Aly Martinez – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Aly Martinez – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:15 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Aly Martinez – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Falter – Guardian Protection Read Online Aly Martinez http://www.ilovenovels.com/falter-guardian-protection-read-online-aly-martinez Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:15 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/falter-guardian-protection-read-online-aly-martinez Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Suspense Authors: Aly Martinez Advertisement

Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)

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I once made the mistake of falling for a client, and it nearly cost me my career.
Jaded and disgraced, I used my attitude as armor so it could never happen again.

Until I was assigned to protect Lofton Beck.

Hollywood’s golden girl had a stalker on her tail—and two dead bodyguards.

She was a nightmare from the start. Didn’t follow orders. Had no concept of boundaries. Worst of all, she was so damn gorgeous I couldn’t build my walls strong enough to keep her out.

As the threats escalated, we were forced into hiding at her family’s farm. Keeping my distance became impossible with her sleeping in the room next door.

Somewhere between our early mornings together and the quiet moments when the world disappeared, it became clear her stalker wasn’t the most dangerous part of the assignment.

Protecting her was never the problem.
Falling for her could cost me everything

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

LOFTON

“Help me,” I whispered into the phone, pinning it between my shoulder and ear. Zoey’s pajama-clad legs dangled at my side as I held her with my palm sealed over her mouth. Her tears felt like acid to my soul as they dripped over my fingers.

I could barely hear the nine-one-one operator over my heart pounding. “Okay, ma’am. What’s your emergency?”

“Someone broke in and—” Another gunshot exploded outside the door. I wasn’t sure where it had come from or who had fired it, but the blood on the bottom of my bare feet didn’t leave me with much hope. Flinching at the sound, I momentarily lost my grasp on Zoey’s mouth.

“I want my mommy,” she cried.

“It’s okay. She’ll be here soon.” I lied, or at least I hoped I had. Brooke would have no doubt been a calm head in the midst of chaos, but with her out picking up dinner, it was safest for her to stay far, far away.

“Ma’am,” the dispatcher called, refocusing my attention. “What’s your address?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. It’s a rental, up on…on…um—” My brain went blank.

“Siena Place?”

“Yes! That’s it.”

“Okay, I’ve got help on the way. Is anyone injured?”

“My… my bodyguard. He was shot, I think…God, I don’t know. There was blood and…”

“Okay, and what about you? Are you injured?”

“No.” Spinning in a circle, I frantically searched the small bathroom.

No window.

No exit.

No escape.

My beloved privacy had never been more terrifying.

I set Zoey on her feet. Releasing her felt wrong on every level, but whoever had broken in wasn’t there for her. Opening the linen closet, I guided her toward it.

“Tofton, no,” she sobbed my nickname while fighting against me.

Desperate and quickly running out of options, I put the phone on the tile floor and squatted to her level. A steady stream of tears fell from her ocean blue eyes.

“Baby, come on,” I pleaded. “It’s okay. You know Marty and Derrick are out there. We’re safe. We just have to hide until the police get here.” It was a bald-faced lie. I’d stepped over Derrick’s lifeless body, and I had no clue where Marty was. I prayed like hell he wasn’t on the receiving end of that last gunshot.

I nudged her toward the closet. “They’re going to take care of us, but I need you to get in there. Cover up with as many towels as you can.” I offered her a smile that should have won me a second Oscar. “Pretend this is just a game of hide-and-seek? You go in the closet and hide until I find you.”

She shook her head, lip quivering. “I don’t want to pretend.”

God, did I understand that, but this was my life.

A life I’d chosen.

A life I’d sacrificed for.

A life most people would envy.

And now, I feared it was going to be a life my Zoey was going to die for.

I brushed a curl off her forehead and traced my thumb back and forth over her tear-soaked cheek. “Keep quiet, and don’t come out no matter what you hear, okay?” I kissed her forehead hard, letting it linger as it shredded me. “I promise. I’ll be right out here.”

She sniffled, her shoulders shaking with unshed sobs, but my girl was brave. Reluctantly, she ducked into the closet. I made quick work of burying her in towels and then quietly closed the door.

With her hidden, I put the phone back to my ear.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you still there?” the dispatcher called.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Please hurry.”

“I have help on the way. Do you know who broke in?”

“No, I didn’t see anyone. I just heard the gunshots and took off.”

“Okay, stay on the phone with me. What’s your name?”

“Lofton Beck.”

There was a blistering pause on her end. Silence so thick it buzzed in my ears. Not even the clack of keys as I hoped she was dispatching the entire police department.

Then—

“Lofton Beck?” she questioned, her voice rising, laced with awe and disbelief.

My spine snapped straight. This was not the time for the celebrity spotlight to work its paralyzing magic. “Please, just send—” I was cut off by a sudden banging on the bathroom door.

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Advertisement
Alone with You Read Online Aly Martinez http://www.ilovenovels.com/alone-with-you-read-online-aly-martinez Mon, 23 Sep 2024 09:23:07 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/alone-with-you-read-online-aly-martinez Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Suspense Authors: Aly Martinez Advertisement

Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)

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Pain trapped me in this house. Can love set me free?

Death had been chasing me my entire life. I survived the horrors of war, but it was the aftermath that truly destroyed me.

People called me a recluse, but the only time I didn’t feel like I was suffocating was inside that house.

For my daughter, I kept some semblance of normalcy by implementing a rigid routine. Once a week, I forced myself to walk to the diner at the end of the block—a ritual I despised but relied on as my last anchor to the real world.

Until the day a “Closed” sign on the door shattered my fragile existence. Worse, the new owner was the most haunting ghost from my past.

It had been years since I’d laid eyes on Gwendolyn Pierce. She hated me—and rightly so. But when a film crew arrived in town to dig into my past, she became my only ally.

With my secrets threatened, I leaned on Gwen, forging a connection neither of us could deny. But with a past as dark as ours, I feared it would eclipse any hope for a future.

I always said that when Death finally came for me, I would be ready, eager, and alone.
Always alone.

But for Gwen, maybe I could face the world again as long as it meant I could be alone—with her.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Truett

Death. It’s life’s only true constant. At any given second, someone was out there breathing their last breath. A heartbeat fading into silence. A soul escaping to a better place. At least that was what religious leaders and funeral directors would wax poetic about at services around the world.

I’d died once and it hadn’t felt like floating through the clouds. There were no pearly gates. No bright light guiding me home. Not one fucking ounce of peace to be found.

But then again, I’d died failing the people I loved.

Dying was the most god-awful, heinous, and terrifying experience imaginable. Or so I’d thought—until someone had brought me back to life.

Surviving. Now that was one level of agony that could never be matched.

I was a prisoner. Like a storm hovering on the horizon, Death followed me. Day in. Day out. The Grim Reaper became my own personal stalker. Unfortunately for me, my name had yet to be at the top of his list. No, my fate was worse. I’d become something of his tour guide, sentencing everyone around me to his wrath.

Therapists and doctors alike assured me that Death wasn’t a personified force chasing me around Earth. One even used the word delusional and asked if I’d considered medication. I shook a bag of pills at him and then not so kindly tossed his sorry-shrink-ass out of my house.

I wished I was delusional. I would have taken every fucking pill in existence if it could have made the horrors of my life figments of my imagination. I didn’t honestly believe there was a mythical scythe-toting being lurking in my shadow. But for fuck’s sake, something had to explain the ocean of pain I’d been drowning in for over half my life.

Call it what you will. Maybe I was cursed. Maybe in a different life I’d been a monster who deserved an eternity of torment. Regardless, delusion or karma, I wasn’t leading anyone else to their graves. When Death finally came looking for me, I was going to be ready, eager, and alone.

Always alone.

Blindly slapping around my nightstand, I killed my screaming alarm. My heart raced, the rude awakening never getting easier.

“Fuck,” I breathed as I pried one eye open. The sun streaming through my bedroom window blinded me. I let out a low groan and folded my forearm over my eyes, wishing I could block out my entire fucked-up life more so than the rays of the sun.

As I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my back let out a loud creak. I kept myself in shape, working out virtually every day, but at forty-two, my body was all but revolting against me. I’d put it through hell in my twenties. Six years of jumping out of planes in the Army had done the real heavy lifting in the damage department, but I’d done my fair share of destroying it in other ways. Tequila had been my poison of choice for most of my thirties, but eventually I got my shit together. After that kind of abuse, I should have been grateful all I had were a few rusty creaks.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee invaded my senses as I stood up and stretched. Thank God for auto brew. While sleeping naked was a definite perk of solitude, I’d learned the hard way that nudity and sloshing hot coffee did not mix. So, before leaving my room, I paused my pursuit of caffeination long enough to drag on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

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