Resultados de "Anne Malcom" en Todas las categorias

Magnolia Grace is a horror writer, despite what the name might suggest. One of the best in the business, if you ask around. Pressure comes with that title. Expectation for the next nightmare. The next bestseller. Sickness. That's what it is. She can't be healthy. Because that means she won't write. And she hasn't been writing.

Calliope Derrick is in trouble. Not that she'll admit it. She'd sooner go to her grave than ask for help—especially from a man. Wall Street's wolf in heels, Calliope built an empire, shattered egos, and earned a reputation as the woman who made grown men cry in their private jets. But after a betrayal that threatens everything she's worked for, she trades skyscrapers for lighthouses and flees to Jupiter, Maine. She tells her family it's just a break. A vacation. A reset. She's lying. She's here to plot revenge. Not to fall in love.

Evil doesn't exist. Neither does "good". Vampires do, though. I just happen to be one. I've cruised through the centuries managing to avoid all the wars, supernatural and human, but still going to all the best parties. I would say I avoided bloodshed, but it's kind of part of the whole "vampire" thing. I've lived on the fringes of a society that considered cruelty and sadism favorable character traits for almost 500 years. Now, I'm in the middle of a war that might just put my non-beating heart in a lot of danger.

Souls are interesting things. Not something you can prove you possess. Not something that can be measured, like a heartbeat. But something that can be destroyed by the absence of a heartbeat. No, you cannot prove you possess a soul. But once that soul dies, there doesn't need to be proof that you don't have one. Once that blackened pit opens inside you, the world can see it. The world cowers from it.

Gwen Alexandra does not need a man in her life. Especially not a man who looks like Chris Hemsworth and Joe Manganiello's love child. One wearing leather, riding a Harley, and covered in tattoos. Gwen can bet every pair of her Manolos that Cade Fletcher is trouble. From the moment she meets him, the attraction sizzles between them. Gwen has a problem when it comes to attractive men in motorcycle clubs. The last one she got involved with almost killed her.

Should I tell you a story? Not a fairytale, mind you. There's not a princess to be seen. Nor a prince. Not even a hero. This is about the stripper and the outlaw. Our story begins with the Sons of Templar MC, with a man even the outlaws fear. He was trouble. More than trouble. A scoundrel. A sinner. A villain. To everyone but me. Our story begins with blood, violence, and pain. I have a feeling it will end that way too. But it's too late for escape. I've fallen for the scoundrel. The sinner. The outlaw.

I'm not a worldly woman. I'm not cultured, well-traveled, or well educated. I'm just a housewife. A mother. I'm the woman with the handsome husband, beautiful daughter, the large house. If you saw it from the outside, you'd probably think I have the perfect life. You would most definitely be wrong. But I don't blame you. We all see what we want to see, turning a blind eye to what others want to stay hidden. Especially when it comes to love. They say love is blind. But I'm more apt to say it's wretched. Love is what made me stay. But love is also what saved me.

My life was never black and white. Heck, it wasn't even black, white and gray. Lines were not drawn between good and evil, and if they were, I would have jumped those suckers for fun. But now it was simpler. It wasn't black and white. Or gray. It was only one thing. Blood. A crimson-tinted world. That was all I needed. All I wanted. Him.

I don't know what it's like to feel. To hurt. The ability was stolen from me in my youth. I consider that theft a gift. Feelings got in the way when you were building an empire. Amassing power. I had the empire. I had the power. One moment in an alley changed everything. What took more than a decade to amass was snatched away in a second. He killed for me. But he didn't save me.

The Sons of Templar MC. I'm sure you've heard of them. They're infamous. Murderers. Criminals. Outlaws. But to me, they're family. My husband wore the cut for well over a decade. For almost as long as he wore a wedding ring. Our marriage survived wars. Deaths. Blood. The cuts were deep. And they never healed quite right. But we survived. Until we didn't. He promised me forever. And he gave it to me. His version of it, at least. Mine was longer, though. Much longer.

Marrying Kip Goodman was a last resort. But she was desperate. Desperate enough to marry a man she despised. All she had to do was get through the year married to a cocky alpha male who only thought of women as notches on his bedpost.

Nora Henderson is of the opinion that chocolate cures almost everything. Which, among a few other reasons, is why she opened her bakery in the small town of Jupiter, Maine five years ago. Nora's life is good. On the surface, at least. Underneath the frosting and the sweet décor of her bakery is a broken engagement, doubt, and anxiety spirals.