Posts Tagged ‘dark romance’



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Look, Don’t Touch

by Meg Everly

 

(Pieces of Us, #1)
Publication date: August 27th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance, Romance

The scars you see are only the beginning.

Hailey Fitzpatrick

When people see me walking on a New York City sidewalk, they think mousey b*tch and stuck-up c*nt. How do I know? It’s NYC. They yell it to my face. I smile to myself and keep walking. After all, I have clients that need me.

I’m wrapping up my first decade as a licensed clinical psychologist. Things are as good as they’ve ever been. Still, I get the itch. The tattoos worked into my skin take the edge off.

When one of my first clients goes on s*icide watch and on of my newest challenges the very ground on which I stand, I seek relief only being blindfolded and bound can bring.

Arlo Judge

Look all you want. Don’t f*cking touch me. No one does.

I’m no longer that little boy who cowers in fear. I’m six three, two hundred fifteen pounds of muscle, and own the largest conglomerates in the States. Still, that boy’s demons live inside me. One in particular looms over my shoulder, always ready to strike.

When I see her, perfectly poised and in command, I think nothing of the beautiful exterior. Then I see the demons lurking in her striking green eyes. I’m intrigued. Hooked. Obsessed.

I need to know how they came to be and how she hides them so well. I need to dig them out and set her free. I never expected that she could do the same for me.

Doctor Fitzpatrick is now accepting new clients!

Look, Don’t Touch is a dark romance. It is the first in the Pieces of Us Trilogy. It’s an MF, four jalapeño, HFN novel with graphic depictions of s*x and k*nk. Trigger Warning for talks of ab*se, death by s*icide, and m*rder.

Pieces of Us is a polyamorous romance trilogy. Book 2, Forever We Fall is an MM, three jalapeño, HFN novel. Book 3, Hard to Judge is an MMF, four flaming jalapeño, HEA novel.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Hailey

My lips part, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I can say anything without sobbing. So I let him go. The door whispers open and, after a moment, closes with an abrupt snap.

I crumple. My hands engulf my face, and I wail. Thoughts of Matt’s handsome face and his bright and tortured eyes haunt me. Sobs burn in and out of my lungs as though they might catch fire. I cry for what seems like forever. My abs cramp, and my fingers begin to tingle.

“Fuck!” I scream for all I’m worth, thankful for soundproofing, and wish I could have it installed in my brain. Where I could turn it on with the click of a button.

Sobs pull a vacuum on my lungs. My chest feels like it may cave in on itself. If I pass out, I can at least avoid this for a little while.

“Hailey?”

My epic cries stop instantly, caught in my shock.

The heavy whispering voice is still in the room and closer than ever. He’s just over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

I leap from my seat and rush to the window, wiping at my tears and commanding control over my sorrow as I go. My legs wobble but hold me up.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” My shaking hands smooth down my pants. “The door opened and closed. I thought you were gone.”

“Your aunt…I was going to get her for you, but she’s not here.”

I’m nodding and not understanding anything.

Why is he still here? Why is Matt dead? Why couldn’t I save him?

I stare out at the endless sky.

Mr. Judge’s large frame fills my periphery. He stands no more than a foot away to my left. He faces the window.

“I could tell the call you got wasn’t a good one. I thought your aunt could help.”

No one can help.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminds me as if I’m the patient and he’s my therapist. It’s apt for the moment.

I swallow, knowing I shouldn’t say anything. Knowing I can corrupt his treatment more than I already have. If he knows I’ve failed one client, what would that mean for him? Plus, confiding goes beyond the realm of professionalism.

“I just lost a patient.” I choke down a sob. “My first.”

He stuffs his hand into nice slacks. “Patient or loss?”

“First patient and first patient loss.” He’s taller than me by a lot, and I’m not considered short.

“How long have you been doing this?”

I notice a cross-hatched design on the sleeve of his suit jacket before I force my eyes away and back to the sky. The sunset is just beginning to blend its colors into the clouds that are no longer heart-shaped but gray and droopy. They promise rain.

Cold. Darkness. Sorrow.

“Six years licensed with my PhD. Thirteen, if you include all the practicums and internships.”

“It’s never good to lose someone, but it seems almost inevitable in your line of work.” His words are soft.

Sure, colleagues of mine have lost patients. But I don’t specialize in suicide prevention. I’d tried to talk Matt into seeing a psychologist who does. I even set up appointments for him. Time and again, he refused to show up at a single one.

“I specialize in cognitive and behavioral therapy. In the beginning, I saw patients dealing with severe depression, anxiety, and PTSD. Slowly, that shifted into phobias, relationships, and sexual disorders. I’ve been lucky.”

“Or good at your job,” he offers.

My throat aches from my cries and screams. It’s thick and cumbersome. Because of his kindness, the threat of more raging sentiments sits on the precipice of erupting.

“Considering I left you raw and vulnerable with no resolution, cried in front of you, and told you things I shouldn’t, I’ll go with luck.”

The room goes quiet for a long time. We stand side by side, staring at the birds, the trees, the people, the nothingness and everythingness of life in front of us. There’s a calming reassurance in the silence, in his disposition.

“I am sorry.” His words vibrate with meaning.

“Whatever for? You’ve done nothing wrong.” I breathe.

He takes his hand out of his pockets. They hang by his side. He has long fingers, and when he balls them into fists, the veins and muscles in his hands bulge.

“I can’t offer you comfort.”

For a moment, I want to cry for him. For all the comfort and pleasure that he’s lost. For all the connections he’s been unable to make in his life. For his discomfort. For his perennial solitude.

“You don’t have to touch, talk, or even allow me to look at you to provide me comfort, Mr. Judge.” I pull my sneaking gaze away from him and focus on the horizon. The sky has turned dark, drained of all its color. For this moment, it looks brighter than it did thirty minutes ago. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness and presence.”

He nods. I can barely see the movement in my periphery.

“Can I call someone for you?”

There is no one to call.

“No. You’ve helped quite a lot. Thank you.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

I nod. “Goodbye, Mr. Judge.”

He retreats from view. This time, I watch his silhouette as it appears in the light of the exit room in the reflection of the window. He stalls in the doorway.

“Goodbye, Hailey.”

Then he leaves and closes the door behind him.

About Author Meg Everly:

Meg Everly writes stories with sentiment, smut, and love with no bounds.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / TikTok / Booksirens

 

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 A dark, gritty post-apocalyptic tale of love, loathing, & survival!

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Tribes

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by Mia Frances

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Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian, Dark Romantic Suspense

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A dark, gritty post-apocalyptic tale of love, loathing, &
survival!

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 Alex, her
sisters, and their kids are on their way to her camp in the
Adirondack Mountains for the Columbus Day weekend when the
unthinkable happens. A voice on the radio warns the country is under
attack! Greeted by guns and bullets when they try to seek shelter,
they’re forced to hide in a cave to wait out the fallout.

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After two weeks in
their dank hole, Alex wakes up one morning to discover her sisters
gone. They’ve taken the rented minibus and returned to the city to
search for their husbands, leaving Alex to care for her 7 nieces and
nephews. It’s an arduous 35-mile hike through the mountains to her
camp…a journey through hell!

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Society is
devolving. The strong: looters, murderers, and rapists; preying on
the weak. The small hamlets and villages they pass through have
become killing fields, as survivors battle each other for the few
remaining supplies. Above them, the skies are growing darker every
day, blocking out the sun. Temperatures are plummeting. Winter is
coming early.

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Along the way, Alex
rescues two starving orphans whose mother was murdered by marauders.
In her struggle to keep the children alive, Alex stumbles on a hidden
cache of food only to discover it’s guarded by a man who’ll haunt her
nightmares. Half guardian angel, half demon. Both barbarian and
benefactor. A strange mixture of brutality and gentleness, cruelty
and caring. A man named Wolf!

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This book
contains explicit, non-consensual sexual scenes, spankings, and
elements of power exchange, which may offend or trigger some readers.
If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book. For readers
ages 18+

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**On Sale Now!!**

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Amazon
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Alex was trying not to hate them for what they’d done. But it was hard! She told herself she should pity them for their stupidity and cowardice. Unable to cope with reality, it was easier for them to retreat into their fantasies: where the dead were alive and the world was as it once was; or, better still, the saved were carried away in the rapture on heavenly escalators bound for eternal paradise. The past belonged to Victoria and the future with its promise of a glorious hereafter to Cat. But Alex? Alex could find comfort in neither. She was stuck here in this living hell, overwhelmed by the shit, and the stench, and the responsibility! How could they do this to her? They were her sisters; yet they’d betrayed her. Worse still, they’d betrayed their children. Narcissistic bitches! Cunts! Alex sat in silence, listening to the strained sound of her own breathing, stoically resigned to her fate.

“What do we do now?” Deana asked, plaintively.

Without saying a word, Alex got up, and walked from the cave. There was nothing to say. No words of hope. No reassurances that all would be well. The truth was they were going to die; their existence would come to a miserable end. It was only a matter of time.

Alex wanted to feel alive again, breathe fresh air, see the sky, let the wind blow through her hair, marvel at nature’s beauty, before those simple pleasures were taken from her. She wandered over the rocks, peering into the crevices. They reminded her of the world, the way it was now: barren and pockmarked. Alex stared across the river to the place where the minibus had been parked.

They were 35 miles from the camp. Sick and weak from hunger, there was little chance they could make it on foot. How could she expect children to endure such an arduous trek when they were starving? Even if they did have the strength to begin the journey, how many of them would survive it? In their present condition, making the trip across the mountains with its exhausting, steep climbs would take them six days at least. Six days of freezing cold nights, of possible rain, and wind. If hunger didn’t kill them, then exposure to the elements certainly would…not to mention the fallout still drifting down from the skies. She drew her knees up to her chest and, placing her arms across them, rested her head, wearily shutting her eyes. Alex was at a loss to know what to do: stay here in the shelter of the cave and starve to death or begin the odyssey through the wilderness on the slim chance that they might somehow survive it? Alex was tired, and weak from hunger. She wasn’t sure she could survive the journey, let alone the kids. Death seemed inevitable.

She lifted her head and looked around, surveying the cliff below. There was something black and tan resting on the rocks. Alex strained to see what it was. It appeared to be a short length of discarded rope. Near it, some 10 feet away, was another piece, thicker than the first. She made a mental note that they might want to retrieve them to use on their trip back across the river. Alex was turning away when she caught sight of movement down below. It was hard to tell, swaying trees and branches were casting shadows on the rocks. Curiosity aroused, she continued to watch the objects. There it was again. She stood up slowly and began making her way over the rocks. Halfway down, she realized they weren’t pieces of rope at all; they were alive. Snakes! Two big ones! What were they doing here? It was cold. Too cold for snakes to be out and about. They should be hibernating, yet here they were. Alex inched her way closer, eyes glued on the creatures. She’d never thought of reptiles as anything but revolting before, nevertheless, she suddenly found her mouth watering, visions of sizzling meat dancing in her head. Though torpid, they looked healthy and well fed. She wasn’t going to turn her back on good fortune. She intended to put them to good use.

Smiling at her prey, Alex picked up a stone and with as much stealth as she could muster, approached them, hoping they wouldn’t notice her and try to escape. The one on the left was the fattest. He’d be first. Clutching the stone tightly in her hand, she crawled to within two feet of him, then, lifting her weapon, brought it crashing down on its head, smashing the skull. Wriggling, even in death, she grabbed it and quickly turned her attention to the other one. Aware of the danger, it was slithering away. Scrambling over the rocks, Alex saw its head disappear into a crevice. Lunging for it, she managed to wrap her fingers around its tail. Tugging with all her might, she extracted the squirming snake from its hiding place and beat it against the rocks until it stopped moving. Today they’d eat! With just her two hands and a bit of luck she’d managed to stave off starvation, at least for the moment. Perhaps tomorrow they’d go hungry, but even that frightening prospect couldn’t dampen her elation. She looked out over the interminable expanse of green, stretching as far as the eye could see. It seemed less foreboding than it had a few minutes ago. Holding a dangling snake in each hand, Alex headed back to the cave, the tiny ember of hope she’d thought extinguished, glowing brightly once more.

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I did 2 full years of research on the book, taking tons of notes, learning everything I could about wild edibles, native animals, and survival skills before starting it. Every locale mentioned in the story is a real place that we’ve explored and it has the type of plants mentioned in the book. I am a real research freak.

I love the mountains so many of my stories are set in the Adirondacks. We were going to visit my sister-in-law one time and decided to take a 20+-mile shortcut as the crow flies and found ourselves driving along a secluded, unpaved, seasonal, Adirondack logging road. No houses, no people, nothing but miles and miles of trees and spooky shadows. The forest was so thick, so dark, and foreboding, that it gave me goose bumps. I feared we’d get stranded and be eaten by bears never to be seen again. I kept imagining the murders and mayhem that might take place in such a desolate place. By the time we reached civilization and paved roads in the village of Number Four, yes it’s a real place, I had the entire plot of  WORSHIP THE NIGHT worked out: a homicidal librarian who goes on a killing spree, hoping to bring her demon lover to life.

The idea for my IN HIS KEEPING series came from another trip my husband and I took through the Adirondacks. We spent a lot of time there: camping, fishing, and just driving around looking at the scenery. That day we happened on the Westport, NY railroad station, near the banks of Lake Champlain. It’s quaint and  looks like it was built in the 19th century. The train station is where the first book in the series, IN HIS KEEPING: TAKEN,  begins and ends. It’s off the beaten track so I couldn’t help wondering what kind of people would get on and off at a station stop like that. I could see a young woman, down on her luck, who’s circumstances are so dire she’s willing to take a train up from the City and work for someone she’s never met, who she knows nothing about, and live with him in a remote mountain house. As I took pictures of the station, the story  blossomed. I knew I wanted my heroine to be nerdy and smart. I’d met a woman at a writer’s conference a few months earlier whose name was Sylvie. It clicked with me. It sounded spunky and sassy, just like the character I was envisioning. A girl who’s poor but proud,  an innocent who  grew up on a farm in western NY and went to the big city to work in publishing. She’s unemployed, homeless, and on the verge of starving. She needs a job and she’ll take anything she can get. That’s why she gets off the train in Westport. She has no other options. At that point, I had a heroine I liked, but no hero. I knew I wanted him to be a strict, rich alpha male. Dark, sexy, and with a hint of danger. At the time, I had no idea just how dangerous I was going to make him. I also wanted him to be a writer. We left Westport and  headed into the mountains. We drove down back roads and passed secluded log mansions perched on the slopes and dotting the lakeshores. I could see my guy living as a recluse in one of them. I picked his last name first:Hudson. I named him after the river, which originates in the Adirondacks and is 5 miles from my house. I came up with the first name Connor a few days later. That same day I heard something that made me decide to make it a threesome. I added a serial killer to the mix. It happened quite by accident. I was checking out Trans Siberian Orchestra’s holiday concert schedule, then went to YouTube to view videos of their past performances. O Fortuna from Carmina Burana popped up. I’d been to their concerts and heard them play it before. I listened to several  other versions of the piece that day and happened on one by  conductor André Rieu  André Rieu – O Fortuna (Carl Orff – Carmina Burana). It gave me an eerie feeling. The drums, the crashing cymbals, the staccato rhythm, the raised voices of the chorus, it sounded violent,  almost frightening. I could visualize an attack, knives, blood,  and a life and death struggle. The song provided the final elements of the plot and the most affecting scenes of the series when Sylvie comes face to face with the killer. In His Keeping Trailer

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Mia Frances is the pen name of author Mary Vigliante Szydlowski. As
Mia, she’s the author of the dark, gritty post-apocalyptic romance,
TRIBES; steamy romantic suspense novel, Little Girl Lost; and the
erotic romance, murder mystery series: IN HIS KEEPING: TAKEN, IN HIS
KEEPING: BANISHED, and IN HIS KEEPING: CLAIMED.

Her Science Fiction/Fantasy works
include novels: The Ark (Jarl Szydlow), The Colony (Mary Vigliante),
The Land (Mary Vigliante), Source of Evil (Mary Vigliante), and
novella, The Hand of My Enemy. She’s also the author of horror novel,
Worship the Night; and Dark Realm, the tale of a dystopian world
ruled by Satan. In addition, she’s the author of mainstream novel
Silent Song.

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She’s also published 11 children’s book: There’s A Mouse In The
House,  Are We There Yet?, Little Sowbug & the Big Flood,
Ghoul School, Millie Muldoon & the Case of the Halloween
Haunting, Millie Muldoon & the Case of the Thanksgiving
Turkey-napper, Millie Muldoon & the Christmas Mystery, A Puddle
for Poo, Kia’s Manatee, The Duck in the Hole, and I Can’t Talk I’ve
Got Farbles In My Mouth.

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Her short stories, articles, children’s stories, essays, and
poems have appeared in books, magazines, newspapers, and on the web.
She’s also a contributor to the Chicken Soup for the Soul
anthologies: The Dog Did What?, Volunteering and Giving Back, Merry
Christmas!, Mom Knows Best, and Life Lessons from the Dog.

She’s a member of the Authors’ Guild, SCBWI (Society of
Children’s Books Writers and Illustrators), SFWA (Science Fiction &
Fantasy Writers of America), and RWA (Romance Writers of America).

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Website
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Amazon
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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Defying Evil: A Dark Romantic Thriller

by Abbie Roads

 

(Blood is Thicker Than…, #1)
Publication date: October 17th 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Thriller

He’s the son of a serial killer.
She’s his father’s only surviving victim.
He’s obsessed with her.
She’s frightened of him.
Before it’s all over they’ll need each other to survive.

Cain Killion’s life has revolved around blood. From a childhood of torture by his father, to his gruesome ability to solve crimes. When a current case is directly connected to his past, there’s only one person with answers.

But she isn’t talking, and the bodies are stacking up. The only solution… Kidnap her.

Defying Evil is the first book in the Blood is Thicker Than Series of dark romantic thrillers. It features a man tortured by his past who never thought he was capable of love. If you devour edge of your seat thrillers and romance novels, you’ll love a series that combines both in a roller-coaster ride of mind games and tragic love.

Read this dangerously dark romance today!

Trigger warning: Depictions of violence.

Previously published until the title Saving Mercy.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The first thing Mercy became aware of was her face throbbing a low-level beat. Her bones ached, and her muscles felt too heavy to move. Her side burned with every inhale and exhale. Her stomach felt oddly distended and empty at the same time.

“Are you awake?” a masculine voice whispered.

Her heart slammed against her spine, and her muscles leaped. She gasped a sound of undiluted shock and wrenched her eyes open.

The world around her had changed. Gone was the sterile room with bars on the windows. Gone was the stench of industrial cleaning products laced with cafeteria food. Gone was the entire Center. In its place was a cozy wood-paneled room with a quaint stone fireplace and a man.

His hair was the color of dark caramel and cut just long enough to be swept messily to the side. His features were angular and hard and so damned masculine it almost hurt to look at him. His eyes were the color of a changing sky—light in the center of the iris like a cloudless summer day and dark like a winter’s night toward the outer edge.

She knew him. Recognition stabbed her in the neck—in the scar she bore across her throat. The echo of that past pain stole her breath. She grabbed her throat, hand pressing over the cold scar. Her heart turned into a battering ram and beat against the bars of her ribs.

She went from lying on the bed to fully upright and ready to run.

“You.” The word was an accusation, a condemnation, a judgment, scraping its way up her throat and out her lips. She wasn’t going to show him an ounce of fear. He’d swallowed her fear twenty years ago and enjoyed the flavor.

He blinked, a long, lazy closing of his eyes, and when he reopened them, the light in his gaze had been devoured by the dark. “I’m not him.” He spoke with just as much conviction as her allegation had contained.

His words turtle-crawled from her ears to her brain, their meaning finally firing along her synapses, and she understood.

Her body unclenched, and she relaxed against the headboard with an exaggerated sigh. As the initial in-your-face shock wore off, she could actually see him. See the humanity in his features. Something his father would never possess.

“I know you.” Her voice was softer and held a bit of wonder in its palm.

“I’m not him.” He repeated the sentence, nothing in his tone changing, but she saw something in his eyes—through his eyes. Sadness. Resolve. And just a hint of fear. That was her undoing. That he could be scared of her—wow.

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About Author Abbie Roads:

Abbie Roads is the best-selling author of the Fatal Dreams Series and the Fatal Truth Series. Her novels have been finalists in many prestigious contests including The Golden Heart, The Greater Detroit Booksellers Best, The Oklahoma National Readers’ Choice Award, The Write Touch, The Strut Your Stuff Contest, The Aspen Gold Contest, The Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, The Heart of Excellence Readers’ Choice Award, The Midnight Sun, The Kathryn Hayes Contest, The Chanticleer, The Daphne du Maurier, The National Readers’ Choice Award, The New England Readers’ Choice Contest, The Beverly Award, and The Maggie Award. Her debut novel Race the Darkness was Publishers Weekly Top 10 Pick for Fall and Never Let Me Fall is an Amazon Editor’s Pick.

By day Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor always focusing on the bright side. By night she writes on the dark side, putting her characters through the wringer before she gives them their happily-ever-after. She loves a good inspirational quote and is a fan of true crime.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Shattered Dreams

by Abbie Roads

 

(Beautiful Nightmare, #3)
Publication date: July 11th 2023
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Romance

A crooked cop. Corruption. A woman convicted of murder. A man determined to prove her innocence.

When Helena Grayse is released from prison, all she wants is to say a final goodbye to her old life. But when a man finds her trespassing on his property, instead of turning her in, he takes her in. Accepts her. Loves her.

But someone decides to serve Helena with a death sentence.

Shattered Dreams is the third book in Abbie Roads’ Beautiful Nightmare Series of dark romantic thrillers. It features a felon heroine who never thought she deserved love. If you devour true crime and romance novels then you’ll love a series that combines both in a roller-coaster ride of danger, mind games, and swoon worthy love.

Buy this dangerously dark romance today!

Trigger warning: Depictions of SA and violence.

Previously Published under the title Never Let Me Fall.

Add to Goodreads / Pre-order

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Enjoy this peek inside:

He squeezed her hand. She hadn’t realized he still held it.

He kept hold of her as he led her upstairs.

For the first time in a long time, she realized she was afraid.

Afraid of everything.

Afraid of the past and the future. Afraid of rejection and acceptance. Afraid of living and dying.

The only thing she wasn’t afraid of was him.

At his bedroom doorway, he dropped her hand. She froze. Unable to move. As if the reassurance of his touch was all that kept her going.

His eyes were full of anguish. Guilt swelled inside her. She’d put that look on his face. She’d done that to him. She wanted to die.

“It’s okay.” His voice sounded firm and solid, so at odds with how he looked. He motioned for her to enter the room ahead of him.

She forced her feet to move. Behind her, she heard the door close. The scrape of old metal on metal was loud in the room. The lock. He was locking her in. Another prison.

Blinding terror whipped her around. But Thomas stood there with her, holding the skeleton key. All her fear evaporated.

He put the key in his pants pocket, then met her gaze. “You’re not going to run away from this.” Each of his words was a blow to her defenses. “We’re going to stay in here until you deal with…” He paused as if he couldn’t find the word he wanted. “Everything.” Compassion warred with terrible determination on his face.

Her body began trembling, and she shook her head.

He took a slow step toward her as if he worried any sudden movements would cause her to bolt. He wasn’t wrong. Her legs twitched with the urge to run, to escape.

“Why—” His one word sped at her like a bullet.

Why? Which why did he want the answer to? Why had she gone to prison? Why had she murdered Rory? Why did she attack him? Why did she bite him?

“—do you keep running from caring and kindness? Especially after everything you’ve been through.” His tone was soft and serious, his gaze locked on her as if he expected to see an answer, but she couldn’t even understand the words he’d spoken.

Her ears heard him, but her mind got tripped up on the translation. Where was the criticism, condemnation, accusation? She needed those things. Not this.

He took another slow step toward her, stopping when he was inside her space, mere inches separating them. She was too tired to fight or resist anymore. Too exhausted to carry the burden of what she’d been through. She wanted to set it down and walk away, but she didn’t know how.

“You’ve been through some shit, and you’re having a hard time realizing it’s over.” He slid his hands around the back of her neck and used his thumbs to tilt her chin upward. His touch sent pleasant, warm tingles through her body, calming the alarm bells in her psyche. Slowly, he lowered his head to her. Was he going to kiss her? Right now? Her girlie parts cheered: Rah-rah-sis-boom-bah.

But he stopped when his forehead rested against hers, and all she could see was him. He filled every inch of her vision, making it impossible to look anywhere but at him. In that moment, he was her world. Nothing existed except him.

His scar heated her forehead where it touched her. His breath fanned across her face, sweet and warm. His eyes bored into her.

“It’s. Over. Leave it in the past where it belongs, because in this moment, you’re in my house. You’re with me. You’re. Safe.” His lips brushed against her mouth as he spoke. “You’re. Safe.”

She inhaled the words as if they were oxygen. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his voice, his hands on her neck, on the meaning of what he said. Desire to believe him warred with the ugliness in her soul.

“Look at me. I want to see you.” His voice brimmed with some emotion she couldn’t name.

She couldn’t resist him. His eyes were the night sky, and she longed to sail among the stars.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. The scars on your body are evidence of other people’s shame, not yours. They don’t define you unless you let them. They don’t own you unless you let them. They can’t change you unless you let them. This self-condemnation you’ve got, this fear you have… You’re letting them win. You’re letting every single person who hurt you have control over you, and they aren’t even here. You’re the one who’s hurting yourself.”

A tornado of terrible memories scooped her up, whirled her around until she was dizzy, and then set her back down. Here. With Thomas.

He was right.

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Author Abbie Roads:

Abbie Roads is the best-selling author of the Fatal Dreams Series and the Fatal Truth Series. Her novels have been finalists in many prestigious contests including The Golden Heart, The Greater Detroit Booksellers Best, The Oklahoma National Readers’ Choice Award, The Write Touch, The Strut Your Stuff Contest, The Aspen Gold Contest, The Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, The Heart of Excellence Readers’ Choice Award, The Midnight Sun, The Kathryn Hayes Contest, The Chanticleer, The Daphne du Maurier, The National Readers’ Choice Award, The New England Readers’ Choice Contest, The Beverly Award, and The Maggie Award. Her debut novel Race the Darkness was Publishers Weekly Top 10 Pick for Fall and Never Let Me Fall is an Amazon Editor’s Pick.

By day Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor always focusing on the bright side. By night she writes on the dark side, putting her characters through the wringer before she gives them their happily-ever-after. She loves a good inspirational quote and is a fan of true crime.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Kidnapped Killer

by Nina R Schluntz

Genre: LGBTQ Dark M/M Paranormal Romance

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One brief encounter and Jimena is determined to make Nic his at all costs. He wants him to be completely and utterly at his mercy. But, popular, gorgeous Nic doesn’t see Jimena. He is background material at best.
Until Jimena drugs him at a bar and ties him up in his basement.
If that didn’t get Nic’s attention, then the dozen or so bodies buried in the basement he’s tied up in does.
Nic feeds on souls. They taste better if they are flavored by strong emotion, usually fear or pain.
Jimena tastes different. His soul is flavored in obsessive love, focused on Nic. He’s never been loved by someone before, even if it is an unhealthy love and Jimena wants him dead. Not in a hateful way, but in a, I don’t want anyone else to have you, kind of way.
If only Nic could convince him to try being a normal boyfriend, he might be able to feed off Jimena’s soul for a few decades.
A deadly dance begins. A demon wanting to be loved and a serial killer wanting to kill his lover.
If they can find a balance, they might just find they’re perfect for each other.

**Get it FREE!!**

Amazon * Goodreads

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Interview with Author Nina R. Schluntz

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When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

 

I was holding a pen and scribbling gibberish from the start. Before I even knew how to write words, I was jotting down tales in a notebook I carried around. My earliest memories are of me in the backseat of the car, writing away, then getting annoyed later when I couldn’t read my notes, because it was just scribbles.

 

What is your favorite writing quirk (about yourself)?

 

I can stop writing in the middle of a sentence, then come back weeks or months later and pick right up where I’d stopped. My brain just has a pause button. I don’t take notes or anything either. The stories do change if I wait too long, but I can still pick up the paragraph or sentence from right where I left off.

 

What do you do when you are not writing?

 

The things most people do, watch tv or movies, read a good book. Recently I got into hydrangeas—I do not recommend them. They are up their with orchids in the care department, at least for us non-green thumb folks.

 

What is your favorite part of the writing process?

 

The brainstorming process is my favorite. When the stories and characters are just in my head. Once I start putting them on the pages, it turns into work. All that editing and such.

 

How do you know when a book is “the one” to write?

 

When I think of a scene that gives me a physical response. Whether crying or butterflies, if the idea makes me feel something, then I know it will for the readers too.

 

What do you think makes a good story?

 

The ones that give you that emotional kick in the gut. You need to get invested to the point you are hurting or cheering right along with the characters.

 

What comes first, for you, character or plot?

 

Scenes. There will usually be one scene that I think of, and then the whole story is written around bringing that pivotal moment to life.

 

What was the spark or inspiration for this story?

 

I have a friend who is a beta reader and he has always wanted me to write a vampire story. He loves vampires. I decided to make a reluctant pairing. A vampire who doesn’t want a mate, he has been scorned to many times. And a human man, who, like many of us, doesn’t think he can get pregnant. His attraction to the vampires actually repulses him and makes him want to fight them even more, giving people just cause to think he’s a vampire slayer.

 

The story includes three love stories. All three are reluctant pairings. One is a man who gets turned into a vampire, despite trying to avoid such a thing all his life. And the last is a woman who has not tested positive as someone who can be a surrogate, yet fate has other ideas.

 

How did you decide on the title of your book?

At first it was Vampire Dairi, but I figured no one would know what a Dairi is. Dairi is a substitute, proxy or agent. I went with Surrogate for a Vampire, so the readers would understand better.

 

Describe your book in five words (or less), and why?

 

Vampires need humans for reproduction.

 

And not in the traditional sense! The men can get the human women pregnant! You’ll have to read it to find out more.

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Nina Schluntz is a native to rural Nebraska. In her youth, she often wrote short stories to entertain her friends. Those ideas evolved into the novels she creates today.

Her husband continues to ensure her stories maintain a touch of realism as she delves into the science fiction and fantasy realm. Their three cats are always willing to stay up late to provide inspiration, whether it is a howl from the stray born in the backyard or an encouraging bite from the so called “calming kitten.”

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

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Unwanted Complication
Harley Wylde & Paige Warren
Published by: Changeling Press
Publication date: April 15th 2022
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Mafia, Romance

I’m the monster in the dark. The Boogeyman. I shouldn’t touch her. Shouldn’t keep her. But I will.

Raina — A man took me from my home in Tahiti when I was only five. They called it an adoption, but I know the truth. My parents sold me, pure and simple. My life has been one nightmare after another, a living hell that I can’t escape. When my owner gives me as payment to Feliks Sobol, I think it’s just like any other time. But it’s not. He’s different. Under the darkness and danger, there’s a tenderness I’ve never experienced. I want him. I shouldn’t, but I do. He might be the one who ends up breaking me.

Feliks — I’m the monster in the shadows, the man everyone fears. I’ve done unspeakable things, and I will do them again without a hint of remorse. I’m Bratva, born and bred. Hard. Unyielding. Yet when I’m around Raina, there’s another side of me that emerges. One that’s weaker. Wanting her could get me killed. Yet I can’t let her go. Until my brigadier demands I choose. Raina, or the woman I wish to marry. I decide to hold on to the power I’ll gain by marrying Natalia Gorev. I didn’t realize it was too late. Raina is already under my skin, and when she’s taken, I know I’ve made the wrong choice. I’ll bathe the city in blood if that’s what it takes to get her back. I only hope she can forgive me.

WARNING: This is a dark romance suitable for those 18+ and contains strong language, graphic violence, sexual situations, human trafficking, and a dark undertone that some may find objectionable.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Someone once told me, “As long as you’re hurting, you know you’re alive.” If so, I was definitely alive. My wrists and ankles ached from the constant presence of the shackles that bound me. I preferred that pain over the other, though. I just didn’t understand why anyone would want to live like this. I’d prefer to die than continue in this hell.

“There’s my little slut.”

I cringed as I turned to face the man who had adopted me. I liked to think my family wouldn’t have given me away if they’d known why he’d paid so much. Maybe it was a fantasy. My parents could have been just as awful as the man who’d bought me.

“Come here. Now.”

I walked over, knowing my chains would reach as far as the doorway. He grabbed my chin as I stopped in front of him. I knew better than to look him in the eye. Nothing good ever came of it. He’d punish me for such insolence.

“It’s time to get you clean and prepped. I have a special guest coming.”

Which translated into he owed someone money or a favor, and the best way to pay them back was to let them use me how they saw fit. He’d turned me into his personal whore, and if I dared to disobey or fight back, then it got much worse. In the twisted mind of Gary Leeds, I owed him for the food he gave me and the roof over my head. And he took payment however he wanted, whenever he wanted.

He pulled the keys from his pocket and unfastened my cuffs. The first time they’d rusted, he’d cursed about me costing him additional money. Now he freed me when it was shower time, but I didn’t dare try to run away. I rubbed at my wrists as he hauled me to my feet and began shoving me in the direction of the bathroom.

Gary twisted the shower knob, only the cold one. He got a perverse pleasure out of watching my nipples get hard under the icy spray. With a grin stretching his lips, he jabbed me until I stumbled under the water, then reached for the soap. Every time he washed me, I went somewhere else in my mind. His hands lingered in places I tried not to think about. When the water turned off, I quickly dried myself, braided my long hair, then went back into the bedroom. He’d said this was a special client, which meant he’d take me to the playroom.

Gary put another set of cuffs on me, prettier ones to showcase his merchandise, then led me downstairs. He unlocked the door to my worst nightmare, then pushed me inside. The lights came on, nearly blinding me, and I tried not to look at everything in the room. I already knew what was here. I’d experienced it all firsthand.

He led me over to the waist-high table, then forced me over it. Once he’d secured my hands at the middle of my back and anchored me to the table, he kicked my legs apart and fastened my ankles to two O-rings on the floor. Shackled and unable to move, I stood bent over the bench and spread wide for whatever his guest wanted to do. It also would give them access to my mouth. I hated Gary. Hated his friends. Hated my life.

Gary leaned over me, his breath against my ear, his cock pressing against me. “Let’s get you ready, shall we?”

I stared blankly at the wall ahead of me. He took great pleasure in lubing me, then inserting the largest anal plug he owned. It was silver, and the metal was cold as it entered me. I winced as it burned and stretched me, but crying out only gave him a thrill. He loved to make me suffer.

A knock at the door drew Gary’s attention. I heard a murmur of voices when he went to the hallway. He typically liked to leave me like this for a while before anyone arrived. He’d look at me, touch me, let his favorite guards do the same. After his guest finished with me, he’d allow any of his staff to fuck me.

The room was chilly, and my nipples were so hard they hurt. That was the main reason for the temperature of the room. Gary loved seeing the tips of my breasts harden into peaks. Even if it wasn’t from desire, he got off on it. Enjoyed touching them.

I heard a loud voice drawing nearer and realized the man had a thick accent. Russian? Oh, hell. My nape prickled. If Gary had borrowed money from the Bratva, I didn’t think the offer of my body would be enough. I’d heard stories of how ruthless they were. The man entered the room. I didn’t dare look at him, but I was aware of his presence. It was a tangible thing, his voice like a caress against my skin.

“What is the meaning of this?” the man demanded. “I can have a whore without relieving your debts. Did you forget the Bratva-owned brothels are the best in this city?”

“Of course not, Mr. Sobol. I meant no disrespect. I’ve had many compliments over Raina and thought only to offer her to you as a down payment on the amount I owe. As a kryshas for Mr. Petrov, I thought perhaps we could come to an agreement. In exchange for an hour with her in the playroom, you lessen my debt by, say… one thousand?” Gary asked.

The Russian snorted. “Nyet.”

Author Harley Wylde:

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

Author links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok / Bookbub

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Author Paige Warren:

Paige Warren is a contemporary romance author who believes in happily-ever-after for everyone. Sexy, steamy stories about mobsters, cowboys, inked bad boys, and interracial couples…sometimes with a bit of kink. If you like alpha heroes and strong heroines, then you’re in the right place! No matter the odds, in a Paige Warren book, true love conquers all.

When her husband, children, and furbabies aren’t demanding her attention, she’s typically either writing or reading. Paige enjoys reading a variety of genres from young adult books, to general fiction, and of course romances! But when it comes to movies, she’s a big-time horror fan – especially the 80’s slasher flicks. That being said, ghostly movies are her favorite regardless of when they were made, like Rose Red or The Amityville Horror.

Author links:
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Black Canvas
Laura Rossi
Publication date: February 14th 2021
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Psychological Thriller, Suspense

“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes.
And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs.”

“A story of mystery and intrigue weaved together with prose so delectable, so sublime. A must-read. A masterpiece. A thrill.”
Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

Goodreads / Amazon

Enjoy this peek inside:

“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes.

And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs. I can be both the wife and the whore. I’m a better version of myself and a better version of Miss Perfection.

But most importantly I have control.

I’ve never had control.

Then, my eyes open to the real world—right when he’s kissing me in the dream, before he can tell me I’m the love of his life and that he only thinks of me.

I wonder if he lies to her like he lies to me every time we see each other. Does he tell her he loves her? And why? Why does he love her?

She does nothing for him, besides being her.

‘I love you for what you do for me’

Those are his words of love for me. In the moment, they mean everything, but they don’t stay long. They vanish with him—with my dream.

I’m jealous of what he says to her; I hate the way he looks at her.

No secret meetings, no hiding, no masks to disguise ourselves… Everything is out in the open in my dream. I wonder what that would feel like, to live our love out in the open.

Before I wake up completely, I feel this resentment; the rage resurfaces.

Would he be mine if it weren’t for her? Would he have married me, if it weren’t for her? I start to lose control again. I want what she has. I want him.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. I have no reason to get out of bed so early. I’m alone, and I spend the first moments of my day—of each single day of my life—wondering if he’s sleeping close to her, if he’s breathing her scent… Wondering if and when he’ll call me.

I have no control. He decides. He sets up our meetings. He tells me where and when. My role is to be there on time and the way he wants it. Possibly naked.

It’s only when I get his text that I have the incentive to get up. It changes my day. I work around our meeting, I do what I have to do and I hope time flies to the moment when I’ll see him again.

My whole existence revolves around him.

And is focused on how I can be more like her.

I would do anything, anything, Doctor. Anything to be her.”

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About Author Laura Rossi:

My name is Laura and I am dreamer, the kind that walks around all day and likes to go back and forth, from the real world to her own little world.

I have two kids and a fantastic partner. We work together in our little shop in Italy, near the beach.

When I am not busy working or being a mommy, I like to fantasize about new characters and new stories I’d like to write.

Counterpoints is my first book.

Follow the story @laurarossiauthor on facebook

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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Welcome to The Friday 56 hosted by Freda’s Voice.

 

This is a really fun meme!

The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.

Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!

My 56 for this week is from

 Choices

by Sarah Ann Walker

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My 56 is actually from page 65.

I wish I could scream every disappointment of every single thing this man who claims I’m the love of his life has done to me this year. I wish I could make him understand what he’s done to what was once us. But I doubt he’d understand anyway.

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Synopsis

“Crying, I can’t help but realize, nothing in life can destroy you faster
than your own choices…”

Samantha Newman is awesome.
She has best friends, a soul mate, and the love of her life.
She is loved, and she loves in return.
She is sexy, intelligent, successful, and happy.
People gravitate toward her, and live for her love…
Until she has an accident.

Recovering, things begin changing in and around her.
Samantha is no longer loved and trusted, and she’s no longer happy.
When her life becomes little more than grey darkness,
She slowly loses everyone who ever mattered to her.
Through a series of choices made,
Samantha become nothing but a memory of her former self.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

Leave your link and I’ll drop by your 56.

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Welcome to the Official Trailer Blast Reveal for Jennifer Shaw Wolf’s DEAD GIRLS DON’T LIE

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[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiDkkSDmfrI]

That is a great trailer!

Did it make you want to read Dead Girls Don’t Lie?

I know I’ll be reading it soon!

Read on to learn more about this exciting story and enter the awesome giveaway!

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Rachel died at two a.m . . . Three hours after Skyler kissed me for the first time. Forty-five minutes after she sent me her last text. Jaycee and Rachel were best friends. But that was before. . .before that terrible night at the old house. Before Rachel shut Jaycee out. Before Jaycee chose Skyler over Rachel. Then Rachel is found dead. The police blame a growing gang problem in their small town, but Jaycee is sure it has to do with that night at the old house. Rachel’s text is the first clue—starting Jaycee on a search that leads to a shocking secret. Rachel’s death was no random crime, and Jaycee must figure out who to trust before she can expose the truth. In the follow-up to her powerful debut, Jennifer Shaw Wolf keeps readers on their toes in another dark, romantic story of murder and secrets.

PRE-ORDER IT NOW!

AMAZON | BOOK DEPOSITORY | BARNES AND NOBLE

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One winner will get a signed copy of DEAD GIRLS DON’T LIE

One winner will get a signed copy of BREAKING BEAUTIFUL

Shipping in US Only – Must be 13+ to Enter

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Jennifer Shaw Wolf grew up on a farm in the tiny town of St. Anthony, Idaho. She spent cold Idaho mornings milking cows in the dark and attended a school where Hunter’s Education was part of the sixth grade curriculum. She’s always been a writer, whether it was sewing together books to read to her little brothers or starting an underground newspaper in sixth grade. She met the love of her life at Ricks College, (now BYU Idaho), after he dropped her on her head. She graduated from Ricks and then Brigham Young University, Provo with a degree in Broadcast Communications. Now she lives in beautiful, green, (rainy) Lacey, Washington with her husband and four kids. She loves to produce videos, ski, ride horses, and read, but really all she has time for is chasing kids and writing.

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