Romance – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Romance – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:20 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.2 http://www.booksnovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Romance – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com 32 32 Love Trips Read Online K. Webster http://www.booksnovels.com/love-trips-read-online-k-webster Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:20 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/love-trips-read-online-k-webster Genre: M-M Romance Authors: K. Webster Advertisement

Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)

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Trigger warning: Inc*st between triplets, violence.

This is a m/m/m short story.

Life’s been hard for the love triplets.
Abusive home life. Cruel kids at school. Hateful town.
The only love they’ve known is each other.

When they turn eighteen, they leave to make a life of their own, free of pain and sadness.
It’s better than they could have ever imagined.

Until new feelings emerge, threatening to destroy the only thing they care about…each other.
They’re brothers. Best friends. Together from the beginning.
Can they be lovers, too, or will this steal the only bit of happiness they’ve ever known?

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

1

Dexter

The betrayal in his amber eyes lashes at me harder than any whap of Dad’s belt used to. At least, back then, I could just mentally block out the hatred from my father. Hide in a place he couldn’t find me while he beat the shit out of me.

I can’t hide from this.

Never him.

Not Andrew.

“Andy,” I start, but I don’t have any other words.

“He was my only friend, Dex. The only one.”

I swallow hard, lowering my gaze to the ground, unable to look at my brother. I fucked up. I know I did.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur and then wince because it feels cheap. “I am. It meant nothing.”

“Which makes it worse.” He throws his hands in the air, features screwed up in an angry way that transforms his normally smiling face. “You fucked my friend who meant ‘nothing’”—he makes exaggerated air quotes with his fingers—“and now he won’t come over to study anymore. You’re some kind of asshole.”

He stomps out of our tiny kitchen, his feet sending thundering ripples through our ramshackle trailer. All I can do is stare after him.

Andrew Love.

The tallest but also the baby…by two whole minutes.

His dark hair has grown out lately now that we don’t have Dad giving us shit about everything. It hangs to about his cheekbones and frames his eyes so that they’re the focal point on his face. When he’s smiling, I like how his amber eyes seem to smile too.

Tonight, they’re not smiling.

Nathan creeps from the living room into the kitchen, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Guilt roils in my gut. Not only did I hurt Andy, but I upset Nate too by fighting with Andy.

We’re triplets.

When one of us is angry at the other, that puts the third brother in a spot where he has to choose sides. It’s torturous and a position we don’t often find ourselves in. I can tell Nate is torn between comforting me and calming Andy.

Turning away from Nate—the middle brother in our trio—I place both palms on the cracked Formica countertop. I squeeze my eyes shut and wonder what the hell I was thinking.

I wasn’t thinking.

I’d been tired from working my ass off all week, a little buzzed from the beers some guys from work bought me, and just really needed to get laid. Seth came over to hang out with Andy, but when my brothers were passed out, Seth kissed me. We’d ended up in the bathroom, him bent over the sink while I fucked him. It was fast and meaningless. That was three weeks ago. With morning brought regret and the dread that he’d eventually find out. Which he did. Today, apparently.

Lanky arms wrap around me from behind. Nate is always the comfort. When I was little and would be nursing whatever fucked-up ailments I had going on from Dad, he’d always cling to me, somehow making it better with his hug and familiar scent and quiet disposition.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him too because I am. I’m the only one of us who thinks with his dick. A heavy sigh escapes me. “I’m fucking this all up.”

“No,” he murmurs, hot breath tickling my back through my thin T-shirt. “You’re making it so we can have all this.”

Our own place.

My brothers in college.

Safe.

And I stupidly messed up Andy’s first and only friend because I just wanted to feel good for five minutes after a stressful week.

“Want me to cook something?” I ask, my voice gruff with emotion. “I bought stuff to make spaghetti.”

Nate and Andy’s favorite.

Nate releases me to peek into the sack. He reaches inside and pulls out a tub of cookies and cream ice cream. His smile—a rarity but warmer than the sun—is wide enough to chase away my self-loathing.

“I haven’t had this in forever,” Nate says, tawny eyes twinkling as he fawns over the store-brand container in his beloved flavor.

Not since our birthday when we turned thirteen. It’s been five years since we lost Mom and it still hurts.

“Special occasion,” I tell him. “I got Andy’s favorite too.”

He pulls out another container, this time vanilla bean. “Where’s yours?”

“Don’t need it.”

His smile fades and his brows furl. “Dex…”

“It’s just ice cream,” I say with a shrug.

“We’ll share ours.” He hardens his gaze, daring me to argue. I don’t. “What’s the special occasion?”

I was going to tell them the good news, but then Andy tore me a new asshole the moment I stepped in the front door.

“Got a raise.”

“No shit?” He grins again, making me feel less of an asshole than ten minutes ago.

“For real. Bert says I’m kicking everyone’s ass at the shop as far as moving vehicles out. He’s been making more money and said it’s only fair to pass it down my way.”

We’ve been in this dinky-ass town for four months now. But it’s within walking distance to the community college and the auto repair shop that was hiring. This town is more like home than anything we’ve ever had. Finally, it feels like we’re starting to move up a little.

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He Said he said Volume 5 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.booksnovels.com/he-said-he-said-volume-5-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:16 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/he-said-he-said-volume-5-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Hello all, Jory Harcourt here, with another blast from the past, the fifth volume of my column, He Said, he said, covering 2023. As usual, or so it seemed at the time, the world around us was in upheaval. In the midst of that chaos, we have to depend on our community, family, and friends.

Of course, I had my person, my husband, to depend on in all things. I love that after all these years; I still give him heart palpitations every now and then. At our age, that may or may not be a good thing! I’m so happy to have you all along in this journey with me

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

JANUARY 2023

Hello, all! Welcome to He Said, he said for January 2023. It’s probably going to take me well into February to get 2023 drilled in, but at least I won’t mess up any when I write checks, since I barely write those anymore.

My husband came home on Friday to find Hannah loading clothes into the washing machine, pizza on the counter, and a young man he’d never seen in his life carrying boxes up and down the stairs.

“Who are you?”

“Adrian Pomeroy, sir,” he said, stopping to offer Sam his hand. “I lost five consecutive games of rock-paper-scissors to Hannah, so that’s why I’m schlepping stuff from the dorm up and down the stairs. My buddy Mario, we used his truck. He lost too.”

Sam nodded, shook the young man’s hand, and then watched him go up the stairs. The next young man, a bit taller, stockier, offered Sam his hand as he walked by with a laundry basket full of clothes and more clothes on hangers draped over the top.

“Hello, sir, Mario Armello, no relation,” he said seriously.

Sam shook his head and then tipped it to the stairs.

“No relation?” I asked Sam, who flopped down on the couch, not going upstairs to shed his suit or his gun but just taking a seat.

“Sal Armello runs the Girona crime family,” he answered. “In Boston, not here.”

“But he figures you know the name.”

“Which he should. That was smart of him.”

“Okay,” I said, moving over next to the couch and staring down at him. “How do you think Hannah won consecutive games?”

“You always double paper in the middle, you know that,” he muttered. “You’re the one who taught me.”

I had. I was the rock-paper-scissor king. “What’s with you?”

After a moment, he looked up at me. “You know, I don’t give you enough credit.”

This was news. “For what?”

“For never, ever, repeating anything I tell you in confidence. Like I’ve never heard you say, even to Duncan, something that I’ve said to you.”

“Well, no, of course not.”

He groaned.

“Oh,” I said, getting it. “Who told what to who?”

“One of the transfers—Cowen—nice guy, we all liked him––”

“Liked?”

Sam shook his head.

“You fired him for whatever it was he did?”

“He’s transferred, but…when it happens like that and you’re busted down, your career has a new trajectory, right?”

“I understand,” I assured him. “Sorry to interrupt, go on.”

“Well, so he got caught talking to Rosa Oliveros. She’s a reporter on that show––”

“Tale of the Tape,” I volunteered. I, like many, loved crime documentaries, and that one, on Netflix, didn’t annoy me. So many could tell the story in one hour but stretched it to three or, dear God in heaven, six. And they left each episode on cliffhangers. I knew it was a thing, but it was a lame thing. I liked the reporting where they filled up every second and nothing was wasted. Tale of the Tape was pretty good, and there wasn’t fluffy reporting, and they never did shows on crimes that weren’t solved. I liked that too. The important part of watching shows on serial killers was knowing that law enforcement caught the bad guy. Sometimes it took a long time, sometimes law enforcement missed things because back in the seventies not a lot of different police precincts talked to one another, and without DNA…but that was a rant for another day. But I liked things that ended with “and he’s now in jail for the rest of his life.” I was a big fan of justice.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he agreed.

“So Cowen is talking to Rosa and she asks him about what?”

“She gets him talking about Miro and Craig Hartley, and thank God he didn’t know about the key and the watch that Miro got or that would be on the next episode as well.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry,” I soothed him, taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“But now people are hounding Miro all over again.”

“Well, Ian will put a stop to that,” I reminded my husband.

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But on top of that, Aberdeen, who’s brand new, came up from CPD, was at a club in the loop last night, and when it was robbed, he didn’t do anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he huddled on the floor with everybody else.”

“Huddled? Really?”

“Fine. You prefer cowered?”

“I doubt it was either,” I chided him. “He probably just sat there, and you can’t fault him for that, can you?”

He turned to look at me. “What?”

“I mean, he’s there, off duty I assume, and the place gets robbed.”

“What’s your point?”

“Was he alone?”

“Yeah, but––”

“Sam,” I said, squinting at him, “he was by himself, and yes, he’s got his gun, but what is he supposed to do all by himself?”

“Jory––”

“How many guys were robbing the club?”

“Two.”

“And it was fast, right, in and out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so the club was robbed, hopefully they’re insured, and they’ll up their security measures. I’m guessing no one was hurt, right?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

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He Said he said Volume 6 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.booksnovels.com/he-said-he-said-volume-6-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:14 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/he-said-he-said-volume-6-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Hello all, Jory Harcourt here, and Volume 6 of my He Said, he said columns were from 2024 and there were world changes, that you all know about, and family changes that were new. We were all introduced to the man who would become very important to my son, his best and only, my daughter and Jake doubled down, Kola met his biological parents, and Michael’s bachelor party, which was not great, and his wedding, that was much better. It was a year of ups and downs, but through it all, our community grew stronger as did my fondness for a glass of red wine under the stars on my back deck

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

JANUARY 2024

Hello, all, and welcome to the first He Said, he said of the new year! I hope you all had wonderful holidays. Mine started out a bit shaky but got good.

I have to rewind you all to the winter solstice in December. It’s the longest night of the year and the beginning of the Yule season that goes until January first. But I digress. As you know from past newsletters, Hannah lights the Yule log as soon as the sun goes down, and it burns all night long until dawn. That means someone has to stay up and keep an eye on our wood-burning fireplace, and never, not once, has it been my dear sweet daughter. Normally it’s me. Now I will say we usually snuggle together, her and me, on the couch, and sometimes Sam will remain downstairs with us as well if he doesn’t have to get up early the next day. This year, his Friday, December twenty-second was going to be a long one. Because his team was moving Dr. Adam DeBoer, a disgraced investment adviser—think Bernie Madoff but smaller—from his cell at the Metropolitan Correctional Center, or MCC, to federal court. It promised to be a zoo, so Sam needed all his faculties for the following day. So even though he didn’t like it, he went up to bed alone, leaving me and Hannah up.

We watched one of her favorite movies, then mine, back and forth. What was nice was that they overlapped, like Pride & Prejudice, the Keira Knightley one, The Fugitive, Jaws, of course Jaws, and finally when we were both getting sleepy—I was no longer in my clubbing days where I used to get ready to go out at ten—we watched K-dramas. If you had to focus on the subtitles, you weren’t falling asleep. At about four in the morning, Hannah was out like a light, but by then I had changed the channel to Law & Order because I could listen but not watch and started making breakfast for Sam.

He was down at four thirty.

“What are you doing cooking?” he asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

“Before I passed out next to Hannah, I thought I should make some food for my man.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, kissing my neck.

“I thought, this way he can hit the ground running when he gets to work, having already had coffee at home and more in the car—note the Yeti there ready for pouring—and if he doesn’t get lunch, that will be okay.”

“Very kind of you,” he commented, still holding me. “I don’t like when you’re not in the bed with me. I can’t ever really settle.”

I knew that, but last night it couldn’t be helped. The boys were still across town, having not begun the camping at our house for Christmas yet.

“I appreciate this, you know, but I could have grabbed a bagel and made coffee if you were passed out on the couch.”

“I know, but an omelet filled with lots of cheese, spinach, green peppers, mushrooms, and diced ham is better. And wheat toast is healthier than your bagel.”

“I don’t know about that,” he rumbled in my ear before I got a final squeeze.

I sat with him as he ate, and told my husband in no uncertain terms that he was not to get between any crazy people and DeBoer. After he ate, there were kisses and hugs, and I reiterated my need for him to be careful. He’d had water and coffee with breakfast and was carrying his large travel mug as he walked to the garage. I waved from the back deck and stayed outside while Dobby did his business, because yes it was early, but he was up and so was I, so why not? Plus, I had been hearing some coyotes lately, and even though we had a six-foot wood fence in the back and a five-foot chain-link one running the length of the driveway to the backyard, the front was a darling white picket painted in rustic white that any coyote could easily leap. Best for me to stay on patrol.

Wisely, Dylan, Fallon, and I had closed our office from the twenty-second all the way through Christmas and New Year’s to the third of January. We could. We were a medium-size business that had weathered many storms from the pandemic to the economy, and historically, our business slowed from a crawl to nothing at the end of December. I counted myself blessed to be able to take the time off, as did all our six other employees.

Hannah and I got up, her from passing out in the wee small hours of the morning, me from a three-hour nap, when Kola and Jake came banging in the back door around eleven, and I was far more bleary than she was.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

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This Guy (Wood Hollow Stories #1) Read Online Lane Hayes http://www.booksnovels.com/this-guy-wood-hollow-stories-1-read-online-lane-hayes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:13 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/this-guy-wood-hollow-stories-1-read-online-lane-hayes Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Lane Hayes Series: Wood Hollow Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

The football star, the lumberjack, and a small-town love story…

Silas

Not to sound dramatic, but I can’t decide if I’m a hot mess, a has-been…or both.

My ex’s new relationship with an A-list celebrity is putting me in the spotlight at my lowest point, and I could use a break from LA—just for a little while.

But Vermont in the middle of a blizzard? Probably not a great idea. However, the sexy lumberjack who lives next door is a sweet surprise. And so are his kids and the town.

I like this place. I could be happy here…at least till my new season begins.

Cooper

The football star is an unexpected complication—and a breath of fresh air. Silas is funny, charismatic, and cool. My kids love having a celebrity living next door. And me? I can’t remember the last time I felt quite so alive.

My steady diet of work and carpooling is fine, and sure, I’m happy enough, but with Silas around, everything feels lighter and breezier.

Yes, I’m well aware this isn’t going anywhere. Our lives are just too different.

Too bad ’cause this guy feels like the real thing.

This Guy is an MM bisexual, single dad, small-town romance featuring a football hero, a sexy lumberjack, and some neighbor-friendly shenanigans

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

CHAPTER 1

SILAS

“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.” — Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Twenty-five seconds on the clock, fourth quarter. Score 10 to 16.

The play was at the forty-yard line. A mad sprint to the goal with a hitch route at the center of the field might have seemed like a long shot, but it was doable. Speed was the key. And precision.

All the rookie QB had to do was pass me the ball. I settled into place next to our offensive tackle, Bukowski, a three-hundred-and-ten pound beast of a dude. I chewed the shit out of my mouthpiece, my knee bouncing, my cleats digging into the AstroTurf, ready to bolt into action.

I might have been older than the average tight end, but I was still fast. And if Kronig’s pass was accurate, we could come from behind and steal this one from Tennessee.

Not that it mattered. Both teams had losing records, so neither of us was playoff bound. However, this was my last fucking game in the pros. It was bad enough to fizzle into obscurity on a roster of aging fossils, but after the year I’d had, I really didn’t think it was unreasonable to hope for one fucking win.

Kronig’s play-call technique sucked, if you asked me. It was easy to tell the kid had watched too many old tapes of Manning in his prime and couldn’t wait to say, “Omaha, Omaha” like his idol. I wished I could make eye contact with Vally and share an eye roll, but it was showtime, baby.

I ran my route, shoving a Tennessee blocker out of my way before racing for the goal line. There wasn’t a blue jersey in sight. I was open.

Open.

I held my arm out like a firefighter ready to catch a falling baby from a five-story building at the five-yard line. I was there. Step, step, score.

Seconds were ticking by… One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.

Where was the fucking ball?

Where was the⁠—

Boom!

I slammed into the ground hard, crushed like a soda can under the wheel of a Mack truck by a Tennessee linebacker. He’d appeared out of nowhere, knocked the wind out of me, and…damn it, I was bleeding.

I sat on my haunches for a beat, wincing at the blood dripping from my nose as pain ricocheted through my body and echoed in my ears.

Along with the sound of raucous cheering.

A hand shot in front of me. “Yo, you all right, old man?”

“Fuck off,” I growled, taking the assistance and squinting at the celebration in the goal. “We scored?”

Vally nodded. “Marius got the TD.”

“I was fucking open.”

Vally smacked my ass. “I know. We don’t do anything the easy way. But on the bright side, we’re about to win this motherfucker.”

I sat on the bench, gulping water with gauze stuffed in my nose as our kicker drove the extra point through the post.

Score: 17-16. We won.

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of my fifteen-year career in the pros. Yep, this was what fizzling into obscurity felt like in real time.

I was numb.

Just…numb.

I scanned the field, bracing against a wave of nostalgia that never came. It would probably hit me in the locker room or the shower or at the obligatory press conference. Or maybe on the drive home.

It didn’t. Still numb.

And the night wasn’t over.

I had to get through a private party later that evening too.

The Sky Lounge was one of those swanky rooftop bars in a high-end hotel with views of the glittering lights of Los Angeles and the dark expanse of the Pacific Ocean beyond. One could count on loud music, eye candy, nose candy, secret corners, and discreet waiters. I’d been here dozens of times and while I wouldn’t say it was my favorite bar, being with my teammates after our last game was the right move. I’d buy a round of shots, replay highlights with my buddies, and flirt with whoever happened to be nearby. And then go home.

I wasn’t in the mood tonight, though. In fact, hanging out with a bunch of testosterone-laden, pumped-up jocks with a season-ending hall pass to make all kinds of bad choices felt like work.

“I don’t want to be here.”

Vally waved at the crowd congregated at the bar. “Tough shit. We can make old-guy excuses or just fade in an hour. Naomi is home with the baby, and I don’t want to be out late, anyway.”

Lawrence Valenz, a.k.a. Vally, was an inch shorter than my six four but outweighed me by at least forty pounds. He had curly black hair, olive skin, green eyes, and killer dimples. Vally had been casually demolishing our opponents’ defense with wicked moves that left sportscasters speechless for years, but off the field, he was the nicest guy I’d ever met.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

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His Forbidden Alliance – Forbidden Mafia Read Online Silvia Violet http://www.booksnovels.com/his-forbidden-alliance-forbidden-mafia-read-online-silvia-violet Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:12 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/his-forbidden-alliance-forbidden-mafia-read-online-silvia-violet Genre: M-M Romance, Mafia, Taboo Authors: Silvia Violet Advertisement

Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >75

When I catch Zach cheating at my family’s casino, I should have him thrown out. Instead, I’m drawn to his sexy smile, his reckless confidence, and the way he looks at me like I’m more than another mafia heir playing at power. When he offers to turn his skills to my advantage, I break all the rules and let him stay.
I’ve spent years trying to prove I’m more than the spoiled playboy my family expects. With a Russian trafficker seeking revenge on us, I need control—not temptation. But Zach awakens desires I’ve buried for too long. Risk. Danger. Submission.
The closer we get, the harder it is to ignore the truth: Zach isn’t just a grifter. When he saves my life and exposes himself as a government agent, our alliance becomes a deadly secret. He needs me to complete his mission. I need him to survive my world—and to finally claim my place in it.
For Zach, I may be just another mark—a role he’s played a dozen times before. He’s a master at faking attraction for the sake of the mission, but even when I learn he’s questioning everything he thought he knew about himself, I can’t walk away.
Protecting him could destroy me. Falling for him already has.
In a world of blood, power, and betrayal, loving the wrong man might be the most dangerous gamble of all

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

1

ZACH

“The Theriots have to be involved. Look at the patterns we’re seeing.”

Maria, my special agent in charge, shook her head. “You’re going in the wrong direction. Yes, this is Bratva business, and we know the Theriots alternate between alliances and all-out war with them, but the Koslovs have put out a hit on Ivanov. He has few allies left in the crime world. If we try to bring in some of the Theriots or the Koslovs, we’ll never get charges to stick, and we’ll get no support from DC. Ivanov is the focus. We can bring him in and leave the Theriots out of this.”

“Did they pay you to say that?”

Maria glared at me, eyes hard and cold. “Because I respect you as an agent, I’m going to let that comment slide this one time. Never accuse me again unless you’re serious about it.”

I blew out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. “Sorry.” Maria was an amazing agent. She’d had my back through a hell of a lot. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d refused to confine myself to an assignment. I tended to go off the rails during most investigations, but my hunches were usually right, and I had a gut feeling the Theriots were involved. “They know something. I’m sure of it. They could lead us right to Ivanov.”

“Hell, yes, they know something. They know something about everything that goes on in New Orleans a hell of a lot more than we do, unfortunately.”

“Exactly. They’re the key to this.”

Maria closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. “What are you suggesting? Do you want to march up, ring the bell at Remington Theriot’s house, and ask him how he’s involved with a man who’s been trafficking teenage boys?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’d kill you instantly, and we’d never find a single piece of your body.”

Maria was right, but— “There’s a younger cousin, Rafael. He runs their casino. He’s barely managed to keep himself out of police custody. If it wasn’t for his family, he’d be in prison.”

“As much as I’d like to worry about everything that goes on in this city, money laundering at a casino is far down the list of importance.”

“That’s not what I’m interested in. Though it’s always good for leverage.”

“With the Theriots’ power here, I don’t think you can count that as leverage.”

I huffed. “Maybe not, but I want to get in with him. I want to join one of his backroom, high-roller games. There are rumors of a connection to the casino. Ivanov’s been sniffing around there.”

Maria frowned. “What have you found?”

I handed her a thumb drive. “Check this out.”

She took it from me and accessed the pertinent files.

“Read what I’ve highlighted, and you’ll see.”

Maria hummed as she read. “I see the potential connection, but there’s no indication here that Rafael’s involved directly. Do you think he’s part of Ivanov’s organization?”

“Possibly. Either he’s in on it, or Ivanov is taking advantage of him. Either way, I need to look into him. Rafael is very selective about who’s allowed to participate in these games. They put offers on the table that aren’t just money. It’s definitely a place Ivanov could be moving some inventory.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do you propose to get involved?”

“I want to go in as a player. I need to be on the inside to learn more.”

She sighed. “I guess you’re going to need identification and a whole undercover setup.”

“Yes, and you can get me that.”

“I could, but⁠—”

“Let me do this. Even if it’s a dead end, the undercover persona will be useful as I look for other connections.”

“All right. You’ll have the documentation you need in forty-eight hours. Be careful. You know the Theriots aren’t people to play with.”

I didn’t need Maria thinking too much about that. “This guy is just a kid. He’s a loose cannon.”

“And if he’s involved with Ivanov, I want us to bring him down, but Ivanov is our ultimate target. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, but we’ve got to strike where we can. That’s the name of the game, especially in New Orleans.”

I left Maria’s office before she could change her mind and headed back to my desk to lay out what I knew about the case.

Andrei Ivanov had been trafficking in boys as young as thirteen as well as college students. There was evidence going back years. Maria refused to tell me how we’d gotten hold of all that evidence, but it was clear Ivanov was not only the leader of the organization, but he’d also kept some of the boys for himself, hiring them as household staff, luring some in with promises of money, and kidnapping others. The boys and young men he forced to stay with him usually died in unexplained accidents or simply disappeared.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >75

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Dirty Little Secret Read Online Riley Hart http://www.booksnovels.com/dirty-little-secret-read-online-riley-hart Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:08 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dirty-little-secret-read-online-riley-hart Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, M-M Romance, Taboo Authors: Riley Hart Advertisement

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

James
I’m forty years old, a tenured professor with investments, property, and a 401k.

But what I crave is to submit. To hand over control to Colton. We met on an app. His needs matched mine. It was only supposed to be once, then twice. No commitment, so I don’t feel bad cutting contact.

Then my world implodes when I get custody of siblings I didn’t know I have.

Everything would have been fine, I would have survived on my own, if not for Sir, my hookup, walking through the doors of my classroom.

He’s over a decade younger than me, and now I’m his professor, yet Sir is giving me schedules I need and caretaking from a distance. I know I should stay away, but I can’t. No matter what he gives me, I want more.

Colton
I’m twenty-eight years old, starting my first semester as a transfer student at a local university, finally following my dreams.

And then I see him, the sub I haven’t stopped thinking about, the one who comes undone for me in ways I’ve never experienced before. He makes all my Dominant instincts flare to life. I’ve always loved caretaking, but James makes me need it on a bone-deep level.

It’s not long before he’s on his knees for me again, surrendering in ways we both crave. He’s forbidden, my professor, my good boy, and I’m his Sir…his dirty little secret. But it’s not enough. I want it all from him, if only he’ll let me have it.

Dirty Little Secret is a student/professor romance, with an older sub and a younger Dom. Please use the look inside feature for a more in-depth content description and warning

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

CHAPTER ONE

James

May

I can’t stop my fingers from drumming against the steering wheel.

Traffic is ridiculous, which means I’m running the risk of being late. Well, not late, really, because I’m never late for anything, but running the risk of not arriving at least fifteen minutes early, like I do with everything.

What will Sir think if I’m not timely?

Tap, tap, tap, tap. My fingers continue to move as I sit at the red light, playing a rapid beat that matches my pulse.

This is my second time meeting with Colton, and I don’t want to disappoint him already. Even more importantly, being late would mess with my head, and it’s already hectic in there, no matter how much I try to pretend it’s not. That’s one of the reasons I need this—the discipline, the organization, not having to decide what to do. In every other aspect of my life, I need control, but this, in these moments and if I find the right Dom, I’m able to get out of my head and just be.

I startle when the car behind me honks, letting me know the light is green.

“Get it together, James,” I say softly to myself, frustrated I was spacing out like that. I’m usually very good at holding it together—I depend on being able to hold it together.

Focus. Most of life’s problems can be dealt with by hard work, focus, and determination, so that’s what I force myself to do the rest of the drive to the house I own in a suburban neighborhood. It’s farther from the college where I teach political science. I don’t live here. I don’t even know why I bought it, but once I started meeting up with Doms, it became a place to do that.

I pull into the driveway at three. I park beside Sir’s older SUV. I don’t know what he does for a living, but from the things he’s said and his callouses when he touches me, I assume it’s something with his hands.

It fits him. I can’t imagine him doing anything else, which is…typically not my thing, but nothing about Sir is similar to any of the Doms I’ve played with in the past—the biggest being that he’s younger than me. Twenty-eight to my forty. He mentioned his age in his bio on the BDSM site where we met. I wasn’t sure it would work, how I would feel about submitting to someone younger, but when he messaged, it had been a long time since I’d given in to this need, and everything he’d said or done had been exactly what I’d needed.

I thought it’d be a one-time thing—it usually is for me—but here we are, meeting a second time for him to control and fuck me.

My fingers tremble, frustration making the back of my neck prickle. I should have been here before him. I hate that he arrived first.

Sir is already out of his SUV by the time I get out, walking around my vehicle toward me.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I tell him, and he frowns.

“You’re not late. It’s two fifty-five. We said three. You’re all good.”

I don’t know him well—or at all, really—but from what I’ve seen, nothing seems to rattle him. It’s like everything just rolls off his shoulders, this lightness to him I’ve never had myself, and frankly, wouldn’t know what to do with.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

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Hunt the Villain (Villain #2) Read Online Rina Kent http://www.booksnovels.com/hunt-the-villain-villain-2-read-online-rina-kent Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:07 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hunt-the-villain-villain-2-read-online-rina-kent Genre: College, Dark, M-M Romance, Mafia Authors: Rina Kent Series: Villain Series by Rina Kent
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Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >148

From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Rina Kent comes a standalone dark MM mafia rivals romance set in the world of Legacy of Gods.

I’m hunting a monster

The first time I met Yulian Dimitriev, it was hate at first sight.
He’s brash, chaotic, and a violence-junkie.
In short, everything I disregard.
As heirs to two notorious mafia organizations, we were shoved together in an unorthodox setting.
The more I learn about Yulian, the deeper my loathing seeps.
Until I truly see the person within, and something forbidden sparks between us.
But our coexistence is cut short when tragedy strikes.
Yulian and I go back to our respective, parallel worlds that shouldn’t cross.
But they do.
And once again, I’m dragged into the orbit of a man I shouldn’t want.
Two men can’t be together in our world.
But Yulian blurs every limit I thought existed until everything is in jeopardy.
Our hearts included.

Hunt the Villain is a male x male dark college romance. This book can be read as a standalone, but for a better understanding of the world, it's recommended to read Kiss the Villain first

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

PLAYLIST

Chokehold – Sleep Token

Saints – Echoes

We never dated – sombr

12 to 12 – sombr

Sucker – Arcane, Marcus King

The Emptiness Machine – Linkin Park

Pacify Her – Melanie Martinez

I Wish I Knew How to Quit You – sombr

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? – Arctic Monkeys

Good Luck, Babe – Chappell Roan

Sugar – Sleep Token

Aqua Regia – Sleep Token

Substitution – Purple Disco Machine, Kungs, Julian Perretta

Feel Me Now – If Not For Me

The First Time – Damiano David

Kiss Me – Rob Vischer

Fallin’ – Why Don’t We

Ocean Drive – Duke Dumont

Wait So Long – Swedish House Mafia

Gethsemane – Sleep Token

You can find the complete playlist on Spotify.

1

VAUGHN

AGE FIFTEEN

It’s hate at first sight.

For this setting.

For these people.

For the entire charade, really.

I truly believe this is a waste of time, and I would like to leave immediately if possible. Please and thank you.

Unfortunately, that’s not something Dad would appreciate, especially considering his parting words this morning.

You’re my pride, Vaughn. You go out there and show them what the New York Bratva are made of.

So here I am. In this absolute clusterfuck of a place, exchanging pleasantries and empty words with one of the mentors overlooking this mess.

Sorry, it’s called a summer camp.

The Adirondack Mountains aren’t exactly my ideal location to spend the summer. Usually, I’d be off to Russia to stay with my maternal uncles and cousins for some intense training or somewhere in the Mediterranean soaking up some sun. Not this year, obviously, as I have to spend time in the mountains in what’s being described as a “historical” moment for the New York and Chicago Bratvas.

Also known as the strongest branches of the Russian mafia in the States.

As the Pakhan’s son, it’s my duty to represent my family at this camp. The mountain is supposed to be a middle-ground location, picked by both sides.

Apparently, our “mentors” for these hellish summer months are older people who are trusted by my dad and the Chicago Bratva leader since they served both sides. They’re “pure” Russian, as the house manager who’s now leading me to my room insisted.

Aside from the security surrounding the cottage-turned-dorm with its wooden walls and outdated common area, we’re not allowed personal guards or phones, and there’s no electricity after dark.

It’s a form of training—both physical and mental. A way to force us into relying on one another, to scrape at decades of rivalry that probably took root back in Mother Russia before my father even existed.

An old Russian ballad drifts through the halls from an ancient radio system, the melody warped by age. The house manager’s voice threads over it, polished and deliberate, speaking about the facilities and the “opportunities” this place offers.

While his refined Russian seeps into the air, my attention catches on the corners, the hairline cracks in the untreated wood…and then I see them. Small blinking cameras, half hidden.

Of course.

Doesn’t matter that Dad sent me here—neither he nor the leader of the Chicago Bratva trusts the other side. And with their heirs shoved into cohabitation, they’d both want full access to whatever happens here.

I let my gaze slide over the thick slabs of timber making up the walls, the clean but worn carpets dulled by years of footsteps, the rural paintings in faded gold frames, showing a romanticized version of eighteenth-century Russian countryside.

The windows capture my interest next. Unlike the scaled-down comforts of the cottage, they’re fitted with bulletproof glass. Too narrow for anyone to climb through—not that anyone could reach this place without an army.

The camp squats on an off-limits peak, far from any trace of human life, surrounded only by towering pines and an unbroken sky.

I can already tell this summer will be long.

And painfully boring.

Outside the large balcony doors, the grounds sprawl down below, with soldiers patrolling from both sides. I can tell they’re as wary as the rest of us, considering how each group keeps to half of the terrain.

There will be a lot of testosterone wars this not-so-beautiful summer.

I can’t wait for the hassle to be over.

In the meantime, I need to study the other side. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my parents, it’s to always be prepared.

Whether this truce proves to be lucrative or not doesn’t matter. The Chicago Bratva will always be a thorn in our side for as long as I live, just like they’ve been in Dad’s and the Pakhans’ who ruled before him.

As much as I loathe this whole charade, I can’t deny that it’s realistically my only chance to get close to them and study their tactics.

While the house manager explains the facilities, I keep my attention on their men through the doors. All dressed in full-black combat gear, not suits like our side. While everyone is carrying precision rifles, theirs seem more sophisticated.

I need to figure out their weapon supplier.

The bald-headed one with a scorpion tattooed on the side of his head seems to be the leader, considering how the others stand behind him.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >148

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Full Moon Faceoff (Wolves of Burlington #1) Read Online Max Walker http://www.booksnovels.com/full-moon-faceoff-wolves-of-burlington-1-read-online-max-walker Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:40:04 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/full-moon-faceoff-wolves-of-burlington-1-read-online-max-walker Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Paranormal, Sports Authors: Max Walker Series: Wolves of Burlington Series by Max Walker
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

Elijah Sager joins the Burlington Bobcats to escape a brutal breakup and prove he's more than the mistakes his ex made him believe he was. The last thing he needs is the team's star player—publicly straight, impossibly hot Gabriel Sanderson—watching him like he wants to devour him whole.

Gabe has spent years keeping his secrets locked down he's gay, he's a wolf shifter, and his pack's territory is under threat. But when Eli steps onto the ice, Gabe's wolf recognizes something a fated mate. The pull is magnetic and impossible to ignore.

As a rival pack closes in with threats that escalate from intimidation to kidnapping, and a deadly enemy emerges from the shadows, Gabe and Eli are forced together by something neither can control. Between championship games and full moon transformations, they'll have to fight for their lives, their pack, and a love that could destroy them both... or make them unstoppable

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

Chapter One

Fresh Meat

ELI

The energy in the locker room always shifted from team to team. Some were filled with more of the goofball types, snapping wet towels at each other’s bare asses and laughing like it was the funniest damn thing in the world. Others were more game-focused, constantly discussing different strategies and plotting ways they could get their hands on the Calder Cup.

It was my first day in the Bobcats’ locker room, but I could already tell these guys leaned more toward the former than the latter.

Emerson “Emmy” Meyers, one of the team’s D-men and a verifiable unit of a man, stood with a towel wrapped around his waist and a skimpy pair of hot pink underwear hanging off a finger.

“Dyl, if you swap my underwear for another pink thong again, then I’m just going to wear it, take a picture of it, and set it as your phone’s wallpaper.” He tossed the underwear at Dylan Raye, whose grin slanted as he chuckled. He wore a Bobcats sweatband around his forehead—black with white and baby blue stripes—which held back a sweaty head of dark brown hair. A white streak of hair cut across the side of his temple, matching a similar white streak that went across the top of his left eyebrow. He stuffed the thong into his already overflowing duffel bag. “Dumbass.”

“Whose are those anyway?” Soren Volkov asked in a thick Eastern European accent. He was the goalie on the team, and a damn talented one at that. He was one of the reasons I was okay with this trade—there were a couple of other reasons, but playing on the same team as Soren made me excited. It surprised me that he hadn’t made the jump from the AHL to the NHL yet. And he wasn’t the only one on the team who had next-level kind of stats.

“Got them on Amazon for a Halloween costume,” Dylan replied nonchalantly.

“Mhmm,” Emmy said. “Maybe Eli wants to try them on? A little initiation ritual.” Emmy cocked his head and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He winked at me.

“Don’t think they’re my size,” I said, getting a laugh from the guys.

Soren, already fully dressed and halfway out the door, stopped and pointed sternly in my direction. “Don’t let these puck-brained fucks bully you. Give ’em a smack behind their head. Coach allows it.”

“Pfft, you saw him on the ice,” Dyl said. “A smack from him’s going to give me a fucking concussion.”

“Or it could restart whatever engine is malfunctioning in there,” Emmy quipped.

“Fuck you,” Dyl said, his words having zero bite behind them.

The banter continued until it was only me and Chris Rodriguez left in the locker room. He was one of the centers on the team and one of the first guys to reach out to me when the trade was announced. He had short, cropped blond hair and a nose that sat slightly off-center underneath a pair of hazel green eyes that reminded me of my mom’s.

Meant I instantly trusted him.

“Nice job on the ice today,” Chris said as he stood up from the bench, his duffel bag strapped over his shoulder. “I can already tell we’ve got a good season ahead of us.”

I grinned up at him, happy to receive the compliment. I’d researched the entire team before moving to Burlington. Chris had seniority on the team, even though Emmy was captain. He also had some serious stats under his belt. Last season, his average goal per sixty minutes was three, which was a feat that even some NHL players had trouble achieving. Made me wonder again why this team was so damn stacked and why no one seemed to be moving up?

“It’s a solid group of guys here. The talent is through the fucking roof,” I said.

“We’ve got talent and brotherhood here. It’s a lethal mix for any of our rivals.”

“I noticed the brotherhood vibes. The last team I was on felt close, but the Bobcats look like they’re on another level.”

It wasn’t just based on my observations from today. Chatter online said that the Burlington Bobcats were known to be a tight-knit—and slightly mysterious—group. They avoided a lot of the spotlight by often forgoing after-game press interviews, keeping a pretty quiet social media presence, and staying out of gossip or trending topics. In fact, the only thing I could find online that was anything beyond the couple of videos posted on their social media was an interview the head coach, Julian Romanoff, had given where he stressed the importance of a family-type bond between his players.

Chris chuckled, showing an endearing gap in his front top teeth. “Yeah, it’s something that we’re all proud of. We get along like family, bicker like it too. Shoulda seen Gio and Emmy going at it last week after Gio accidentally ate some cake Emmy was saving. You’d think Gio slept with Emmy’s girl. Then, five minutes later, the two were making plans to go out that same night.” Chris glanced at his watch. “Shit, speaking of plans. Gotta run and meet my girlfriend, but keep your schedule clear for tomorrow evening. The team usually goes out to eat together every Tuesday after practice.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

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Arranged Scars Read Online B.B. Hamel http://www.booksnovels.com/arranged-scars-read-online-b-b-hamel Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:39:25 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/arranged-scars-read-online-b-b-hamel Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: B.B. Hamel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

My boss caught me skinny dipping in his pool.
Now he says we’re getting married…

My employer Finn Whelan is dangerous. He’s all charming smiles and expensive suits, and there’s something vicious lurking under that beautiful exterior.
Most nights I’m left alone to clean his gorgeous apartment… at least until he catches me dripping wet and naked…
After one stupid, steamy mistake, I find out the real horror: he’s the youngest son of New York’s most ruthless criminal organization and our families arranged for us to get married.
And Finn knew from the start. That’s why he hired me… and why he’s been watching.
Now I’m walking down the aisle with a stalker psychopath, but it somehow gets worse.
On our wedding night, he offers the one sin I’ve wanted my whole life: Help me kill your father. Help me destroy your brothers. And when it’s over, I’ll set you free.
The sick part is, I might say yes… because he’s the only man alive who understands what I’ve been through.
But as I sleep in the monster’s bed… I might be falling for my own ruin.

Arranged Scars is a full-length dark mafia romance featuring an arranged marriage, shared trauma, morally gray characters, and revenge so sweet it burns

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

1

CAROLINE

I’m going skinny dipping in my boss’s pool.

The night sky is dotted with stars. I stare at them through the glass of his heated luxury enclosure at the top of an enormous tower in the middle of Tribeca. Lights bend and flicker in the gorgeous pool, and I’m practically squirming with excitement as I make sure his private sauna is hot and ready.

I probably shouldn’t do this.

But I’ve gotten away with it every night for the past week and at this point I’m basically addicted.

What’s better than a sauna and a swim at the top of a beautiful high-rise tower? Especially in the middle of the night when there’s nobody else around.

Besides, I earned this. I just spent the last two hours scrubbing his entire lavish apartment all by myself. Even though it looks like nobody lives in this place, I still make sure it’s completely spotless. I polish doorknobs and take a toothbrush to his shower grout, for frick’s sake. I’m practically owed some relaxation.

I mean, I’m not really. My boss pays extremely well. Like an obscene amount of money. All I need to do is never speak of this arrangement at all.

I was skeptical at first. I’ve been cobbling together a living for the past couple years, and when a hiring company came to me with this offer out of the blue, I thought they were scamming. Why would some rich guy want me to clean his apartment in the middle of the night? I’ve done some cleaning gigs, but I’m not exactly good at it.

But then the recruiter started talking numbers… and I was more than a little interested.

Which is how I find myself stripping down in a stranger’s pool area. I squint through the glass and I’m pretty sure that if there’s someone living at the top of the next tower over, and if they owned a sufficiently powerful telescope or a really good pair of binoculars, they’d be able to see the fine downy blonde hair on my tan arms and my auburn-colored pubes. But hey, go for it, take a look. Nobody else is. Enjoy the view. Someone might as well.

I sigh and sink down into the hot sauna. This place feels so good. I really resisted using these facilities at first, but when I realized my boss is absolutely never home when I come to clean, my resolve slipped. I mean, he won’t notice, right? Not if I bring my own towel and clean up after myself. Which is easy, since that’s my job.

Sweat beads on my brow. I tie my hair back and close my eyes, stretching my legs. This is my heaven, right here. When I die, I hope they have saunas in the afterlife. I’ll be kind of pissed if they don’t. Who knew the Scandinavians were right all along?

It’s hard not to let my mind wander. I have the tendency to focus on the creepy side of life. Like for example: Did you know that every year approximately 600,000 people are reported missing? Most of those cases are resolved, but what about the cases that aren’t? I’m fascinated by that gap. Or how in New York, if you’re murdered, there’s a 50:50 chance your killer will get caught at best? And even less likely if you’re black or brown? Pretty good odds for all the serial killers out there. Even creepier: every year, over 4,000 bodies are recovered but never identified. Who are those people?

It can be a little unsettling, living inside my head.

Which is why I should probably be more careful about stripping naked in a total stranger’s apartment.

I don’t even know the guy. I met him exactly once. I call him Finn, no surname. Every night there’s an envelope containing cash on the nightstand beside his bed. There’s nothing personal in his place, or at least nothing that I’ve seen. I don’t snoop. I have some ethics, after all.

But I didn’t get a warm-and-fuzzy feeling from the guy. Not even a little bit. He smiled, even seemed charming, but there was nothing kind behind his smile. He’s handsome, incredibly good-looking to be honest, almost to the point that I couldn’t look him in the eye without my heart racing.

I still wouldn’t want to be alone in a room with him. Not for very long, anyway.

I grew up with men like him. Men who look normal on the outside, maybe even beautiful, but are rotten deep down. I’ve learned to recognize them. It’s in the way they treat the world around them. Like they’re surrounded by toys and they don’t care what they break.

Finn seriously scares me. But because I’m deeply flawed and broken, I can’t stop thinking about him.

Why would a guy like that pay me so much money to clean his boring apartment? The place is gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but there’s zero character. What’s the point of all this?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

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The Next-Door Kiss (Love Place #3) Read Online Loni Ree http://www.booksnovels.com/the-next-door-kiss-love-place-3-read-online-loni-ree Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:39:05 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-next-door-kiss-love-place-3-read-online-loni-ree Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Loni Ree Series: Love Place Series by Loni Ree
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >33

Nestled in the heart of charming Worthington Hills, this quaint apartment building is more than just brick and mortar—it's a hotbed of budding romances and steamy encounters.

Each book in this sizzling rom-com series spotlights a different resident of #1 Love Place as they stumble into love's path. All these stories blend laugh-out-loud moments with curl-your-toes chemistry.

What's cooking at #1 Love

• Small-town charm with big-city heat

• Flirty elevator rides and awkward laundry room run-ins

• Nosy but lovable neighbors playing matchmaker

• Hilarious misadventures in love at first sight

• Guaranteed happily ever afters

So pull up a chair, order your favorite latte, and get ready to fall head over heels for the lovable residents of #1 Love Place. In this building, love isn't just knocking on doors—it's kicking them down!

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

CHAPTER ONE

IRIS

Before the blinding sunlight coming through my dollar store drapes penetrates my mind, I hear an unusual sound. It’s not the gentle, neighborly shuffle of morning feet on carpet, or even the muted drone of vacuuming through a wall. No, this is seismic, industrial, the kind of noise you expect from a herd of water buffalo stampeding through an Ikea showroom.

I jackknife awake, heart pounding, nearly catapulting myself straight off the mattress. Across the room, the digital clock flashes seven-eighteen in glaring, blood-red numbers, as if taunting me for waking up so early. Seriously? It’s Saturday. Way too early to deal with this kind of nonsense.

A relentless barrage of thumps, dragging, then something that sounds suspiciously like someone bowling with furniture and letting the ball thunder down a staircase comes from next door. So. I guess 2H finally got rented out. Figures. I was just starting to enjoy the weird peace that comes with not having a neighbor, the quiet ringing through the walls. Now it’s shattered.

The pounding and scraping double down, rattling the thin wall between us. I can practically picture boxes slamming to the floor, bags tumbling and rolling, maybe a lamp careening end over end. The sound vibrates through my bed, right into my bones.

I flop back, let my head drop onto the pillow, but every heavy crash from next door jolts me like a live wire. The new neighbor is moving in with the grace of a demolition crew. What a way to wake up. My teeth clench with every impact, each scrape and bang a fresh jolt to my bleary brain as my quiet Saturday morning dies a quick death.

Through the wall, I hear heavy, masculine cursing, followed by a metallic clang so violent the floorboards vibrate.

Irritation wins out over the part of me that wants to bury my head in a pillow and ignore the noise. I swing my legs off the bed, tangle them in the blanket, and stumble out of bed.

Curiosity wins out, and I decide to check things out for myself. I swap pajama shorts for sweatpants, pull my hair up into a messy bun, and snag my phone, just in case.

I pad into the hallway and see three men wrangling a sofa the size of a minivan through the open doorway of 2H. The lead guy, a compact, tattooed engine of a human, shouts something in Spanish to the man on his right. The third man is mostly hidden behind the couch, only his dusty ball cap visible above the cushions.

They somehow manage to push the heavy sofa through the doorway and out of sight. I’m debating whether to peek in the door or head back to my apartment when a man steps into view. Oh, holy cow.

He’s tall. Not just tall, but insanely humongous. His T-shirt is black, stretched tight across shoulders that practically block out the light behind him. His face is what gets me. Square jaw. Nose that's clearly been busted and somehow healed even better than before. Eyes so dark the line between iris and pupil just disappears. His hair is dark, too. Neatly cut close on the sides, with a little silver at the temples that manages to make him look both slightly dangerous and completely in control, all at once.

He notices me standing there, swallows, and says nothing. Not “hello,” not “good morning,” not even a “sorry about the noise.” He just stares.

My pulse skids into overdrive. I don’t even have time to feel mortified about my “Coffee spelled backwards is EEFFOC. Until I’ve had coffee, I don’t give eeffoc” T-shirt. My brain empties out, replaced by a sudden, primal awareness of the fact that I am face-to-face with a man who looks like the human version of a military Humvee.

After silence that lasts way too long, I break the unspoken standoff between us. “Hi,” I say, then immediately regret the high, squeaky pitch. “I’m Iris. I live next door.”

He nods, not blinking. “Hunter Hartwell.”

I expect him to say something else. Comment on the weather, apologize for the move, anything. Instead, he just stares as if I’m a particularly complex IKEA manual.

After another, longer pause, I realize it's on me to fill the void. The air between us feels charged, like static electricity before a storm.

"Nice to meet you," I say, and then, because my mouth apparently doesn't listen to my brain, I add, "I planned to sleep in, but…" My voice trails off as his eyes lock with mine.

A flicker of something touches the corners of his mouth. "Sorry for the noise." His deep voice vibrates through me, settling somewhere low in my belly.

This time, there's a glint of something in his eyes—a spark that makes my stomach drop a few stories. Heat blooms across my chest and up my neck.

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