Ciarah O’Rourke was born into torture. A human spirit reincarnated in the body of an ancient fae goddess, she’s spent the last five years in iron shackles, her mind poisoned with magic for secrets she doesn’t know. Waking up in a dirty alley with no memory of her escape, Ciarah finds herself in the hands
I don’t have a name, just a number. 1. A single slash across a keyboard. 1. That’s the number of people I know that are worth dying for. 1. The total number of women I’ve ever loved. 1. The number of weeks I have left to save her.
February 19th –We Like
He died that night, alone, in the rain, in the dark, the boy that called me baby girl. I was only seventeen; we were going to be together forever. On his way to pick me up for prom, he swerved. I’ll never know what made him do it, what killed the boy I’d loved my
Four hunky, supernatural plumbers. One reluctant, slightly drunk human. A match made in heaven…or in the bathroom, rather. My name is Arizona Smoke, and I’m the proud owner of a house haunted by my dead Gram, best friend to a cocktail dress loving werewolf, and apparent soul mate to four plumbers who also happen to
Three gloriously wicked mafia bosses. They play with the dark strings of my heart, lure me into temptation. As the daughter of crime kingpin, Carlo Costello, I have responsibilities. First, ferret out the traitors. Next, bring four legendary New York City families together. I feel like a pawn on the board, a piece lost in
Four hunky, supernatural plumbers. One reluctant, slightly drunk human. A match made in heaven…or in the bathroom, rather. My name is Arizona Smoke, and I’m the proud owner of a house haunted by my dead Gram, best friend to a cocktail dress loving werewolf, and apparent soul mate to four plumbers who also happen to
“Can one of these five rockstars fill the hole in my heart? Or will I stay broken forever?” Young, dumb, and broke. That’s what started everything. With five dollars in her pocket, and everything she owns stuffed in the back of her car, Lilith Goode’s life is over. Done. Destroyed. Ten words. One text. That’s
“He’s a bad boy … and a nanny.” Holy sweet baby Jesus. I don’t know anything about taking care of kids. I pierce nipples, navels, and noses for a living. I’ve never even held a baby before. Not once. Never changed a diaper or cleaned up a skinned knee. Hell, I don’t even want kids.
“He’s a bad boy … and a nanny.” Holy sweet baby Jesus. I don’t know anything about taking care of kids. I pierce nipples, navels, and noses for a living. I’ve never even held a baby before. Not once. Never changed a diaper or cleaned up a skinned knee. Hell, I don’t even want kids.
