When the latest string of murders,
sweeping New York City, lands on Detective Fitzgerald S. Rodriguez’s desk, the
signature evidence hits too close to home. Being unable to stop the murder of
his own mother has made Fitz a jaded man. Now he will stop at nothing to
protect the one he loves.
Serial killer, Mark Chambers, is like a
cat that preys on unsuspecting mice for sport. When a fresh kill no longer quenches
his sexual appetite, he sets his sights on Makenna Justice. The fiery-redhead,
with her emerald green eyes, ignites a fire in him that he hasn’t had since his
first kill.
Time is of the essence for all three of them.
Mark must feed into his desires once more without leaving a
trail.
Fitz has to dig himself deep into a killer’s mind to catch
him.
He’s a walking contradiction...
Cam Strickland, one of the four owners of Pier 70 Marina, has earned the nickname his friends gave him years ago. Reckless. Sure. By definition. When it comes to fun, Cam hasn’t yet met a challenge he wouldn’t accept. In other areas, he’s likely far too cautious for his own good.
He’s his complete opposite...
Gannon Burgess, CEO of Burgess Entertainment, one of the top video game producers in the world, finds himself smack in the middle of the last place he would ever expect to be. But Gannon only thinks he is out of his element standing in the small marina office. Then... he meets Cam.
Rumor is opposites attract.
Sparks fly when this sexy, tattooed bad boy comes face to face with this buttoned-up gamer in glasses.
Can Cam and Gannon push one another out of their comfort zones? Or -- thanks to the events that have shaped their lives -- will the time they spend together prove to be just another reckless adventure? This one involving their hearts.
New York Times bestselling author Nicole Edwards launched her professional writing career in July of 2012. Having been an avid reader all of her life and a huge fan of creative writing, it seemed the likely path for her to take. Since then, she has released fifteen books and has no plans to stop. As her full-time career/hobby, Nicole writes steamy contemporary and erotic romances.
Nicole is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who was born and raised in Texas. Married with three kids and four dogs, she has plenty of interaction to keep her imagination brewing. Her books have been featured in USA Today’s Happy Ever After segment as well as Indie Reader’s best seller list. She has forged her way as an independent author.
Although she has a bachelor’s degree in Human Resources, she prefers to be hiding out in her writing cave, talking to the fictional characters that have built up in her head over the years.
When she isn’t writing or plotting her next book (sometimes translated to “playing on Facebook”), Nicole loves to read and spend time with her family and her dogs.
Everything in Melodi White’s life is finally perfect. She has an amazing man by her side, she’s made lifelong friends and she’s starting to live the life she and her twin sister Abby dreamed of. But things don’t stay perfect for long.
Melodi lives constantly haunted by the past of her sister Abbi and her ex-boyfriend Jacob. Can Melodi and Corban move forward with their relationship when someone she never expected to see again returns, and throws them on to an emotional rollercoaster?
With so much turmoil surrounding them, will their love be strong enough to endure when disaster strikes and Melodi is put in harms way? Will she survive or will Melodi become the missing one?
Liz is from bright, sunny, Queensland in Australia. She is a mother of three little monsters, a wife to an amazing husband and an avid reader. Liz always loved books from a very young age, and just keeps falling in love with new authors every week. In high school her passion grew when she was given Tomorrow When The War Began by John Marsden for an assignment, from that she continued to find new gems. Liz always has a book and notebook beside her bed for when inspiration hits at those crazy hours. She is a stationery and chocolate addict and has a one-click addition.
Liz has heaps of new book ideas for the future and looks forward to sharing those ideas with you, her readers.
“Lily Anderson, you get your ugly ass out here right this minute. Don’t make me come after you,” Daddy screams.
He’s so angry. I knew the moment I heard him come home from work I was in for it. I was in my bedroom, lying on the floor trying to do my math. He slammed the front door so hard the windows in my room shook.
And then I knew, I knew I was in for it.
“Lily Anderson!” he yells again.
As soon as I heard him yell I ran to my hiding spot. I’m inside the closet in the hallway, wedged as far into the corner as I can get. Mom’s old coat hangs in front of me and I can still smell a faint waft of the perfume she used to wear.
“Lily Anderson!” he shouts. I can hear the anger in his voice and I can already feel the pain he’s going to inflict on me when he opens the closet door. I know what’s coming.
I close my eyes tight, scrunching them up so no light can seep through. I put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear him.
“I swear to God; if I have to find you, you will not sit for a month.”
My knees are folded into my chest. I’m trying to make myself small, invisible, so he forgets I’m here. I’m rocking myself, trying to block out what he’s saying.
School is safe. School is safe. School is safe. I keep repeating the mantra because in a few short hours I’ll be back at school. Maybe tomorrow I can go to the library after school, stay there until it closes and then sneak in after Dad’s passed out, because he’s had too much to drink.
It was never like this before. Ever.
I’m twelve years old and I can remember when Mom, Dad, and I were all happy. But that was years ago. It’s been a long time since there’s been any happiness in this house.
Well, before Mom died anyway, and not a day since.
Mom died when I was nine. I don’t remember much about her, except I remember her telling me how ugly I am. How life would be better if I was taken away from them. How I’ll never be anything, because I’m stupid and ugly.
Sometimes I dream happy things. Like me, Mom, Dad and a little blond-haired boy all going for a picnic. The sun beamed down on us as we played outside and laughed. We’d eat yummy sandwiches Mom made for us, and we’d drink homemade lemonade. We’d spend hours outside, laughing and talking and just having fun. Mom would tell me how pretty I am, and how much she loved me. She would play with my hair, braid it, and then we’d go and pick bright flowers to take home and put in a vase. Dad would smile and call us “his girls”, always kissing Mom and hugging me. Dad would put the little boy on his shoulders and run around the park, trying to catch the clouds.
I love those dreams, and I hold onto them; wishing they were real. But I’ve never had a mom like that, and my dad doesn’t talk much unless it’s with his fists, or to tell me how ugly and useless I am.
I feel him walking around the house. The floorboards creak and the vibrations from his footsteps come through the floor to where my bottom is. I close my eyes tighter and try and breathe as quietly as I can.
Please go away, Daddy. Please go away.
My heart is beating so fast. My hands are shaking and I’m trying really hard not to think about what’s going to happen the minute he opens the closet door.
Shhh, it’s so quiet. The only sound is my heart thrumming in my ears. Nothing else. Not a whisper, not a rattle…nothing.
Maybe Daddy’s left. Maybe he’s gone to the pub to have a few drinks. Maybe, just maybe, he’s left...forever.
I take a deep breath and just relax for a moment. My shoulders drop and I finally stop rocking.
Slowly I take my hands down from my ears, and I’m so happy because I can’t hear him yelling at me. I can’t hear him at all.
Gradually, I begin to unscrunch my eyes from the way I’ve tightly closed them. But something’s not right. There’s light coming into the closet.
I don’t even get a chance to open them fully before a rough hand reaches in, latches onto my ponytail and yanks.
“I told you it’d be worse for you if I had to find you,” Dad says, as he drags me out of the closet by my hair.
I’m desperately trying to hold onto my head so he doesn’t rip my hair out. My feet are trying to find traction on the dirty floorboards.
“Please, Daddy. Please. You’re hurting me,” I begin sobbing as I plead with him.
“Then your ugly ass should’ve come when I called you, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking worthless, you ugly idiot,” he says. But now his voice is calm as he continues to drag me toward the family room.
That’s when he’s most scary. When his voice is low and his eyes are filled with hate.
He throws me against the side of the sofa and takes a step back to look at me.
I look up and can see he’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. “You dumb, ugly piece of shit,” he says, as he paces back and forth in front of me.
“Sorry, Daddy. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” I cower into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.
“You’re just too fucking stupid, aren’t you?” he spits toward me as he brings his hand up to scratch at his chin.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. Tears are falling hot and fast down my cheeks. My head hurts from where he was pulling my hair, but I don’t dare try to rub the spot.
“You ugly fuck.” He kicks a boot into my leg.
The pain is instant and my leg feels like it’s shattered. “Please, Daddy,” I beg again, burying my face into my hands.
But ‘please’ never seems to work.
Nothing does.
I’ve just got to take the beatings, because that’s what stupid, ugly girls do.
Author Bio
There's something about the written word that is pure magic.
Possibly it's the fact there are 26 letters in the English alphabet, and they can create something so beautiful or so empowering they're capable to change our lives.
How important is it that we break suit and stretch our minds?
I like to think of myself as 'unique'. My stories aren't for everyone, and sometimes I may push what you believe to be 'normal'.
Normal is subjective.
I prefer to be known as a person who's never been 'bound by custom' but is 'unique by choice'.
This has been my motto. A motto that was drilled into my head at a young age. It’s who I am. Who I’m expected to be. All of that changes when he walks into my life.
I can’t lie.
I can’t hide.
I can’t deceive.
As my personal security guard, he sees through me and makes me second guess everything. I can’t escape him or the way he makes me feel. He makes me smile. He makes me want more from life.
Can I sacrifice those who depend on me for my own happiness?
I’m Elizabeth Fitzgerald.
I’m a Senator’s wife.
And I hate my life.
Keep it professional.
I had one job to do, and falling for Elizabeth Fitzgerald was not it. Being former Special Forces, I’m no stranger to fighting, but this is different. This is personal. The stakes feel much higher and the struggle to save her will be my most challenging mission yet.
But I have a secret. A secret that threatens to tear apart everything we’ve built.
You know me as Alex Matthews.
My mistake was getting involved with her, knowing what was on the line.
Their mistake was taking me away from her.
“Hidden in Lies by Rachael Duncan was simply wonderful. It’s a story that shows that picture perfect outside isn’t always picture perfect inside.” ~ Give Me Books
“I really enjoyed this book. It was sweet, sexy, steamy, suspenseful, and had quite a few twists and turns along the way. This book was really good and just as the getting was getting good... BAM, the book ended making me want so much more.” ~ Renee Entress’ Book Blog - Hidden In Lies
“Great action packed story full of suspense. Questions we had from book one are answered in this part of the story. Gotta admit I preferred this book than book one. Loved it.” ~ 2 Friends Pimp Your Books - Uncovered by Truth
“Overall I really enjoyed this closure of their story. I also enjoyed the danger and suspense that seemed more prominent in this book. It made it a page turner for sure. I didn't want to put it down, I was totally engrossed in this story and was well satisfied with the ending.” ~ Nerdy, Dirty & Flirty - Uncovered by Truth
“That’s right, baby. You take that cock, you dirty little whore.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes down as he thrusts up. My gag reflexes kick in as he hits the back of my throat with each push. My jaw tightens trying to reject the intrusion. “Don’t you ever deny me again, you understand? Fucking whores like you love the cock,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues to punish my mouth over and over. I’m trying to pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, but he won’t let up. A slew of curse words, rants, and names are thrown out at me.
Bitch. Suck it harder. Fuck. Deeper. Slut.
He makes sure to take every ounce of his pleasure from me. Squeezing my eyes shut, unshed tears spill over and run down my cheeks. In this moment, I feel something I haven’t felt before, and it’s all-consuming.
Hate.
I’ve never been in love with him, but tonight I fucking hate Cal.
“Open your eyes now,” he barks out at me. I comply and don’t try to hide the rage burning within them. I stare into his eyes as he slams into my mouth over and over again. The sad thing is I think my anger and apparent resentment turns him on. Within a handful of seconds I feel him tensing. “You’re going to swallow every last drop. Just like a good little slut.” I do as I’m told as fast as I can, not wanting his taste to linger on my tongue any longer than it has to. He pats the top of my head like a fucking dog and says, “Good job, babe,” and then walks off toward the bathroom.
I crawl over to my side of the bed and collapse into my pillow. After a few moments, I notice the pillow feels wet. That’s when I notice that an endless stream of tears has been falling from my eyes. Never in my life have I felt so cheap, used, broken …
Violated.
Rachael Duncan is an Army wife living in North Carolina with her husband and two kids. She grew up in Nashville, Tennessee and went on to graduate from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville with a bachelor’s degree in political science. After working on Capitol Hill for a short time, she realized that a career in politics just wasn’t for her. A couple years later, she rediscovered her love for reading and writing. She’s the author of Tackled by Love as well.
