“He’s a cop, and cops tend to dig up shit that should stay buried. My fear is I’ll let him get too close and he’ll see who I really am.”
“And, who are you?”
MonaLisa spun around and grinned. “Your greatest fantasy or your worst nightmare.” She erupted in raspy laughter, baring her pearly teeth. “Sometimes I’m both at the same time, which is cool and all, but being a nightmare…” Suddenly, her smile dwindled. “A girl gotta let her demon out to play sometimes.”
Introducing the lovely
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Miss Agnès
France 1908
Innocent, fairylike Agnès Gunarsson finds herself as a fish out of water when she meets the ‘terrible twins’, Elle and Jacques, at Château de Dragancourt in Picardy.
Elle and Jacques de Dragancourt both fall head over heels for Agnès. They each vie for her affections, each attempting to outdo the other, trying to win her heart.
The Swedish orphan has no idea how to handle this sibling love triangle. Her tragic past has in no way prepared her for the bold world these aristocrats embody.
When Elle’s advances go too far, Agnès must decide what she wants for herself and her future. Will she stay at Chateau de Dragancourt with Elle and Jacques, or is it all becoming too much for her to handle?
A tender coming-of-age tale of darkness and light, love and misunderstanding.
Miss Agnès Excerpt
She lay motionless. Agnès panicked. Her knees became wobbly and weak. Had she killed her?
But she saw Elle move, then curl up in a ball. With eyes closed, she kept lying like that. A beautiful dark Siren, lost in herself.
Without knowing what to do next, Agnès picked up the key that had fallen on the ground, and grabbing her bag called Gåva to follow her along the corridor, tears stinging her eyes. Not seeing where she was going until she bumped into Jacques. He’d clearly awoken from the noise and was coming to see what was going on.
Agnès stammered incoherent words, sobbing loudly, but in the end Jacques could make out what had happened and soothing her tried to make her sit down, but there was no reasoning with the distraught girl anymore. It was as if Elle’s wildness had transported over to Agnès.
“I hate her, I hate her!” she kept repeating.
So in the end Jacques wrapped Agnès in one of his own jackets and with rattling teeth, carrying the shivering Gåva in her arms, drove her back to her father’s château in the T Ford, while the first rays of light glimpsed over the rolling hills.
THANKS FOR READING!
Dale Brocker moves to the Big Apple for a once in a lifetime job opportunity. Getting acclimated to a new city is never easy, but as he’s waiting on his train in the New York Subway, things take an exciting turn. The sultry voice of a woman catches his attention. The fact that her voice is raised in anger may have been part of the reason why. When he turns his head to see what all the fuss is about, his eyes take in a sight that almost floors him.
The woman’s beauty stuns him, and in that instant, she hijacks his heart, including everything below it.
His thoughts become flooded with images of the two of them together. All he can think about it how to get closer to her. But how does a soft-hearted Florida boy capture the heart of a natural born badass?
He’s about to find out.
Happy release day for Antares, the 2nd book in the Cross Knight Chronicles!
Years ago, humanity was forced into a Blood War with vampires and shifters. Humans were brought to near extinction. To ensure their survival, the humans who evaded the massacre erected barriers. Within those walls, they created a defense that combats the dark threat looming over the world called the Cross Knight Federation.
Alexis Moonlight kills vampires as a soldier in the Cross Knight Military. And she’s damn good at it! She knows her profession is necessary to protect human life, but she wants to feel alive again. The way she felt before hell’s rejects climbed up from their graves and forced mankind to hide behind walls.
Amid all the blood and war, a man she thought was dead drifts back into her life. Only, he’s not the same man she remembers.
Tristan Marino is no longer the gorgeous Italian guy who knew his way around her body. Her once sensuous lover and best friend is now a deadly vampire. To make matters worse, he had become a general in the White Dragon Legion—a military organization led by vampires.
The man she once loved is now her sworn enemy.
Tristan may have left droves of bodies in his wake pursuing Alexis, but what she doesn’t know is that the real threat resides in the organization she serves. His mission to expose the dark truth within the Federation depends on her help.
How can he convince her to join forces with him when she sees him as nothing more than a monster?
“No,” Alexis whimpered on a trembling gasp. “What have you done?”
Death permeated the air! The bodies of military soldiers littered the massive hall, some mutilated and others drained. Pools of blood flowed out over the marble flooring, matching the crimson splashes along the walls.
Tristan stood there, surrounded by the dead, his lips stained red. Specks of crimson dotted his face and shimmering silver hair. The scarlet glow from his eyes rested on her.
At his feet, the councilmember lay, no longer struggling to breathe. The little life he had left had been snatched away by the creature who stood above him.
Why did he bring me here? Why would he force me to witness this?
“Tristan…” She repeatedly muttered his name, hoping he would tell her to wake up. That this was all just a bad dream. “No, Tristan.” But he didn’t. Why would he, when he was the creator of this nightmare?
As he stood there, posing as the centerpiece of death, not one sign of remorse resided on his beautiful face. In fact, a spark of savage determination flashed in his demonic eyes.
The bloodshed wasn’t over, which meant more people would die by his hand.
A shudder of rage rushed down her spine. Her heart thundered rapidly, her breathing escalated. She clutched the sword in her grip, squeezing it so tight, the leather-wrapped hilt bit into her palm.
“Lexi.” He licked the blood from his lips. “I told you if you knew, you would hate me…”
If I could hate him, I wouldn’t be in this fucked up predicament.
“…That’s why I wanted you to stay in the room.”
No matter how much I love him, I have to stop him. I have to…
Leveling the blade, she scrambled back. She tried to gather her thoughts enough to speak, but the words wouldn’t come to her. Why? She knew he was a vampire. Hell, if he was like the other nightwalkers—mindless, blood-thirsty demons—she could deal with that. But no, he was so much worse than just a vampire. He was a calculated and level-headed, a cold-blooded killer.
He’s a monster!
The scarlet faded from his gaze, giving way to his hypnotic, greyish-blue irises. “You’re right, I AM a monster.” His voice filtered through her mind, increasing her panic. “Fortunately for you, I’m YOUR monster, so what I do next is entirely up to you.”
“Damn you, Tristan.” Tears burned her eyes as she crouched low in a battle stance, sword cocked for the kill.
His lips tilted in a smirk. “Do you find satisfaction in trying to damn a creature that’s already damned?” Unbridled power flowed off of him in smoky waves.
The difference in their strength was ever so clear. Tristan was stronger than her, in a league all of his own. She didn’t have to clash blades with him to know that. Surely the meal he got from the councilman, and anyone else he sucked dry, increased his vampy force. Still, she had to at least try to release him from this dark life.
Frowning, he shook his head. “Don’t do it.”
But I have to. He would slaughter more people if she didn’t.
A burst of fiery resolve stormed through her body, fueling her intent. With a leap forward, she sprinted toward him. Air rushed across her face as her feet barely touched the ground. Like before, when she was tussling with the cat-girl, she moved way faster than she should’ve been able to.
Unstirred, Tristan remained the centerpiece of the kill zone. Then suddenly, he disappeared.
A teaser from Simone for your reading pleasure…
A little over two months ago, she hijacked my heart. I’d only been in New York for a week. I was in the process acclimating to the metro transportation system when a loud female voice jolted me.
“Yo, what the fuck are you looking at?” she said, her raw tone laced with that New Yorker’s accent.
She garnered the attention of everyone on that car.
I looked up from my phone to find a stunning girl glaring at some dude standing across from her.
“I’m looking at you, mami,” he announced with a smarmy grin.
“I suggest you avert your eyes before I pluck them outta your fuckin’ head, hombre.”
He laughed, which sounded forced. “You ain’t much to look at anyway, uppity black puta.” Hanging on to the railing, he made his way to my end of the car. He may have had the last word, but the scowl on his face indicated that his ego had taken a hit.
After that, I found myself helplessly obsessed with her.
Simone typically sat on the same bench every day, and every day I moved a little closer to her. Took me two months to muster up the courage to sit right across from her. Wonder how long it would take to occupy the same bench as her. I watched her through the throng of bodies swaying with the motion of the car, like I did every morning. I tried many times, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I never could. I was blatantly staring again.
A shudder coasted across the walls of the vehicle, making it lurch.
That’s when she looked up. She glanced to the left then the right and forward, where our gazes clashed.
Oh God, oh God… Oh God! The furious knocking beneath my chest increased. A bout of heat spread throughout my entire body.
Please don’t curse me out. I can’t help but stare.
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There was something in his seductive eyes that said he wasn’t satisfied with her long drawn out, sappy reply. “I have a feeling you asked me about our relationship for a deeper reason.”
“Deeper…” A chesty chuckle rumbled from him. “Why haven’t you told Wes about us?”
Her next breath got caught in her throat. She stared into his bright eyes, unsure on what to say.
“Is it because he’s your lover too?”
Uneasiness swarmed her, chasing her bliss away. She pulled back from him and maneuvered to the edge of the bed.
Surprisingly, he let her move.
She drew the sheet around her body and gazed out the window. The beautiful city of Atlanta and its sparkling nightlights gazed back at her. “You knew?”
“I’ve known from the day we met.”
She’d lied to him. She told him that she and Wes were just really good friends, but apparently, her false words were only convincing to her own ears. “How?”
“The way you two gaze at each other when you think no one is watching…I only pretended to be oblivious to it because I didn’t want to disrespect what you two had, but the day we kissed, all of that changed. I would’ve said something earlier. Although, I didn’t think I was in a position to do so.” That would explain why he needed to know where they stood relationship-wise.
He fell silent, and so did she.
Hips swaying, she sashayed across the stage with her electric guitar, Venom, in tow. Her swarthy skin shimmered like dark diamonds under the spotlights. Strawberry blonde dreadlocks cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She swept a gaze over the eager crowd. The lights caught the spark in her haunting eyes, adding to her seductive allure.
A jeweled choker adorned her long neck. Fashioned from leather and lace, a crimson corset hugged her torso, and a short plaid skirt flared out over her bodacious hips. Completing her stage ensemble, skin-tight leather clung to her legs, and a pair of red, wedge-heeled sneakers sparkled on her feet.
This woman was a rock goddess haloed in lights. Wielding her mighty guitar, she ruled the stage and everyone beyond it.
Our mistress, Queen Sting.
Stirring with great anticipation, the crowd waited. Not one person shifted their attention from the stage.
A wicked smirk graced her face. Positioned at the microphone, she whirled Venom in front of her and teased the strings with her long, scarlet painted nails. Her glossy lips parted and her tongue slid out, revealing a sparkling guitar pick. She plucked it off her tongue and cooed in a husky timbre, “‘S’up, sexy bitches.”
A voluminous roar bounced off the club’s walls as the sea of people went into frenzy.
“Allow me to introduce my band of badasses!” With one hand wrapped around Venom’s neck, she ripped the pick across the taut strings. The electric guitar released a rebellious cry. It soared through the large speakers like a thunderous strike. “On bass is my Californian playboy… Chase.”
The bright eyed, floppy-haired kid to her left strummed the golden beauty hanging from his neck, drawing screams from the women in the audience.
“On keys, the sexiest man you’re ever gonna lay eyes on… Becca.”
With his lengthy hair draped over the sides of his face, the guy to her right flashed an enticing smile as he fingered the keys on his instrument. The crazed screams only grew louder.
“And on drums, my brotha from another motha… Slice! Hit it, baby!”
Surrounded by a shiny percussion set, the muscular man in the fedora whipped his stick from one drum to the other, delivering a brutal beating. A wild cadence resonated through the building.
“I’m MonaLisa and we are Scorpion Tail!” The band thundered into a hard-edged rhythm with their mistress leading the way. “Say your prayers, ‘cause we’re about to rock you ‘til death!” Her raspy voice surged into song, “It courses through your veins, my sweet, poisonous kiss… Take me again like that, fill me with your painful bliss… Let me thank you for your pretty lies and smiling deceit… I’ll remember you, only for the days of pain and nights of grief…”
Even though the lyrics she delivered were ominous in their nature, her voice was hypnotic. Spellbinding.
Struck in complete awe, Toshiro watched her strum her magnificent guitar, with her dreads swaying wildly about under the flashing lights.
Her gaze locked on him, a sultry smile followed. “Tell me you wanna die, baby, just for a taste… Give me your soul as you fall in my embrace…”
Can she see me through the blinding lights and sea of jerking bodies? The idea she could separate him from the mob was a fool’s fantasy, but the possibility sent an unrelenting shudder down his body. Even though the building was packed from wall to wall with people caught under her spell, he felt like he was the only one in the club.
She’s singing and playing just for me.
His bones vibrated with the heart-thumping pulse, his blood ran hot. The taste of her lips lingered in his memory. The thought of her poisonous kiss tightened his groin. He couldn’t rip his eyes away, no matter how hard he tried. From that moment on, he couldn’t deny it. He was enthralled, bound to her in body and spirit, and he would never be able to live without her.
MonaLisa…
After attaching my bipod, I slipped on my black leather gloves then took my post.
One-thirty p.m. Like clockwork, Deverati’s snowy Bugatti whipped around the corner and parallel parked across the street from Café Josephine.
“Alright Half-a-mil, let’s do this.” I watched the car through my scope, anxious for the moment my mark revealed himself.
The butterfly door on the driver side swung open, he stepped out and the world shifted into slow motion.
“Daaayum,” I breathed out.
The Italian leather shoes, tailored black slacks and tan trench coat fit him to perfection. A gust of wind breezed by and flared his coat’s tail, adding to the magnificence of his striking presence. A pair of dark Aviators hid his eyes. Sheer arrogance poured off of him in waves as he strutted across the street.
When he disappeared into Josephine’s Cafe, the world returned to its normal pace and I caught my breath.
Fuck the pictures! This man was gorgeous. Even his swagger was a thing of beauty.
Before returning to my sniper scope, I blinked twice. “Focus, Monroe,” I whispered as I mentally reminded myself of the mission.
Eliminate the target.
His superciliousness alone justified him as being more than worthy of a visit from my bullet. But, as I watched him walk across the street with his standard large latte in hand, something about him intrigued me, and it wasn’t just his looks.
Three men were huddled over a table in the far corner of the bar area, where they conversed, laughed and enjoyed their drinks. Like they’d just stepped off the stage of a Shakespearian play, they sported costumes that were stylishly dated for a Masquerade ball, capes and all. Neither one of them appeared to be in our age bracket. In fact, they looked like cougar bait. That made me feel old.
The one Allison had her eyes on, a smooth cocoa brother with a wavy fade, snapped his attention our way. The two men at his sides―one looked Latin and the other white―followed suit.
Uh-oh. I fidgeted uncomfortably under their steady gazes. Allison, on the other hand, flashed a megawatt smile, assumed a provocative stance and stuck her voluptuous chest out for their scrutiny.
“Looks like they’re going to a Masquerade too.” The words slid off Allison’s tongue like she’d just tasted something scrumptious. “One of every flavor. A yummy man swirl.”
Oh goodness, trouble!
Mischief played in Allison’s steely blue eyes. No doubt about it, I was about to be yanked into an awkward, uncomfortable situation. I started getting the jitters. The pounding beneath my chest grew faster at the sparkle in Allison’s leer and the developing interest from the beautiful young men across the way.
Desperate to get out of the building before Allison made her move, I inched closer to the exit. “Let’s go ahead and get our cab, Ally. Running late, remember?”
Her white gloved hand caught me by the wrist. “Trying to run off on me, honey.”
“I’m trying to go hail a cab. You cussed me out for making us late and now you wanna set us back further?”
“They are worth the set back.” Her eyes glued on the handsome gents, she murmured, “Besides, the party doesn’t jump off until we arrive anyway.”
“No girl, I see what you’re ‘bout to do, and I’m not comfortable with it.” I tried to sound stern and serious, but the alcohol sailing through my system made my voice waver and slur. Dang, I’m a lightweight.
“Uh-huh, right, let’s go see if they’re going to the same ball.”
“Please don’t do this,” I begged as I was pulled across the cream tiles to the bar area. “Allison, don’t…”
The closer we got to the threesome, the hotter they became. By the time we stepped onto the carpeted area, I wasn’t resisting anymore. What’s the use anyway? Allison was going to drag me into the mix one way or another.
Superstar, Ripp Collins had the crowd spellbound, enthralled by his beauty and raspy, haunting voice as he belted out a verse. “When you look at me, tease my desire with a mere gaze, it shreds the edges of my soul…”
The indie rock band Devil’s Avenue was under the spotlight tonight, and they had the club packed to capacity.
The pulse of the bass drum and the cry of the electric guitar whipped through the building like a harsh, metallic rock n’ roll storm. The music’s roar mingled with the fans’ zealous screams. Multicolored lights flashed over the performers, adding to the dark and mysterious ambiance they created.
But Ripp… He glistened under the fluorescent beams, like a divine being. Flicking his fingers across the guitar strings, he rocked his hips to the beat, threw his head back, and let out one of his gritty primal cries.
The crowd went wild.
An unwanted smile dared to cross my face. I sat rooted to the barstool at the back of the club, refusing to let his bad boy allure draw me under his spell, like everyone else. But damn, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, which meant, I was already enchanted. Now that I think about it, I’ve been spellbound for quite some time now.
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