I don’t take women to bed.
I take them against the wall, hard and fast, and when I come I make sure they remember.
They always do.
I’m cocky as hell, but sh*t, I’ve got reason to be. I own Spades Royalle, the sexiest casino in Vegas. F*ck, the sexiest casino in the country.
I’m gonna keep building my empire all on my own – my ties with the mafia are in my past, buried with the bones of my family.
Toby Turner didn’t expect to stumble upon the remains of a human skeleton, washed down from the cliff top by a recent landslip.
He runs a small bookshop in the quiet seaside town of Lyme Regis in Dorset. His life’s not quite on track; his bookshop’s not doing too well, for one thing, and he’s not sure his relationship with his girlfriend-cum-fiancé Trisha is going anywhere either – at least, nowhere she would like it to go.
Toby takes a walk along the Blue Lias cliffs on Monmouth Beach to think things through, and here he finds the body of a woman; a woman, it transpires, who was murdered in 1978.
While on a book tour in Cambodia, author James Moore unwittingly seeks refuge in a brothel to escape a devastating flash flood. He and his translator witness the atrocities of girls forced into prostitution, including a young child with a special gift.
Together, they fight to not only save the girls from the rising flood waters, but from the menacing brothel owner and his men.
What’s the danger in one hot kiss?
When Claire Layton discovers a dead body in a Dumpster behind her restaurant, the killer demands she find the victim’s phone and flash drive or face fatal consequences. Her unlikely ally in the search is a cocky, muscle-bound private investigator Jake Warrick, who ticks her off almost as much as he turns her on…
Jake just wants to solve the case, but the impulsive and fiery Claire turns his plan upside down. Together they uncover a more complex crime than they’d ever imagined while things between them go from hot to downright combustible…
Skye Emery believes in true love.
A romantic idealist, she believes wholeheartedly that everyone will get their happy ending. Everyone except her.
After drowning in the devastation left behind by a cheating father, keeping men at arms length and finding solace in a dirty book and a pint of ice cream is a safer option.
Enter Ben Mackinnon. The sexy reformed manwhore with a complicated past of his own, he overwhelms her with his perfect mix of sweet sincerity and dirty talking dominance.
Gibson has been adjusting to his new job as a Wrecker – part cop, part garbage man, dealing with malfunctioning automatons. But he is beginning to suspect that there is more to these malfunctions than meets the eye.
How is it that some of the malfunctioning automatons seem able to spontaneously learn new skills?
Why did Red Eye, the automaton that nearly killed him, ask such searching, existential questions?
As Gibson and his Wrecker allies ponder a growing surge in cases of automaton ‘outliers’ – units that begin acting strangely but show no signs of malfunction or external tampering – they stumble across a criminal conspiracy that threatens to change the world as they know it.
Interior Decorator Madison Night might look like a throwback to the sixties, but as business owner and landlord, she proves that independent women can have it all. But when a killer targets women dressed in her signature style—estate sale vintage to play up her resemblance to fave actress Doris Day—what makes her unique might make her dead.
The local detective connects the new crime to a twenty-year-old cold case, and Madison’s long-trusted contractor emerges as the leading suspect. As the body count piles up, Madison uncovers a Soviet spy, a campaign to destroy all Doris Day movies, and six minutes of film that will change her life forever.
As raging floodwaters engulf her Louisiana hometown Nola Landry is stranded on high ground, the unwitting witness to the brutal murder of three fellow survivors. Finally rescued in the aftermath of the storm, no one is willing to believe a story as horrific as hers—until three FBI agents arrive on the scene…one of whom Nola knows very well.
Tate Benton has been tracking the so-called Stormchaser serial killer for months, never expecting the trail might lead him home, or to the woman he cannot forget. Home is now a ravaged town full of memories—of love, of disappointment, of past mistakes.
72 hours. That’s what the note said. 72 hours and the girl would be dead. Jaxon held the paper in one hand and the severed finger in the other. It was not a hoax. A day with his new hobby had turned into something he hadn’t seen coming.
GeoCaching—a modern scavenger hunt—was now a race against time. A woman he had never met was praying he wouldn’t fail.
72 hours. Three days. A life hanging in the balance and the clock ticking. The killer’s game deadly. Jaxon Jennings, retired cop and private eye, knew the girl had only one chance…
Any successful scholar will make personal sacrifices to enhance his research. But most are never expected to include a suspect marriage to a barefoot hill girl. Musicologist, J. Monroe Farley hopes to prove that the wilds of the Ozark Mountains preserved the language and music of an era gone by. Hill Girl, Meggie Best only hopes for a handsome prince to make her dreams come true. Neither expects to have life suddenly upended by a jar of bad piccalilli and a skunk.
This story set in the Ozarks of 1903 recalls mountain ways and wiles as unique as the music the traveling scholar seeks.
John Mikali is known throughout the world as a brilliant concert pianist and playboy. But his true vocation is far more interesting and lucrative: He is a peerless international assassin. His music and fame give him entrée to complete his assignments all over the world without fail. He believes himself truly untouchable—until he makes one fatal mistake.
Col. Asa Morgan is a military man to the bone. A veteran of wars both declared and undeclared, he’s one of the most respected and lethal members of the British SAS, and utterly devoted to his country. But when his daughter is run down and killed by an unknown assassin making his escape, his sworn duty no longer matters.
Mary B. Addison killed a baby.
Allegedly. She didn’t say much in that first interview with detectives, and the media filled in the only blanks that mattered: a white baby had died while under the care of a churchgoing black woman and her nine-year-old daughter. The public convicted Mary and the jury made it official. But did she do it?
There wasn’t a point to setting the record straight before, but now she’s got Ted—and their unborn child—to think about.