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A swoony, small town romance from USA Today Bestselling Author J.H. Croix!
When the grumpy firefighter falls for the sunshine girl who turns his world upside down…
Elsa Whitney walks into my life like she owns the sun, all warmth and light, and shatters the quiet I’ve been clinging to. Not that I can blame her. She’s impossible to ignore. And somehow, I’m the idiot who offered her a place to stay.
Brilliant move.
I’ve got enough on my plate—raising my son, rebuilding my family’s resort, and trying to keep the pieces of my family together. The last thing I need is a distraction, especially one as tempting as Elsa.
Too bad my family is already smitten. Worse? They swear I’m less of a grouch with her around.
They’re not wrong.
Because the truth is, I don’t just want her in my house—I want her in my life, in my bed, in every moment I can steal. And once I finally give in? There’s no turning back.
If you love a grumpy firefighter who sets hearts ablaze and a heroine who makes him burn for more, this story is for you.
USA Today Bestselling Author J. H. Croix lives in a small town in Maine with her husband and two spoiled dogs. She writes swoony contemporary romance with sassy women and alpha men who aren't afraid to show some emotion. Her love for quirky small-towns and the characters that inhabit them shines through in her writing. When she’s not writing, you can find her cooking, counting the turtles in her backyard pond, and running with her dogs, which is when her best plotting happens.
Book one (well titled) in a trilogy and I am ready for this story to continue.
In order to bring down the enemy, he must hit him where it hurts. And this anti-hero does just that when he captures the wife. But, she isn't some simpering damsel in distress. This MFC knows how to stand her ground and doesn't just go with the flow.
This action-packed beginning is filled with emotion, heat, and enough suspense to keep you flipping the pages.
With this being the first in a trilogy, it does end on a cliffhanger. With that said, this book flows at a wonderful pace, is well-written, with great character development and sets the stage (and craving) for the next book.
I would definitely recommend for fans of dark romance, suspense, and emotional romance stories.
This is the first book in a trilogy about vengeance, obsession, and unexpected desire. It follows a ruthless anti-hero determined to bring down his enemy by kidnapping the one thing he holds most dear—his wife. But Ariana Kane isn’t the helpless victim he expected. She’s sharp, secretive, and just as dangerous as the man who took her.
This is a fast-paced, intense read that pulls you in quickly and doesn’t let go. The chemistry between the characters crackles from the start, and the emotional push-and-pull makes for a highly addictive story. While the book definitely leans into the darker side of romance—with morally gray characters and a revenge-driven plot—it never loses its emotional core.
One thing to note: this does end on a cliffhanger, so be prepared to want to dive into the next installment right away. Still, the pacing is tight, and the writing is compelling enough to make it a quick and satisfying read overall.
Recommended for fans of dark romance, morally gray anti-heroes, and high-stakes emotional drama.
T.K. Leigh is the USA Today Bestselling author of romance ranging from fun and flirty to sexy and suspenseful. Originally from New England, she now resides outside of Raleigh with her husband, beautiful daughter, special needs rescue dog, and three cats. When she’s not writing, she can be found training for her next marathon (of which she has run over twenty fulls and far too many halfs to recall) or chasing her daughter around the house.
From USA
Today best selling author, Scarlett Cole, writing as S. Cole, comes
a forced proximity, grumpy versus guarded, electrifying small town MC
romance.
Greer
The
night I quit as a surgeon, a dying man told me a secret I wasn’t supposed to
hear.
Now
someone wants me quiet—and a biker bleeding out in the parking lot might be my
only escape.
I
didn't plan to take him home and remove his bullets on my dining table.
Yet,
for seven days, he’s the calm in my chaos.
We
break rules. Cross lines.
Then
he’s gone.
But
five weeks later, I find him at the clubhouse—and hand him a note with two
words that change everything.
Butcher
I
should’ve bled out.
Instead,
I ended up in the care of a woman with haunted eyes and hands that didn’t
shake—even when mine did.
But
Dr. Greer Hansen is too soft for a man like me. Too bright. Too good.
So
I leave while she sleeps.
Yet
five weeks later, she finds me with news that hits harder than any bullet ever
could.
And
the only way to keep her breathing… is to drag her into my world.
Even
if she hates me for it.
Even
if it costs me the club.
She
walked into my world by accident, and now I'll rip it apart to keep what's mine
safe.
“Can you turn that down a
bit?” Greer asks. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Sorry, Doc.”
“You know,” she says,
pushing her chair away from the table and walking towards me, “films like this
are part of the problem.”
I glance up at her. “And
what problem is that, Greer?”
“Eighty percent of violent
crime is committed by men. And there’s a whole”—she gestures in a circle with
her hands—“infrastructural, societal, patriarchal…whatever the right word
is…mess that causes it.”
I roll my eyes. “Doc, I’m
not drunk enough or high enough for that kind of conversation.”
“Doesn’t make it less true
though.” She reaches for the tape holding down the gauze over my abdomen wound
and lifts one corner to peer beneath it. “It’s healing well.” The words are
muttered. Like they aren’t for me but for her. “Women have been cleaning up
men’s trail of destruction since time began.”
I bite down on the grin
that’s threatening. “Since time began, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean, let’s take
white women in the middle ages. They were only ever involved in war because of
their husband’s alliances. And after battle, they’d be sent out to steal
anything of value from dead or fallen soldiers. They had to nurse the wounded,
but not be the doctor, because god forbid a woman gets educated. With the
exception of a rare few like Joan of Arc and Margaret of Anjou and Aoife
MacMurrough, that’s all they could do. And there are even more examples around
the world. Like Fu Hao, a Chinese Empress, and Ahhotep, Queen of Egypt”
“But violence is a
man’s game. If someone broke into your house now, I would expect to fight off
whoever it is, and I’d expect you to hide.”
Greer laughs at that. “For
the record, if someone broke into this house right now, I would not go and
hide. That’s what women do in movies, and then they end up being dragged from
beneath the bed by one foot and then kidnapped or worse. I’d find a weapon.
Your gun. A knife from the kitchen. Whatever. And I’d fight. And, also for the
record, I would be able to do everything so much better and faster than you.
I’d beat you to your gun right now.”
I like how feisty she gets.
Pink flushes her cheeks, and outrage sparks in her eyes. Bet it would be fun to
tame a woman like that. “So, you’re more of a Joan of Arc and whoever those
other broads were?”
“Broads?” Greer’s mouth
drops open for a moment. “Broads?”
I simply grin.
“Margaret of Anjou, Queen of
England, was known as the she-wolf queen. She helped end the Hundred-Year War
and led the Lancastrians into the famed Battle of Tewkesbury. She dared to rule
at a time when it wasn’t seemly for the queen to be anything other than the
consort of the king. And Aoife, also known as Red Eva…she led her troops into
battle in a Norman society that was not ready for the Celtic warrior. They were
not broads. They were incredible women who refused to conform to
the misogyny and patriarchy of their time and place.”
When she’s done, her chest
heaves like she just ran a sprint. She’s not a particularly curvy woman, but I
still find myself transfixed by the rapid rise of her small yet round breasts.
“Hate to point out the
obvious, but they were each just one woman on the battlefield. I’m guessing
their armies were wholly male.”
“I wasn’t there, so I
wouldn’t know.”
Her answer makes me laugh.
“Jesus, Greer. Sure. None of us were there. For all we know, none of our
historical records are true. But if you had to make a hypothesis, you’d agree
they were likely all men.”
She shrugs. “Fine. Probably.
They all were. But they relied on their leader for training, payment, food, and
advanced military tactics and precision. And they—”
“Fine. I get it. They
provided.”
Greer lets out a sound akin
to a growl. “No. Listen, if we were talking some famed male knight leading
troops, you’d be game to discuss their strategic might, their fearlessness, how
brave they were. But a woman leader, you’re like, oh, think about all the men
who fought.”
“You’re a feisty little
thing when you get going.”
“And you’re an asshole.” She
glares at me for a second. “Actually, I don’t know you well enough to declare
you an asshole just yet. But this conversation is putting you well on the
path.”
I start to laugh but have to
throttle it and hold a cushion across my abdomen as I do. “Only you could make
an apology become a non-apology so quickly.”
“I wasn’t apologizing. I’m
sorry if I made you think I was. Oh, and that was an apology.”
I chuckle again, and she
smirks, a self-satisfied expression that says she somehow just won our
conversation. “I like you, Greer. You’re a good sparring partner. A little on
the wrong side of the rules, but not enough that you aren’t liked by those who
are rule abiding. You make brave calls without thinking of yourself first. I
was worried when Smoke dumped me in your car. Wasn’t sure what I was getting
myself into. But I like you. Think my club would too.”
Scarlett
Cole is a contemporary romance author that calls both Toronto, Canada and
Manchester, England home. A born city dweller, she periodically quashes the
urge to live in the country by hiking up a mountain to remind herself that
living away from people would terrify the pants off her.
She
believes everybody deserves their love story to be told and loves her heroes on
the rough and rugged side…and usually tall (because she married one of those
6ft 6” men you read about in romance books!). She’s an A-type personality and
Scorpio star sign, so good luck getting her to do anything she doesn’t want
to.
When she
isn’t writing, she’s happy to talk about hot men and expensive shoes while
drinking a cold gin and tonic. Don’t bring up olives. As far as Scarlett is
concerned, they are the devil’s food. As long as you don’t bring up olives,
she’s happy to hear from you any time.
She is represented by Louise Fury at The Fury Agency.
Luck and love await the D’Vaire family at the newest dragon resort.
In these five previously unpublished short stories, the D’Vaires are invited to the newest dragon resort, the Deck of Cards.
King of Clubs: The King of Clubs restaurant boasts a menu ranging from flavorful steak to exotic fruits. Grab a seat at a table and dine with many of the beloved couples from the D’Vaire series.
Diamond and Dollars: The heart of this Vegas resort is the casino, and the D’Vaires are ready to discover if the odds favor them. Past the slots and tables is a vast shopping area, and the stores have plenty to tempt even the most discerning customer.
Goddesses Wild: The goddesses are keeping an eye on their treasured D’Vaires from the realm of the dead. Unfortunately, their jovial chat is interrupted by a sudden death with a few clues left to unravel.
Heathcliff’s Heart: Brynewielm Duke Heathcliff D’Vairefenix wants a quick beer, so he escapes to the Hearts bar with a book. When he gets there, Heath finds his mate. Young bartender Brinley Brimstone is saving every penny for an uncertain future. When the phoenix and fire mage meet, flames will surely follow.
Double Spades: For Bard Ashby D’Vaire, everything centers on his career, family, and garden. But Ashby is missing the love of a partner. It is with great reluctance that Seltivare Tristis takes a job at the Deck of Cards. But the elf’s misgivings are lost on his first night at work when he crosses paths with a jaguar hybrid who is determined to make his dreams come true.
Moving ahead of his family so he could open the tall door designed to look like an ace of hearts, Heathcliff smiled. “We’re D’Vaires. If we aren’t weird, we’ll get kicked out of the mansion.”
“That’s definitely not how that works,” Scheredin muttered.
Laughing, Heathcliff waited for everyone to walk into the bar. His chuckles died the second he followed them inside. Thanks to his elven ancestors, he’d lacked sexuality until that moment. To Heathcliff’s horror, his cock tented his trousers, and the sharp spicy scent of pink peppercorns consumed his senses.
Somewhere in the bar was his mate. Desperate to find him or her, Heathcliff looked around. His gaze unerringly landed on a man with shocked blue eyes and brown hair glowing a little red in the bar’s moody lighting. Heathcliff’s phoenix screeched with delight and a desire to know everything about the ignis mage staring at them.
“Heath, what’s wrong?” Kieran asked.
Too busy staring at the man, Heathcliff barely heard his brother’s question. His mate was in dark pants paired with a black-and-white shirt with giant red hearts down the right side.
“Wrong?” Heathcliff repeated dumbly as he edged farther toward the mage. Although he wanted to run to the man Fate had given him, Heathcliff needed his body to calm first. The last thing he wanted to do was point his erection at his other half as they spoke. It was mortifying to have no control over his hormones, but Heathcliff understood the overwhelming attraction.
The sorcerer was pretty with his nearly pouty lips and the slight upturn of his nose. He’d enhanced his dark lashes and added a bit of liner to give his eyes a smoky look that suited a man born to manipulate fire.
“Heathcliff, why the fuck are you still standing near the door? What’s wrong?” Kieran demanded.
With some blood finally returning to his brain, Heathcliff blinked heavily and glanced briefly at a concerned Kieran.
“Ignis mage,” Heathcliff said. “Do you see him?”
“Tall hot guy with blue eyes?” Scheredin asked.
“Tall is relative, I guess,” Kieran murmured.
“Yeah, yeah,” Brexton retorted. “Our people are short. So, I’d guess the mage is maybe eight or nine inches over five feet. Tall to us. Not to the towering phoenix shifters with us. Anyway, what about the mage, Heath?”
“He’s my mate,” Heathcliff answered, though the reality of the situation was far from settling in.
Kieran cheered and the other three clapped, which drew the attention of everyone in the bar. The guests were family, so questions would be asked later, but Heathcliff didn’t care. His lone concern was learning more about the mage.
“Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Scheredin insisted as he led the charge toward the startled sorcerer with Kieran in tow.
To spare the man from being interrogated, Heathcliff followed his family, and his phoenix grew calmer the closer he stepped to the ignis mage. As astonishing and frightening as it was to find the other half of his soul, his beast’s instincts were already screaming for him to claim the man with a bite.
“Hi, I’m Scher, what’s your name?” Scheredin asked.
The ignis mage swallowed thickly and kept his blue gaze locked on Heathcliff’s face. “Hi. Yes, hello. Um, my name is Brinley.”
Heathcliff was desperate to touch him, so he stuck his hand out to shake. “Hi, Brinley. I’m Heath.”
“Brynewielm Duke Heathcliff D’Vairefenix,” Kieran muttered.
“Oh, nice to meet you, Your Grace,” Brinley said as he slid his elegant hand into Heathcliff’s. The touch of his mate soothed Heathcliff, and his anxiety dropped by several notches as he smiled at Brinley. The ignis mage offered him an enchanting grin.
It sucked to pull his arm away, but it would’ve been weirder to hold on to Brinley forever, despite Heathcliff’s phoenix begging him to do just that. Heathcliff introduced the rest of their group, and Brinley greeted them, but his captivating gaze kept returning to Heathcliff. He’d take that as an excellent sign.
“I know you’re working now, but maybe we could talk later?” Heathcliff asked, almost pissed at himself for nearly rushing upstairs to read a book. If Scheredin hadn’t talked him into staying out for an hour, he would’ve missed meeting Brinley.
“I’d like that very much, Your Grace,” Brinley said, pulling out his phone and giving Heathcliff his number.
“Please call me Heath.”
Brinley cocked his head. “Aren’t you going to give me your number?”
“Yeah, sorry, I swear I’m usually not scatterbrained, but I’m overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting to meet you.”
“It definitely hasn’t sunk in for me that I’m standing here talking to my mate right now.”
“I nearly missed you,” Heathcliff confided, then gave Brinley his number.
“Yeah, my brother is desperate to read a new book and wanted to ditch us,” Kieran said.
“I can handle this on my own, thank you,” Heathcliff told Kieran.
Jessamyn Kingley has published over forty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly crafts new tales and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.
