“You don’t want me, Summer,” he said firmly. “I’m quite old, used-up, and I don’t even know how to be with someone anymore.” “I don’t think that’s true,” Summer murmured. “Isn’t it?” Silence, before Summer said slowly, “Maybe I’m wrong. . .  I’m probably wrong. Or maybe you were a good enough teacher that I can figure some things out. But either way, I think you shut yourself away while you needed to…but your protective walls turned into a cage when you didn’t need them anymore, and now you can’t find your way out.” Shut yourself away while you needed to. The simple memory of just why he’d shut himself away cut deep, digging down to a tiny pain that lived at his heart. He’d made it tiny deliberately, so he could compact it down into a thing so small it could fit in the palm of his hand, all of that agony crushed down into nothing so that he could never touch too much of it at any one time, its surface area barely the size of a fingerprint. And then he’d tucked it away, burying it down where he couldn’t reach it. But those simple words threatened to…

If Dawn hadn’t already succumbed to Adam’s sexual allure, the sight that greeted her as she entered the barn would have sealed the deal right then and there. He wasn’t, as Phoebe had said, putting Gigi through her paces. On the contrary, he was lying on his back with his hands behind his head, allowing the puppy to crawl all over him. Gigi explored and licked and tugged at the buttons of his shirt, as sure of her reception as any adorable ball of fur had a right to be. And on the hay, too, straw itch mites be damned. Dawn paused to watch, unwilling to draw too close for fear Adam would hear her and ruin the moment. I want that, she thought. Not just to crawl all over Adam as her mood and desires demanded—which, admittedly, she wanted a lot—but to elicit that relaxed look on his face, the expression of easy enjoyment. They enjoyed each other’s bodies, obviously, but they were never relaxed together. Never easy. Now that she thought about it, few men were with her. What is it about me that makes it so impossible? “I know you’re there,” he said, not bothering to raise…

Through Me, the Way Lightning struck and I flinched. The rain came down in hard pellets, but I kept watching Abe and Miho as they drifted away. I waited until they disappeared into town before I walked inside my house, dripping wet. The sound of the storm was a steady roar on the cedar shingles above me, but the stone walls, silent and still, filled me with a sense of safety. I didn’t light any lamps, and the gray afternoon filtered in through the windows. There was a small open area inside the front door of my house. To the left, a fireplace along the outside wall. To the right was a rather long, galley-style kitchen, and at the end of it a narrow space where I ate and wrote and spent time thinking. The wide double doors that faced out the back were open, but they were sheltered by the eaves of the house so the water wasn’t coming in. I stared at the plains sweeping away in a graceful downhill for a long, long way, covered in a dense curtain of rain that hit the ground before rising in a ghostly mist. I went into my bedroom, the…

Chapter 1 The police didn’t believe me. A jury wouldn’t have, either, if I’d gone on trial, and most definitely not the judge. My attorney had more than a few reservations about my story. Ms. Allerton hadn’t said as much. She didn’t need to. I saw it in her eyes, could tell by the way she shuffled and reshuffled her papers, as if doing so might shake my lies clean off the pages, leaving only the truth behind in her inky, royal blue swirls. After our first meeting I’d concluded she must’ve known early on–before she shook my hand with her icy fingers–that I was a liar. Before she’d walked into the room in shiny, four-inch heels, she’d no doubt decided she’d heard my excuses, or a variation thereof, from countless clients already. I was yet another person claiming to be innocent. Another criminal who’d remained adamant they’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t their fault, honest, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary, a wall of impending doom surrounding me. And still, at the time I’d believed the only reason Ms. Allerton had taken on my case pro bono was because of the amount of publicity it gave…

In this scene from Hard Lust, Megan has continued to break countless rules—a no-no in Hell. Aroused by her spunk, Vespar tosses her over his shoulder and carries her to the club’s voyeur area. *** Megan hoped breaking the rules didn’t mean she’d have to face her demons—for real. Working double shifts at Sally Jean’s had almost killed her. Down here, she didn’t have the luxury of checking out permanently, only an eternity without any employee rights, raises, or bonuses. Unless she wanted to count a bite of chocolate every billion years. Or the sex. Vespar bypassed devils and servers humping on equipment she’d never envisioned nor heard about in Story of O, a book she couldn’t bring herself to read. Misogyny in real life was bad enough. Who’d want to revisit the same concept, juiced on steroids, for entertainment? Moans, grunts, and wails competed with the music. Upon climax, the servers and demons they passed wore ecstatic grimaces, each lost in their own world that had taken them far from the ordeals here. Maybe they were on to something. Hell might be hell, but sex with Andros, Racan, and Vespar, three of the hottest demons around, was another matter…

from SISTERS AND SECRETS by Jennifer Ryan, available for preorder now and available next Tuesday, June 16th!  Chapter Three Heather pulled onto the shoulder and parked the car next to the mailboxes. She checked the car seat behind her and found her daughter, Hallee, still slumbering, her face soft and sweet. Every time she looked at her little girl, she saw a glimpse of the man she’d loved and lost. Cars drove by on the main road. She climbed out and inhaled the slightly salty scent in the air, though they were a ways from the beach. She loved it here in Carmel Valley. So much so, she’d never left. Not like Sierra. She couldn’t imagine all her sister had been through these last weeks. Mom called an hour ago, said she’d heard from Sierra, and asked Heather to stop by after work to talk about Sierra and the boys. She missed her sister. But as much as she wanted to help, she dreaded Sierra’s return. Everyone would start asking questions about Heather’s daughter again. Family. They wanted all the details about your successes and mistakes. Hopefully, Sierra’s troubles would keep them all occupied and off her back. Life had…

“I thought most women wanted happily ever after?” His gaze never left her face, the scrutiny making her uncomfortable. Becky pulled her hand away and turned to watch Byron. She didn’t like anyone looking too closely into what made her tick. “Maybe when they start out as little girls reading fairytales. But then real life happens, and they grow up. Some faster than others.” And it’s not that she didn’t want it. The plain and simple truth was that true love hadn’t come knocking at her door. “That’s a very cynical approach.” Better to let him believe she was cynical rather than a disappointed little girl who grew up but never let go of her fairy tale ending. “No different than your own.” She shrugged, looking back at him. “Well, okay, then. I’ve been thinking this through, and I believe it’s important for us to move fast but to make it look real. It’s a matter of finding the right balance, and that’s what we need to discuss to land on the same page.” Steve lowered his voice as a mother walked by pushing a baby stroller. “I’m listening.” Fast worked for her when it came to getting Byron healthcare…

The cottage appeared to be abandoned, but something about it took hold of Peyton. The tall flight of steps leading up into the trees was worn but solid, taking him onto a deep porch that encircled it, framed with gingerbread bannisters. Between the water and the edge of the yard, if you could call it that, was a stand of mangroves so thick and tall that they would likely block the water view eventually, but for now they just made the house feel protected. He could hear Finn advising him: If there ain’t no other shelter, why, head for the mangroves. They’ll hold back the tide. Walking the circumference of the cottage, Peyton could see that it was more porch than house. On the porch ceiling, he spotted two sturdy hooks about five feet apart. They likely had held a swing or a hammock at one time—long gone now. The whole structure from floor to ceiling was built of cypress. Its tall windows were all shuttered. Peyton unfastened the shutters covering one of them and peered inside. The place looked empty. He tried the front door, which immediately creaked open into a large room with a little kitchen built into…

Chapter Three With the sun casting a glittery effect on the sand and surf, the image gave off a perfect depiction of tranquility and whispered a message that all was right. It was the same picture Josie worked diligently to showcase as well over the years to help hide the debilitating fears that were constantly threatening to overtake her. Through carefully placed smiles and keeping to the edges of every situation, she did a good job most of the time, but the unexpected visit from August Bradford had rattled her. She worried it would expose the shadows that continuously lurked just underneath her surface, at the ready to swallow up the light. It wasn’t due to the man himself, but the aftermath he would leave in his wake once another wave of an opportunity picked him up and carried him far from the shore of Sunset Cove. Opal and Sophia prattled in their lounge chairs on either side of Josie. She’d mostly tuned them out as Opal recapped her disastrous encounter with August Bradford at the diner. “He left his number. How much more obvious could the man be about his interest?” Opal snickered, straightening the top of her crocheted…

“Let’s try this,” she said. “Tell me what you know about The Dream, and I’ll be on my way.” “If I knew something, I’d tell you. Why is this Dream person dangerous? What did he do?” She leaned closer. “He murdered two men in cold blood.” “I never have gotten that saying. In cold blood. What does that even mean?” Agent Uribe gritted her teeth. “It means he showed no remorse. He feels no empathy.” The waitress walked back over. “Do you want to ordah somethin’ to eat?” “No, tha—” “Absolutely. I’m famished.” Samuel smiled and picked up the menu. “Hmm . . . are the jalapeño poppers good?” “If you like hot.” Samuel pursed his lips. “Maybe the burger, beer, and fries. What’s a Narragansett? Wait, isn’t that the name of a town?” Uribe was glaring at him. “They make lagahs,” the waitress said. “Eh, maybe I shouldn’t have a beer. What about . . . kabobs? You serve kabobs? That’s interesting.” “Is that what you’d like?” The waitress sounded slightly annoyed. “No, I don’t think so. Just give me a cheeseburger and fries.” He folded the menu. The waitress wrote down the order and went back into the…