All my life I’ve been hiding, until there is no corner on this god-forsaken earth left for me to hide. I have to pay for the sins of my father. No one with Ellison blood in their veins is allowed to live, and I am the last of my bloodline.
I am kept in a container waiting for my death sentence to be carried out, when he comes. He is only known as ‘Predator’. No one knows who he works for, only that he leaves no one alive.
His every breath is filled with the last gasp of his dying prey.
But for some reason he doesn’t kill me.
I don’t know which is worse, the death sentence hanging over my head, or being at his mercy.
“Look at me, Cara,” and he waits until I do, “love is such a flawed thing. You can love someone but still leave them. What I feel for you goes way beyond that one word. I’m addicted to you. I feel protective of you. I breathe for you.” His eyes caress my face and follow the tears into my hair. “Love is really such a flawed word for what I feel. I live for you.”
Author Bio
Michelle Horst is from a small town in South Africa.
She's been in love with reading from an early age. She has a passion for books, quotes and animals.
She first tried her hand at writing in early 2009 and as the first words started to form into a book, she knew she was hooked.
Dreams spilled onto pages, and that was the beginning of a wonderful journey. A journey filled with joy, passion and heart stopping moments. Most of all, it's filled with such pride and peace as a story comes to life, and characters fill your life, living in the very walls of your mind, living in the minds of your readers.
Thank you to each and every reader and for choosing to escape in one of my books.
Cupcake queen Jules Rockwell has sworn off men. All men. Because heartbreak is a bitch. But when sexy chef Cal McKenzie shows up in town - with a soft as butter Scottish accent and abs you could lick frosting off - she wonders if maybe a no-strings fling is exactly what she needs.
Then she finds out the truth: he’s opening up his own rival bakery, right down the street from her store. Her sexy fling is now her #1 competition - and Jules never backs down from a fight.
Cal McKenzie doesn’t play by the rules. His sex appeal and chocolate eclairs are a deadly combination, and he’s got his eye on worldwide pastry domination - but he didn’t reckon on Jules. Full of wit and spice, she's more than just a sexy hook-up. But as their chemistry heats up, so does their rivalry. With her heart and her career on the line, Jules isn't sure she can risk it all again.
She's been burned before. Will this fling satisfy both of their cravings?
Bella Cruise is a Florida girl turned California beach babe. She loves to travel and explore new places, and currently works as a nanny to two adorable little girls.
One look was all it took for fifteen-year-old June Withers to fall in love with Jake Daniels. One moment was all it took for the river’s current to take everything from them.
June would have done anything for Jake. The two were inseparable. He was going to run away to be with her. Then, his abusive father destroyed their happiness.
Years later, June sits down to write a review for the band Silent Tides and is floored when she comes face to face with Lucas the keyboardist. Lucas looks so familiar; the resemblance to Jake is uncanny.
June falls fast and hard for Lucas, but she continuously questions her feelings for him, unsure if they are because he reminds her of Jake or because of who he is.
Just when June thinks she’s found happiness with Lucas, she loses him too. Their new love is torn apart, clouded in a veil of deceit and lies, shattering June.
Six years pass and June feels like she finally has found peace in her life. Once again, it’s ripped wide open when she comes face to face with a love from her past.
I remember a moment like this. One where it felt like the entire universe paused and shifted right under my feet. A moment where a truth changed everything. At this moment, I am altered.
Jake Daniels is standing in front of me.
“No, I can’t believe it,” I say with a fierceness I didn’t know I was capable of.
“Listen, I know there’s some damage, but don't worry we’ll get it fixed,” Stout says in an easy going voice.
My body is locked tight ignoring Stout, my eyes are locked hard on Jake.
“Juniper,” Jake’s voice is soft as he sets down the wrench in his hand and takes a careful step towards me. Careful like he's afraid I’ll bolt, like he sees something in my eyes that he isn’t quite sure of. It’s an emotion he has never seen before on me; straight incomprehensible fury.
“Don’t you dare ‘Juniper’ me. You lost that right you son of a bitch!” I hiss and watch Jake freeze in his step. “You Goddamn motherfucking...” I don’t finish. The anger I feel towards him overwhelms me. I lunge for him and smack him as hard as I can. He’s taller than me by a lot and I have to reach to hit him. I claw and scratch. Kick and punch. I’m so angry.
“Twenty-five minutes from us. You’re twenty-five minutes.” I’m hysterical.
Jake lets me get hits in on him, then says, “Enough.” His voice is darker and deeper than I remember. He scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing.
“Boss, need a few,” he says like I’m not pounding on his back and screaming.
“Put me down, Jake Daniels!”
“Feisty one huh, Jake,” Stout chuckles, then says, “take all the time you need.”
Jake walks us up a set of metal stairs and through a door. My world is flipped upside down when he rights me and deposits me on the edge of a desk, then wraps his arms tightly around me, including my arms so that I can’t move.
“Calm down, June,” he says.
I breathe in and out, deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I won’t look at Jake. I can’t. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll get drawn right back into him. My eyes are trained on a certification award on the wall behind the desk. My body is rigid. I try not to think about the fact that I am in Jake’s arms and his beautiful masculine scent is surrounding me. Instead, I focus on my behavior and try to get it under control. I’ve thought about how I would be if I saw him again, but no way did those thoughts include me going batshit crazy.
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Author Bio
Abby McCarthy is reader and a lover of words. She is a blogger turned author and released her first novel in May 2014. She is a mother of three, a wife and a dog person. She has always written, sometimes poetry, sometimes just to vent about failed relationships, however in parenthood she has found her voice to help keep her sanity. Words have flowed from her, to review and with the support of amazing friends in the Indie community she has decided to pursue her dream of writing! She loves to write and read romance, because isn't that something we all yearn for? Whether it be flowers and hand holding or just the right tug on your hair. Isn't that what life is about? The human connection?
We’ve traveled down a bumpy road, but we’ve finally found the balance.
It’s time to bring a new little rock star into our lives.
I’m Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock, and this is the next chapter in our story.
Loving two people is never easy, and Tommy Blade fights every day to ensure that his wife and his lover know that he loves them both equally. A commitment ceremony solidifies their pledge to one another and brings them closer together. Jessi Blade is a lucky girl. With animosity behind them, she and Angel share a more intimate relationship and their lives flourish. She has everything she ever wanted—except a baby.
Angel Garcia never thought he’d share his life with a woman, no less marry one in a commitment ceremony. When a baby joins their family, it makes him realize how much Jessi really means to him.
The road Tommy, Jessi and Angel travel is never an easy one. Just when they’re at their happiest, an accident may very well change the course of their lives.
When Angel looked up, there was a shadow behind him and then a cool piece of cloth covered his eyes. He smiled into the blackness. “What are you doing, mi amor? Is this your way of telling me you want a spanking?”
“It’s not your prince,” Jessi whispered in his ear.
The small hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he stood perfectly still. Jessi didn’t initiate playtime with the flogger, and there was an eagerness in her voice that alerted his senses. He tried to lift the scarf from across his eyes, but she pulled it tighter and tied it behind his head. A shiver ran down his back, all the way to his toes. Another set of hands unbuckled his belt and pulled his slacks down to his ankles. He kicked off his shoes, and someone helped him step out of his pants. These two had something in store for him, and he entertained a few possible scenarios in his head. His imagination traveled down paths that weren’t in his comfort zone. Although he loved to dish out a little rough play, he was rarely on the receiving end. “What are you two up to?”
“Shh. No talking.” It was Jessi, which somehow made him more nervous. He knew Tommy’s boundaries, but Jessi was a risk taker. Jessi delved into new experiences without the fear of the unknown to hold her back.
A hand on each of his upper arms guided him to their bed, but he needed no direction around the room. He could easily navigate freely on the darkest of nights. Every piece of furniture was mapped into his memory, from the four-poster bed to Tommy’s guitar stand in the far right corner and Jessi slippers that were always strewn on the floor next to her side of the bed.
He crawled across the mattress on his hands and knees and someone snatched his briefs, leaving him with just his white dress shirt held together by a lone button. A firm hand—Tommy’s—came down on his bare butt cheek without warning. It lit up Angel’s cock with an arousing start. Two smaller hands—Jessi’s—took hold of his shirt and yanked it off his shoulders. The sole button popped from its thread and hit the floor with a ting before it scuttled away.
The spike of a high-heeled shoe hit him in the center of his back and flattened him against the mattress. It stabbed at his spine. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but his cock grew thicker. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t talk back to my wife.”
Angel loved Tommy’s bossy mouth, and he relaxed under the pressure of Jessi’s foot. She gave him one final poke in the ass with her heel before she kicked her shoes over the side of the bed.
“Front or back?” she asked.
“Front.” Tommy answered before Angel had a chance to answer the question. “I want to see his face when we have fun with him.”
Jenna Galicki writes in multiple genres including m/m/f, m/f, and m/m. She is predominantly known for her Radical Rock Stars Series. The Prince of Punk Rock (Radical Rock Stars Book 1) was a finalist in the Best Bisexual Romance category, chosen by the Bi Writers Association.
Jenna is a strong advocate for LGBT rights and marriage equality. She volunteers with God's Love We Deliver, delivering meals to people with HIV and AIDS and other life threatening illnesses. She actively raises money and participates in AIDS Walk New York and is a proud sponsor of Children International.
She lives in Long Island, NY with her husband and two dogs. She is a rottweiler enthusiast and an avid music buff. When she's not hunched over a computer, you can find her front row at a rock concert.
Lowen Seely has a criminal record to prove it. Determined not to follow in his father’s footsteps, he fights instinct and tries honesty. But hunger becomes painful, and bills are due. Forced to choose between what is right and wrong, the boy from the hood learns abiding by the rules is nearly impossible when corruption is in your blood.
Falling for an outlaw has changed everything.
Poesy Ashby is the definition of ride or die, even when it means turning her back on freedom. The girl from the suburbs gives conformity the middle finger. Bonnie and Clyde have nothing on her love story.
On the run with consequences in the rearview mirror, Lowen and Poesy accept the truth: they are the bad guys.
“Keep the engine running,” I say. “If I’m not out in five minutes, leave.” Poe nods her head, but doesn’t argue. When the nine o’clock hour comes, both she and I watch the clock on the dashboard turn to one minute after. “You’ll need to keep your mask on, Poesy. Make sure none of your hair is showing,” I say. “Keep your head down the entire time.” “Okay,” she answers in a small voice. “If you see cops—” “I know what to do, Lowen. I know you want me to leave you.” She sighs. “But I don’t know if I can.” Despite our circumstances, I smirk. “Hopefully you won’t have to.” At nine thirty, Poe and I switch seats, and she gets behind the wheel while I load the pistol. With hands that shake uncontrollably, I place the ski mask over my head but don’t pull it down my face. I help Poesy with hers, tucking in every stray strand of hair so they remain unseen. She grabs my wrist, and our eyes meet. I see fear combined with love and loyalty in her stare. I kiss her knuckles and promise with the chance of lying, “We’re going to be okay.” Unlike when we drove into the garage, the streets are alive and filled with a variety of automobiles, and dirty sidewalks carry several pedestrians. The forty-second drive to the bank feels like forty years. Thick blood courses through my veins, and I feel it flow through arteries and vessels, nourishing muscle and bone. My head echoes with the thump, thump, thump of my hard heartbeat. Every breath is shallower than the one before it. “Pull down your mask,” I say, but my voice sounds foreign and feels a million miles away. As Poe drives into California Credit Union’s parking lot, I grip the cold steel in my hand. The edges of my vision blur; I’m blinded by adrenaline. My skin crawls like I’m covered in spiders; I’m delirious with edginess. “Your ski mask,” Poesy shrieks. “Cover your fucking face, Lowen.” My girl reaches over and pulls it down for me. The car stops to a screeching halt, and reality crashes into me in a brutal rush, stripping me of air and voice. “If we’re in this, you need to go,” Poesy says in a calm but stern tone, hidden behind her black mask. There’s peace in her eyes. There’s strength in the girl who stayed with me when I was locked up. The one who’s remained by my side, believing and starving all at the same time. With the gun in my hand and determination in my heart, I leave Poesy in the car and push open the glass double doors into the bank. As I step foot onto the burgundy carpet, I yell, “Everyone down on the fucking floor!”
Author Bio
Mary Elizabeth is an up and coming author who finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets.
Known as The Realist, Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She's a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it's perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she's not letting go until every story is told.
