Meet Killian in Pepper Winter’s new MC Romance!
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Blurb
"We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . ."
RUIN & RULE
She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she's lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .
He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.
Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?
Prologue
We met in a nightmare.
The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.
There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.
Just us. In our silent dreamworld.
That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.
We fell in love. We fell hard.
In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.
But then we woke up.
And it was over.
Chapter One
I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.
—Kill
[ORN_SB]
Darkness.
That was my world now. Literally and physically.
The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.
Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.
I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.
Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.
Fear never helps, only hinders.
My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.
Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.
Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?
Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.
It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.
My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.
I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.
I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.
Get through this, then worry about them.
I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.
Had I been at a party? Nightclub?
Nothing.
I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…
No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.
I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.
I tried to swallow.
No saliva.
I tried to speak.
No voice.
I tried to remember what happened.
I tried to remember…
Panic.
Nothing.
I can’t remember.
“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”
I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.
I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.
“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.
“Call me the moment you get there.”
“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—
The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.
Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?
“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.
Unfortunately.
My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.
My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.
This was real.
This is real.
My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.
I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.
Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.
I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.
But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.
The pushing stopped. So did I.
Big mistake.
“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?
Bare feet?
Where are my shoes?
The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.
Where did I come from?
How did I end up here?
What’s my name?
It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.
How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?
Who am I?
To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.
“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.
“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.
“Again.”
I obeyed.
“Last one.”
I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.
My face.
What do I look like?
A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.
“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?
Why…why is that so familiar?
I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.
“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.
My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.
Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.
Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”
“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.
“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”
Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.
Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.
Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.
I fell.
My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.
Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.
My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.
I’m a vet.
The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.
I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.
Tell me! Show me. Who am I?
I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.
I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.
That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.
Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.
I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?
Another body landed on top of mine.
I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.
The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.
Why aren’t I crying?
I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.
My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.
My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.
I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.
“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”
The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.
Immense power. Colossal power.
A shiver darted over my skin.
“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.
A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.
“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.
“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”
“I am. Have been for the past four years.”
“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”
Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.
The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”
Another moan.
“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”
Another tremor ran down my back.
Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”
“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”
My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.
The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.
A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”
The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”
I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.
A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.
Murder.
Murder was committed right before me.
The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.
Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.
I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.
I’m a witness.
And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.
I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.
My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?
The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.
Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.
“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”
“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”
“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”
Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.
He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.
Needed.
I need to know who he is.
Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.
The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.
I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.
I needed proof that this was real.
I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.
I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.
The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.
I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.
The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.
He’s hurt.
The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.
Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.
Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.
I’m alive.
I can see.
The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.
Then my life ended as our gazes connected.
Green to green.
I have green eyes.
Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.
My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.
The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.
I quivered. I quaked.
Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.
Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.
Him.
A nightmare come to life.
A nightmare I wanted to live.
If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.
Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.
He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”
My heart raced. Yes.
“You know me,” I breathed.
The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.
He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.
I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”
When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.
I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.
With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.
I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.
I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.
This was him.
My nightmare.
About the Author:
Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed
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Toxic is LIVE!!!
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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not...
New York Times bestselling author Kim Karr turns up the heat in a smoking hot, emotionally compelling new novel that takes you into the world of Manhattan’s elite.
In Toxic, Jeremy McQueen, a sexy, intense, sometimes brooding entrepreneur goes after what he wants—the woman he left behind years ago. Phoebe St. Claire, a put together, in control socialite-turned-CEO has been drifting through life searching for something she thought she'd never find again—the right man to share her future.
Our passion was boundless. Our lust untamed. And our desire endless. He was the only man who ever made me feel alive. Then, I betrayed him.
When he reappeared, I didn’t question it. Trust rarely survives the wrecking ball, so when he let me in back in—I didn’t hesitate.
Maybe I should have.
What began as a bid to save my family business, turned into a second chance at love. It felt so romantic. Working together, side by side, with the man I loved. My dream come true.
Nothing is as good as it seems.
We had our issues, but then again, every couple does. It wasn’t jealousy, or our too-hot sex life that I should have been worried about.
It was his darkside.
I never saw the end coming, until it slammed me in the face. The question is—did he?
Was revenge his plan all along?
****
Sometimes you have to wonder if your life is too good to be true.
Is it real or just an illusion?
Does the man lying beside you really love you like he says he does?
If the answer is yes, you’re meant to live happily ever after.
If the answer is no, you’re living my life, and nothing will ever be the same.
What you do about it—that’s up to you.
Me, I’m in too deep and there’s no getting out.
I’ll take whatever I can get for as long as I can because I know when it’s over…
I’ll never find another man like him.
Ever!
New York Times bestselling author Kim Karr turns up the heat in a smoking hot, emotionally compelling new novel that takes you into the world of Manhattan’s elite.
In Toxic, Jeremy McQueen, a sexy, intense, sometimes brooding entrepreneur goes after what he wants—the woman he left behind years ago. Phoebe St. Claire, a put together, in control socialite-turned-CEO has been drifting through life searching for something she thought she'd never find again—the right man to share her future.
Our passion was boundless. Our lust untamed. And our desire endless. He was the only man who ever made me feel alive. Then, I betrayed him.
When he reappeared, I didn’t question it. Trust rarely survives the wrecking ball, so when he let me in back in—I didn’t hesitate.
Maybe I should have.
What began as a bid to save my family business, turned into a second chance at love. It felt so romantic. Working together, side by side, with the man I loved. My dream come true.
Nothing is as good as it seems.
We had our issues, but then again, every couple does. It wasn’t jealousy, or our too-hot sex life that I should have been worried about.
It was his darkside.
I never saw the end coming, until it slammed me in the face. The question is—did he?
Was revenge his plan all along?
****
Sometimes you have to wonder if your life is too good to be true.
Is it real or just an illusion?
Does the man lying beside you really love you like he says he does?
If the answer is yes, you’re meant to live happily ever after.
If the answer is no, you’re living my life, and nothing will ever be the same.
What you do about it—that’s up to you.
Me, I’m in too deep and there’s no getting out.
I’ll take whatever I can get for as long as I can because I know when it’s over…
I’ll never find another man like him.
Ever!
Ashley's Review
~Hot, sizzling 4 stars ~
You can't control who you love. Sometimes this is discovered at a young age and sticks with you no matter the result of life. When you find the one your heart never forgets.
When Jeremy McQueen and Phoebe St. Claire meet, it is under false pretenses, but they quickly form a bond and fall hard for each other. When all the labels are stripped away, Phoebe is able to be who she wants to be, not who society dictates.
But when five years have passed, will Jeremy and Phoebe still feel the same about each other?
I loved Jeremy and Phoebe! A unique twist on the modern day romance tale, both characters stole my heart. Phoebe's circle of friends reminds me of characters found in The Breakfast Club and Friends, each having their own unique personality but watching out for each other.
Jeremy's transformation from young adult to successful business owner was a refreshing character instead of the typical douche bag CEO.
While society may have labeled these two as opposites attract, the soul knows when you find that one true love. Not very many people get a second chance to explore that unique love.
This is a standalone second-chance romance novel without a cliffhanger.
I highly recommend this to all hopeless romantic readers!
You can't control who you love. Sometimes this is discovered at a young age and sticks with you no matter the result of life. When you find the one your heart never forgets.
When Jeremy McQueen and Phoebe St. Claire meet, it is under false pretenses, but they quickly form a bond and fall hard for each other. When all the labels are stripped away, Phoebe is able to be who she wants to be, not who society dictates.
But when five years have passed, will Jeremy and Phoebe still feel the same about each other?
I loved Jeremy and Phoebe! A unique twist on the modern day romance tale, both characters stole my heart. Phoebe's circle of friends reminds me of characters found in The Breakfast Club and Friends, each having their own unique personality but watching out for each other.
Jeremy's transformation from young adult to successful business owner was a refreshing character instead of the typical douche bag CEO.
While society may have labeled these two as opposites attract, the soul knows when you find that one true love. Not very many people get a second chance to explore that unique love.
This is a standalone second-chance romance novel without a cliffhanger.
I highly recommend this to all hopeless romantic readers!
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Title: Relinquish (Embrace, #1)
Author: S.E. Dean
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release
Date: July 7, 2015
Date: July 7, 2015
Synopsis
Kingston “King” James is THE male supermodel. He’s at the top of his game, yet he’s bored. Money and fame come easy, women even easier — until her. She’s everything he thought never existed…
For Phoenix Ryan every day is a reminder of heartache, of all the agony that poisons her soul. She’ll go to any length to appear strong, including convincing herself that she’s actually living —until him.
He’s everything she can’t stand…
As their lives relentlessly cross will they give in?
Will they Relinquish?
Buy The
Book
Book
Excerpt
KINGSTON
Quickly sitting up to hide my half-mast cock is a mistake — all I see are long, tan, athletic legs. They look smooth as silk, muscles tight, and all I can think about is how I want to run my tongue up the back of her calves, behind her knee, around her inner thigh, and up to her short, little, black
shorts — cock rock hard. Lifting my eyes to punish myself further, Coop decides now would be a great time to be protector and starts barking at the fuckable tan skin in front of me.
Rubbing my temples as I beg for mercy from the pounding Coop is causing in my skull is interrupted by a deep voice. Above me I see a ripped dude with his shirt off and tucked into the hip of his mesh shorts staring down at me. Man, it must be nice not to give a shit who sees you out and not having
to hide to be “normal” for a day. My envy of this shit-brick house pisses me the fuck off, so I ignore his friendly tone and stand up to leave when a set of emerald eyes
lock onto me, making my feet heavy as cement.
About The
Author
Author
SE Dean lives in the Midwest with her husband, two small children, and their bed-hogging dog, Harley. To add to the craziness, last year she decided to go back to school to fulfill a dream
of a graduate degree in nursing, and is currently striving towards that goal (pass the coffee and antacid please!). Her love of romance novels led her to writing, and she has plans for many more books in the future.
of a graduate degree in nursing, and is currently striving towards that goal (pass the coffee and antacid please!). Her love of romance novels led her to writing, and she has plans for many more books in the future.
If SE isn’t working, studying, or being a “super-hero mom” (as dubbed by her eldest – no pressure!
Thanks kid!), you can often find her gulping down her beloved Starbucks, glued to her Kindle reading a saucy book, offering free sarcastic comments, cheering on her favorite basketball team, or watching titillating movies.
Thanks kid!), you can often find her gulping down her beloved Starbucks, glued to her Kindle reading a saucy book, offering free sarcastic comments, cheering on her favorite basketball team, or watching titillating movies.
SE is currently working on the next book in the Embrace series, and can’t wait to share the story with
you!
you!
Giveaway
Title: Memorized
Author: Alyne Roberts
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 7, 2015
Synopsis
The boy who remembers everything.
I heard she is finally going home today. The brain is
very powerful. Her mind is unable to handle the memories of what happened, so it
blocked it out. As I watch her, I envy her. I wish I could forget, just wipe away all the
ugly and the bad. I’m not as lucky as the pretty, lost girl.
I would gladly trade places with her. She has no idea
how good forgetting can be.
The girl who forgot everything.
I’m going home today. There is nothing the hospital
can do to help me remember the last three years. They say I was attacked, but I can't
help them find who it was. They say I'll eventually regain my memories but, it takes
time. What happens when you run out of time? Regaining my memory becomes a
deadly game of life or death.
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Excerpt
Landon
I now have Willow against the brick wall. I put my
hand on her shoulder to feel how tense she is. Lightly running my hand down her
arm, I reach her fingers and loosen the neck of the violin from her grip. I set it to the
ground gently and do the same to her bow in the opposite hand.
I lightly massage her palms and she gasps. I'm only
inches from her body. Her lips are parted and her eyes are wide. I close the distance
so my chest is flush against hers. I feel her everywhere we touch. She's soft, warm,
and giving me a buzz.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
I don't answer. Instead, I run one hand up the inside
of her arm. Goosebumps follow the two fingers I trail lightly over her skin. My hand
curves over her shoulder just as her breathing quickens. I stare down at her eyes
where the pupils are so large that the green has disappeared.
"Landon," she whispers.
"Willow," I tease back. My hand moves over her
collarbone and wraps around the back of her neck.
She's trapped in my hold. Pinned to the brick behind
her, she hasn't made a move to break free. Her eyelids get heavy and her look is
hooded. When I lick my lips, she watches the movement. I love the way she looks
right now. She's in a trance, spellbound, and only looking at me. I lean forward, my
stare narrowing on her pink lips.
For the first time, I'm imagining a future. Always so
busy replaying the past, I never look forward. I'm picturing my mouth covering hers.
I'm imagining what she would taste like and the sound she would make when I
flicked my tongue against hers. When I see her swallow hard, I see myself kissing
down the soft skin of her throat. I let myself play out a scenario where we keep
going. I hear her moans, see her squeezing her thighs together. She pants and arches
her body into mine.
"Landon. Don't," she breathes across my lips.
"Please."
Memorized by Alyne RobertsMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
~4.5 Stars~
Fantastic stand alone featuring mystery, love, and finding ones true self.
I heard she is finally going home today. The brain is very powerful. Her mind is unable to handle the memories of what happened, so it blocked it out. As I watch her, I envy her. I wish I could forget, just wipe away all the ugly and the bad. I’m not as lucky as the pretty, lost girl.
I would gladly trade places with her. She has no idea how good forgetting can be.
The girl who forgot everything.
I’m going home today. There is nothing the hospital can do to help me remember the last three years. They say I was attacked, but I can't help them find who it was. They say I'll eventually regain my memories but, it takes time. What happens when you run out of time? Regaining my memory becomes a deadly game of life or death.
When Willow wakes up in a hospital, she has forgotten the last 3 years of her life. With no family and far from her hometown, she can only rely on the one person nurses say have been by her side the whole time, Noah. How can she trust a stranger to help recover her memory?
I have read other books by Alyne Roberts and this is by far my favorite. The characters are well developed and the plot refreshingly unique. Willow's transformation throughout the story is one of internal struggle and learning how to live in the moment.
Landon's character is intriguing as he remembers everything. I could not imagine having every memory always at the forefront of my mind. Despite always wanting to distance himself from people, his compassion for Willow allows him to realize some memories are worth reliving.
I will be recommending this book to all my reading friends. With the book world encased in series books, this standalone is much needed in our community.
Ashley
Book Crazy Gals
View all my reviews
About The
Author
Author
Alyne lives in Ohio with her husband, dog and cat.
Working full time in an office all day, she spends her nights reading, writing or
watching an entire TV series in a night. She refuses to grow up and loves Disney
movies and anything with owls. She couldn't live without her coffee or her furry
"children".
Alyne wrote her first novel titled "Light to the
Darkness" in 2014, followed by the Conflicted Encounters Series.
To stay up to date on what Alyne is working on,
teasers and more: Sign up for the newsletter.
She loves to connect with readers so feel free to
stalk her!
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The unexpected love story that began in MANWHORE continues heating up the pages in MANWHORE +1 by New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans...
Billionaire playboy? Check.
Ruthless businessman? Check.
Absolutely sinful? Check.
Malcolm Saint was an assignment. A story. A beautiful, difficult man I was supposed to uncover for a racy exposé.
I intended to reveal him, his secrets, his lifestyle--not let him reveal me. But my head was overtaken by my heart and suddenly nothing could stop me from falling. I fell for him, and I fell hard.
Malcolm Saint is absolute Sin, and I've become a hopeless Sinner.
Now that the assignment is over, Saint wants something from me--something unexpected--and I want this wicked playboy's heart. But how can I prove to the man who trusts no one that I'm worthy of becoming his plus one?
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