Mimi Jean Pamfiloff – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Mimi Jean Pamfiloff – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:44 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Mimi Jean Pamfiloff – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Vampires, Whiskey, and Southern Charm (Masie Kicklighter #2) Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/vampires-whiskey-and-southern-charm-masie-kicklighter-2-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:44 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/vampires-whiskey-and-southern-charm-masie-kicklighter-2-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Series: Masie Kicklighter Series by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes a story with Southern feels, more cussing than Mamma approves of, and a vampire who thinks being hot is enough to win her heart: Vampires, Moonshine, and Southern Secrets.

HE’S FIVE HUNDRED YEARS OLD. SHE’S NOT IMPRESSED.

My name is Masie Kicklighter, and you’re never going to believe what our local vampire is up to this time. He honestly thinks he’ll get away with it, too.

Bless his undead heart.

Because this is still my town, and I’m not about to hand it over to a five-hundred-year-old vampire, just because he’s hotter than our Kicklighter whiskey.

Oh, and by the way, don’t drink the moonshine

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

PROLOGUE

To the editor of Supernatural Enquirer:

Hello. Me again. Masie Kicklighter.

The last time I wrote you, I was in prison for a murder I didn’t commit. (All Montgomery Stark’s wicked fault, of course. Ugh. Vampires!)

But this time, I am writing to confess to a murder.

Or pre-confess?

Whatever. Point is, this time I fully intend to kill that no good, lying POS Montgomery Stark—the world’s cruelest, most evil vampire.

Yeah, you heard me right.

I’m gonna kill, kill, kill that fangy man-trash! And I’m inviting you and your readers to join in your own murder-fun.

Now, before you start accusing me of sounding all crazy or like a woman scorned, I will admit that I’m spittin’ angry, but that’s not why I’m planning to end this beast of the night or why I’m urging you to do the same to your local evil vampire.

There is a new law about to pass, and it’ll give vampires “living” status. They want the same rights as humans!

Can you believe that crap? (Sorry, Mamma, I still can’t stop swearin’.)

Why any politician would vote for this pile of crusty turds boggles the mind, but I guess the lot in DC does love those donations. And vampires, well, they’re freakin’ loaded.

The only problem is that vampires have a plan, and spoiler alert: it don’t involve a peaceful coexistence with the livin’. They want to conquer us and make us feel all comfy-cozy and ooey-gooey warm inside until one day…blam! World domination.

Not that any of them bloodsuckers’ll say it to your face when you’re lying there naked in bed together. They’ll tell you how perrrty you look. They’ll say things like they love you, that they “want to spend eternity making your toes tingle,” and that they’ve “waited their entire existence for you.” That’s what them nasty ol’ vampires will tell you.

Well, wanna know what I say?

Liars!

Every single one of them!

Especially that Montgomery Stark, who betrayed me in the worst possible way.

So you tell your readers that we got us a few days to kill as many evil vampires as possible. Do not wait! They can’t be trusted!

Especially the one who broke my heart. And for that, Montgomery Stark will pay.

Yours Truly,

Masie Kicklighter

CHAPTER ONE

Leiper’s Fork, Tennessee. Five days earlier.

From the comfort of Stark’s antique-filled mansion, I rolled over in bed and beamed into his sultry, pale blue eyes, my chest heaving with postcoital exertion.

His long dark hair shined like glossy strands of midnight against the crisp white pillowcase. In the background, the glowing embers in the stone fireplace gave his bedroom a velvety feel that cocooned us in the moment.

Dang it, he’s so beautiful. I sighed with a contentment that plucked at my heartstrings. Had I known that sex could be (sigh…) so soul-consuming, leaving me raw and vulnerable in the best kind of way, I wouldn’t have waited my entire life to give it a whirl.

Though, on second thought, I doubted any of the men I’d come across during my twenty-seven years of life could butter my biscuits the way Stark did.

This vampire knew what he was doing—when to linger and when to pump those narrow hips. Even his breathing felt like a sexy slow dance: a deep guttural groan to let me know he was losing his mind with pleasure, followed by the softest breath on the crook of my neck to keep me in the moment, experiencing every touch, every beat of his heart (yes, heart!), and every spike of pleasure. In bed, he was in total control, but that control was for my pleasure.

“If you continue sighing like that,” Stark said in a smooth, deep voice, “I will be forced to make love to you again.”

A shamelessly goofy smile popped onto my swollen lips. “Welp, Stark, no one ever said I’d be easy to please.”

He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at me. “You are a demanding little vampire. This pleases me.”

Vampire. The word bounced around in my head like a pinball going nowhere. Was I really one of them now?

I still felt just as human as I had on my last day alive, when Stark’s brother, Lazlo, and Lazlo’s evil sidekick Fiona took my life in the parking lot behind the Flaming Rooster—my family’s bar, which I now owned. Next door to that was the distillery where we made award-winning Tennessee whiskey. It was a great life that I’d worked hard for, and that night, I’d thought I was done for.

Until I woke up.

Two days ago.

As a vampire.

“You look uneasy. What is the matter?” Stark asked.

“I know you said it’ll take some gettin’ used to, but shouldn’t I have super-hearing or super-smell or something vampiry?” My stomach grumbled.

“You have super-hunger. Shall I bring you the drink?”

The drink. Earlier, he’d offered me a concoction he called “moonshine” in a brown glass bottle, and I’d turned it down. He claimed it was an ancient herbal elixir with a small amount of human blood to ease my discomfort during the transformation.

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Dragon in Boots – The Immortal Tailor Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/dragon-in-boots-the-immortal-tailor-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Mon, 10 Mar 2025 19:23:40 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/dragon-in-boots-the-immortal-tailor-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes Dragon in Boots, a Paranormal Rom-Com with way too much baby oil, awkward dirty dancing, and a scorching hot love.

MEET DASH: MALE STRIPPER, ANIMAL LOVER, AND…DRAGON?

JACQUELIN

Jacquelin would do anything to save her struggling animal sanctuary—including bartending at a strip club, enduring drunken bachelorette parties, and putting up with her weirdo boss, who’s obsessed with all things pink.

But nothing could prepare her for Dash: the club’s star performer with abs you could grate cheese on and an ego bigger than his, ahem, moves.

From the moment Dash struts onto the stage, Jacquelin can’t decide if she wants to throw her drink at him or pour it over her head. “Is it just me, or is it scorching hot in here?”

When the women in the audience start acting like wild animals, Jacquelin knows something strange is going on.

Is Dash’s off-the-charts charisma driving her mad, or is there more to him than meets the abs?

DAMIEN

Damien, the immortal tailor, has tackled demonic fashion emergencies, violent vampires, and unhinged deities. But convincing Dash—a male stripper and, oh yeah, the last male dragon on Earth—to embrace his scaly destiny? That’s next-level absurd.

But Damien would do anything to win back Sky, the love of his life, who is, well, dead and needs a new body—something only a deranged goddess can arrange. A goddess who wants an army of dragons for her war.

Can Damien nudge the reluctant dragon into the mating game? Or will Damien lose the ghostly love of his life forever?

DASH

I’m the world’s greatest stripper. Not a dragon. Pass the baby oil.

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

CHAPTER ONE

“I can do this. I can do this. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Jacquelin Flanagan parked her pickup outside the Dallas strip club, feeling the sorts of nauseous waves any woman might for her first shift at a new job. Not that there was much to bartending. If she smiled, treated customers well, and gave generous pours, the tips generally followed.

She hoped.

It’ll all work out. The money will come. It has to. Of course, that was the kind of hopeful bull crap that had led her here, to the sort of job that said to the world: I make crazy-bad life choices. Today, however, was a new low. If rock had a bottom, this was rock’s stinky diaper.

Seriously. Screw my shitty life. She sighed and gathered up her snacks, cell, and three-legged giraffe keychain, shoving them all into her enormous canvas purse.

Stay positive, Jac. It’s the only way you’ll get through this, she told herself.

It wasn’t that slinging drinks was beneath her, but it was a far and humbling cry from where she’d planned to be at age thirty-five: vet school, business degree, running a successful nonprofit for animals, and maybe even married with two smooth-skinned critters, aka kids. Those had been the dream. Not slinging drinks at a strip club.

What would her parents say if they were still alive? Nothing good.

Thank God my sisters are too busy with their lives to get in my hair. Heather and Holly—both opinionated, fiery redheads with green eyes, like Jac—were in their forties, dealing with teenagers, careers, and husbands. They had no clue that Jac had been lying for years about how bad things had gotten, and Jac would make sure they never found out. Not only would her older sisters give her hell, but they would try to help and then hold it over her head. Heather and Holly were both control freaks, though they weren’t always wrong when they gave advice.

For example: “Go to school first, Jac. Get it out of the way.” “Don’t support a man before you can support yourself.” “You’re bananas for taking over an animal sanctuary with nothing more than a broken wing and a prayer.”

It was sage advice that Jac had ignored, and now she was feeling the shame of it on every level, about to work her first shift at a place where the pants had Velcro, the sausage was free range, and the customers checked their brains at the door.

To boot, the owner, Mrs. Peepers, said they were trying “something new” by hiring Jac, a woman.

When Jac had asked why something as common as a female bartender was a novelty, Mrs. Peepers had simply leaned back in her pink chair, plopped her glittery pink cowboy boots onto her hot pink desk, and removed her long pink wig. Peepers then rumpled her flaming red hair—not at all similar to Jac’s natural red with golden highlights—and then put the wig back on. Backwards.

“Welp, sweetheart,” Peepers had said with a blatantly fake Texan accent, “let me put ’er like this: them-there customers arrive with their panties in o’ bunch—life’ll do that to gal who has too many doughnut holes because ain’t nobody poking them out. But when they leave the Pink Pit of Pleasure, well…they’re like randy sailors after spending a week with a mermaid on El Corazón Island.”

What the hell does that mean? Jac had thought.

“Great question!” Peepers had erected her pale index finger in the air, followed by wiggling her red eyebrows.

“But I…didn’t…say anything,” Jac had muttered.

“Didn’t you?”

“No. But I think you were trying to explain that the women get rowdy, or something like that,” Jac had said.

“Rowdy? Oh, no, Jac-hammer. Think: women blowing off yearsss of steam. Honestly, this club is no place for a lady.”

But they cater to women. Jac had shrugged off the strange conversation, not giving it much thought. After all, women had the right to release pent-up frustration like anyone else. So what if they did it while staring at men marinated in baby oil?

At the end of the day, this was a job, and Jac needed money. Caring for abandoned exotic animals wasn’t cheap, and the donations didn’t always come when she needed them. Take last month, for example, when Wanda the orangutang fractured her hip. Poor thing was pretty old.

Anyway, with Jac providing care for her critters seven days a week and also giving private tours during the day to help support the sanctuary, that only left her with a few hours each night to earn extra cash. So here she was, hoping the money would be as good as Mrs. Peepers claimed. If not, those poor animals would have nowhere to go.

Dressed in jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a bright pink T-shirt with the club’s flaming peach pit logo, Jac made her way to the heavy double doors of the Pink Pit of Pleasure and then followed the dimly lit hallway. Along the walls, framed posters of the male dancers gave her a taste of what she was in for tonight. Most of the men wore costumes—fireman, tiger, caveman, beaver, etc.—and they all had six-pack abs (or a large tail), but in her opinion, not one was sexy. Not even Dash, the headliner.

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A Ho Ho Ho Beau Christmas Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/a-ho-ho-ho-beau-christmas-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Thu, 21 Nov 2024 13:37:27 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-ho-ho-ho-beau-christmas-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes a Christmas Rom-Com with a sweet magical surprise.

As the snow begins to fall and the city streets sparkle with festive lights, Meri Winters feels anything but merry. Juggling a demanding job and a strained relationship with her best friend, she’s more focused on surviving the holiday season than enjoying it.

That is, until she meets Beau Starling, a ruggedly handsome hobo who’s been living in the alley behind her building. Despite his disheveled appearance, there’s something mysterious about him—an inexplicable pull she can’t ignore.

As Meri opens her heart to this unlikely stranger, she discovers that Beau isn’t just a wanderer passing through. He has secrets—ones that could change both their lives forever.

In a season known for miracles, Meri will have to decide whether to take a leap of faith and trust in the magic of the holidays, or risk losing the one gift she never expected.

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

CHAPTER ONE

“I love early Christmas sales,” I said to my best friend, Kay, who was shopping with me after our Saturday spin class. “It’s like a buffet of orgasms without all the complications of sex.”

I grabbed five packages of lights and balanced them atop the giant plastic Santa, red cookie tins, and rolls of foiled wrapping paper in my shopping cart. Ten percent discount, baby! Woohoo!

“Oh. I think I just came again.” I wiggled my hips. “I just wish my wallet were into it. He’s such a frigid bitch.”

“Meri, girl,” Kay groaned, “you do this every year, and then you’re broke for the next twelve months.”

Ooh. Santa swizzle sticks! I grabbed three packs.

“Well, yeah,” I replied to Kay. “But at least I pay off my credit cards before the next Christmas. Right?” It was how my parents raised me. Always pay your debts, and when it comes to the holidays, give until your eyeballs bleed. And then give a little more.

Okay, okay. That last part wasn’t what they taught me, but they did love Christmas, and growing up, they did such a good job of making the holidays feel magical that I became obsessed. I literally started planning Christmas in January, the moment my dried-out tree went to the curb of my charming, 1920s apartment building with adorable arched windows and stained-glass sidelights. I then started packing up my decorations to go into storage because I wanted to take advantage of the post-holiday clearance sales for the following December.

Well, November, really. Any self-respecting Christmas enthusiast had their lights twinkling, their manger manged, and their fake tree (aka my holiday warmup tree before the live one moved in) re-flocked by mid-November.

Me? I started decorating in October, meaning right about now.

I just loved everything about the season, and it couldn’t come fast enough—the smell of fresh cookies and cinnamon candles, the cheery music, the parties and lights and sound of laughter and the miniature reindeer display on my coffee table and my snowflake-shaped dishes and…deep breath, everything!

But most of all, I looked forward to throwing my famous, annual Christmas party. I usually crammed fifty people inside my one-bedroom apartment, but everyone got to experience a magical Christmas and went home with a belly full of decadent treats.

I also gifted everyone in my social circle a tin of my signature sugar cookies. You know, the ones shaped like angels with those little edible pearls and a layer of powdered sugar in a lace pattern—a trick I’d perfected, using a special sifter I’d ordered from France. Set me back fifty dollars, but worth every penny.

“Meri,” Kay growled, her big green eyes narrowing on the pile of treasures in my red shopping cart. She only had a bag of apples in hers. Loser. “You promised you’d scale back this time so the two of us can take that cruise next summer.”

The weighty nuisance of guilt appeared inside my stomach, instantly smothering my pre-holiday shopping buzz. I had promised her, hadn’t I?

For the last three years, I’d sworn up and down that we’d go, but every time she went to book time off from work, I’d tell her I didn’t have the money.

She’d gotten so desperate last spring that she’d offered to pay my way—three thousand dollars for a two-week cruise in the Caribbean. First-class cabin with a balcony, endless views of turquoise water, and five-star dining. It was a high nail on her bucket list, right up there with marrying a man who loved to cook gourmet dinners and give three-hour-long foot rubs.

Of course, I’d turned down her generous offer to pay my way, feeling ashamed of myself for being so broke. Again.

But honestly? She worked just as hard as I did, and I wasn’t about to mooch. She was in real estate, and I was an insurance analyst who specialized in insuring big developers. Yes, I made decent money, but it somehow ended up under the tree each year.

Anyway, after I said no thank you in the nicest possible way, Kay cried and declared she’d go without me next summer. I felt like garbage and swore up and down I would not be broke next year. I would save, and we’d go together.

But, gah! I love Christmas. I eyed the stuff in my cart and then looked at Kay’s crinkled lips preparing to unleash some choice words. She fully expected me to break another promise, and she’d be right.

Could I really do this to her—choose an amazing Christmas over Kay? We’d been best friends since middle school, ever since Kevin Foster started making fun of my freckles and frizzy brown curls. Every day he’d come up with a new name for me—fuzz butt, pork rind, rat’s nest, and pube head. Then one day, he’d called me “slutty tumbleweed,” claiming I just rolled from guy to guy like a “wild bag of hoes.” He added that each freckle on my face was a devil’s kiss for all the boys I’d banged. “Marks of shame,” he’d called them. I guessed his parents were super religious or something, and he’d improvised on their teachings.

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Draco – The King Series Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/draco-the-king-series-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Mon, 27 May 2024 20:58:09 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/draco-the-king-series-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes Draco, a standalone dark romantic fantasy about a man fated to end the world and a woman fated to stop him.

DRACO
Approaching my thirtieth birthday, life seemed a dream: the perfect job, a girlfriend I adored, and endless possibilities ahead.

Then I woke up. Trapped in a grimy cellar, my body frail, and my love vanished.

Determined to break free, I succeed. But then the grim truth emerges: my entire reality is a fabrication, and I’ve been branded as the catalyst for the apocalypse. Why me?

I refuse to accept my fate, but how do I stop it when every move I make only brings me closer to becoming death’s henchman?

PIPER
When a mysterious man showed up at my door, looking to rent a room, I knew I should turn him away. He wasn’t only good looking, which my live-in boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate, but there was something off about him. Still, I couldn’t say no.

Then things take a dark turn when he claims he’s seen me in his dreams and wants me to explain why. He seems crazy. Or is he?

Because strange stuff starts happening, including the unshakable feeling that I know this man from somewhere. I think…I think I’m meant to help him.

But why does every instinct scream to run? And why can’t I resist getting closer?

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

PROLOGUE

King

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mia stood in our bedroom doorway, her blonde curls whipping in the warm salty air coming through the open window. Her sky-blue eyes, eyes that I loved with every piece of my soul, simmered with anger.

She already knew my answer.

“I am sorry, but I must do this.” I marched outside to the balcony and gazed across the endless blues of the Mediterranean.

God, how I love this place. Crete, four thousand years ago. I grew up on this island. I learned to love and be a king here. But I did not deserve this heaven.

I climbed up onto the ledge and stared down at the violent waves breaking over the jagged black rocks below. The rhythmic sound had been beckoning me since my arrival, like a mixture of voices from my violent past, screaming and roaring for my atonement.

And they would never stop.

Not until I made things right.

“King! No!” Mia ran up behind me and grabbed my elbow. “Please don’t leave me again. We’re happy here. You’re finally at peace.”

Peace? Nothing could be further from the truth.

I looked over my shoulder, soaking in Mia’s lovely face one final time. I had gone through hell to be with her in this afterlife, but a piece of me still remained on the other side among the living.

“He cannot be my legacy, Mia. Great kings build better worlds, not destroy them.”

Mia snarled, “Fucking shit, King, your time is over, and he is not your problem. Let the world burn if that’s what he’s meant to do. Your place is with us.”

I had managed to beat death for thousands of years, and it was all to be with Mia, a woman from the future. In the end, after Mia and our youngest son had been murdered, I fought with everything I had to find them again in the afterlife. But Mia knew I had committed too many sins to belong here.

Hell was supposed to be my home.

And before I went, I had to ensure the people I loved would be safe. It did not matter if they were already dead. A soul held light and power. It could be snuffed out like any living creature. No one, not even I, could come back from such a death.

I swallowed down my anguish. “I lived for centuries, defying the natural order of life. I killed, I used people, and I lied—none of it I regret because it led me to you, Mia. But you will never be safe unless I stop the cancer I have left behind.”

The veil between us and the world of the living grew thinner by the day, and while Mia believed we were powerful enough to fend off anyone, I knew better. This threat was unlike anything the world had ever known.

“King, you can’t—”

“No more talk,” I barked. “He is waking. I can feel it. And nothing will survive him. Not unless I get to him before he learns how truly powerful he is.”

The look in Mia’s eyes said she did not believe me. “We’ve fought worse, and if he wants to come, let him. You’ll protect us.”

After all these years, she still thought I controlled the earth, moon, and sun. She thought I was all powerful, a god who could not be bested. How very wrong she was.

I was simply a man on a journey, making mistakes every step of the way. There was only one last mistake to atone for: Draco.

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Vampires, Whiskey, and Southern Charm (Masie Kicklighter #1) Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/vampires-whiskey-and-southern-charm-masie-kicklighter-1-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Thu, 08 Feb 2024 08:24:22 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/vampires-whiskey-and-southern-charm-masie-kicklighter-1-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Series: Masie Kicklighter Series by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >67

From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes a standalone story filled with Southern vibes, way too many cuss words, and a woman determined to defeat the local vampire.

HE’S NEVER GIVING UP, AND SHE’S NEVER GIVING IN.

My name is Masie Kicklighter, and I work at my family’s local bar in the heart of Tennessee, slinging whiskey and living a quiet life.

I can’t say my life was perfect, but when a local vampire started stalking me and sayin’ all sorts of crazy things (I was not his. Nor would I ever be), my first instinct was to run.

But Leiper’s Fork was my home. This was my town. And no one was gonna run me out. Even if he was hotter than a Sunday BBQ in July.

So I came up with a plan to run him off.

The only problem? He was one stubborn man. And crafty, too.

Then something terrible happened. A whole lot of terrible somethings. And they would change everything for us both.

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

PROLOGUE

To the editor of the Supernatural Inquirer:

My name is Masie Kicklighter, and in the interest of transparency, you should know a few things about me before jumping into my story, a story that just might save your readers’ lives.

First, I use obscene language when I’m nervous. Lately, that’s every waking second. You’d be swearing, too, if you were in my shoes.

Second, despite my use of nasty words, I’m a good girl. Don’t smoke, do drugs, drink, or believe in premarital sex. My body is a temple worth saving for the right man. Mamma raised me that way, and I feel no shame for being old-fashioned. After all, what has new-fashioned done for my sorry, poor ass besides get me into trouble?

Which leads to point number three: I’m now a convicted murderer, writing to you from prison, where I’ll be spending the rest of my life for a crime I did not commit.

Fact! You can’t murder someone who’s already dead! Though, I am guilty of a crime worse than murder. I betrayed someone important.

In closing, just know that I don’t deserve to leave this cell, but I hope you will publish my enclosed story. It is not for vindication. This is for you, your readers, and humankind, even if no one will believe a word I’m about to say.

Because he’s still out there.

Yours truly,

Masie Kicklighter

P.S. Please excuse the fact that it is written on toilet paper.

CHAPTER ONE

“Kiss my doughnut hole, cowboy. I wanna speak to a lawyer.” I stared defiantly at Thomas Rowlan—aka Sheriff Idiot—who had a fresh coffee stain down the front of his beige uniform. His dirt-brown hair stuck up on one side like he’d just rolled out of bed. Probably because he had.

It was just past four in the morning—an ungodly hour—but that wasn’t going to stop me from screaming at the top of my lungs to anyone who’d listen. I was being framed!

You’re not getting away with this! You hear that, you evil vampire? I wasn’t Montgomery Stark’s first victim, but I’d be damned if I let some other poor sucker be his last. That honor would be mine, since I was the world’s only hope for stopping him. Over the last few weeks, I’d learned all of Stark’s tricks.

Well, except for the one that landed me here at the Leiper’s Fork Police Station, located in the heart of Tennessee, just forty-five minutes from Nashville.

Mamma, my older sister Maybell, and I moved here from Paducah, Kentucky, about ten years ago, when I was fifteen. Daddy had already been in Leiper’s Fork for almost a year, working hard at the whiskey distillery for his brother, the owner, Uncle Jimmie.

Needless to say, Daddy couldn’t afford much in the way of houses, so he bought a run-down shack and did what men in our family had always done: used their own two hands to build something better.

Sadly, after the house was complete and we all moved in, Daddy died of a heart attack. At least he got to see the smile on Mamma’s face when she saw the place for the first time. She especially loved the wraparound porch he’d built her, just perfect for sipping iced tea on a hot summer day.

She never did get to enjoy that tea with him, but at least the property was paid for, so we weren’t going to be homeless—the only comforting thought during the worst year of my life. I’d had to start a new school in a new town with just the three of us as sad as we could be.

Little did I know how hard it was going to get after that. Don’t get me wrong, there were good times, too, and those were the memories I clung to when things got crazy. Lately, that was all I had. Crazy with a side of dang-crazy.

It all started a few years ago when rich folks began moving to town, building luxurious country estates. Overnight, home prices went through the roof, and most of the locals couldn’t resist cashing in. Mamma was one of them. Sold our two-bedroom “Southern charmer” and one acre for a million bucks. Now she lived in Florida in some old people’s community. Not my thing, but good for her. God knew something positive needed to come out of all this, because I recently learned that those rich folks weren’t folks at all.

Most of ’em were vampires.

Yep, you heard me right. The cursed, the children of the night, bloodsucking devils, the immortal. On the outside, Leiper’s Fork was a quaint Southern town with its local mom-and-pop café and quilting store, but beneath the historical charm, something dark and sinister was brewing: Montgomery Stark. And he was one sneaky SOB.

“Masie, you can drop the tough-girl act. I know you,” said Sheriff Idiot. “Tell me why you stabbed that man. Let me help you.”

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Vampire in the Jungle Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/vampire-in-the-jungle-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Thu, 14 Sep 2023 21:21:55 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/vampire-in-the-jungle-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes Vampire in the Jungle, a Paranormal Rom-Com.

“Bring me that vampire! Or else!”

When a powerful goddess gives Damien one week to deliver the world’s last vampire, he only has one question: “Why is the vampire hiding in the jungle?”

Damien isn’t sure, but he knows what’ll happen if he fails: the insane goddess will execute the only two women Damien’s ever cared for. (It’s complicated.)

Also, there’s the small matter of his assistant, who believes her destiny is to become a vampire herself. (It’s very complicated.)

Unfortunately, the vampire in question hates the modern world, has a severe attachment to his lair, and he makes it a point to kill anyone who gets too close. No mercy.

Can Damien and his crew of supernatural oddballs convince this deadly vampire to come out of hiding before it’s too late?

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

CHAPTER ONE

Damien Greystone willed himself not to strangle the redhead bathing in a tub of grape jelly. But he’d be a fool to think he could go up against her, a powerful goddess.

As things stood, the insane deity had him by the balls, and with this power, she’d been slowly turning his life into a circus.

Her latest stunt was the last straw. Completely unforgivable!

“Cimil.” He stared at the bubble machine to his side, avoiding her nakedness. “I understand you are all-powerful and all-knowing; however, you have brought back the only two women I have ever cared for from the dead. Willa was a witch and not a kind one. She will eat Sky alive.” And Sky, being a modern woman, would not stand for being threatened, degraded, or pushed aside. In short, this was a disaster in the making. What the devil was Cimil thinking?

“You’re welcome!” Cimil declared triumphantly.

No. Not welcome. “What I do not understand,” he brushed off the bubbles accumulating on the front of his navy suit, “is why you would then force them both to work for me.” Cimil had told the women that if they wanted to get back inside living bodies, they each had to sidekick for him.

“Don’t think that just because you’re all,” she waved a hand in his direction, “smokin’ hot with pouty sex lips, that whining will work on me.”

He was not whining. And his looks were irrelevant, though she wasn’t wrong. He was an exceptionally handsome man—tall, physically fit, thick brown hair like all Greystone men.

“Cimil, I am not above using my looks to my advantage when the situation calls for it, but today is not one of those days. I do not need sidekicks. Especially those two women.”

She inhaled deeply and blew out a breath, sending more bubbles in his direction. “Damien, you are my right hand now—my sheriff—the scrum to my scrumdiddlyumptious plan. That makes these lovely ladies your deputy scrums. But alas, you are right. Having both around will only cause distraction. Therefore, you may choose one.”

“Oh, thank you,” he said dryly. “That is going to sit well with the ladies.” Cimil was loving this, wasn’t she? But that was Cimil. She wasn’t happy if she wasn’t creating chaos (and then coming to the rescue so she could be the hero). Unfortunately, her solutions always came with a price.

Case in point, he had agreed to be Cimil’s right hand in order to bring back Sky—the woman he accidentally ran over with his SUV. He also happened to find Sky insanely attractive. Why wouldn’t he agree to Cimil’s terms?

Little did he know that Cimil would also bring back Willa, his first love from almost two hundred years ago. To be clear, that relationship had not ended well.

“I choose neither,” he replied, “because we both know that anyone who gets close to me miraculously ends up dead.”

Going to whine about me now, brother? You are such a pussy. Some people have three, four, even five souls inhabiting them. You, though? Just one extra. And he’s awesome. You’re also welcome.

Damien ignored the evil twin residing inside him—an inherited trait like his thick dark hair. All Greystone males were born this way. And yes, the twins were always psychotic, murdering assholes.

“Then lucky you,” Cimil said chirpily, “because you get to pick whichever woman you want to keep close.” Her smile melted away, replaced by a savage gleam in her turquoise eyes—a sign of her divinity. He now had the same color eyes, compliments of Cimil, who had demanded he accept her gift of immortality. He guessed it was to make him a little sturdier for the dangerous tasks ahead.

“And if I do not choose?” Damien folded his arms over his chest.

“Then I will kill them both instead of one.”

His stomach lurched. “You-you want to kill the woman I do not choose?”

“Yes siree, Bob. And just to make it interesting, I will also kill both women if you fail your next mission. Comprende?”

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Two Sticky Nuts – OHellNo Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/two-sticky-nuts-ohellno-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Tue, 20 Jun 2023 02:21:17 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/two-sticky-nuts-ohellno-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >58

How far would you go for your possible Mr. Right?

I’m all in for a trip to Jamaica with my best friend, Sofie—sunshine, fruity cocktails, hot men. Yes, please! But when Sofie takes off with a sexy waiter, I’m stuck all alone. At what turns out to be a family resort. Where are the single men?

I’m ready to head home early when I spot an Adonis coming from the beach. Ohmygod. Are those abs real? Did he just sit next to me?

Turns out, Carter’s smart, adventurous, and makes indie films. We spend two amazing days together as he scouts locations around the island. And though we don’t hook up, our chemistry’s on fire! Quivers. Goosebumps. Fire!

Before he leaves, we trade numbers since he’s always passing through Dallas, where I live, and I can’t wait to see him again.

Until…

I get home.

And show a coworker my vacation pics.

And she recognizes Carter.

Gasp! Carter failed to mention his side gig, and let’s just say Mamma wouldn’t approve. I really want to give this guy a shot, but can I get past this?

Answer: I just might have to join him to find out.

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

TWO STICKY NUTS

CHAPTER ONE

“No, no, no…” Standing at the open front door of my apartment, I drop my bag of groceries and gasp. “This can’t be happening.”

A slurry of poop and mushy clumps of toilet paper are crawling toward me through the living room. Why is there potty lava in my apartment?

The stench hits my nose, sending me back outside. I just moved to this complex two weeks ago, after my last apartment burned down. Old wiring. All my clothes and furniture went with it.

This new place isn’t what I’d call home—only a short-term furnished rental—but it’s close to the office where I work in Dallas, Texas. We manage commercial properties and corporate relocation rentals, which is how I know this apartment was a great find. Surprisingly, my dick of a boss, Dick, hooked me up, but only because he didn’t want me to miss work. I basically do his job while he’s off playing golf. Lots and lots of golf.

I start digging through my obscenely oversized canvas purse to find my phone and call the property manager, Buddy.

I hit send, and the phone starts ringing. Five times. Six times. Voicemail. “Fuck!”

What am I going to do? I just spent my emergency funds on new work clothes and essentials like bedding, makeup, and a hairdryer. Hopefully, I can get all my stuff out before it’s ruined, but where the hell am I going to live? I don’t have enough money for another deposit, plus first and last month’s rent.

“Mila!” I hear Buddy’s voice call out from behind me.

I turn to find him in dripping wet overalls, holding a huge red wrench. He’s an older man with a scraggly beard who lives on the premises but looks like he should be off in a cabin in the woods, practicing taxidermy or plotting to blow something up. He just has that crazy-ass look about him.

“What the hell, Buddy? My place is full of sewage.”

Panting, Buddy stops next to me and glances inside. “Oh. Oh no. This is worse than I thought.” He scratches his stringy gray hair with his free hand.

“What happened?”

He winces apologetically. “I was tryin’ to fix a leaking pipe in the upstairs unit,” he says with a twang, “but my wrench slipped and cracked the pipe beside it. Musta been the sewer line.”

“No. You don’t say.”

He stares at the disaster creeping toward us. “The water leak probably softened the floor. See how the shit’s comin’ down them walls? It’s really going now.”

Meaning, all ten apartments directly above are taking a dump in my living room.

“Where the hell am I going to live?” I ask.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mila. I’ll have this all cleaned up and fixed for ya in no time. Just gimma a couple days.”

Wrong. “This place is a toxic stink bomb. It’ll take months to clean and air out.”

“Did I ever tell ya that you remind me of my ex?”

“Were her eyes filled with utter contempt for you, too?” I ask drably.

“Now that you mention it, yeah.” He bobs his head. “But she was also a purty little redhead.” He pauses. “Then all her hair fell out. She was always workin’ and worryin’. Just like you.”

I don’t know if I’d call myself a “purty little redhead,” though I’m not super tall (five six), and I do have long red hair and green eyes. And yes, I’m always working. But constantly worrying? Me? “I think you might be picking up on the fact that my fucking apartment is a biohazard, Buddy.”

He scratches his head again. “I guess you might be right.”

Guess? No, I’m pretty damned sure. “Got any rain boots?” I ask.

“Why?”

“I need to go inside and clear out my stuff.” Then I need to bear the utter humiliation of being a grown woman of thirty-two years old who needs to call Mom and Dad for a loan. Fuck my life.

CHAPTER TWO

“Dick, I’m sorry, but I’m taking my vacation time. I have to find a new home, and I don’t want to be in a short-term rental again.”

Dick’s gray eyes narrow from behind his desk, which is covered in obnoxious golf paraphernalia, like a giant golf ball paperweight and golf bag pen holder. To the side of the room is a bookshelf cluttered with gleaming, golden trophies from his fundraiser tournaments. I’d like to shove them all up his flabby old ass, though he’s not really old. Maybe fifty-something? He has a lot of sun damage from all that outdoor time, and for a man who does so much walking on the green, he has quite the beer belly.

“You know this month is busy for me, Mila,” he says, pushing back in his chair the way he does when he’s about to throw his weight around.

“Every month is busy for you, Dick, which is why I haven’t had a vacation since I started working here. That was three years ago, Dick.” I get such pleasure from saying his name. I wonder why.

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Just Mr. Love – Revoluvtion Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/just-mr-love-revoluvtion-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Mon, 24 Apr 2023 15:56:18 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/just-mr-love-revoluvtion-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >55

(NOTE: Reading book 1 isn’t required, but this is a series. Fun, new drama in every book!)

From bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes a semi-raunchy Rom-Com with a dash of the impossible and a whole lotta dirty language, Just Mr. Love.

Is he a love machine or a weapon of mass destruction?
My name is Huff, and I used to be a wimpy nerd, but after an unfortunate event, I now have the strength of a hundred men along with other interesting abilities. Even my, eh-hem, man part is pretty special—a recent discovery. “I can’t believe it can do that!”
No one knows exactly how this happened, but now I have enemies. Some want to reverse engineer me, and others want me dead.
The only thing keeping me from losing my sh*t is River, the girl I’ve loved since the second grade. I’d do anything for her. Anything.
But every time we try to move out of the friend zone, something gets in the way. This time, that something is me.
I just might be deadly in bed.

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

CHAPTER ONE

“You went to River’s bedroom? You let her see you!” my brother, Kyle, yells over the phone as I pace the weathered dock behind my house. Location undisclosed.

All right. Fine. I’m in Mexico at a secluded lake near the border of Belize. They say the gods once lived here, but I’m no god. It’s where I’ve been hiding out the past seven months.

I keep my head down, I have my groceries delivered to my front porch each week, and I mostly stay on the property. There are a few small hotels and eco-resorts near here, but for the most part, the people who come to swim or fish on the lake are locals. Chances are slim they’ve become obsessed with me, like people in the US. Still, when I go outside, I wear sunglasses and a hat.

Why? Because the whole world thinks I’m dead, not to mention one hell of a special guy.

Just who am I? I used to be a shy, wimpy nerd. But today? Well, it’s complicated.

My real name is Hudson Ulysses Ferris, but my friends and family call me Huff. Others know me as Mr. Ultra Mega Love, who tragically “perished” seven months ago due to heart failure.

Nope. Not dead.

Pfft. It was a lame nickname anyway. What’s even lamer is that they all thought I was a real-life superhero. One brave act and society labels you.

“What the hell were you thinking, Huff?” Kyle snaps.

“I know. I fucked up.” I brush back my shaggy hair. I can’t really go into town to cut it, so it’s clippers. Grow out. Clippers. Grow out. Right now, I look like a surfer dude due to my sun-bleached hair past my ears, though I’m anything but laid-back.

“I screwed up,” I admit to my big brother. “I never should’ve gone to see her.”

“No shit,” he barks. “Do you have any idea of the crap I’ve gone through to make the world believe you’re dead? Not to mention the guilt I put up with from Mom and Dad? They won’t stop hounding me to arrange a visit. They have no fucking clue how dangerous it would be if anyone outside our family found out you’re still alive.”

He’s right. I’d be hunted by every government and pharmaceutical company on the planet. The psycho chemist Morris, who created the drug that transformed me, was initially employed by a sports drink company called Muscle Juice Potion. MJP for short. Morris’s performance-enhancing cocktail turned out to be highly effective but with major side effects. Exploding heart, for one. But only if you stopped taking the drug cold turkey. It also made people murderously aggressive.

Anyway, a lot of athletes at my university were hooked on it and died. I was unfortunate enough to be drowned by a bunch of dickheads in a sludge pond adjacent to the MJP factory. Apparently, I gobbled down a gallon of experimental batches from Morris’s super-juice trials, plus whatever else was in that pond.

Honestly, no one knows what gave me the strength of a hundred men, the ability to travel with one thought, and the hearing of a distrusting mother. I can heal fast, too. It’s why I’m so valuable. I’d make the ideal super-soldier. Or spy, weapon, Olympic athlete—pretty much anything requiring strength. And since MJP wanted to cover their tracks and disposed of all the byproducts in that pond, no one knows what was really in it.

I don’t even think Morris, who’s been on the run for as long as I’ve been in hiding, has a clue what happened to me.

“Huff,” Kyle says, “I’m going to fix this, but you can’t pull this crap again. River thought you were dead, and as hard as that was for her to accept, she was moving on.”

“How do you know?”

“We keep in touch,” he says matter-of-factly.

“You mean you’ve been keeping tabs on her.” A flaming ball of anger flares in my stomach. When it comes to River, I’m protective to a fault.

“I keep tabs on anyone who might go snooping.”

That would be River. Like Kyle said, it wasn’t easy for her to accept my death, but eventually she did.

Or had?

Going to see her in the middle of the night probably blew it. Wasn’t the first time I’d risked it either. It’s just that sometimes I miss her more than I love her. I know it sounds messed up, but it’s the truth. If I loved her more, I wouldn’t get near her. But I did. And she saw me.

Fuck. The look in her wide brown eyes. No words, man. No words. It was pure rage plus a bunch of other crap. Like, all the pain in the world mixed with a side of, “Are you kidding me right now?” I’d popped into her room, thinking she’d be in bed asleep, when she walked in the door, flipped on the lights, and literally said, “Fucking Huff. You’re alive. I knew it!”

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Never King’s -The King Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/never-kings-the-king-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Fri, 03 Feb 2023 20:31:43 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/never-kings-the-king-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Advertisement

Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >56

KING IS DEAD, AND NOW THE CHILD HE LEFT BEHIND ISN’T SAFE …

ANSIN
Ding-dong, people. The wicked king is dead. And, yes, I take full credit. King had it coming.
So now that I’m the most ancient, deadly badass on the planet, I can finally get on with my plan. Step one: resurrecting my bloodline.
But to do it, I must win over Jeni, the one woman who can give me powerful children. If only she’d stop holding a grudge. So what if I killed the father of her baby?
Sooner or later she’ll have to forgive me because there are bad, bad things coming her way, and I’m the only one who can protect her.
But will she come around before it’s too late?

JENI
My love for King never made sense, but now that he’s gone, I’m holding it together (barely) for our newborn son. I must be vigilant because my enemies think he belongs to them.
Unfortunately, the only one who can help is dangerous, evil, and a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. Then my worst nightmare happens, and he steps in. No demands. No bartering. Just help.
Has he finally changed his evil ways, or is this a trick to get what he wants? Because without Ansin, my baby

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

CHAPTER ONE

Jeni

A chill crawled up my spine as I hovered over the crib and stared down at my sleeping baby’s thick black hair. He just turned four months—the exact amount of time King had been dead. Though it felt like longer. A lifetime ago.

“God, I miss him, Draco.” I reached down and gently brushed a lock of soft hair from his forehead. “I’m so sorry this is happening to us.” This was not the life I imagined for us. Alone. Danger lurking. No real protection.

King was supposed to be here, watching over us, but no. One minute, he was with me in the delivery room, and the next he was lying in a pool of blood. Dead.

I winced as images of the horrific moment bombarded my mind. I still couldn’t accept he was gone. I mean, really? Just like that? A man who’d defied death for thousands of years had been snuffed out with a simple dagger?

Fine. Not so simple.

Ansin, the man who did the deed just a few feet from my newborn baby, once told me that the dagger had been gifted directly from God to a druid man around the first century. It could cut through any spell, magic, curses—whateverthehell you called the sort of crap that kept people like King from dying for thousands of years. Anyway, the dagger released King and his soul from the world of the living. “Permanently,” Ansin had said.

Bullshit. I wasn’t buying it. Of course, I was struggling to believe a lot of things lately.

“Eh-hem,” said a low deep voice behind me.

With a gasp, I swiveled on my heel. “Ansin, you can’t just come barging in like this.”

With an amused smirk, he leaned his tall, sturdy body against the doorframe. From the look of his windblown dark hair, he’d ridden a motorcycle here. Note how I said a motorcycle. That’s because when Ansin wanted to ride one, he just walked up to whoever and said: “Give me your bike.” They handed it over, and Ansin used it until he was done. He gave zero fucks about returning it, just like he gave no fucks about what anyone thought.

Stone cold to the core.

But Ansin’s off-putting traits didn’t end there, with his scarred-up face and intense dark eyes. Yet I wouldn’t call him ugly. There was definitely something about Ansin that made it difficult to look away, like some exotic creature from another time, marred by years of violence. For the record, Ansin usually carried out the violence—thus the reason he was the last living member of Ten Club, the most depraved group of elitists to ever roam the earth.

“It is my house,” he said, pushing his jaw-length hair from his eyes. “I’ll enter when I choose.”

Not wanting to wake Draco, I slid past Ansin, my shoulder brushing his chest. Prickly goosebumps rolled down my arm. His powers were no joke, which was why I had to be careful around him.

The sounds of heavy biker boots followed me to the kitchen.

I grabbed two white mugs from the cupboard beside the professional-grade stainless steel refrigerator. Ansin had all the money in the world but owned very little aside from this house and the fancy things in it. Which he’d bought for me. Personally, he saw no value in owning material items. Things came; they went. So did people. Power was the only currency he cared for.

“Coffee?” I grabbed a bag of grounds.

“Sure.”

I set up the fancy Italian drip machine and then turned to face him. Under the bright kitchen lights, the golden rings around his dark irises gave off an otherworldly vibe. Even his deep olive skin looked more…not completely human. Yes, to my knowledge, he was a man, but not like any I’d ever met. Not even King could match his mind-control tricks.

I exhaled slowly, determined not to let my fear of Ansin bubble to the surface. “Ansin, we had a deal. I said I would live here, but not with you.”

“I don’t live here.”

“Coming and going as you please is the behavior of a person who does. That’s the problem.”

He flashed a stiff smile. I never knew if he was amused, insulted, or pissed off when he smiled that way.

“I suggest you be more specific with your terms the next time we strike a deal,” he said.

“No,” I protested. “We’re not playing the fine-print game, Ansin. I’m not one of your degenerate Ten Club buddies.” They’d always looked for creative ways to fuck each other over.

“No one’s perfect.”

I offered a disapproving look. “I’m serious, Ansin. I’m not going to write up a two-hundred-page contract for every agreement we make. So you either act honorably, or there will be no more agreements.”

“Funny you should mention that…” He rubbed his scruffy chin, where hairless lines crisscrossed through the stubble. Scars. And they didn’t end there. His entire body, though muscled and dripping with intense power, was a record of his sordid past.

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A Vow Kept (The Wall Men Series #3) Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff http://www.ilovenovels.com/a-vow-kept-the-wall-men-series-3-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Fri, 18 Nov 2022 16:25:00 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-vow-kept-the-wall-men-series-3-read-online-mimi-jean-pamfiloff Genre: Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Series: The Wall Men Series Series by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >60

From New York Times Bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff comes the third book of the Wall Men Trilogy, a suspenseful Dark Fantasy filled with monsters, vampires, giants, and love.

HER PLAN IS SIMPLE: FIGHT LIKE HELL!

I never asked for any of this. Not to be taken to a strange, violent land. Not to be married off to a giant or get stuck between warring kingdoms filled with ravenous monsters.

Nor did I ask to be turned into a vampire and placed on the throne. Ruler of them all. This is crazy!

But now that I see what these creatures have in store for my world, I have to step up, even if it terrifies me. Because no one is coming to save my little town back home or the rest of the world I love despite its flaws. I’m the cavalry.

Lucky me, I have a plan. Unlucky me, I just discovered that my fifty-foot-tall warlord husband might be the key to carrying it out.

If only I could trust him. But I can’t.

And if only I weren’t in love with the ghost of his dead brother. But I am.

And if only I knew how this is going to end. I don’t.

But today, I fight. Today, I risk it all for what I love.

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

CHAPTER ONE

“Lake, you have been our ruler for over a week now. We must summon the citizens of Monsterland for your inaugural address,” says a deep voice I know well, better than I like to admit.

“Fuck off, Gabrio,” I mutter, not bothering to pull my mouth away from the giant who’s donating his rich syrupy blood. It tastes delicious—like warm hot chocolate on a cold day—but nothing, not even this, has managed to sate my hunger since I was turned into a vampire seven days ago.

It doesn’t even bother me that while all the other vampires are inside sleeping, I’m out here in the courtyard in the middle of the day, with nothing more than a flimsy tarp to shield me from the red sun. All I want is blood.

Without even looking, I know Gabrio’s emerald-green eyes are narrowed into tight little slits, and he’s glaring at me.

“At least meet with the leaders, my queen. They’re beginning to wonder if you’re truly strong enough to rule.”

“Like I said,” I snarl, “I’m busy.” I return to the giant’s delicious arm, which is the thickness of my waist. I’ve decided giants—aka War People—are my favorite food. Tastier yet are the Wall Men. They’re the toughest warriors among the giants and are given the honor of guarding the wall that separates this world from mine. For some reason, their blood is even sweeter.

I lower my head, finding a fresh patch of skin. My fangs pierce the flesh, making a pop! sound. Warm, sweet liquid pools in my mouth and slides down my throat. My eyes roll into the back of my head, and I moan with pleasure.

“Lake,” Gabrio barks, “you have eaten enough for the entire Blood People army. You have a duty!”

Duty? Did he just say duty? I did not choose to become queen of Monsterland any more than I chose to be a vampire. If it were up to me, I’d be human again and back home in my world—something they’ve denied me.

“Lake, please.” Gabrio places a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” I swivel my head in his direction. Gabrio has long blond hair and the distinctive, overtly masculine features of a hardened warrior, just like his brothers. Wide shoulders, strong arms, muscled legs, and battle-scarred chests. Unlike his brothers, Alwar and Tiago, Gabrio is not a giant. Not anymore.

I bet he still tastes sweet, like a milkshake.

I lick my lips and stare at his powerful neck.

Before I know it, I’m lunging through the air, my sharp fingernails extended, ready to latch on to Gabrio’s broad shoulders.

The impact of my body sends him flying back onto the stone floor. I immediately go in for the kill, pinning Gabrio’s arms to the ground while straddling him. The thrumming pulse of the vein in his neck fills my ears like a symphony.

Or maybe a dinner bell. I open my mouth and angle my fangs for the fatal jab.

“No you don’t,” says a gravelly voice.

It’s my fucking husband, Alwar, king of the War People and leader of the Wall Men. Here to spoil my fun again.

He lifts me fifty feet in the air, level with his face, pinching his large fingers under my arms. He used to have long deep amber hair with streaks of black and red and a beard that touched his chest—a source of pride for the Wall Men, but now his hair his cropped short, and his face has a thick wash of black scruff. The Wall Men cut their hair before going into battle, and recently, there’s been a lot of warring over control of the wall.

I snap my teeth. “Let me go, Alwar, or I swear I’ll—”

“What?” He cocks a dark brow, his sapphire blue eyes glinting with amusement. “You’ll bite me?”

“Yes!” I hiss. “I’ll drink you to fucking death.”

He laughs into the air, and his bare chest quakes in time with his deep chuckles. “I welcome you to try, wife.”

His dismissiveness strikes a bitter chord. I’ve been through hell for him, even going so far as to secure his freedom after he was captured by the Mountain People, the latest group to attack the wall. I’ve bled, fought, suffered immeasurable loss, and endured the impossible, all to help him and his people.

“This isn’t a joke, you fucking piece of shit.” I try to wiggle free so I can sink my teeth into one of his fingers. But even with my new strength, I’m no match for a three-hundred-and-fifty-year-old giant.

“You are right; this is not a joke. Your bloodlust is about to cost us everything, including the wall. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t. The wall is the only thing protecting my world from this one. And, in case you haven’t noticed, this world is filled with hungry violent monsters. Like me.

“Why, Alwar? Why the hell did you do this to me?” It pisses me off. And apparently, being pissed off makes a vampire’s hunger go through the roof. I’m insatiable.

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