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Synopsis

 

Reporter, Bre Hayne, is on the hunt for a story. Finally, her big career break has fallen into her lap, and she has a chance to get the scoop on one of the notoriously private shifters. Not many of them exist, but one Holt Lachlan has put an ad out for a mate, and Bre is up for the challenge. She’ll pretend to be interested, gather intel on him, and then scoot out of Uncertain, Texas just as fast as her old junker truck can speed her back to the news station. But the deeper into the story she goes, the more she realizes maybe Holt isn’t the one who is the monster. Maybe it’s her.

Alligator shifter, Holt Lachlan, is the centre of an unfortunate legend. His family name has been tarnished by these swamps for generations, and he has to go outside of the town to try and find a mate. Desperate for something to occupy his inner animal, he meets up with a spunky beauty named Bre and tells her the rules. The most important rule? Pretend he’s normal. Ignore the growling, don’t pay attention to his eye colour, and definitely don’t go anywhere near the waters of Uncertain’s swamp at night. He’s protective of his territory, but the more he gets to know the bold and beguiling woman who has answered his ad, the more he thinks she just might survive his dark secrets…but will he survive hers?

 

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Title: Spectre
Published by: Shiloh Walker, Inc
Release Date: July 22, 2019
Genre: 

 

 

Synopsis

 

Myth. Monster. Mine. 

​​​​​​​

Spectre 

I wasn’t even a man when I took a life for the first time, although you couldn’t say I was a child. If I’d ever had a childhood, it hadn’t lasted long. My father, may he rot in hell, had seen to that. I took his life as well and that, too, happened before I was old enough to be considered a grown man. I never regretted it for a second.

​​​​​​​That path almost led to my own grave and would have, if I hadn’t stumbled across somebody who was as different from my father as the day was from the night. Sarge had seen the monster lurking inside, so he took control, gave me guidelines, rules, so I wouldn’t be the monster my father had planned.

​​​​​​​It worked. I restrained the worst of my rage and honed the skills that had been drilled into me—theft, stealth… assassination. The broken child ceased to exist and I became Spectre, an assassin spoken of in whispers, hired to take out the worst of humanity.

​​​​​​​Then I was sent to kill her…and my world came to a screeching halt.

​​​​​​​Tia 

​​​​​​​It’s taken a long time, but I finally had a nice, steady routine. I stopped trying to conform to the neurotypicals of the world and found my own normal.

​​​​​​​Normal went out the window when I walked into my kitchen and found a strange (hot), dangerous looking (so fricking hot) man drugging my new dog.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to leap at him like a banshee and attack, but that’s what I did.

​​​​​​​When my attempt to wreck the vehicle was averted, my kidnapper didn’t hurt or threaten me. In fact, he told me he wanted to protect me.

​​​​​​​This (hot) guy had to be crazy. But if he was crazy, what did that make me? Because I believed him. More, I found myself seeing something beyond the rigid, blank mask he wore.

​​​​​​​He kept trying to push me away, but I couldn’t seem to keep my distance. He calls himself a monster…but when I look at him, that isn’t what I see. I just see him…and I know he’s meant to be mine.

​​​​​​​Warning: This isn’t a snuggly, comfy read. The male MC is a hired killer, while the heroine is neuro-atypical. Some dark material is involved—the hero kidnaps the heroine. There’s also violence when he goes on a rampage against those who put a contract on her. Also references of abuse (not against the heroine). Also very graphic, erotic scenes with minor bondage play.

 

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Excerpt

 

“Agree,” he said, his voice practically soundless. “Agree to what I asked, damn it, and call your fucking brother.”

“I’m not here to do whatever the fuck you tell me, dumbass!”

“That’s obvious.”

I sneered at him, a reply forming but it never made it past my lips. His hand curled around the back of my neck and I felt the impact all the way down to my toes. But there was nothing cruel or domineering about—it was…gentle. Protective, even.

But then he moved and his next action wasn’t even close to gentle or protective. He pressed me back against the wall and wedged himself between my thighs, let me feel, up close and personal, that big cock I’d noticed moments earlier.

I sucked in a startled gasp, then let out a hungry mewl before I could stop it.

“Keep pushing,” he whispered against my ear. “Just…keep pushing, Tia.”

He moved against me and I shuddered as his cock dragged over me—thick, heavy, demanding.

“Keep pushing.” He bit my earlobe. “You’re not in your nice, safe world right now with some nice, safe guy you met for drinks at the bar near the aquarium.”

He moved against me a second time, then a third.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. Sensation too intense, too consuming.

I’d never felt anything like it.

“Those nice boys will walk away, Tia.” He reached between us then, cupping me.

I sucked in a breath as he ground the heel of his hand against me.

I tried. I tried to brace myself against the impact of what was coming. His fingers slid lower. Defenseless, I clamped my thighs around his hand and dragged my lids up, staring at him.

“I’m not a nice boy. I’m not nice at all.”

He went to pull away.

And that greedy, needy part of me wailed in denial.

Curling one leg around his hips, I moved my hips against his. “If you’re so fucking not nice…then do it already.”

Casper went rigid.

Before he could pull back, I curled my free arm around his neck and glared at him.

“Stop it,” he said.

“No.” I leaned in and kissed him. I wasn’t very good at kissing. At least, I didn’t think I was. I’d never enjoyed it before. The only time I had enjoyed it had been in the SUV with him—just hours earlier—when he’d been distracting a trucker. I wanted to pretend it was something other than what it was, but I was a lousy liar.

Not even to myself. He was right about that.

I kissed Casper the way he’d kissed me, tracing the line of his mouth with my tongue, catching his lower lip between mine and sucking it between my teeth, then biting down when I felt him shudder.

The heat between us sparked, grew, flamed. He thrust against me again and again and I was starving for more, to have him naked inside me, fucking me hard and deep.

He lifted his head and watched me, withdrawing before rocking against me again, slow and steady, letting me feel the full, heavy weight of his cock dragging over me.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Casper said, one hand palming my ass, lifting me, adjusting the angle so that when he passed over me again, the sensations were that much more intense.

I might have bit my lip bloody to keep from responding…except I realized that was what he wanted. He didn’t want the response. He didn’t want the reaction. It was safer, for him, if he could pretend I didn’t react. Not to him. Not to this. Which made it that much more laughable. I’d never felt such a strong reaction to a man before, and everything about him made it harder to control my response.

He slid over me again and the cotton material of my leggings dragged over my wet, engorged clitoris. I sank my nails into his shoulders and shoved closer.

Fuck safety.

Fuck logic.

Fuck everything.

I wanted to come.

He tensed.

“Tia…”

I dragged my lids open and stared at him, lashes heavy, body lax. “I want to come. Stop telling me what kind of game I’m playing when you have your cock wedged up against my pussy, Casper. Stop talking about…whatever it is you’re talking about unless you’re going to do something about it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a mess right now. I can handle it by myself but it will be a lot easier if you’re not fussing at me.”

A hard breath shuddered from him.

He shoved a hand into my hair.

Then, even as I tried to center myself, he shoved his other hand into my panties. “You want to come?”

 

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About Shiloh Walker

 

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Shiloh Walker is an award-winning writer…yes, really!  She’s also a mom, a wife, a reader and she pretends to be an amateur photographer.  She published her first book in 2003. Her latest romance, Cocksure, released in November 2018.

She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels.

 

 

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Book 12: the Guild Hunter series


Return to New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh’s darkly passionate Guild Hunter world, where human-turned-angel Elena Deveraux, consort to Archangel Raphael, faces a new challenge that threatens the balance of the world.

 

Synopsis

 

Wings of silver. Wings of blue. Mortal heart. Broken dreams. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. A sundering. A grave. I see the end. I see. . . .

The world is in chaos as the power surge of the Cascade rises to a devastating crescendo. In furiously resisting its attempts to turn Elena into a vessel for Raphael’s power, Elena and her archangel are irrevocably changed… far beyond the prophecy of a cursed Ancient.

At the same time, violent and eerie events around the world threaten to wipe out entire populations. And in the Archangel Lijuan’s former territory, an unnatural fog weaves through the land, leaving only a bone-chilling silence in its wake. Soon it becomes clear that even the archangels are not immune to this deadly evil. This time, even the combined power of the Cadre may not be enough. . . .

This war could end them all.

 

Advance Excerpt from Archangel’s War

 

“We watch,” the Primary said. “We protect.”

But things were altering in front of them, a faint glow emanating from where the aeclari had been before the filaments obscured both Raphael’s body and Elena’s chrysalis.

Beyond the balcony doors now partially covered with the snow silk of the filaments, the Bluebell turned. His eyes widened at seeing the ocean of filaments, the glow. But before he could open the closed doors, a familiar voice entered all their minds.

Leave now. It was an order from an archangel. Clear the skies above. Empty the land around. GO.

The Legion were moving even as the last word echoed in their minds. They were Raphael’s Legion, Elena’s Legion, and they had been given an order. The Bluebell wasn’t Legion. He was one of the Seven. Unique. With his own mind.

Torment wrenched his features, but he inclined his head, and the Primary saw him form the word, “Sire.”

All of them moved.

The Bluebell dropped to the grass, then ran inside the house.

The Legion broke into four parts and swept the area. Winged beings were already flying toward the river at high speed, their faces stark and their jaws determined. The Legion dropped down in front of cars moving on the nearest road. The cars were not so close to the aeclari’s home, but the archangel hadn’t said how far to clear.

When the first two cars halted with a screech that caused a burning scent to rise to their nostrils, the Legion wrenched the doors open and hauled the startled vampires out. A group of the Legion rose into the air, two to a vampire. Another group found four humans in a third car, a vampire’s cattle heading home. The scared cattle whimpered at being taken by the Legion but didn’t struggle. Neither did the vampires after they saw the angels racing from the Enclave to the water.

Golden light poured out from the windows of the aeclari’s home.

Many of the angels streaming over the water held vampires or humans in their arms, getting their households out of danger. The Bluebell was one of the last to fly out of the Enclave, and though the Legion did not speak to many outside of the aeclari, they spoke to him: Are the aeclari’s people safe? This was important. The Legion knew. The aeclari had bonds to those who lived in the house.

Yes, I got them out. The Bluebell, who could fly faster than the Primary and sometimes raced with the cars of the Blade and the Viper, fell off the cliff with his wings licked by a golden light so bright that it was difficult to face. In one hand, he held a large rectangular thing, in his other items they recognized.

Several of the Legion flew to him, and took the things. They did not understand things, but these were linked to the aeclari in their mind. We will fly them to the Tower.

Most of the angels kept on flying toward Manhattan, and those of the Legion that carried vampires or mortals kept on going, too. But the Primary turned once he was over the center of the river, as did those of his brethren who flew only their own bodies.

The Bluebell halted in front of them, the silvery blue of his wings spread and his face awash in the burning golden light that had turned the river to gold.

And the light, it grew, and grew, and grew.

Until at last, the light was so bright that it became fire and even the Primary couldn’t bear it and threw up his arm in front of his eyes. The last thing he saw was an intense white brightness.

© Copyright 2019 by Nalini Singh

 

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 ✮ ✮ NOW AVAILABLE ON AUDIO ✮ ✮ 

“Intense and creepy. A look into the dark depths of psyche, trust, and family, with twists so jarring, you won’t know right from wrong.” –Tarryn Fisher, New York Times Bestselling Author

The Rules of Burken, a thriller packed with secrets, lies and a dangerous game from Traci Finlay is now available in audio!

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Synopsis

Twenty-four-year-old Charlotte Stahl would do anything for her older brother, Ian. After all, he’d done everything for her growing up.He played Burken with her—a hide-and-seek game they made up as kids.He comforted her when their mom deserted them. He raised her when their dad went to prison for murder. To Charlotte, Ian is the only reason she’s still alive—he’s her rock. So when Ian asks her to play Burken in the isolated woods of Cadillac, Michigan, Charlotte feels she could use the nostalgia and agrees. Burken—it’s the one thing that never changes…

…until Ian threatens to kill her in the middle of the game.

More than the rules have changed as Brother turns to Predator, Sister turns to Prey, and she’s navigating the forests of Northern Michigan on foot with nothing but the clothes—and a target—on her back.

If Charlotte wants to stay alive, she knows she has to untangle the web of her haunting past to find out where things went wrong, and at what point she lost sight of reality. With no other choice but to reopen old wounds—and with Ian hot on her trail—Charlotte learns that sometimes evil has to manifest in order for good to succeed. Which makes her wonder…

 

 

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Protect the Prince[16171]

 

PROTECT THE PRINCE, Crown of Shards #2, July 2

 

Magic, murder, adventure, and romance combine in this second novel in the exciting Crown of Shards saga from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Estep.

 

 

Synopsis

 

Everleigh Blair might be the new gladiator queen of Bellona, but her problems are far from over.

First, Evie has to deal with a court full of arrogant, demanding nobles, all of whom want to get their greedy hands on her crown. As if that wasn’t bad enough, an assassin tries to kill Evie in her own throne room.

Despite the dangers, Evie goes ahead with a scheduled trip to the neighbouring kingdom of Andvari in order to secure a desperately needed alliance. But complicating matters is the stubborn Andvarian king, who wants to punish Evie for the deaths of his countrymen during the Seven Spire massacre.

Dark forces are also at work inside the Andvarian palace, and Evie soon realizes that no one is safe. Worse, her immunity to magic starts acting in strange, unexpected ways, which makes Evie wonder whether she is truly strong enough to be a Winter Queen.

Evie’s magic, life, and crown aren’t the only things in danger—so is her heart, thanks to Lucas Sullivan, the Andvarian king’s bastard son and Evie’s … well, Evie isn’t quite sure what Sullivan is to her.

Only one thing is certain—protecting a prince might be even harder than killing a queen…

 

PROTECT THE PRINCE EXCERPT

I stared up at the queen’s throne sitting on top of the dais. The chair was crafted of jagged pieces of tearstone that had been dug out of Seven Spire and fitted together centuries ago. The throne gleamed with a soft, muted light, shifting from starry gray to midnight-blue and back again, just like the columns did. The changing colors represented the Summer and Winter lines of the Blair royal family, as well as the everlasting strength of the Bellonan people.

I had seen the throne many, many times before, but now that it was mine, I found it far more intimidating, especially since the top featured the same crown-of-shards crest that adorned my tunic, bracelet, sword, and dagger. I had never paid any attention to that symbol before the royal massacre, but now, it was everywhere I went. Sometimes, I thought I would have been far happier if I had never seen it at all. I certainly would have been much safer.

Summer queens are fine and fair, with pretty ribbons and flowers in their hair. Winter queens are cold and hard, with frosted crowns made of icy shards.

The words to the old Bellonan fairy-tale rhyme echoed in my mind, as though all the queens who had come before were whispering them to me over and over again. I listened to the phantom voices a moment longer, then exhaled, slowly climbed up the dais steps, turned around, and sat down on the throne.

That was the signal everyone had been waiting for, and all the lords, ladies, senators, guilders, and others strode forward, stopping a few feet away from the bottom of the dais. They split into their usual cliques and began gossiping, while servants handed out sweet cakes, fresh fruits and cheeses, and glasses of blackberry sangria.

I looked up at the second-floor balcony. More nobles milled around there, eating, drinking, talking, and watching me, although they were all poorer and thus far less important than the ones on the first floor.

I started to drop my gaze when I noticed a man sitting by himself in the top corner of the balcony. He was wearing a long gray coat over a black tunic, and his dark brown hair gleamed under the lights, although a bit of stubble darkened his strong jaw. His handsome features were as blank as mine were, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, although his blue eyes burned into mine with fierce intensity.

My nostrils flared. Even though he was as far away from me as possible, I could still pick out his scent—cold, clean vanilla with just a hint of spice—above all the others in the room. I drew in another breath, letting his scent sink deep down into my lungs, and trying to ignore the hot spark of desire it ignited inside me.

Lucas Sullivan was the magier enforcer of the Black Swan troupe, a bastard prince of Andvari, and my . . . Well, I didn’t know exactly what he was to me. Much more than a friend, but not a lover, despite my pointed advances on that front. But I cared about him more than I wanted to think about, especially now, when I was facing another battle inside my own palace.

So I dropped my gaze from his and studied the nobles again. Even though I had been queen for about three months, ever since I had killed Vasilia, the crown princess and my treacherous cousin, this was my first formal court session. Practically every noble from across the kingdom had journeyed here to discuss business and other matters, and it was important that things went well. I doubted they would, though. The nobles weren’t going to like some of the things I had to say.

While the nobles chattered and downed their food and drinks, I discreetly drew in a breath, letting the air roll in over my tongue and tasting all the scents in it. The people’s floral perfumes and spicy colognes. The fruity tang of the sangria. The pungent aroma of the blue cheeses that the servants were slicing on the buffet tables along the walls.

I opened my mouth to start the session when one final scent assaulted my senses—hot, jalapeño rage so strong that it made my nose burn with its sudden, sharp intensity.

Most people scoffed at my mutt magic, but my enhanced sense of smell was quite useful in one regard—it let me sense people’s emotions, and very often their intentions. Garlic guilt, ashy heartbreak, minty regret. I could tell what someone was feeling—and often what they were plotting—just by tasting the scents that swirled around them.

I’d had years to hone my mutt magic, so I knew that jalapeño rage meant only one thing.

Someone here wanted to kill me.

 

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This was such an amazing read!
I would give this book more than 5 stars if I could!
This book was an incredible story of lies, treachery, deceit, and hidden agendas.
There were so many twists and turns and unexpected circumstances and secrets that were wonderfully executed and beautifully revealed.

I loved the development of Evie and Sullivan’s complicated characters and how much of their past seemed to affect their present decisions.

Loved the tension between Evie and Sullivan and the nice twist at the end.
They perfectly complimented one another.
Great writing!
Great story!
Great characters!

I look forward to reading more books in this series!

 

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About the Author

Jennifer Estep is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling author prowling the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea.

Jennifer writes the Crown of Shards epic fantasy series. Protect the Prince, book #2, will be released on July 2.

Jennifer is also the author of the Elemental Assassin, Mythos Academy, Bigtime, and Black Blade fantasy series.

For more information on Jennifer and her books, visit www.jenniferestep.com or follow Jennifer on FacebookGoodreads, and Twitter. You can also sign up for her newsletter.

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