Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com Sat, 10 Oct 2026 20:14:49 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1.3 http://www.booksnovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Jessica Gadziala – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com 32 32 Ruling the Green Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/ruling-the-green-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sat, 10 Oct 2026 20:14:49 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ruling-the-green-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)

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Jet wants the crown.

Unfortunately, his father—the mad king—has no plans of giving it up.

With the throne growing increasingly unstable and powerful allies plotting a quiet rebellion, Jet has enough problems without being forced into marriage.

When the wedding day arrives, he discovers a deception: the woman at the altar isn’t the daughter of one of his father’s most powerful allies. She’s a stranger. Wanting the whole charade over with, he goes through with the ceremony anyway, deciding to deal with the consequences later.

His bride has problems of her own.

Kidnapped, drugged, and forced into marriage to the Dark Prince, she finds herself part of a political ploy she couldn’t even begin to understand.

And the longer Jet keeps his mysterious bride at his side, the more he starts to wonder if she was exactly the kind of woman he wanted…
and the queen he needs at his side

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

CHAPTER ONE

Serin

A dragonfly flirted with the water, skipping like a stone across the surface before taking flight on gossamer wings that reflected like stained glass in the early morning light.

My bones felt weighted and sluggish as I made my way toward the edge of the lake. The water called to me—a shivering sensation that moved down my spine, begging me closer, promising to ease the aches and pains assaulting every inch of my body from being away for too long.

“Hello,” I cooed to a little frog sitting on a lily pad, watching the surface of the water for his breakfast.

He looked over but didn’t startle or hop off.

We were old friends, the frogs and I.

They lived in my lake after all.

“I wouldn’t try it,” I warned as the dragonfly dove downward near him. “He’s way too big for you.”

I dipped my feet into the lake, feeling the cool water tease my ankles, feeling it sing in my veins, chasing away the soreness in my soles from the long walk over twigs and rocks and brambles all night.

Just before dusk, a sweet little duckling had gotten itself tangled in some vines at the edge of the lake. His duck family hadn’t realized and had taken off without him.

By the time I’d gotten the sweet thing untangled, his family was long gone and I’d needed to search the woods for hours to find them.

I slipped deeper into the water, my pale green dress billowing around my body as I walked out until the ground fell away, then let myself slip under.

Vitality spread through me, making the exhaustion that had been tugging at my bones, weighing on my eyes, slowly slip away.

Surfacing, I lay back on the surface, watching the sun dapple through the trees, warming my face.

The water rippled beside me, making me turn to see a snake wiggling through the water. The frog, giving up on breakfast, smartly hopped back to the land and disappeared.

At the bank, a fawn moved out of a clearing and lowered her lips to the water, drinking long after a night without.

The early mornings at my lake were my favorite, watching the wildlife come alive, drawn toward my water, knowing it would help sustain them.

I had no memory of coming here myself, of my origins. I just knew I’d always been here. Connected to the water. Blessed to have it nourish me.

There were days, back when curiosity got the worst of me, that I tried to venture away, wondering what else there might be in the world. But with each mile I trekked, I felt myself wasting away. I would return, angry and bitter to be drained.

But the years had erased my restlessness, had softened me, shown me the beauty of my home.

I couldn’t imagine leaving for more than just a few moments.

Below me, I felt a tug. One of the fish mistaking my dress for food.

With a smile, I lowered back under the surface, flipping over to watch all the life moving beneath me.

A pretty green bass swam up toward me.

But before he could get close, I felt it.

Them.

I felt them.

Hands reaching down.

Hands sinking in.

Grabbing.

Bruising.

The water muffled my scream, reducing it to a burst of bubbles as I was dragged up. Up.

I broke the surface, mouth open to cry out as pain shot up my arms and shoulders.

“No!” I shrieked, flailing, scratching, grabbing.

To no avail.

The man was a beast, each of his thighs nearly as wide as my entire body, his corded arms effortlessly pulling me up out of the water.

While beautifully removed from most of the world—and the evil therein—I wasn’t naive either.

I knew the dangers for women alone in the woods.

I knew the depravity of wicked men’s desires.

No corner of the world was safe from that kind of evil.

“Stop fighting,” the giant—maybe a troll, though I wasn’t wasting time noticing inconsequential details—roared.

Slippery, I managed to wrench one of my hands from his and felt myself partially dipping back into the water. The surge of vitality shot through me again, invigorating my efforts.

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The Woman with the Handcuffs (Costa Family #14) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/the-woman-with-the-handcuffs-costa-family-14-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sat, 10 Oct 2026 20:14:23 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-woman-with-the-handcuffs-costa-family-14-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Mafia Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)

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She had a plan: hold the mafia boss captive and make him tell her what he did with her missing father.

The problem started when she realized she had absolutely no idea how to successfully hold someone captive. Her gun was fake. Her handcuff skills? Questionable. And she was physically incapable of torturing someone without getting sick.

When it became clear that the mob didn’t hurt her father, she found herself suddenly teaming up with—and falling for—the grumpy, reclusive mafia capo.

But the more they uncovered about her father, the more questions she had.

And the closer she got to the truth, the more she feared she may have to choose between he answers she needed and the man she’s come to love…

* This book can be read as a standalone

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

CHAPTER ONE

Gavino

“Yo, I’m fucking talking to you.” Leondro snapped a finger in my face.

“I’m listening.” I wasn’t.

“You might be listening, but you’re not hearing me,” Leo said, pausing to wait for me to try to deny it. I didn’t. “Look, I know you’re anxious to get back to whatever anime-porn-spank-bank, Lit-RPG, boring-ass documentary, Luddite hermitage you call a life, but I need you to focus for five minutes.”

He was pretty spot-on with all those. Except the anime porn. Otherwise, it was almost alarming how well he knew how I spent my time when I was almost always doing so alone.

“These meetings could almost always be a phone call.”

“And if you were paying attention, you would know this isn’t some family update. This is about a job.”

No one would ever accuse me of being the biggest earner in the Costa Family. Whatever gene all my brothers and cousins were born with seemed to skip me.

I’d worked hard when I was younger just so I could get myself Made, get my capo status, get a crew of soldiers and associates who did all the actual work and kicked the money up to me, then be allowed to be left to my own devices the rest of the time.

Except, of course, when my family got squirrelly about my lifestyle and staged makeshift interventions talking about shit like depression and being worried about me.

But I wasn’t depressed.

I just liked what I liked. And I liked my low-tech home, my boring-ass documentaries, my books, delivery food, and being left the fuck alone.

Try telling that to a deeply enmeshed mafia family, though.

That said, I did care about jobs. Because those going smoothly were what allowed me to continue life on my terms.

I glanced back toward the coffee house we were meeting at. Bustling, even in the off-hours, with a rack of every single kind of syrup known to mankind and two colored-haired, tattooed, pierced baristas handling the rush with a calm, practiced sort of grace.

It was the kind of place my brother knew I hated. Trendy and too bright with coffee prices you’d need to take a second mortgage out on your house to afford a yearly habit.

Though, to be fair, meeting at my preferred coffee place—a dark, dirty, run-down bodega on the corner near my house, who sold coffee so strong it was almost thick—wasn’t conducive to a private conversation.

“Alright,” I said, exhaling, “I’m listening.”

“One of your associates went missing.”

“Who?”

Associates were a dime a dozen. Low-level guys who wanted to be in the mob, so they were willing to do whatever grunt work you threw at them. They took most of the risk with the lowest amount of reward. It wouldn’t be surprising if someone had enough of it and wanted to walk away.

“Daniel Hall.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“One of the long-haul truckers.”

“Fuck.”

Any other associate and I would have brushed it off. But the long-haul trucker scheme was my most profitable one. Even the loss of one trucker could mean hundreds of thousands, if not millions, in profits lost.

“When did he run off?”

“No, Gav. He’s missing,” Leo explained. “There’s a missing person’s report and everything.”

That was even weirder.

“Did he go missing from his home?

“No. His rig was found on the side of a road. No Daniel.”

“Was he hauling product at the time?”

“I don’t know. Just got the word an hour ago. I have to check the routes and talk to our connections.”

“How long ago was this?” If he was long-hauling, there was no reason to assume he was anywhere near us. So the information wouldn’t have hit our local news.

“One of our soldiers got suspicious about not hearing from him yesterday, so he started looking into it. They found the rig two weeks ago.”

Dammit.

Any leads we could have had to go on would be long cold.

“Was the rig impounded?”

“No.”

“No?”

“The owner of the trucking company took it. We are working on all the angles now. Should have boots on the ground in a few hours. We will hopefully have some answers by then.”

“Do we have any leads on other truckers who might be options to replace him?”

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Something Like Shelter Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/something-like-shelter-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 10 Sep 2026 17:29:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/something-like-shelter-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >61

She knows how to manage millions of dollars for her clients.

But a newborn, a crumbling house, and doing motherhood all alone? That’s a little harder to handle.

When a pipe bursts, she calls the handyman who’s been repairing her money-pit for years. He’s watched her life change from the sidelines, even if she never realized he was paying attention.

Now he’s watching her navigate motherhood, one exhausted day at a time.

The bathroom repair should have taken a few days.

Instead, the project drags on for weeks.

And the more time he spends in her home, the harder it becomes to ignore the way he’s falling for her—and the baby who has completely stolen his heart…

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

CHAPTER ONE

Willa

The days no longer had any order.

They blurred instead—dissolving around the edges, each moment slipping through my fingers before I could even grab hold of it.

Morning was only a suggestion.

Afternoon, a guess.

And night crept in nearly unnoticed, folding gently around my shoulders while I swayed at the window, my newborn tucked against my chest.

The house had become impossibly quiet.

For the first several weeks, my home had been full of noise—laughter that carried down the halls, footsteps crossing rooms as someone paced with my baby, quiet reassurances, the soft whoosh of the dishwasher.

Now, though, it felt like the house held its breath with me.

The silence was impossibly loud.

Like it had expanded into the space left behind after my family and friends had slowly returned to their own lives.

In the early days, someone had always been there.

Someone to pass me a fresh cup of tea.

Someone to tell me that the baby would sleep eventually.

Someone to hold my daughter while I took a shower three days overdue.

And as much as I’d appreciated them, it felt important for me to learn to do this on my own, to settle into this new life.

Now, there was only this small universe of two.

Me and my baby.

In a house too large for two fragile, sleepless hearts.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure which of us needed to hear it more.

I believed it. Somewhere deep in my soul. Buried under all the insecurities and uncertainties.

Sure, the fatigue had become something that lived deep in my bones. And, yes, my hair was limp and greasy. Parts of me ached that I’d never been aware of before.

But beneath the exhaustion, the loneliness, the quiet, the disorienting pace of this new life—there was wonder.

There was a fierce, yet breath-stealing tenderness that I’d never felt before.

It arrived without warning, settling in my chest at the smallest of things: the curl of tiny fingers, the delicate weight of her little body, the soft cooing sounds she made.

Love, I had learned, was an all-consuming thing.

Immense.

Ever-spreading.

Limitless.

I crossed back toward the glider as the first golden rays of light flirted across the floorboards, highlighting dust that had settled in places I’d been too distracted to notice, let alone clean.

I made a mental note that was likely going to be buried under the next diaper change, the toppling tower of laundry, and my near-empty fridge that needed stocking.

“Is today the day we venture out of the house?” I asked the baby who was still looking up at me with wide eyes, despite being awake nearly the whole night.

All those real-life things felt suspended. They used to shape my former life: my car, the gym, work, errands, outings with friends and family.

Outside, the world continued on without me at its usual breakneck pace.

Inside, even my thoughts seemed to move differently—softer, slower, everything becoming gentler.

Adelaide grumbled, prompting me to start rocking the glider.

Little by little, her small breaths evened out into that delicate, hypnotic rhythm that I’d come to measure my whole existence by.

Her little eyelids drooped, closed, then stayed that way.

I sat there, too worried to move, tired beyond language, but heart unbearably full.

And the phrase crossed my mind again.

It’s going to be okay.

This hadn’t been the future I’d painstakingly laid out for myself in my five-year plan.

This was supposed to follow a very precise, carefully laid-out schedule. I had footnotes and contingency plans.

None of them included two pink lines without a ring on my finger, without a partner to share the labor of parenthood.

I was a bit scared to move.

But I really, really wanted some tea.

I leaned my head back against the cushion, glancing around the room as the morning light brightened even the darkest corners.

My brother and father had painstakingly painted the floral mural in muted pinks and yellows on the wall behind the crib. My mother had brought the soft linen bedding all the way from France. My aunts, uncles, and cousins had built, bought, or restored all of the furniture, the toys, the blankets, and the clothing tucked into the closet.

I wasn’t alone, not really.

Everyone was just a call away.

What can I say other than that my own stubborn hyper-independence was what had me not reaching for my phone to ask one of the many members of my inner circle (who’d offered a dozen times) to go to the store for me.

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York (Golden Glades Henchmen MC #13) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/york-golden-glades-henchmen-mc-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 10 Sep 2026 17:29:23 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/york-golden-glades-henchmen-mc-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Golden Glades Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

Years ago, I had a one-night stand with a woman I never thought I’d see again.
Then she walked into my clubhouse with a little girl whose eyes looked enough like mine to knock the air from my lungs.
They’ve been chased from state to state for years but no matter where they went, they were never safe.
Now it’s my job to protect them.
And make the men who hurt them pay…

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

CHAPTER ONE

York

“Why does Calvin have Cherry’s bra on his head?” I asked as I glanced out the back window to see the old man sitting with his legs in the pool, his mostly bald head getting pink in the unyielding late afternoon sun.

“Tequila. Tequila is the reason,” Dixon said, waving an empty handle in the air.

“His wife is gonna be pissed.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, gesturing back to the window.

I turned.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

Because there was Calvin’s wife, Maud, jumping off the diving board. Topless. In nothing but her giant parachute panties that came up under her boobs.

I mean, I was all for everyone feeling comfortable with their bodies, but seeing eighty-year-old tits hadn’t exactly been a goal of mine. Until I was eighty, maybe. And I damn sure didn’t know that not only did Maud have a bright red boob tattoo of a rose but she’d also pierced her nipples. Something told me those were new additions.

When we’d first met Calvin and Maud, they’d been typical grandparent types. You know the type: khaki pants, sensible bright white shoes, tucked in shirts, hankies in their pockets.

I mean, I’d literally heard Calvin say shit like “heavens to Betsy,” and “I’m so mad I could spit nails.”

They played bridge and bingo and read the obituaries for fun.

But then Calvin started coming over to the club with some of his buddies. Drinking, partying, looking at the half-naked club girls. Until, inevitably, Maud would come storming over, grab him by the ear, and drag him back across the street to the retirement village, while giving us all an ear lashing about his medications, heart, age.

Apparently, when I wasn’t paying attention, she’d had a real change of heart. A tit-tattooing change of heart.

“When’d this happen?”

“She joined that horny lady book club over there.”

“The book club you routinely do yard work half-naked for?”

“Yeah, that one,” Dixon, shameless, admitted. “Guess one of the books got her heart racing. She dusted off the cobwebs, grabbed a bottle of gin, and decided to start living the last decade of her life instead of surviving it.”

“Oh, not just any of the books,” Velle said, coming down from the back staircase. “Wanna take a wild shot in the dark what sub-genre of romance she got into?” He walked over to a woven beach bag tied with a floral silk scarf and dropped a paperback on the counter.

On the cover was a half-naked couple on a motorcycle.

“Biker romance,” he said with a chuckle.

“Shit,” I said, shaking my head. “Might wanna make sure you keep your keys hidden. Those two might sneak off for a joyride when no one is looking.”

“And do some… joyriding while they’re at it,” Dixon said. “Calvin was telling me all about this new prescription he got from his doctor.”

“Didn’t need that mental image,” I said with a laugh.

“Eh, it’s sweet. I hope I still want to fuck the shit out of my wife when we’re both wrinkled and saggy,” Velle said.

“What wife?” Dixon shot back.

“Hey, way these guys are getting scooped up, I figure it’ll be my turn sooner or later.”

“Better you than me,” I said. Though part of that was bluster. Yes, I was having fun being free and fucking around all I wanted. But I was older than these guys. And the idea of finding someone to settle down with was starting to have more and more appeal.

“If this club is anything to go by, wedded bliss will come for us all sooner or later,” Dixon said.

“You better hope your future wife isn’t the jealous sort, or you’re gonna deeply disappoint your book club,” I told him. But my smile fell a little when I looked back out the window. “Christ. We’re gonna need to turn the hose on them.”

Dixon glanced out, watching Maud swim between her husband’s legs, one of her hands suspiciously absent while Calvin cupped her ass.

But before we had to be the bad guys, Huck came striding over from the direction of his house. “Yo. I’ll tolerate the nudity, but if you’re gonna be fucking, you gotta take that shit indoors. There’s kids around.”

Giggling like two horny teenagers, the couple got up, grabbed towels and their clothes, then hurried around the house.

Huck came in the back door a moment later. “Where the fuck do you get underwear that big? You could make a sail out of that much material,” he said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and chugging it.

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Raff (Shady Valley Henchmen #10) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/raff-shady-valley-henchmen-10-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:14:42 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/raff-shady-valley-henchmen-10-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Shady Valley Henchmen Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >77

Lula spent years telling Raff exactly why he’s not her type.

He’s an outlaw biker: carefree, reckless, wholly unserious, and the biggest flirt she’s ever met. She’s the accountant who cooks the books for the mob. Lula likes order. Spreadsheets. Five-year plans.

Then one mistake destroys everything she’d worked so hard for.

Desperate to fix it, she sets out to find the man who ruined it all. Which means accepting help from the one man she’d been telling herself she doesn’t want but might just be exactly what she needs

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

CHAPTER ONE

Raff

Look.

I didn’t mean to start the bar brawl.

Sometimes, shit just happens.

Did shit happen a lot around me? Yeah. Sure. Especially since I started doing the lion’s share of the trips through the South to procure weapons for the club by myself. I liked being on the road. The others weren’t as big a fan.

I’d been laid up for a long time with a knife wound to my thigh. I had some extra steam to blow off.

Besides, could I even be blamed for this one?

The woman climbed up on the bar herself.

She spread the line of salt between her tits, set the tequila shot glass on her bellybutton, and the lime between her teeth.

Was I really supposed to not lick, sip, and bite?

How was I supposed to know her boyfriend would walk in and get all butt hurt about it? It wasn’t like she was branded with his name.

Fine.

She was.

But it was a tramp stamp.

How was I supposed to see it until she climbed off the bar?

By then, I had a fist the size of a fucking catcher’s mitt in my face.

And, hey, it’s hard to apologize when you have a mouth full of your own blood, y’know?

The problem was, the dude came with a whole group of his friends. And his friends got into it with my friends. Bones were breaking. Blood was flying. The distant sound of sirens was drawing closer.

“We gotta go. We gotta go,” York said, snagging my wrist and dragging me up off the floor and pulling me toward the door.

Velle and Dixon followed us out the door, the Florida heat slapping us in the face as soon as we stepped outside, the humidity making sweat bead up on my brows and scalp as we ran toward the bikes parked in the lot. Mine was borrowed since I came to Florida with an old beater sedan that was outfitted to hide the guns I purchased from various shows or private sellers.

Our engines roared to life, and we pulled out of the lot and down the street just as the cops made their way into the bar parking lot, sirens blaring, red and blue lights flashing.

My face was throbbing in time with my heartbeat as we drove through the swampy backroads on our way back toward the clubhouse in Golden Glades.

I swallowed back more of my blood and ran my tongue across the gash on the inside of my lip where the punch made my teeth bite into the sensitive flesh.

“The fuck happened?” Huck, the president of the club, asked as we pulled into the driveway and parked.

“Bar fight,” York admitted.

Huck’s gaze slid right to me. “What’d you do?”

“How’d you know it was me?” I asked, smiling with blood in my teeth.

“Because Coast and Remy are retired from the bar life,” Huck said.

“You gonna tell on me to Daddy Slash?” I asked, meaning my club chapter president.

“Pretty sure he can see it for himself when you make your ass back to California,” Huck said, shaking his head at me. “I was looking for you,” he added.

“What for?”

“I got a call from Zayn. He wanted me to put in an order.”

Zayn was an international arms dealer connected to the Golden Glades club. But because his clients wanted more weapons than Huck and his club could feasibly supply on their own, I picked up extra guns on my travels to sell to Huck, who unloaded them to Zayn.

“I just gave you half of what I had.” Slash would not be happy if I came back to Shady Valley with an empty car. Which either meant I dealt with his anger… or I extended my trip and picked up more guns on my way back.

“No, this is for a specialty gun. Specially built, if you know what I mean.”

I knew what he meant.

One of my club brothers, Sway, was with a woman who was a weapons designer. But she made all the shit herself. Which meant it wasn’t cheap.

“That’s gonna cost,” I warned.

“Trust me, this client can pay.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to Murphy as soon as I get back to Shady Valley. Put her in touch with you, and you can figure it out from there.”

“Good. Appreciate it. Now go ice that eye before it swells so much that you can’t drive your troublemaking ass out of here tomorrow.”

It might not have sounded like it, but Huck loved my trouble-making ass. He was a president who found reckless behavior more amusing than frustrating. It probably reminded him of his early life before he settled down and started a family.

I made my way inside the clubhouse, snatching a frozen bag of peas out of the air as it was thrown at me.

“How’s everyone’s damage?” I asked, looking around at York, Velle, and Dixon. Velle had a split lip and bruised jaw. Dixon’s shirt was ripped and bloody from his nose taking a hit. But York, that mammoth, lumberjack fuck, seemed mostly uninjured, save for the splits on his knuckles.

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Rune (Henchmen MC Next Generation #16) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/rune-henchmen-mc-next-generation-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:03:09 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/rune-henchmen-mc-next-generation-16-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Crime, MC Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >77

The last thing he expected was for a beautiful woman to storm into the clubhouse looking for him with a gun in her hand and murder in her eyes.

But she was clearly connected to a chapter in his life that he’d spent years trying to forget as he started his new life over in the club.

When she gets away from him, he has no choice but to follow her for answers.

Before long, he’s tangled up in a mystery that’s turning deadly.

Someone doesn’t want the truth uncovered.

And every step they take puts a target on their backs, even as it pushes them closer together

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

CHAPTER ONE

Rune

The blonde let out a high-pitched squeal as the redhead whacked her with the inflatable baton and finally loosened her slippery hold on my shoulders with her legs, sending her crashing backward into the water.

She surfaced, sputtering, as the redhead threw up her baton in victory while she sat on my brother’s shoulders.

“You good?” I asked as the blonde pulled herself up onto the edge of the pool, trying to wipe the eyeliner that had smudged under her eyes.

“I want to blame you for this,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me, “but I lose every time we play, no matter whose shoulders I’m on.”

“You’re taller, which makes you easier to hit. Also, your legs flail when you get whacked,” I told her.

“They do not.”

“They do.”

“Consolatory drink?” Spike asked, moving to drop down next to the blonde and offering her something red in a glass… with an umbrella.

He nodded toward the clubhouse in a universal ‘get lost’ gesture. Maybe another night, I would have been annoyed by that. But I wasn’t really vibing with the blonde. Or anyone else at the party, to be honest. And judging by the way the blonde giggled and leaned into the tall, dark-haired, slim-fit biker, I figured he was halfway on his way to having a very good night.

It wasn’t that the parties had gotten old, per se.

There was always a different kind of energy to them when the club had new prospects like Spike and Cain.

It was probably more that, for the first time since coming back to Navesink Bank, I was the most senior club member at the parties. It changed the vibe. I felt more in charge and less like someone who was just there to have some fun.

Add in the fact that not only was my twin brother here, but so was our younger brother, Vas. And two of our cousins around the same age: Ronan and Carver. Those three weren’t technically prospects yet, but it would be coming soon.

I felt like I’d spent half the night making sure no one did anything so stupid it couldn’t be undone.

The responsibility of it, that suddenly took me back. To another place, another organization, another phase of my life that I’d walked away from declaring that I never wanted the mantle of leadership again.

That was what was so appealing about the club. Yeah, some part of me knew my brothers and I would always find our way back to that life, but it took on a new meaning to know not only was Fallon the one in charge, but he was followed by Brooks, Malcolm, and a whole list of other guys who would outrank me. No one would be looking to me to make life-or-death decisions again. I’d never have anyone’s fate on my conscience again.

Objectively, I knew I could relax. There was very little trouble these guys could get into. But some roles stuck with you: big brother, leader.

Cain moved in at my side, surveying the grounds with me.

Like Spike, he was a newer prospect. Unlike Spike, he wasn’t a lifelong delinquent. Cain had been on the other side of the law for most of his life, working SWAT until he saw some shit he couldn’t look past in his crew, reported it, and got kicked out on his ass for it.

The two men were as contrasted in looks as they were in their histories. While both were tall, Spike was almost thin, whereas Cain was a big fan of the gym. Spike’s face was thinner with cheekbone hollows that almost made him gaunt-looking, black hair and black eyes. Cain had a square jaw, dark blond hair, and blue eyes.

“Looking for fires to put out?” he asked.

“Not used to having my little cousins and brother here.”

“Get that they might be ‘little’ to you, but they’re grown men.”

Grown men.

Christ.

When did that happen?

I could swear it was just a year or so ago that I was grumbling that they were always hanging around me and the older kids like little lost puppies.

He wasn’t wrong, though.

Vas, my youngest sibling, had shot up like a weed while Croft and I were away. Then he’d filled out like a man, looking more like our father every day.

Ronan and Carver were both tall and fit too, like all three got a deal on a fucking gym membership and used the hell out of it. Gone was all the baby fat on their faces, chiseling them out.

It was a strange feeling sometimes being back. There was a familiarity spliced with the unknown. Because I’d been gone during some of the most formative years of their lives. When they stopped just being kids and became actual human beings. I knew what shows they liked as kids, what embarrassing shit they used to do, but I had no idea who they actually were anymore. And it was that way with all the cousins. It’d taken me a long time to get to know the ones in the club already, and the princesses. It was really just these younger ones that were still basically strangers to me.

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The Woman in the Pawnshop (Costa Family #13) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/the-woman-in-the-pawnshop-costa-family-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:45:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-woman-in-the-pawnshop-costa-family-13-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

Years ago, he vanished before he could take his place in the organization.

Now he’s back—older, harder, and responsible for two kids who lost everything.

The family he left behind has moved on. The men he once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with had become bosses, while he’s stuck running cash pickups while he tries to earn his way back in.

But a routine stop at a pawnshop changes everything.

The woman behind the counter is everything he wants but can’t have: smart-mouthed, stubborn, and strong. Worse, his niece and nephew adore her.

He’s determined to stay away. But when she finds herself in the middle of the mystery and is violently attacked, he takes her in to help her heal as they try to figure out what someone might be willing to kill for…

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

CHAPTER ONE

Christopher

This place used to be as familiar to me as my own home. More so. Now, it felt like staring up at a stranger’s house.

I guess, in a way, it was.

I’d been gone for a long time.

I’d been so busy that I’d barely even kept in touch.

All these people I used to know as well as I knew myself might as well be strangers. Hell, I knew I was going to be just as much a stranger to them. So much had changed. I had changed. In more ways than I could even count. Sometimes, I barely even recognized myself.

The man I’d been the last time I stood looking up at this brownstone was so much younger. Hardened, yes, by this life, by the instability of the previous leadership. But lighter. Less weighed down by life.

I barely even knew what had gone down with the family since I’d been called away. I got the marriage and birth announcements. For women I’d never met. Whose stories I didn’t know.

I was still part enough of the organization that I got highlight reels here and there, mostly from the boss’s wife, Gigi, but that was it. I didn’t know shit about what had gone down with the business, who the major players were, or, it seemed, who some of the new members of the organization were.

Because I had no fucking idea who the guy standing guard at the door was.

He was a good-looking kid, everything about him screaming ‘mobster’: tall, fit, black hair, brown eyes, classic bone structure, and put together in a nice suit.

My own suit felt heavy and itchy. I once lived in them, wore them like a second skin. But it had been so long since I’d worn one. I felt like everyone could tell they didn’t quite belong on me anymore.

Finally clocking that I was looking a little too long, the guard glanced at me. “You got business here, get about it. Otherwise, get gone.”

My lips curved up slightly, remembering how things like that used to come out of my own mouth.

Fuck, it felt weird to be back.

“I need to see Lorenzo.”

“Yeah? I need a long weekend on a beach with Megan Fox. But that ain’t happening either. Fuck off.”

I stepped closer, watching the way his hand slipped into his jacket.

“Tell him Christopher is here to see him.”

“Christopher? That supposed to mean something?”

“It will to him.”

He watched me for a second before reaching to open the door, keeping his eye on me until he was inside.

It was maybe ten seconds later when the door flew open.

And there he was.

The capo dei capi of the New York mafia.

The last time I’d seen him, he’d just taken over for his old man.

He looked older, with some gray threading into his dark hair. Then again, I didn’t look the same either.

“Holy shit,” Lorenzo said, a smile breaking across his face. “I didn’t believe Nero when he said a Christopher was here. Man, what the fuck?”

He jogged down the steps toward me, then wrapped me up in a bear hug.

“Haven’t seen your face in fucking ages,” he said as we broke apart.

“Yeah. It’s… weird to be back.”

“Weird? To be back with family? Dunno if I like how that sounds. How have—”

“Boss,” the kid—Nero—called, “hate to be this guy, but you’re not supposed to be on the street right now.”

“Something going down?” I asked, feeling a surge of adrenaline that I hadn’t experienced in years. But there was something familiar and almost comforting about it. Maybe because it was a sign that my body did remember this, that it would all come back to me if I just gave it time.

“Always something,” he said, slapping my shoulder and leading me up the stairs to the brownstone. “Nero, this is Chris. He’s a, fuck, what is it? Second cousin once removed or some shit? Chris, this is Nero. One of Miko’s brothers.”

“Miko,” I repeated.

“Shit, yeah. You have been gone a while. Miko was an associate under Cosimo a while back. He’s a capo now. This fuck is hoping to get there one day.”

A whole new generation getting Made.

That should have been me years ago.

If life had gone differently.

I shook away those thoughts, trying not to let the feelings about being left behind take hold and root.

My life went differently.

Got sidetracked for a while.

I was getting it back on track now.

“Used to have your job,” I told Nero.

“Want it back?” he asked, shooting me a smirk.

Young and hungry.

I remembered those days.

I moved into the townhouse with a man who used to be like a brother to me.

It had been nothing like this the last time I’d been inside. Lorenzo had just started renovating when I left. It looked like a whole home now.

I could see his wife, Gigi, all around in the décor. And evidence of the kids all around: a half-built model car on the coffee table, a pile of children’s books on an end table, a forgotten single sock.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

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Mermaid in Manhattan Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/mermaid-in-manhattan-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 14 May 2026 08:58:11 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/mermaid-in-manhattan-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

Let's get wet!Iris loves being a mermaid. So, when her Mom, Queen of the Ocean, declares that she’s to be wed to a human, she’s furious.

Finn wants to be the first human mayor of magical New York. He needs a magical wife as part of his PR strategy to win over his constituents, and he’s fine with a loveless marriage.

But after his reluctant fiancé Iris douses him with seawater at their first meeting, Finn finds himself wanting this romance to be more than a business arrangement.

Iris can’t stand Finn on principle, but no matter how far she pushes him, Finn just won’t break off their engagement. In fact, he keeps going out of his way to make her life easier. And soon, this mermaid is left wondering if life might be better in Manhattan than under the sea…

👰 💐Arranged marriage

🛏️ 🔥Only one bed

🧜 ✨Romantasy

🥵 🌶️Spice

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

1

Iris

Iris broke the surface with a flick of her pearlescent green tail, sending droplets scattering like diamonds in the morning light. Humming softly, she pulled herself up onto her favorite sun-warmed rock, arching into a lazy stretch that set water rolling down her arms, the salt water glistening on her skin.

Was there anything better than a refreshing swim in the summer sea? Perfect temperature. Perfect lighting. Zero responsibilities.

She reached back to wring the water from her hair and felt something crinkly in the strands. Not seaweed—unless seaweed had started using packaging.

With a sigh, she pulled out a plastic wrapper, the logo faded to oblivion by sun and salt.

“Seriously?” she muttered, crumpling it up. She reached back into her hair, this time encountering a length of broken fishing line. Once again.

“Oh, come on.” She carefully untangled it from her pink waves with the patience of someone who had done so way too many times, then folded it up with the wrapper like she was collecting ocean-trash trading cards.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why it was so hard for trash to make its way into a garbage can.

Humans.

Flopping back, Iris closed her eyes and tried to forget the trash as the sun dried the water on her skin.

There was a flutter above her, interrupting her perfect solitude. Sure, it could be a random gull. But nope. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know who it was.

Montague Featherington.

Monty, for short. Drama, for long.

Iris had named him herself when she’d been eight and going through her ‘everyone deserves a ridiculously formal title’ phase. Right before she’d stolen an enchanted pearl—that she totally wasn’t supposed to take—that, when gifted to the pelican, granted him the ability to speak.

He had been loving the sound of his own voice ever since.

“Hey, Monty,” she said, shading her eyes with one hand. “How are you doing?”

“How am I doing?” he repeated, already winding up. “Emotionally adrift. Spiritually soggy. And some thieving seagull stole my favorite thinking rock. What does he have to contemplate? Which human he’s going to mug today? The gulls have no interiority. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.” He nodded his giant beak for emphasis. “But I am hanging on by a feather. And sheer spite. Allow me a melodramatic sigh.”

Iris smiled. “You can borrow this rock if you promise not to monologue at it.”

“Tempting, but I prefer the acoustics by the cliff. Better echo.” He ruffled his feathers. “Shouldn’t you be with Her Majesty?”

“My mother?” Iris blinked. “Why?”

“Because, dearest sea spawn, you mentioned a super important meeting last week. With capital letters and everything.”

“That’s today?” Iris yelped, the edge of her tail slapping the water and sending droplets flying.

“According to my internal calendar and innate sense of dramatic timing—yes. And you’re thirty-two minutes late. Not that anyone’s counting. Except me. And your mother.”

“For Triton’s sake!” Iris yelped, vanishing beneath the waves like a startled fish and launching into a desperate, splashy sprint.

Her mother, Tatiana, was a lot of things: powerful, elegant, and entirely over Iris’s shenanigans. Being late to a meeting she’d had a week’s warning about was just another notch against her.

If she was lucky she would be sentenced to eel duty again. The royal singing eels were a barbershop trio who couldn’t harmonize to save their slimy lives and never, ever slept.

If she wasn’t lucky, she’d be forced to massage the crabs at the royal spa. And they were entitled and pinchy.

By the time Iris reached the seafloor, her stomach was in knots as she pictured her mother seated on her seashell throne, tapping her fingernails against her arm in irritation.

“Hey, Carl,” she called to the palace gate guard, who pulled open the massive whale-boned gates with the weary look of a merman who’d seen too many late princesses in his time. “Don’t say it,” she added.

Carl said nothing. His eyebrow, however, spoke volumes.

She shot past the palace’s lush kelp gardens, where electric-blue gobies darted between fronds, blissfully unaware that they were being watched by snarly kelp dragonettes.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

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Colter (Shady Valley Henchmen #9) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/colter-shady-valley-henchmen-9-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:38:21 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/colter-shady-valley-henchmen-9-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Shady Valley Henchmen Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

He didn’t see it coming.
Deals go bad. That’s part of life. But he had no idea how close he came to losing everything—until the man behind him drops and he realizes he’d been a target.
Then he’d been saved.
By her.
But she’s gone before he can figure out why she’d rescued him.

She didn’t mean to step in.
But after everything those guys took from her, she couldn’t stand around and watch them create any more damage.
And now she’s got more problems than she asked for.
The last thing she needs is another man in her way.
Too bad he’s isn’t the kind to walk away.
And when his club gets involved, things take a turn she’d never seen coming

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

CHAPTER ONE

Colter

“Do I want to know why there are four bras in the freezer?” Detroit asked. He had four steaks in his hand that he moved to a platter in the fridge to defrost.

“Three words,” I said, shooting him a smirk.

“Let me guess: Raff, Saint, and Syn.”

“Bingo.”

“Been a bit since the club was this insane,” Detroit said, shaking his head.

“You’re up and out early.”

“The kids and Everleigh all got a stomach bug. I’ve been forced into quarantine because, as she says, ‘One of us needs to not have their head in the toilet all day.’ And I’m bored as shit over there. Figured I’d hit the gym, but I stopped here to defrost some steaks.”

“Because no one in your house is eating and you hate cooking just for yourself?”

“You know me well.”

Detroit used to cook for the club multiple times a day. But becoming a husband and father had stolen a lot of his time.

In his absence, the diner in town had been getting a lot of business from us. And the prepared food section at the supermarket.

We’d each tried our hand at cooking. But, well, I’d spent most of my adulthood eating prepared meals or MREs in the military.

Raff spent most of his time on the road, eating fast food or gas station hot dogs.

Syn had been living in a damn storage locker for years with no way to cook.

And Saint, well, Saint had been in prison.

Though out of all of us, he was the only one who could cook a half-edible meal. I figured that might have to do with having to raise his much younger brother. He made a mean breakfast omelet and had a hand with the grill, but without anyone to make sides, those nights were just… meat.

“When’s the last time you guys had something halfway healthy to eat?” Detroit asked. He dug around through the dozen or so clamshell containers in the fridge in search of vegetables to make as a side.

“When’s the last time you cooked for us?” I shot back.

That got a huff of a laugh out of him.

“Well, I guess I’m hitting up the food store after the gym.”

“Ah, morning,” a woman’s voice said, making both of us turn to find her standing just inside the kitchen.

I remembered her from the night before. Pretty, blonde, petite. She’d been hanging on Syn’s every word. Her hair was dry and tangled in the harsh morning, and her red, hungover eyes had raccoon liner smudged beneath. She’d stolen one of Syn’s tees that she had knotted over her party dress. Her heels must have been stashed in her purse because she was wearing one of the sets of slides the club kept stocked for, well, exactly this purpose. Who wanted to do the walk of shame in icepick heels?

“Morning,” I said over the rim of my coffee cup. “Want some coffee?”

“Actually, ah, I’m… missing…”

She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Pink, purple, black, or beige?” Detroit asked, walking over to the freezer.

“Purple,” she admitted, shaking her head at herself. “Thanks,” she said, taking the bra from Detroit, folding it in half, and shoving it into her bag. “Why did we put them in there again?”

Detroit looked at me.

“That part is a little blurry for me too. It was after the strip poker but before the topless karaoke…”

The woman let out a laugh/groan hybrid.

“So… my phone.”

“I lined them up by the door,” I told her.

I’d crashed earlier than the others. I didn’t know if I was getting old or boring (or both) but the liquor had hit me hard, making me too tired to even think about taking a woman up to bed. So I’d gotten extra sleep and woke up to straighten the disaster of the living space before Slash happened by and saw it.

“You need a ride into town? I’m heading to the gym.”

The woman looked relieved.

“That would be great. I came with Madison, but, I, uh, guess she isn’t up yet. I have to get to work.”

“No problem,” Detroit said as I turned to pour some coffee into a to-go cup for her, adding some cream and sugar because who didn’t like coffee with something a little extra in it after a night of drinking, and held it out to her.

“Probably gonna need this,” I said as she reached for it.

“Thank you. This was… a lot different than I expected.”

The town had a little bit of a boom, population-wise. A lot of new women around who hadn’t visited the club before.

This woman worked as a nurse at the prison. Which I knew because when Saint reached for something and his shirt lifted up, she’d squealed and declared that she’d been the one to treat the wound that caused the scar on his back.

“Come back anytime. We’re always up for fun,” I said, toasting her with my coffee cup.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >78

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Road To Hell – A MC Romance Short Story Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.booksnovels.com/road-to-hell-a-mc-romance-short-story-read-online-jessica-gadziala Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:09:56 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/road-to-hell-a-mc-romance-short-story-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC, Novella Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 >8

When his club won't save her boyfriend when he is kidnapped by a rival club, this MC old lady decides to save him herself.

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

“What the fuck do you mean you're not going to save him?"

As a general rule, no one spoke to an outlaw biker president that way. And you damn sure didn't do so when you weren't even a part of the club.

I was just a biker's old lady, after all. In this club, I barely had a right to have an opinion on anything. Let alone question them about their decisions to—or in this case, not to—go to war over one of their men.

The problem was this was my man.

I couldn't just stand around like my entire world wasn’t falling apart, when the man that I had just started to fall in love with was being held against his will with God-knew-what happening to him.

But I was pretty sure we could all agree that whatever was happening to him was endlessly painful.

"Watch your tone, Clyde," said the president, Dick—aptly named, in my humble opinion, and it had nothing to do with the size of his, as he so proudly claimed to any and everyone who would listen. I'd once had the misfortune of walking in on him getting a blow-job, and let's just say it oddly resembled a baby dill in size and shape.

"What tone would you like me to use when my man is likely being strung up and tortured while his so-called brothers sit here and have drinks and wonder which clubwhores are available to fuck tonight? What is the appropriate tone to use in this situation, Dick?" I asked, adding the silent head in my tone.

Dick might not have been bright, but he was a man of a lot of pride and a short temper, so he picked up on the subtleties of disrespect.

"I won't be disrespected in my own fucking clubhouse by a slit in a dress."

That was how Dick genuinely saw women, how most of the men in his club saw women.

A slit.

A hole—or three—to fuck.

That was it.

How Bear had managed to be around guys like this his whole life and turned out unlike any of them was a huge mystery. One I hadn't had enough time with Bear to even begin to explore.

And now, thanks to his so-called brothers, I might never get to figure that out. I might never see my man again.

The pain in my stomach was sharp and intense, damn near doubling me over. The only thing keeping me upright was my desire to advocate for Bear, to do whatever was necessary to try to get him home safe. With me.

Biting back my real thoughts, I took a deep breath, and tried to temper my anger.

"Are you going to go in and save Bear or not?" I asked, tone calm, even if my heartbeat felt like it was hammering in my chest, throat, and wrists. Even if I felt like I was choking on my fear and buzzing with anxiety.

"Bear knew what he was getting into when he patched-in," Dick said, shrugging. "That's the life."

Bear patched-in when he was seventeen years old because his father—a patched member—had leaned on him until he did it. He'd never really had much of a choice. Not unless he wanted to be homeless and family-less.

And once you were in, you were in.

You didn't get a chance to change your mind.

Not even if you found out that your president didn't give a single fuck about brotherhood and protecting his crew.

"Silly me," I said, chin jerking up. "I thought that the life came with the loyalty and protection of your so-called club brothers."

"Yeah, bitch, silly you," Dick said, shrugging, and getting slapped on the shoulder by his vice president.

My gaze slid around to the rest of the club, finding a mix of drunken amusement and carefully guarded concern.

Because if Dick didn't care about Bear, he didn't care about any of them.

But that was their problem.

Bear, it seemed, was going to be mine.

I was happy to shoulder that responsibility.

"Fine," I said, swallowing hard. "Can I just go pack my shit then?" I asked, waving toward the second floor of the clubhouse where Bear was one of the lucky brothers who had his own private room.

"Whatever. Just get the fuck out," Dick said, waving at me with his mostly empty whiskey glass.

I didn't have much in Bear's room. A couple changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and general hygiene stuff. Nothing that I actually wanted to collect.

What I did want, though, was what Bear had in his room. Which was a mini arsenal of weapons he'd purchased illegally from another biker club.

Dismissed, I charged up the stairs, so focused that I barely even registered the clubwhore with her skirt hiked up and her tits hanging down as she got railed from behind by one biker as another was pulling his cock out to wait his turn.

I rushed into Bear’s room, locking the door in case Dick changed his mind and came after me.

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