 2 (stand alone)
Genre: Dark Romantic Thriller
Out of darkness and danger…
You can't hide your secrets from Lathan Montgomery-he can read your darkest memories. And while his special abilities are invaluable in the FBI's hunt for a serial killer, he has no way to avoid the pain that brings him. Until he is drawn to courageous, down-on-her-luck Evanee Brown and finds himself able to offer her something he's never offered another human being: himself.
Dawns a unique and powerful love
Nightmares are nothing new to Evanee Brown. But once she meets Lathan, they plummet into the realm of the macabre. Murder victims are reaching from beyond the grave to give Evanee evidence that could help Lathan bring a terrifying killer to justice. Together, they could forge an indomitable partnership to thwart violence, abuse, and death-if they survive the forces that seek to tear them apart.
While he hauled his motorcycle onto the road, he didn’t look away from her. She stood bereft in the middle of the pavement, staring out over the pasture. Emotions infused the air around her. Shame. Hate. Embarrassment. Sadness. Fear. Desperation.
He recognized that tangled combination of scents. Knew them intimately. Knew the feeling of being hurt and vulnerable and powerless to stop the pain. Knew how memories, like the one he witnessed, had left wounds on her soul and Junior had just ripped off all the scabs.
She was raw, bleeding emotionally in front of him and yet holding it together by a spider’s thread. He could see the effort in the way she stood straight and stiff.
Fury simmered low in his gut. After he got her squared away, maybe he’d pay a visit to Junior. Show the asshole what it felt like to be the victim.
He walked the bike to her. After he straddled the seat, he held out his hand to her. She grabbed him, her grip hungry.
“Climb on up.”
She tossed her leg over the seat, using his hand to balance her weight.
He sat at the same time she did, her body settling against his back.
Holy Jesus. He couldn’t activate the ability to think—his brain short-circuited from her nearness. Everything disappeared but the feeling of her open thighs wrapped around his ass with nothing but a tiny pair of black shorts and his jeans between them.
Her sweet musky scent, almost like honey, but better—way better—folded around him like a celestial pair of wings. The scent of her entered his nose, flowed into his lungs, then out to his extremities, spreading a cooling wave of solace that he wanted to savor, but couldn’t. Not with her perched behind him, waiting for him to drive down the road.
He placed her hand against his stomach, pressed it tightly to him. His abdominal muscles twitched under her touch.
“Hold on.” He let go of her hand and she slid her other arm around his waist. She pressed her front to his back, holding as tightly to his body as she’d held his hand. She was a clingy little thing. Not that he minded. Her touch felt like—what was the word he wanted to use—kismet. Exactly as he’d always imagined a lover’s touch. Two pieces fitting perfectly together.
He kicked the machine in gear, trying to ease it forward instead of his normal burst of speed. She rested her head on his spine, nestling her cheek across the fabric of his shirt before settling.
His heart grew, straining against his chest wall, threatening to come up his throat in a shout of
absolute ecstasy.
SAVING MERCY
Series: Fatal Truth Series, Book 1
Genre: Dark Romantic Thriller
He’s found her at last…
Cain Killion knows himself to be a damaged man. His only redeeming quality? The extrasensory connection to blood that he uses to catch killers. His latest case takes a macabre turn when he discovers a familiar and haunting symbol linking the crime to his horrific past—and the one woman who might understand what it means.
Only to lose her to a nightmare
Mercy Ledger is brave, resilient, beautiful—and in terrible danger. The moment Cain finds her the line between good and evil blurs and the only thing clear to them is that they belong together. Love is the antidote for blood—but is their bond strong enough to overcome the madness that stalks them?
The rain came down gray and thick as a shroud, blurring his vision of the world. He flipped on the wipers and pulled out of the hospital parking lot onto the road. Fat blobs of smacked the windshield loud as marbles being tossed against the glass. Was that hail? As if it mattered. His car was trashed.
Cain had covered the passenger seat and all Mac’s blood with a blanket he kept in the trunk. Even though his view of all that crimson was blocked, his mind knew it was there and his eyes kept wandering to the blanket, calling up the image of the dark stickiness coating the seat and the floor. All that blood was playing touchy-feely with his sanity. And he wasn’t in the mood for games.
He drove past a gas station, a fast food restaurant, a person walking alongside the road. His foot hit the brake before his brain had a chance to talk him out of it.
Mercy.
Her hair was slicked to her skull, her clothes—his clothes—were sucked to her body, doing a shitty job of hiding her curves. At least the T-shirt she wore was black, not white. He pulled over to the berm and watched her in the rearview mirror.
She stopped walking, stared at the car—knew it was him—but didn’t move. Could he blame her for not wanting to be around him after what he’d said to her? Not really. And yet, he couldn’t leave her alone and walking in the rain with Payne still out there. Not to mention that she didn’t have anyone or anywhere to go.
She still hadn’t moved from her spot. He left the car running, opened his door and got out. The rain slapped him—frigid, bordering on icy, soaking his clothes and dripping in his eyes. The pressure of it hitting the wounds in his bicep and shoulder made him wince. But that was all the attention he’d give to the pain.
“Get in the car.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest, lifted her head, and somehow managed to stare down her nose at him even though she was almost a foot shorter. “No.” She said the word as if it didn’t matter that they were standing in the middle of a downpour.
“Get in the goddamned car.” This time the words came out loud and angry sounding. Like that was going to win her over. What was his problem?
“Fuck you.” She looked miserable—all wet and shivery and yet feisty and taking none of his crap.
He should soften his tone. He should try to be nicer. He should, but his inner asshole seemed attracted to her inner bitch. “Where are you going? No where. You don’t have anywhere to go. You don’t have any money. You don’t have friends.” His voice softened and filled with some emotion he couldn’t name. “You don’t have anyone looking out for you, caring for you, able to help you in a pinch. You got no one.” He sucked in a breath and when he spoke next his voice was soft and pleading. “Except me.”
The moment he finished speaking he wanted to retract every goddamned one of those words he’d spoken. “I’m…Shit…” He ran a hand through his soaking hair. “Goddamn it. I’m a dick. Okay?” He softened his tone. “Now will you please get in the car?”
Her shoulders straightened, her chin lifted, and she walked forward without looking at him. He expecting her to stomp past the car, but she yanked open the passenger door and got in. Seconds passed where he just stood here, getting even more wet, and staring at the back of her head poking above the headrest.
“Now what?” He asked himself. Just what was he going to do with her? Drop her on Dolan? Yes. No. Yes. No. No. No. The last time he tried dropping her on someone she’d almost gotten hurt. If Mac hadn’t been able to keep her safe, he sure as shit wasn’t going to trust Dolan with her.
He got back in car. Every inch of him soaked. He brushed his hair back off his face and wiped the water from his eyes.
She stared out the passenger window, refusing to look at him. He reached over and touched her shoulder. Underneath his hand, her body tensed, then trembled. Shit. Was he scaring her?
He wrenched his hand off her and wanted to use the damned thing to slap himself around a little. Maybe then he’d get it through his stupid brain that she was fucking frightened of him. Too many words flooded his mind and he didn’t know which ones to say. The I’m-sorry ones. The I-won’t-hurt-you ones. The I’m-an-asshole ones. The I-don’t-know-what-to-do ones.
She turned to him. Rain slicked her cheeks. Or was that tears? Her beautiful eyes were the color of tropical waters—deep and fathomless. He held up his hands in a show of surrender and she flew across the console at him.
He closed his eyes, braced for the blows, but none came.
Instead, slender arms wrapped around him, her hair, cold and wet dripped against his chest, but her cheek over his heart was warm—so warm.
Maybe he’d had a stroke or something because this felt like she was hugging him. And that couldn’t be. Could it? He opened his eyes and looked down at her.
Yep. She was wound tight around the front of him. And suddenly his brain let him feel the total sensation of it. Of being held tight as if he mattered to her. He let his arms fall around her and squeezed, pressing her tighter to him. Damn, this felt good. She felt good. It was oddly comforting to have her clinging on to him so tight.
He closed his eyes and memorized the pressure of her arms around him and the way her hands pressed into his back. The way she felt in his arms, the subtle ripple of her spine and ribs underneath his fingers, the way her skin felt warm against his when every other part of him was cold.
If he’d been given a Stop Time button. This was the moment he would’ve used it. Here, holding her—the gentle lullaby of rain playing in the background—was the only perfect moment of his entire life.
About Abbie Roads
Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. By night she writes dark, emotional novels always giving her characters the happy ending she wishes for all her clients. SAVING MERCY is the first book in her new Fatal Truth Series of dark, gritty, romantic suspense with a psychological twist.
Have you not yet met Roman Cavenaugh, or do you want to share him with a friend? USA Today bestselling author J.L. Berg's BEHIND CLOSED DOORS is on sale for just .99c for a very limited time! Find out more about BEHIND CLOSED DOORS below:
About BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
My name is Roman Cavenaugh and I’m kind of an asshole.
Running a company isn't easy, especially when everyone expects you to fail, so being a jerk? It comes with the territory.
I don't have time to mess around, and I sure as hell didn’t see her coming.
Cara Hamilton—she was supposed to be off limits…a temporary employee brought in during my assistant’s maternity leave.
But, in the blink of an eye, she became so much more.
An obsession I couldn’t shake.
So yeah, I may be an asshole, but now, I finally had a purpose, and soon, she would be mine.
All’s fair in love and war…
"Can I ask you something?" she said, drawing my attention away from the monotony on my computer screen. I looked up to find her eyes dead set on mine. It was unnerving.
She usually tried to avoid direct eye contact with me. Maybe I intimidated her. Perhaps she found me attractive and the idea of lusting after her boss bothered her.
Believe me, it bothered me too.
In a very physical way.
“Go ahead,” I answered, unwilling to break the intimate connection she'd started.
"When you saw me… at the club that night," she said, her eyes wavering just slightly. "What was it you saw in me? I mean, was it just the clothes?"
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even though I'd said we'd never speak of what happened that drunken night two weeks ago, I saw something in her eyes that needed an answer.
That needed something more.
"Why are you asking?"
"It's nothing, sorry. I'm being stupid," she backpedaled, as she began fiddling with the hem of her skirt.
Looking back at our few interactions, I suddenly noticed the difference in how she'd acted today. Her normal never-ending stream of word vomit was there, but behind it, there was an internal struggle going on. The hemline wasn't the first thing she'd fidgeted with. I'd watched as she'd pulled at the collar of her shirt and then, as if she'd realized what she had done was wrong, quickly lay it flat again.
"Does this have something to do with the way you're dressed today?"
Pink tinged her cheeks once again.
"You noticed?"
I simply nodded, not trusting myself with words in that moment.
Because I’d more than noticed. It’d been damn hard not to think about anything but.
"A gift from my boyfriend," she replied. "He said my old clothes didn't fit in with our new life style. It was a very generous gift," she added, never forgetting that politeness she'd no doubt been taught since birth.
"But?" I questioned, waiting for her to continue.
"But… I don't feel like me anymore," she finally admitted.
"And I'm guessing the night in the club was another gift of his as well?"
It was her turn to nod.
I could see the indecision and worry gnawing at her. Someone like her, sweet, honest and good… she was meant for better things than a life with a man who didn't appreciate her.
Leaning forward, I made sure she saw the sincerity burning in my eyes as I spoke. "That night in the club, I'll admit, I noticed the dress first."
She opened her lips to speak but I held up my hand to stop her, wanting to make my point.
"And today, when you walked in, I couldn't help but give a second… or third glance at the way that new skirt hugged your ass."
Her eyes widened at my blatant honesty.
"So yes, the clothes may grab my attention for a moment or two, but the fact that I'm still interested, two weeks later? That's you, Cara. That’s all you.”
And just like that, I'd crossed the line.
I’d hit on an employee.
And there was no going back from that.
About J.L. Berg
J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series, The Walls Duet, and the Lost & Found Duet. She is a California native living in the beautiful state of historic Virginia. Married to her high school sweetheart, they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she's not writing, you will find her with her nose stuck in a romance novel, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
Sleep then My Princess is an emotional thriller set in Arizona. While mourning the death of her husband, Senior Tissue Engineer, Stephani Robbins, is plagued by recurring visions of a child being locked up in a chicken coop. Meanwhile, someone is sending her creepy love poems, roses, and photos that have been taken without Stephani's knowledge.
As more photos appear, the police suspect that Stephani has hired someone to take these photos. She before she can convince the police to take her seriously she is kidnapped. While imprisoned she discovers why she has been having these visions and it is more chilling than she ever imagined. Can she make it out alive?
"...gut wrenching tale that thriller lovers don't want to miss." ~5 Star Review by Carissa (Goodreads)
"...this story is an emotional pulse-pounding thriller that you won't want to miss." ~ 5 Star Review by Jason (Goodreads)
The seed for my thriller Sleep then My Princess was planted many years ago when I was nine-years-old. Our family went to visit friends. My parents were sitting at their friends' dining table after they had enjoyed a typical Eastern European lunch and the discussion was about a woman who lived across the road from these friends. A woman was minding a pre-school age child. This child slept in the chicken shed at night summer and winter and was only cleaned up before her mother came to pick her up on Friday evening. I was shocked as were my parents.
