Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:03:00 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.booksnovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Alta Hensley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com 32 32 Songbird in the Gallows (Grimlock #1) Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/songbird-in-the-gallows-grimlock-1-read-online-alta-hensley Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:03:00 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/songbird-in-the-gallows-grimlock-1-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Authors: Alta Hensley Series: Grimlock Series by Alta Hensley
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)

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From the bestselling author of He Sees You When You’re Sleeping comes a dark romance about a murder-sober retired serial killer and his murder-curious protégé. Perfect for fans of Brynne Weaver, this twisted romance inspired by the Bluebeard folktale is filled with dark humor, sizzling chemistry, and spice.

Murder is their love language…

Five years ago, Saylor Mitchell’s father was brutally murdered in front of her, shattering her world. Now his killers have tracked her down to finish the job. She is unexpectedly saved by her father’s closest friend, the enigmatic Blue. Saylor's savior—and captor— is a reformed, murder-sober assassin struggling to escape the clutches of his own violent history.

Blue’s gothic mansion, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a stormy sea in the town of Grimlock, is a labyrinth of secrets. And so is Grimlock, a small town whose residents all seem to have a penchant for murder that they’ve managed—mostly— to overcome.

Saylor soon realizes that Blue holds the key to avenging her father’s murder at the hands of the Crow, a gang of amoral contract killers. Only problem? Saylor has never killed before. Good thing those who can’t kill…teach.

Blue finds Saylor an apt pupil and the attraction between them morphs into a dangerous obsession. Can their love conquer Blue’s final, darkest secret?

Morally grey leadsTouch her and dieDad’s best friendPossessivenessGothic mansionMurder mysteryForbidden loveAge gapForced proximityAnti-heroDark romanceGothic romanceFairytale retelling

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Saylor

Once upon a time, I believed in right and wrong.

Before I learned the truth. Learned it in the spray of my father’s blood, felt it hot across my face while I choked on the urge to scream. The sound of him dying is still inside me, a metronome to every choice I make.

There’s a bone-deep truth. A blood-written truth . . .

It’s not what you do, but why you do it.

The driving force that lives beneath your skin, pulsing with every heartbeat, whispering justifications in the dark hours when sleep won’t come. When you understand someone’s why—when you relate to it, fall in love with it, cradle it against your chest like a secret—that’s what can turn the villain in any story into the hero.

But maybe this is the real question: Who is the villain?

Can you be the villain in your own story? Can you watch yourself make choices that would horrify the person you used to be, and still believe you’re doing the right thing?

Can you go from rabbit to wolf and convince yourself it was always your true nature, that the innocence was just a costume you wore until the world forced you to shed it?

I think about this now, when my hands are steady and my conscience is quiet. When the weight of what I’ve done settles into my core, and I can look in the mirror without flinching at what stares back. When love means something different than it did before. It’s deeper, more honest, written in a language that most people are too afraid to learn.

* * *

They say you can disappear in New York. Become someone new between one subway stop and the next. I should know—I’ve been Saylor Mitchell for so long now that sometimes I forget I was ever Sara Mitchell.

But here’s the thing about running: You can change your name, dye your hair raven black, build a whole new life, but some things follow you. The phantom weight of your father’s blood on your hands. The sound a throat makes when it’s being cut. The way your real name sits like a stone in your chest, even when no one’s called you that in years.

These nights performing at the White Note are the only time I feel like both versions of myself can coexist. Where scattered applause and clinking glasses create their own kind of percussion, and cigarette smoke curls through the air like visible notes. Where Saylor Mitchell sings jazz for tips, but Sara Mitchell’s rage hums underneath every note.

I’d considered changing my last name too—new identity, clean slate. But Mitchell was my father’s name, and as much as I needed to disappear, I couldn’t bring myself to lose that last piece of him. So Sara became Saylor, but Mitchell stayed. A small rebellion against my own survival instincts.

The cabaret is dimly lit, smoky, a place where secrets thrive in dark corners. I scan the crowd as I slink across the stage, my scarlet-red sequined dress catching the light. My fingers find the compass necklace at my throat—Dad’s compass. Antique brass on a simple chain, the face no bigger than a quarter. It clashes with everything I wear, too practical for sequins and satin, but I haven’t taken it off since that awful night. North still points north, even when everything else in my life points nowhere. I give it a quick touch for luck. Same ritual every night since I started singing here.

As the sultry melody from the band fills the room, I adjust the rose in my slicked-back black hair and take hold of the microphone. It’s time for me to seduce the crowd and lose myself in the music.

I close my eyes and let my body move to the rhythm, swaying my hips and running my hands down my curves. The audience is captivated, their eyes following every movement of my body.

My voice comes out low and smooth as I sing the first line of “Fever,” a classic jazz song that never fails to get hearts racing. It’s not my favorite song—too mainstream for my tastes—but Joey, the club owner, insists I start each set with it. Says it draws in the regulars.

Sometimes I wonder if the regulars would recognize Sara in Saylor. But Sara was an eighteen-year-old girl from Seattle who watched her father die, who ran to New York with nothing but the clothes on her back and a fake ID she bought at Port Authority. Saylor is twenty-three, trying to be confident, and attempting to never look over her shoulder. Sara hid in closets. Saylor owns every stage she steps on. Not that anyone here knows there’s a difference.

The music shifts into something slower, sultrier. My hips follow the rhythm as I work through the standards. Songs that pay rent and keep me invisible. Each performance is a balancing act between being memorable enough for tips but forgettable enough that no one asks too many questions about where I came from.

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He Knows When You’re Awake – Naughty or Nice Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/he-knows-when-youre-awake-naughty-or-nice-read-online-alta-hensley Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:11:05 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/he-knows-when-youre-awake-naughty-or-nice-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)

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This deluxe paperback edition features special sprayed edges with digital artwork and glow-in-the-dark cover effects!

This Christmas, it’s all about getting what you really want in this dark billionaire stalker romance sequel to He Sees You When You’re Sleeping.

Stalking in a winter wonderland...

Jewelry designer Sloane dreams of launching her own custom line—but she needs a Christmas miracle to pull it off. With traditional banks turning her down left and right, she can’t resist when a mysterious stranger offers her a lifeline.

I see what she creates in those stolen moments when she thinks no one’s watching. I see everything. There's a darkness at her core and I will unravel her until I find it.

Reclusive billionaire Cole Asher offers to fly Sloane out to an ultra-luxurious Swiss resort for a meeting. Reluctantly, she agrees—only to realize she’s met him once before in a New York bar.

She is crucial to my plans, and I need her close. She insists that we keep things professional, and I comply. But soon she will realize that every line is blurred when it comes to her and me.

Cole offers to back her company—but there’s a cost. To secure his investment, Sloane must move into his Manhattan penthouse, where she’ll complete her first round of designs for him to review before Christmas.

Sloane throws herself into her work, yet soon the attraction between her and Cole becomes undeniable. As the city sparkles with Christmas splendor from her penthouse view, Sloane wonders if she has stepped into a fairy tale—until Cole's powerful enemies close in. They will stop at nothing to destroy him, including going after the woman he loves.

I will burn down the world to get her back...and it will be in time for Christmas

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One Cole

Three months of watching her every move, and she still manages to surprise me.

I leave my scotch untouched on top of quarterly reports, watching the security feed from Moth to the Flame instead. The image quality is shit, but it’s enough.

From my penthouse office, it’s possible to see half of Manhattan. But I’m focused on the wall of screens, their glow reflecting off the mahogany panels and marble floor. I built this room to keep tabs on my investments. Not just the jewelry lines that made the Asher name synonymous with luxury, but the entire portfolio. The chain of five-star hotels stretching from New York to Dubai, the private airline that caters to the ultra-wealthy, and the three exclusive members-only clubs in the most influential cities in the world. I’ve transformed my modest jewelry business into a luxury lifestyle empire.

Now I spend most of my time watching one jewelry designer work.

“Another female entrepreneur gets screwed by the banking system.” Knox drops an iPad on my desk, helping himself to my scotch. The Chase Bank rejection letter glows on the screen—standard corporate bullshit about risk factors and lack of collateral. “That’s the third one this week. Though I gotta say, this one’s different from our usual finds.”

He’s right. I started monitoring loan rejections from major banks after noticing a pattern—brilliant women with innovative ideas getting shut down by old, outdated men too stupid to see past their own biases. It became almost a hobby, finding these diamonds in the rough, proving the banks wrong.

But Sloane . . . Sloane Whitmore was something else entirely.

Her long crimson hair is always the first thing I notice, falling past her shoulders when she lets it down. Today it’s pulled back in that neat bun she wears at work, revealing the delicate curve of her neck, the subtle arch of her brows over those piercing green eyes. Even in her carefully curated wardrobe—tailored black blazers, high-waisted trousers, and those impossibly high heels she navigates Manhattan in—there’s an elegance to her movements, a quiet confidence that commands attention. Pure New York sophistication with an edge that matches her designs.

“Tell me about Julian’s plans again,” I say, not taking my eyes off the feed. “His supposed ‘luxury line’ launch date.”

Knox flips through documents on his iPad. “Still set for February. Using those mysterious ‘newly discovered designs’ of Claire’s he’s been teasing. Industry insiders are already calling it the event of the season.” He pauses, scrolling further. “He’s been meeting with Bergdorf and Neiman Marcus. Word is he’s promising them exclusive rights to certain pieces. And I heard he’s secured rare colored diamonds from South Africa.”

I feel my jaw tighten. Claire. Even now, five years later, the thought of how Julian exploited her talent, how he plans to continue exploiting her name after her “accident”—it makes my blood boil.

“And our timeline?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on strategy rather than rage.

“If Whitmore says yes, and if she works at the pace her portfolio suggests she can . . . We beat him to market by two weeks. Just enough time to steal all his thunder and expose his ‘Claire collection’ for the fraud it is.”

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Hollow – Heathens Hollow Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/hollow-heathens-hollow-read-online-alta-hensley Mon, 30 Jun 2025 18:58:41 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hollow-heathens-hollow-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Dark, M-M Romance Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)

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No body, no crime.

That’s what they say on Heathens Hollow, where the line between desire and obsession blurs with each tide.

I return to my family’s isolated island estate to recover, to heal. To escape the prison my life has become.

The maze calls to me with its twisting pathways and secrets buried beneath the soil.

And so do they.

Two men, tangled in a storm of their own making.

Damiano, the groundskeeper who knows every hidden path through the maze.

Flint, the bartender whose eyes hold truths about the island I’m not ready to face.

Former lovers. Current enemies. Both now inexplicably tied to me.

As The Hunt approaches, Heathens Hollow’s most dangerous ritual begins.

Masked pursuers. Willing prey. Ancient traditions that care nothing for outsiders.

Some things should stay buried in Heathens Hollow.

But on this island, secrets always find their way to the surface.

𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗦: Primal Play, Why Choose, Enemies to Lovers, Touch Her and Die, Masked Men, Stalking, MMF, Dark Romance

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Briar

The island has been waiting for me to die here.

Okay, that sounds super dramatic, but it’s true. I feel it in the chill that cuts through my cashmere sweater, in the mist that sticks to my skin like it’s never going to dry. Heathens Hollow remembers me, even after all these years.

The pale girl from the big house—the one who never quite fit in.

My father’s driver doesn’t speak as we wind along the narrow coastal road from the private dock. His silence seems deliberate, perfected over years of ferrying the wealthy to their island retreats. The Waters family car, a sleek black Rover reserved exclusively for island use, cuts through the fog with precision, headlights barely penetrating the dense white curtain around us.

“You can stop here,” I say when the silhouette of Windward Estate emerges through the mist. My voice sounds foreign in the quiet car. Way too soft. I clear my throat. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, evaluating my thin frame, the pallor of my skin. “Ms. Waters, your father instructed⁠—”

“My father isn’t here.” I reach for the door handle. “I haven’t felt solid ground beneath my feet in hours. Please.”

He hesitates, then pulls over where the paved driveway meets gravel. I step out, instantly wrapping my scarf tighter as the island air hits me. So damp, so cold, practically dripping with salt and pine. My body’s thermostat went haywire years ago. Another system my immune system declared war on. But here, at least I have a reason for all the layers I wear. I’m not the weird girl bundled up in Seattle’s seventy-degree “heat wave.” Here, everyone would be cold.

“Your luggage—” the driver begins.

“Would you mind bringing it to the house,” I say. “I need a moment.”

He nods once, understanding the language of the wealthy—privacy paid for with generous tips, the currency Dad taught me to throw around like confetti. The car pulls away, leaving me alone on the path I used to run down as a child, when my body still obeyed basic commands without protest.

With each crunch of gravel under my feet, the memories hit me. My mother’s laugh bouncing across the garden. Her perfume, always citrusy, mixing with the sea air. The way she’d grab my hands and twirl me around the great room during storms, old jazz records skipping on that vintage player she refused to replace. And then... nothing, her gone-ness filling the house more than she ever did. Empty rooms. Dad disappearing into work calls and late nights at the office. And fourteen-year-old me, learning that grief is something you do alone.

Now, at twenty-seven, I’m back for the first time since I was nineteen. Before the diagnosis. Before the endless parade of treatments. Before I became a full-time patient instead of a person.

Windward Estate emerges fully as I crest the hill, a sprawling Victorian mansion that belongs on a horror movie poster—all dark wood and sharp angles weathered by years of storms. The house stands three stories tall with a widow’s walk atop the central tower, where my grandmother used to scan the horizon with her brass telescope. Windows stare out at the churning Salish Sea as if searching for answers, demanding to know why I’ve been AWOL so long.

The house remains immaculate, of course. Dad would settle for nothing less, even for a property he visits perhaps once every few years. Status symbols require upkeep, especially ones with historical significance like the Waters family summer home.

I pause at the front steps, my lungs tight from the walk and the damp air. The pain is familiar, my constant buddy these days, but I breathe through it, counting slowly the way my last physical therapist taught me.

One, two, three in.

One, two, three out.

My camera bag weighs heavy against my hip, the only luggage I’ve insisted on carrying myself. Inside, three camera bodies and five lenses nestle in padded compartments, the tools of the career I haven’t quite abandoned, despite my father’s insistence that my “hobby” is too strenuous.

Mrs. Fletcher, the housekeeper who’s maintained Windward for decades, opens the massive oak door before I can reach for the handle. Her lined face breaks into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Pity camps there instead.

“Miss Briar!” She moves aside. “Good to have you back. It’s been too long.”

Home.

The word feels wrong, yet I have nowhere else to claim. My Seattle apartment sits sterile and empty, more hospital room than living space after years of accommodating my illness. This place, at least, holds memories from before.

“The house looks the same,” I say, stepping into the foyer. The familiar scent hits me, lemon polish, old wood, and that weird Windward smell I’ve never found anywhere else.

“Just how your father likes it. Your room’s all set, and I’ve stocked the kitchen with everything on that list Dr. Winters sent.”

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Sweet Riot – Riot Crew Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/sweet-riot-riot-crew-read-online-alta-hensley Thu, 17 Apr 2025 13:06:16 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sweet-riot-riot-crew-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Sports Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)

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I thought we had conquered it all. I was wrong.

Just when victory seems within our grasp, the underground fighting world proves it has one last sucker punch to deliver.

The West Coast Circuit promises legitimacy, fame, and the chance to prove ourselves on the biggest stage. But nothing comes without a price. Dirty money. Corrupt sponsors. Threats that could destroy everything we’ve built.

Frankie still burns with the intensity of Freakshow, his protective instincts warring with his need to see us succeed.

Bones fights through pain and loss, his determination to make his father proud pushing him beyond his limits.

Lotto calculates every move, orchestrating our survival while dancing with devils who wear business suits.

And River... he brings something new. Something dangerous. Something that could either complete us or tear us apart.
They’re no longer just fighting for me – they’re fighting for us. For our family. For our future.

But Vegas is calling, and Sin City isn’t known for playing fair. To reach the top, we’ll have to risk it all.

And this time, I’m not sure if even their obsession will be enough to save us

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter

One

LOTTO

Smiley’s Gym had never been quieter.

We’d been through a lot in this place—contracts, training, trees that had a mind of their own, losing, rebuilding, and winning.

But none of those had rendered us as speechless as Beau “River” Fitzpatrick’s offer for the big leagues.

Only a few weeks had passed since we finished renovations to Smiley’s after a storm nearly wiped us out. Even more recently since River and Perk’s Gym tried to do the same in the ring at Heathens Hollow. Now River had dropped something even heavier than a 203-year-old oak right in our laps.

He wanted us to tell Troy Godwin to shove his headliner offer where the sun didn’t shine.

He wanted Smiley’s to go legit and join the West Coast Circuit.

And even better, he wanted to join us and get it done.

If someone had told me we’d be in this position not even a week ago, I’d tell them to book a consultation with a psychotherapist.

I scrolled through my phone, reading and re-reading posts on social media. River wasn’t the only one talking about the circuit. Tons of other gyms and contacts were discussing the “return of the phoenix.” The previous time they’d tried the circuit, it had been a goddamn disaster. Lack of sponsors, fights in dingy high school gyms and people’s fucking driveways, barely a blip on the radar. It had come and gone without fanfare or anyone really giving a shit.

But this time, they promised bigger. Better. More action, more money, more primetime spots. A few huge companies around the West Coast were offering sponsorships for an “up-and-coming boxing league” that could rival the big dogs. “This isn’t your mom’s backyard brawl” one guy wrote in his recruitment post. I’d sure hope not. My mom would lay out anyone who tried to bleed on the prized petunias in her backyard garden, Bones and me included, and not blink a damn eye while doing it.

The thought made me smirk.

“Find something funny?”

I blinked back into reality. Bones leaned over in his plastic chair to check out my phone. I let him, while I admired his thick build and cropped hair. He looked much better than a few weeks ago. Hell, even a few days ago. Heathens Hollow had fucked all of us in one way or another. Bones had just gotten his right hook back to full power and stopped walking with a slight limp in his right leg. Ari’s bruises faded back to that beautiful body I loved, while Frankie stopped looking like someone had shoved a stick up his ass and forgotten to pull it out. The Perks siblings had finally quit their bullshit and let me scroll my usual online haunts for fights in goddamn peace.

There was nothing better than a little room to breathe after everything we had gone through.

Well, except for all the fun we’d had in the club beneath Heathens Hollow.

I highly doubted repeats of that night could happen if we chose to fight for the West Coast Circuit.

“People talking about the same thing River did.” I handed over my phone and leaned back in my plastic chair. “Have you thought about it, Ari?”

“It’s been a day.” She sighed. Playing with the ends of her high ponytail, she muttered, “I don’t even know if we can trust him.”

“We can’t.” Frankie sat next to Ari, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. That “stick-in-his-ass” frown was back. I had half a mind to crawl over to him and make it disappear. He couldn’t frown when I was sucking the life out of him, could he? “I never knew River to be a fairweather fighter.”

“We don’t really know much about him at all. He disappeared for a while. I thought he retired.” Bones turned my phone off and handed it back. “What do you think, Lotto?”

“It’s a gamble.” I palmed my phone but didn’t look at it again. “He was our enemy barely a few weeks ago.”

And an insane enemy at that. River was a top fighter, and Smiley’s would be better with him as our ally. With River and Bones on the team, we’d become kings of any circuit we entered. But the circuit wasn’t the only offer we had.

Headliners. After two wins at Heathens Hollow, we were sitting pretty and had enough money in our pockets to last a while. If we promised to fight exclusively for Troy Godwin, we wouldn’t have to worry about much ever again.

But that meant tying ourselves to that bastard for more than just one simple contract.

Goddamn, I needed a drink.

“I don’t think we should do it.” Frankie sat up in his chair, his thin T-shirt flexing against his muscles. “It’s a liability.”

“So is fighting at Heathens Hollow,” Ari argued. “We all know Troy would have us on marionette strings.”

Bones sighed and flopped back in his chair. “And put you back in the ring, Ari.”

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Sugar Pop – The Riot Crew Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/sugar-pop-the-riot-crew-read-online-alta-hensley Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:16:31 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sugar-pop-the-riot-crew-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Sports Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >81

I just made a decision that could not only ruin my life… but end it.

Defying the overprotective and obsessive men around me, I’m left with no choice but to step into the fighting ring myself.
But my fateful decision will have consequences.

I’m not the innocent girl they first claimed I was anymore.

This is their dark world. Their rules. Their deadly game… and I just became an unwilling player.

Blood money. Dark deals. Corruption that suffocates everything it touches.

Frankie still dominates with the intensity of Freakshow, his need to control me growing stronger with each passing night.

Bones pushes his body to the breaking point, taking punishment that leaves me aching to heal him.

And Lotto… he watches from the shadows, his calculated manipulation making me burn in ways I never thought possible.

They think they can protect me from the violence that defines every part of who they are. They’re wrong.

To these men, I may bring chaos, but in me, they’ve unleashed something darker… something dangerous.

And I’m not sure they’re ready for what’s to come

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Ari

Bones’ punch landed square on his opponent’s jaw, and blood sprayed from his mouth with the impact. He teetered on his feet before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The crowd roared before he even hit the mat.

The hoots and hollers of gamblers around me drowned out my cheers.

BONES! BONES BONES!

I smiled when the referee lifted Bones’ arm to declare him the winner of the fight. I couldn’t have imagined this would be possible a few months ago. Bones had been a down-and-out, disgraced fighter whom I took a chance on. Now? The name Bones Vega was no longer associated with scorn and naysayers. He was the undisputed king of the underground ring, and he proved it night after night to anyone who challenged him.

Bones was the real deal, and he belonged to me.

Frankie, standing next to me in the crowd, clapped his hand on Lotto’s back. Another fight, another big payout. Pride swelled in my chest when Bones turned to us and flashed a grin. After our success at Heathens Hollow, Smiley’s was unstoppable. The position came with a ton of perks, most of them green with a nice picture of Benjamin Franklin on it. But our wins were more than that. They were proof of our bond and a chance to drown out the critics.

And they were a way to keep my father’s spirit alive and well.

If only he could see us now. Thanks to the Heathens Hollow payout, we were looking at hosting another round of tryouts and getting back on track as a tried-and-true boxing gym. With the extra winnings from Bones’ fights, we would have enough to support multiple fighters and even renovate the place, bring back the true spirit of boxing, and truly make sure the Smiley’s legacy carried on.

“Ari,” Frankie called. “Let’s go get our boy.”

I smiled. Our boy. It felt almost strange coming from Frankie. He had taken the longest to warm up to the idea of our unconventional arrangement. But having my three guys by my side meant the world to me. I would move mountains for Frankie, Bones, and Lotto, and I knew they would for me, too.

“After you.”

Lotto and Frankie went ahead first, and I followed them through the crowd toward the cage in the middle of the large room. People surrounded Bones, patting him on the shoulders and back. Probably big winners thanks to his easy KO finish. Blood caked his chiseled face, and a few drops from a cut above his left eye dripped onto his bare shoulders. Sweat covered his thick arm muscles and abs and accentuated his tats. His boxing shorts hung low on his hips, giving me a perfect view of his thick cock through the fabric.

God, he always looked so fucking sexy after a fight.

The instant I’d stepped into the ring and enticed him to Smiley’s I’d known Bones Vega was a masterpiece of a man, and I couldn’t wait to get home and worship that work of art.

I took another step toward the group before a flash of fingers caught my eye.

Just to the left of the main crowd, a large man waved at me with a little smirk, his long black hair pulled into a bun at his nape. He was dressed in all black, but from the collar of his hoodie, I could see the spirals and twists of his thorny neck tattoos. His hauntingly blue eyes pierced me and challenged me to strike up a conversation.

Beau “River” Fitzpatrick. I’d almost gone with him over Bones back when Smiley’s needed a fighter. I didn’t regret my choice, especially when things ended up with three sexy men to call my own. But I hadn’t expected him to show up tonight because he wasn’t on the docket.

River had a powerhouse of an uppercut that could knock you off your feet in five seconds, and an enticing grin that could do the same in less than three. I was approaching him before I even realized what I was doing.

“Well if it isn’t Ari,” River said as soon as I drew close enough. His eyes roamed over my tight dress. “You realize you’re at a fight, right?”

“White’s a good color on me,” I answered with a shrug. It was also my good luck charm. I wore the same dress the first night I met Bones.

River pushed off the brick wall and touched the bottom of my long, silvery braid. “Can’t argue with that.”

I ignored the way my heart leapt to my throat and gently flicked away his hand. “I’m surprised to see you here. You usually don’t show up when you’re not fighting.”

“Scoping out the competition,” he said nonchalantly. When he smiled down at me, a dimple creased his left cheek. “How’s it feel to be on top?”

“I’ll let you know when we get there.” I didn’t want to gloat. That was one thing my father always taught me: having a big head only meant more area for your opponent to sucker punch.

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He Sees You When You’re Sleeping Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/he-sees-you-when-youre-sleeping-read-online-alta-hensley Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:23:37 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/he-sees-you-when-youre-sleeping-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)

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Why choose between naughty or nice in this steamy, suspenseful Christmas-themed stalker romance that’s perfect for dark romance readers seeking a spicy, festive read.

It’s the night before Christmas and I’m alone in the house…

Popular jewelry influencer Chloe Hallman is steeling herself to spend another holiday on her own. Instead, she finds herself drawn to two different guys… a smoldering hot fan of her secret, seductive online persona, and a sexy fireman named Jack who looks out for her in their NYC neighborhood.

She has no idea that I know her better than she knows herself. Her deepest secrets, her darkest desires—she's careful, but I’ve been watching, never leaving footprints in the snow outside her home.

Jack was the first responder to the accident that stole a beautiful young woman's family two Christmases ago, and he's been quietly guarding her ever since. When Jack uncovers Chloe’s secret account, his obsession only grows. Both he and Chloe are drawn to the darkness that mirrors their own.

She’s my Christmas wish come true. And I'm hers. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Will Chloe’s Christmas be a tale of fiery passion...or a dangerous game with a man whose love knows no bounds?

He Sees You When You're Sleeping is a dark romance with a morally grey male lead. Some themes may be disturbing to readers. Please check the content warnings at the beginning of the book.

Tropes: Stalker romance, Acquainted in real life, Christmas romance, Fireman romance, Morally grey MMC, He falls first, Kink friendly

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Chloe

Fa la la fucking la.

I can’t lay in bed all morning avoiding the day, and yet here I am.

The Christmas lights strung on the large snow-covered hedge outside my window do little to get me in the spirit of what needs to happen for the day. The reflection of the twinkling lights dance on the frosted windowpane, creating a myriad of colors. But it all feels hollow.

I draw in a deep breath, tasting pine and cinnamon from the scented candle I’ve kept lit since first waking in a failed attempt to get me in the mood for work.

Chloe Hallman, social media influencer, can’t exactly be a Scrooge during the holidays. Especially when you’re the brand ambassador for Moth to the Flame Designs, a jewelry company that makes a huge portion of their annual profits this time of year.

But right now, I’m a stark contrast to the polished, always cheerful Chloe Hallman who adorns Instagram feeds and social media timelines. The festive cheer, the joyful banter, and the lively pictures of me draping costume jewelry on with cherry cheeks are all part of the job. Chloe Hallman is a brand, an icon of merriment in the wintry days of December. But that’s not me, not today. Today, I’m just Chloe.

With a sigh, I throw back the cozy quilt and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet touch the icy wooden floor as I rummage through my closet for a suitable outfit—something green and red perhaps, with a touch of gold. A laugh that should feel natural surfaces as I pull out a rather ostentatious Christmas jumper.

Remind me again why people love these things?

My phone rings, and I know there are only a few people in my life that would call me rather than text. Glancing at the screen, I see it’s Aunt Sue. Of course it’s her.

I hesitate for a moment before answering, the gaudy jumper still dangling from my other hand.

“Hi, Aunt Sue,” I say, trying to inject some cheer into my voice.

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad I caught you. I know you couldn’t make it to Thanksgiving this year, but we’d really love to have you for Christmas. I know flights are atrociously expensive right now, but I saw Southwest was running a deal to Phoenix and they really have increased in their customer service, and . . . yeah, anyway, I thought I’d give you a call.” Her voice is as warm and syrupy as ever.

I grimace, glad she can’t see my face. “I really appreciate the invite but—”

“I know you said you’re allergic to cats, but they have great medicine for that now and—”

“Aunt Sue,” I interrupt, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s not just about the cats.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear the gears turning in her head. “Oh,” she says, her voice dropping an octave.

“It’s a really busy time of year for me with work.”

There’s an awkward silence. “I know your mother wouldn’t want you to be alone during the holidays,” she begins. “And—”

“Aunt Sue, please,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intend. I take a deep breath, softening my tone. “I know you mean well, but I’m not alone. I have friends here, and plans.”

It’s not entirely a lie. I have friends, even if our plans are more of the “maybe we’ll grab a drink” variety than anything concrete.

“Well, if you change your mind . . .” she trails off, hope still lingering in her voice.

“I’ll let you know,” I say, knowing I won’t.

We spend the next ten minutes catching up and having small talk, but I can still sense her disappointment.

As I hang up the phone, a wave of guilt washes over me. I’m not allergic to cats, for one. And I could easily make the trip to Phoenix. My excuses are weak. I know Aunt Sue means well, but the thought of spending Christmas with my extended family, surrounded by reminders of my parents and how much we all loved the holiday season, is more than I can bear.

I toss the gaudy jumper onto the bed and sink down next to it, running my fingers over the scratchy fabric. Mom would have loved this monstrosity. She always had a flair for the dramatic when it came to holiday attire.

A sudden shout from outside interrupts my thoughts. I quickly make my way to the window, pressing my face against the frosted glass to get a better look. Outside, my eighty-two-year-old neighbor is lying in a heap of snow with a shovel next to him.

I watch as Mr. Haven groans, attempting to pull himself off his snow-lined walkway. His elderly body disagrees with his effort, and I wince in sympathy.

“Stay there, Mr. Haven!” I shout. “I’m coming out to help.”

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Sinfully His – Gilded Decadence Read Online Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/sinfully-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Thu, 21 Nov 2024 13:35:26 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sinfully-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Forbidden, Taboo Authors: Alta Hensley, Zoe Blake Advertisement

Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)

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He’s a fallen priest with dark secrets, and I’m the key to his revenge.

I never thought a simple walk in New York City would lead me into the shadows of a sinister game.
One moment, I'm fighting off attackers in a dark alley, and the next, I'm saved by a mysterious stranger.

He drags me into a darkened building, his grip both protective and possessive.
I should feel safe, but I can't shake the feeling that there's something dangerous lurking beneath his surface.

Imagine my shock when I discover my rescuer is none other than Thomas Manwarring, the notorious prodigal son of the Manwarring dynasty, returned from Rome under a shroud of scandal.

His every move is calculated, every glance a mix of fury and fascination.
I don’t understand why he saved me or why he seems so fixated on me, but I know one thing for his intentions are far from pure.

He watches me, studying every move, every breath.
I feel like he’s waiting for something—for me to fall into his trap—for me to trust him just enough.
But I’m not as naive as he thinks.

I’ll play along, but I’ll also fight back.
Navigating his maze of shadows and deception, I won’t be another pawn in his game.

Beneath the glittering surface of high society, lies a world of forbidden lust and dangerous secrets. Journey into a realm of deception and desire in this thrilling series by USAT Bestselling authors Zoe Blake and Alta Hensley.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

ROSE

The footsteps were getting closer.

Sharp scrapes from boot heels against the sidewalk echoed down the oddly empty side street.

My gaze traveled over the tall buildings overhead with their unblinking eyes. On the other side of each lit window was a stranger who wouldn’t give two shits if I screamed for help.

Welcome to New York.

City of culture and excitement, with a constant frisson of energy coursing through its densely packed streets that could only come from the forced melding of countless different viewpoints, beliefs and backgrounds.

Also, the city of not-my-fucking problem.

As always, a thrill tickled up my spine whenever I cursed, even if it was only silently in my head, knowing how pissed off my mother would be to know I was even thinking about the word… shit. And… fuck.

Nice girls who were future obedient wives of important empire-building CEOs did not have filthy mouths. Or so I had been told my entire freaking life.

Another scratch of leather against cement brought me back to the current danger.

This was silly.

It might not be a crowded street, but I was still on a public street in the busiest city in the world. Practically within view of a church.

I was just being neurotic. Whoever was behind me was probably on their cell phone completely unaware of how they were creeping me the fuck out.

I clutched the box of glass ornaments more tightly to my chest as goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chilly October night rose on my arms.

Now I just needed to convince my freaking-out body, which seemed to react with all the primal instincts of a rabbit in an open field, that I was overreacting and there was nothing to be so afraid of.

Yes, the steps behind me seemed to follow.

Yes, it was getting dark, and I was all alone.

But dammit, I was a perfectly capable twenty-two-year-old college graduate. An adult, even if my family rarely treated me as one. I could handle this.

Swallowing past the lump of fear in my throat, I watched the shifting shadows play across the cinder block walls of the building to my right, to gauge how many men were behind me… and how close they were. As if the distorted shapes would reveal their owners’ intentions.

When our family’s usual driver was replaced by a stranger with a deep Irish brogue, I didn’t think it was strange at the time. My mother had a way of chasing off even the most career-hardened staff members.

And when the man claimed to have gotten lost on his way to St. Thaddeus church, despite it being one of the most recognizable cathedrals in New York, it was a minor inconvenience to get out of the car and walk the final three blocks.

I really wasn’t one to complain… again, because my mother did enough of that for our entire family. As a result, I usually went out of my way to not say anything contrary.

Always the dutiful daughter, that was me. Sigh.

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I was seriously second-guessing the decision of letting the driver off the hook and leaving the safety of the car for this stupid errand my mother had me running.

With her reputation in tatters from all the manipulative, extremely shady things she had done recently in the name of family—although really just out of pure greed—my mother, Mary Quinn Astrid, was going all out for this year’s church charity bazaar.

She was determined to show the world what a generous and kind person she was—even if she had to lie and cheat to do it.

Like telling the organizing committee composed of mostly high society matrons from the best families in New York that she was donating a box of extremely rare family heirloom Christmas ornaments from England that had been in our family since Queen Victoria’s beloved Prince Albert introduced the Christmas tree to British society.

What a load of crap.

She’d sent the maid to scrounge through thrift stores in Brooklyn for them. Not even bothering to lend her our car and driver but making the poor girl take the subway from Manhattan.

I adjusted my grip on the heavy box, having a small appreciation for what the maid went through as I carefully stepped around a raised crack in the sidewalk and walked the last way to the dimly lit church.

Several of my close female friends had been targets of violence recently due, not only to my mother’s nefarious actions, but to our connection through marriage to the Manwarrings and their growing feud with the Irish mafia.

Something I, of course, was not supposed to know anything about as the sheltered, heiress daughter of the exalted—at least in their own minds—Astrid family of both New York and England.

The soft glow of the church’s stained glass windows was within view.

Only a few more steps and I…

A gloved hand covered my mouth.

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Primal – Heathens Hollow Read Online Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/primal-heathens-hollow-read-online-alta-hensley Mon, 08 Jul 2024 20:38:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/primal-heathens-hollow-read-online-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Taboo Authors: Alta Hensley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)

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The first time I meet him, he is the hunter and I am the prey.
The second time I see him, the reaper is knocking on my door.
The third time, I am told he will be my husband.
Every time we meet after that, I question if he will be my enemy or my lover.

He says he'll teach me the rules and consequences to this world of ours.
It's a dark place of give and most definitely take.
And as my future husband, he's supposed to protect me at all costs from the shadows that threaten my family.
But am I ever truly safe when I'm with him?

Or with them?

Masked men tasked to watch over me. Stalk me. Rarely leaving my side.
If he can't always be the hunter, he makes sure they can.

I may be able to run from one, secretly enjoying the primal chase.
But when there are three.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Braken

I recognize her the minute I see her. I never forget a face, a name, or a story—especially if the story is laced in darkness.

But tonight isn’t about her past. It is about right now. The present.

She stands on her front porch, beneath the red light, with a certain confidence that only those who have seen their fair share of horrors possess. It’s as if she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, but is determined to keep moving forward, no matter what the cost.

I watch from afar, hidden in the dense forest.

Stalking.

Planning.

She has signed up for The Hunt, and the night is ready to begin. By turning on her porch’s red light, dressing in her white nightgown, she has given her only signal of consent. Every year after the Harvest Moon, primal play is the only thing that exists on this island. It nearly consumes us all.

Women sign up to be chased with the knowledge that a basket full of money and gifts will await them in the morning on their porch—a fucked-up version of the Easter basket.

The men wear stag bone masks and hunt the women down with the sole intent to fuck them however they choose—an even more fucked-up version of the Easter bunny.

Every weekend, The Hunt happens until winter comes. It’s the way of Heathens Hollow. Always has been.

Raw.

Savage.

Depraved.

She will be my prey, and I the predator.

A game of submission... or is it?

I know from the moment I see her that she differs from the rest. Her eyes hold a certain fire, a passion that burns bright despite the darkness that surrounds her. It’s as if she dares me to come closer, to take her on and see what she is truly made of.

I creep through the trees, my heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This is what I live for, the thrill of the chase, the rush of the taking.

This is why I do The Hunt. Why I embrace every part.

As I draw closer, I take in the way she holds herself, the way she stands tall and proud despite the danger that lurks around every corner. It is a challenge, a dare, and I am more than ready to accept it.

I whistle in warning. An eerie sound the hunters give.

She isn’t a novice to the rules of the game, so she’ll know it means I am near.

I step out of the shadows, and my eyes lock on hers. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. Instead, she holds my gaze, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. It’s as if she knows what is coming, as if she is ready to face whatever fate has in store for her.

A fierce determination blazes in her eyes, a burning fire that refuses to be extinguished. It’s as if she is daring me to take her down, to break her.

For a moment, we stand there in silence, each sizing up the other. Beneath my bone stag mask, I part my lips and say one word.

“Run.”

Without a word, she turns and sprints, in mere seconds disappearing into the forest, her body a blur of motion.

The hunt is on, and I am in pursuit. Her bare feet slap down as she runs, leaves and branches rustle as she dodges through the trees. I am hot on her trail, my senses sharp and alert.

As we run, glimpses of her reveal her long, dark hair whipping behind her, her body in a white nightgown moving with a fluid grace. A wave of desire washes over me, a primal urge to catch her, to have her. This is more than just a hunt, this is a game of seduction, of desire and passion.

I chase her deeper into the forest, the trees and foliage rushing by in mayhem. We move as one, predator and prey, locked in a dance of danger and desire. I feel the heat of her body, the scent of her sweat and fear driving me onward.

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Unwillingly His – Gilded Decadence Read Online Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/unwillingly-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Sat, 22 Jun 2024 18:37:59 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/unwillingly-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Forbidden Authors: Alta Hensley, Zoe Blake Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

The moment she slapped me, I knew I'd chosen the right bride.

To be fair, I had just stolen her entire inheritance.

As Lucian Manwarring, billionaire patriarch of the powerful Manwarring family, my word is law.
She's a beautiful and innocent heiress, raised to be the perfect society trophy wife.
Although far too young for me, that won't stop me from claiming her as my new prized possession.

What I hadn't planned on was her open defiance of me.
Far from submissive and obedient, she is stubborn, outspoken and headstrong.
She tries to escape my control and fights my plan to force her down the aisle.

I am not accustomed to being disobeyed.
While finding it mildly amusing at first, it is past time she accepts her fate.
She will be my bride even if I have to ruthlessly dominate and punish her to get what I want.

Dive into the seductive world of dark romance featuring New York's high society as they navigate treacherous schemes and guard their scandalous desires, expertly woven by the USAT Bestselling authors Zoe Blake and Alta Hensley.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

STELLA

Istormed across the courtroom and slapped Lucian Manwarring across the face.

Unlike in the movies, there were no shocked gasps, no outraged cries, no laughter.

Definitely no laughter.

There wasn’t even the repeated frenzied slam of a gavel as a red-faced judge screamed, ‘Order! Order in the court!’.

There was only silence.

Tense, repressive, ominous… silence.

After all, I had just slapped a vengeful god.

At least that was what everyone was thinking around me. I could literally feel their mortal terror. It radiated off the assembled courtroom like a wave of heat after a bomb blast.

Lucian Manwarring was the foreboding patriarch of the powerful and rich Manwarring family. His exploits in business were famous… or rather infamous. There were few people in New York who weren’t terrified of this man.

When crossed, he didn’t get angry, he got even. Scorched earth even. His billion-dollar whiskey empire was built on the charred remains of countless other businesses and men.

He was feared, respected, reviled, and envied.

My father had hated him with a burning, white-hot passion.

Which was why it made no sense. Why would he name Lucian Manwarring the trustee over my inheritance in the event of his death?

A sharp pain pierced my chest.

They were gone. Both of them. My parents had been taken from me in an instant.

A vision of twisted car metal, the smell of blood, and my mother’s moans as snowflakes gently drifted down on me from the opening in the torn roof floated across my inner eye. I shook the disturbing image away.

I needed to focus.

If I didn’t do something, Lucian would succeed in not only stealing my entire inheritance, but in having complete control over my life until I turned twenty-nine. That was three years from now!

The very idea of being under this man’s thumb for that long was untenable.

My right palm stung, but I resisted the urge to rub it against my thigh.

I didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt me.

Trying to match his glare, my eyes watered as I refused to blink.

Or were they tears?

Through clenched teeth, I threatened, “You won’t get away with this.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Little one, I already have.”

CHAPTER 2

LUCIAN

How amusing.

Stella Deiderich had struck me.

In public, no less.

Of course, now I would need to teach her a lesson.

She’d need to learn what happened to bad little girls the hard way.

The easy way never seemed to stick.

Rising slowly, I raised my hand to the judge to signal he was not to interfere.

I circled the plaintiff’s desk as I buttoned my suit jacket before stepping up to her.

In business, I used every advantage, no matter how trivial, to get the upper hand.

One such advantage was my superior height.

Usually taller than the average man in the room, I completely towered over Stella’s slight frame.

She really was uncommonly beautiful, despite her age. With more maturity and life experience, I could see her becoming an absolutely stunning woman. At the moment, she was a little too thin, perhaps from her sudden grief. And her eyes held the wild, unguarded emotions of youth, rather than the calculated intelligence of a woman who knew her place in the world.

Recent events had shown me I needed to make some changes to my life.

Marriage, for one.

This wasn’t about love or any superfluous need for affection, but more about preservation.

My children had shown an admirable, if inconvenient, rebellious and stubborn nature as of late. It had become clear: if my vision for the future of my company was to be realized, I would need more offspring. And for that, I needed a wife.

The idea of searching for one was as distasteful as it would have been inconvenient.

Fortunately, the perfect prospect had practically fallen into my lap.

Stella.

Her father, that moron Wallace Oliver Deiderich, had decided to travel in an ice storm several months ago. He’d managed to kill himself, his wife, and the driver in a terrible crash. He had also very nearly killed his daughter.

It was chilling to recall. I had held her in my arms not moments before when she’d accidentally bumped into me on the sidewalk that night after slipping on the ice.

If I had known…

I recalled being intrigued not only by her beauty… but by her obvious hatred—of me.

Clearly her father had been distasteful enough to share his business woes with his wife and child. I imagine they were regaled over the dinner table with tales of my evil manipulations as I’d divested him of numerous companies and investments, significantly reducing not only his fortune but his influence.

I wouldn’t apologize for it.

Wallace was an idiot who had run those companies into the ground.

While the world and my peers may have perceived my actions as the worst of corporate greed, I knew the truth.

Over five thousand people, close to thirty-five hundred families, and four entire towns in the Midwest would have been eviscerated with unemployment, bankruptcy, and debt when his factories eventually closed from mismanagement—had I not stepped in.

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Reluctantly His – Gilded Decadence Read Online Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley http://www.booksnovels.com/reluctantly-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Mon, 27 May 2024 20:58:24 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/reluctantly-his-gilded-decadence-read-online-zoe-blake-alta-hensley Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Virgin Authors: Alta Hensley, Zoe Blake Advertisement

Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >81

First rule of being a bodyguard, don't f*ck the woman you're protecting.

And I want to break that rule so damn bad I can practically taste her.

She's innocent, sheltered, and spoiled.
As Reid Taylor, former Army sergeant and head of security for the Manwarrings, the last thing I should be doing is babysitting my boss's little sister.
I definitely shouldn't be fantasizing about pinning her down, spreading her thighs and…

It should help that she fights my protection at every turn.
Disobeying my rules. Running away from me. Talking back with that sexy, smart mouth of hers.
But it doesn't. It just makes me want her more.

I want to bend her over and claim her, hard and rough, until she begs for mercy.
That is a dangerous line I cannot cross.
She is an heiress, the precious daughter of one of the most powerful, multi-billionaire families in New York.
And I'm just her bodyguard, an employee. It would be the ultimate societal taboo.

But now her family is forcing her into an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure I'll be able to contain my rising rage at the idea of another man touching her.

Explore the intriguing secrets and dark longings of New York's elite as they come to life in this compelling series by USAT Bestselling authors Zoe Blake and Alta Hensley.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

CHARLOTTE

Without warning, I was snatched from behind and roughly pulled against a hard male body.

“Where do you think you’re going?” growled my father’s head of security, like a junkyard dog deprived of a bone.

Still reeling from my father’s demand that I now be followed around like a child, the last thing I wanted was to deal with anyone.

With my chin raised and my face averted, I wrenched my shoulder, trying to break the guard dog’s tight grasp. It didn’t work.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and responded tightly, “Kindly unhand me, Mr. Taylor. I’d like to leave.”

Closing my eyes, I envisioned the legato notes of Saint-Saëns’ The Swan to control my breathing and remain calm. Although I used the technique in cello practice, it had become a necessary tool of survival as a daughter in the Manwarring family.

In this family, I wasn’t a beloved daughter or sister.

I was a pawn.

An asset.

No different than a pile of stock certificates to be bought and traded to the highest bidder.

An object.

And apparently, like any object of value, I now needed to be guarded.

His hand shifted to caress the sensitive skin of my inner arm, just under the lace edge of my chiffon puff sleeve. “It’s either Sergeant Taylor, Sergeant—or if I’m pulling your hair, Reid— but never Mr. Taylor.”

Shocked by the subtle yet intimate gesture and his bold comment, I raised my face to his and gasped at the intensity of his dark gaze.

This was the closest I had ever been to him, to any man really.

Wealthy daughters of billionaire families might as well be displayed behind glass.

Always seen, never touched.

Pretty dolls to be admired for their silent obedience.

Recovering, my tongue flicked out to wet my dry lips. “If you are trying to get a reaction out of me, Sergeant Taylor, you are wasting your time.”

The constant pressure on generations of Manwarring women, to know their place and never say or do anything to embarrass the family, had turned me into the perfect diamond. Something bright and shiny with no more emotions than a piece of stone.

His head pivoted to scan the empty corridor before he tightened his hold on my arm and swung us in an arc until we were secluded from view in the darkened alcove which housed a tall, bronze sculpture of a naked couple in a sensual embrace.

My heart raced as panic made me light-headed. Or was it his nearness?

Either way, I knew my father was only steps away in his office.

As I was the last remaining obedient sibling, it had been made clear to me he would not tolerate even the slightest break in propriety.

Not after what Olivia had done.

And certainly not after the scandal my brother had caused.

Reid braced his forearm over my head. “What’s the matter, princess? Are my dirty, lower-class hands too rough for your soft, blue blood skin?”

His comment brought my focus back to the warm, rough sensation of his hands on me. A shiver ran up my spine.

This was wrong. Really wrong.

By breathing intensified.

Princess.

Of course he’d call me a princess. I had heard it all: princess, snow queen, duchess, spoiled bitch. There was no point in complaining or explaining. No one wanted to hear the problems of the poor little rich girl.

Not that I blamed them.

Restrained masculine power radiated off him like heat.

I was used to being surrounded by men with power, but this was different. With those men, their power came from paper. Arbitrary figures plucked from thin air.

Sergeant’s power was primal. The kind that came from heavy muscle, an iron will, and the arrogance of knowing you could break a man’s neck with your bare hands.

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