Novella – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Novella – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:24 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.2 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Novella – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 All Bets Are Off Read Online Jessa Kane http://www.ilovenovels.com/all-bets-are-off-read-online-jessa-kane Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:24 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/all-bets-are-off-read-online-jessa-kane Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Novella Authors: Jessa Kane Advertisement

Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >51

Vida works as a maid at Reserve, an ultra-exclusive resort on the Massachusetts coastline. She’s been warned about entitled trust fund boys for years, but when she catches the ultimate rich boy’s eye, he’s anything but typical. Tripp Sterling is a billionaire and comes from a vastly different world than Vida. One of yachts and glitzy parties and Ivy League educations. There are strict rules against guests socializing with staff, but the moment Tripp sees the stunning maid, he’s consumed. He’s going to have Vida, no matter the cost. But first he’ll have to convince her to enter his world of wealth…an often judgmental world that sticks to their own and doesn’t like change

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

ONE

Vida

I push the laundry cart down the luxurious corridor, stopping outside of room 721. Using the edge of my universal key card, I tap lightly on the heavy cream door.

“Housekeeping.”

Tucking the card back into the pocket of my uniform, I rub the stiffness from my neck and wait for a response or any indication that the occupant is still inside the room. There isn’t one. And honestly, there shouldn’t be anyone inside. It’s a gorgeous July day outside on the coast of Massachusetts, the waves lapping gently against the cliffs, the gulls calling to one another gently. All the trust fund kids who arrived today are at a welcome soiree on the beach, sipping the resort’s signature cordials and soaking in the sunshine.

Technically, I’m not employed as a housekeeper for Reserve, the Northeast’s premier beach resort designed for the upper class, but I have been filling in for my aunt a lot. Her arthritis is causing her to come home in too much physical pain lately, so I stepped in and took over.

What is she going to do in the fall when I start my freshman year at Dartmouth?

Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I proceed to gather the towels I need off the cart. My mind is still on my aunt, however. Peggy raised me from the age of ten, and she’s worked around the clock to support us both, through bad times and good. I probably wouldn’t even have applied to colleges if she hadn’t insisted. Can I really leave her when the time comes? Who is going to cover her shifts when she’s weakened with pain?

Setting aside the worry for later, I let myself into the room with an armful of towels.

I’m brought up short when I find the curtains are drawn, leaving the room dark. Most of the new arrivals dropped off their luggage and went straight to the beach. Warily, I turn on the lamp to my right, which is perched on a modern, oak desk with gold hardware. My eyes widen a little at the size of the room that is revealed. Is this the presidential suite? I don’t think I’ve ever cleaned a room this large. This isn’t even the bedroom. It’s merely the seating area.

“Hello?” I call, wetting my lips. “Housekeeping.”

Silence.

No water running.

“Just leave the towels and go, Vida,” I whisper, advancing toward the hallway, the sounds of the ocean growing louder as I draw closer to the bedroom. Based on the orientation of the room, the sleeping quarters must overlook the Atlantic. How incredible it must be to wake up in such a room. Why would anyone want to keep the sunlight out?

Reminding myself that rich kid behavior is none of my business and I’m just here to clean, I step soundlessly into the bedroom and gasp, barely able to keep my jaw off the floor.

It’s extraordinary.

Modern in whites and creams and golds, the curtains billow gently behind the mostly closed windows. As if someone didn’t want the light, but they wanted the sound of waves. A finger of discomfort creeps up my spine at the feeling that someone is either in the room or only recently departed. The maids are supposed to operate without being seen or heard. We’re the unseen facilitators of comfort, not meant to be underfoot. Ever.

If I were to jeopardize Peggy’s position at the resort, I’d never forgive myself.

No one is here. Calm down.

Taking a deep breath, I sidestep toward the bathroom and lower the heavy, carved gold handle, pushing inside⁠—

A man stands at the double sink, his hands planted on the alabaster marble, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His head is bowed forward, giant noise-canceling headphones covering his ears—and the music must be blasting, because I can hear the bass from five feet away. No wonder he didn’t hear me calling.

I’m frozen in indecision. Run? Make myself known and apologize?

Oh God. What do I do?

Trapped by uncertainty, I can’t help but notice the man I’ve just intruded on is…Something to behold. To call him a work of art would be an understatement.

He’s easily six foot four, generously muscled. His hands and bare feet are huge. Tension tightens the cords and sinew of his broad shoulders and triceps. Even without seeing his face, I can deduce that he belongs in a grand room such as this. It’s a room fit for a lord or a king. A god among men. That’s exactly what he is. But gods come armed with wrath, and that means I need to get my butt out of here. Unseen.

Embracing my flight instinct, I back up a step⁠—

His head lifts. Whips around.

I’m pinned by a pair of turbulent blue eyes.

My breath jams in my lungs and I drop the towels.

I’ve never seen more attractive features in my life. Not even in the movies.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >51

Advertisement
Autumn’s Winterhaven – A Novella Read Online Samantha Young http://www.ilovenovels.com/autumns-winterhaven-a-novella-read-online-samantha-young Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:19 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/autumns-winterhaven-a-novella-read-online-samantha-young Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: Samantha Young Advertisement

Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >32

When my friends invited me on their annual trip to Colorado, I decided leaving behind Glasgow and a trail of bad relationships for some guy-free time at Winterhaven Ski Resort was just the thing I needed to find myself.

However, I wasn’t counting on colliding with Hudson Ward on the slopes. I’ve never met anyone like him. Hudson is confident, smart, with a wicked sense of humor, and he makes the men I’ve dated seem like boys.
My intense attraction to him puts me on the defense because being open-hearted in the past has only gotten mine broken.
Yet it becomes increasingly difficult to resist a man who is not only determined to seduce me, but is adamant about helping me embrace the person I am so I can find my purpose in life.

I know I shouldn’t fall for Hudson. It can only end badly.

After all our lives are divided by an ocean and our inevitable separation is just another heart break away…

Previously published under the title Hold On: A Novella

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

1

Winterhaven Ski Resort, Colorado

February

The fresh, cold air stung my cheeks as I stared down the snowy slope through my ski goggles.

“Bloody Nora,” I muttered under my breath, watching mostly kids skiing on what they called the bunny slope. There were a few adult beginners but they were with ski instructors.

“You should go out with an instructor,” Catie had said a mere twenty minutes ago, seeming concerned as we strapped on our boots at the rental just across from the lodge.

I’d seen the young instructors, probably college kids making a few extra dollars during the ski season, and they seemed perfectly competent. However, beneath my laidback façade was a great deal of stubbornness and I believed I could do this alone.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t skied before.

I had.

I’d also broken my leg the last time I’d strapped on a pair of skis.

“Bloody Nora,” I repeated.

What was I doing here?

Not here in Colorado—here. I only had to lift my gaze over the snowy mountains to know why anyone would want to visit Winterhaven. I meant, what the hell was I doing here? Here in snow boots clicked into the skis, wearing goggles, a hat, thick gloves, and an admittedly adorable emerald green snow suit I couldn’t resist buying.

Because what I really wanted to do was go back to the lodge and wait for my afternoon spa appointments to begin. I wanted to lounge by the pool with a glass of wine and write down my life plan. That’s what I was here for. To get some space from my life back in Glasgow and “find myself” in the snowy hills of Colorado. Like a heroine in a Reese Witherspoon movie. Just me and my thoughts. And the occasional third wheeling of Catie and her husband Kyle’s annual holiday.

My friend and her hubby were currently on the top slopes as they were experienced skiers.

“Face your fears, Autumn,” Kyle had said before we got on the chairlift that would drop me on the bunny slope.

Face my fears. Yes, I knew that’s what this moment was supposed to symbolize.

When I was fourteen I’d broken my leg on a high school skiing trip and I’d vowed never to get on skis again. But this year had been rough and I’d grown increasingly afraid of facing the fact that I was floundering in life. Strapping on a pair of skis was supposed to help me face those fears. If I could ski again, I could get my life back in order.

But…

“What utter rubbish,” I huffed.

Skiing was rubbish! I hated it. You only faced a fear if it was going to make your life better. How was skiing going to make my life better?

A massage.

A massage would make my life infinitely better.

Decided, I pulled my ski poles out of the snow with a little too much vigor and immediately threw my weight off balance, my skis flying out from under me.

“Oh…oh…” I tried to right my center of gravity but threw myself too far forward. “Oh sh—” Suddenly I was heading down the slope. And I was heading for a woman and a ski instructor and I couldn’t remember how to stop!

“Out of the way!” I yelled in warning.

The ski instructor, his expression masked by snow sunglasses, looked up at me and then, instead of getting out of my way, got deliberately in it.

I smacked straight into his large body, winding myself and knocking him off his skis, taking him to the snow.

“Oof!” he grunted, sounding more than a little bit winded himself.

Mortified, I tried to clamber off him. Unfortunately, my knee connected somewhere it shouldn’t.

“Fuck,” he wheezed.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Somehow, I got off him without causing him any further injury and righted myself on my skis as he curled into a fetal position in the snow. “Are you okay?”

He waved me off, apparently unable to speak.

I looked at the woman who hovered over him, wincing. “Is he okay?”

She shot me a dirty look. “Does he look okay? If you can’t ski, you shouldn’t be out here without an instructor.”

“I was trying to leave. I slipped and lost control…” I looked back down at the instructor who was taking his time getting up onto his skis. He braced his hands on his knees for a moment and then straightened, his lips pinched together in pain.

It was then I realized how big he was. And even without being able to see his eyes because they were covered by snow sunglasses, I could tell he was quite a bit older than the rest of the boy-men instructors. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.” He put his hands to his hips as I looked up at him. I was tall for a woman at five foot nine but this guy was tall. He had to be at least six foot three. And broad shouldered.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >32

Advertisement
Bred by the Cowboys – Wild Rides Read Online Stephanie Brother http://www.ilovenovels.com/bred-read-online-the-cowboys-wild-rides-read-online-stephanie-brother Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:06 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/bred-read-online-the-cowboys-wild-rides-read-online-stephanie-brother Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Stephanie Brother Advertisement

Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

One wild night between two rugged cowboys… which one has put a baby in me?

Brookes and Mason Caldwell are cowboys who ride hard, fight harder, and take what they want. I should’ve known better. But I wanted one impulsive, filthy, mind-altering night with Mason’s mouth on my neck and Brookes watching from the shadows like he couldn’t decide whether to join, or just make me beg.

When they find out what’s growing in my belly, they insist I move to their ranch.

They say it doesn’t matter whose baby it is. That I belong to them. That they’ll share.

But the idea of a life with two men like them? It’s reckless. Impossible.

They want me between them, held open, keeping them warm in the most intimate ways, and dripping with everything they’re willing to give.

They like to edge me, watch me beg, and make me fall apart over and over again.

The way they are should terrify me, but I can’t stop thinking about what it feels like with both of them around me, inside me, owning me.

But can a girl like me really fit between two rough ranchers with darker needs, and build a family that was never supposed to be?

In Rockwell Ridge, scandals don’t stay secret for long. Will the truth break us… or bind us together for good?

Hold on to your horse, because this kinky, forbidden, fast-burn, cowboy menage romance features a secret baby, found family, and two brothers who want to keep one woman full and on the edge

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

Chapter 1

Janey

Spending an entire evening trying to avoid staring at Brookes and Mason Fletcher would be easier if they didn’t make it so hard to look anywhere else.

We’re at a first birthday party, for heaven's sake. Not a bar or a club where ogling members of the opposite sex is expected.

And there has definitely been ogling in both directions.

The party wound down, with most of the other guests hitting the road, but not Brookes and Mason. They sit on their cousins’ porch swing, sipping beer like the whole wide stretch of sprawling land and open night air was built around them.

Mason leans back with one arm stretched along the backrest, his posture loose in a way that still manages to feel deliberate. Brookes sits beside him, his body more contained, his weight angled slightly forward, his attention sharper.

Two brothers. Same blood. Totally different gravity.

And I’m drawn to both.

I lean against the doorway, transfixed in a way I haven’t been over a member of the opposite sex in far too long.

Mason draws the eye first. His shirt pulls across his chest when he shifts, the fabric stretched, hinting at the thick, solid muscle underneath. The sleeves strain slightly at his upper arms, exposing sun-browned skin and a faded line of ink curling and disappearing beneath the fabric. His forearm rests along the back of the swing, strong and marked, with a pale scar cutting across it. His fingers flex idly, as if he's always half a second away from doing something with them.

Something filthy and amazing, probably. Or tough. He looks like the kind of man who could wring the neck of a wild beast or a violent man without breaking a sweat.

My gaze lingers on him longer than it should. Longer than I mean it to.

Brookes is different. He’s quieter in a way that makes him harder to read and, somehow, harder to look away from once I start. Where Mason spreads his arms and legs wide to take up space, Brookes seems to hold himself in, like everything about him is controlled. His sleeves are rolled as well, though the muscle there is leaner and more defined; the kind that’s formed by repetition rather than force. There’s a small, almost hidden mark at his wrist, ink that disappears when his hand shifts, subtle enough that it feels private. His hands rest loosely in his lap, though there is nothing soft about them. They look as capable, rough, and familiar with work as his brother’s.

I’m ogling.

Again.

Heat creeps up the back of my neck as I drag my gaze away, suddenly very aware of myself in a way I have been all night. Of how I must look. Of how I must seem.

Eager, probably. Hungry. Shameless.

Desperate to be grabbed by those hands and held down. Made to do things I really want to do, even though I’d pretend otherwise.

This is ridiculous.

I'm not a teenager. I don’t lose my composure over a couple of men who must be at least a decade older than me. I might be young, but I have a good head on my shoulders and a set of boundaries that keep me away from temptation and danger.

My eyes flick back anyway.

Mason shifts, dragging his boot across the porch floor, the movement slow and unhurried, pulling the denim of his jeans tight across his thighs, and the ease of it sends a small, unwelcome ripple through me. It’s his confidence. The complete lack of self-consciousness, as though he knows exactly who and what he is and has never once questioned it.

Brookes glances toward the house, and for half a second, our eyes almost meet. I look away before they do, my pulse picking up for no good reason.

Except there is a reason.

It sits low in my stomach, warm and restless, spreading slowly the longer I stand here pretending I'm unaffected and in control.

I shift my weight, pressing my thighs together slightly, as if that might ease the ache.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it makes me more aware of it. I’m warm and swollen down there, and maybe a little slick from all my filthy cowboy-centered fantasies.

Which is… deeply inconvenient.

I draw in a quiet breath, trying to center myself, though my attention drifts back out to the porch like it has a mind of its own.

Two brothers. Two rugged, older, imposing ranchers.

A very bad idea waiting to happen.

The worst part is how little that thought deters me.

“Earth to Janey.”

I jump, turning back into the kitchen to find my best friend Joelle watching me with a knowing expression, “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t hear you come in. It’s been a long day.”

“Mm-hmm.” Her tone carries enough skepticism to make my face warm. “You planning on going to bed anytime soon, or are you going to keep pretending you aren’t interested in those two hunks of men out there?”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Advertisement
Final Verdict (Verdict Trilogy #1) Read Online Whitney G http://www.ilovenovels.com/final-verdict-verdict-trilogy-1-read-online-whitney-g Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:48 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/final-verdict-verdict-trilogy-1-read-online-whitney-g Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Novella, Virgin Authors: Whitney G. Series: Verdict Trilogy Series by Whitney G
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >22

I don't lose cases.
I don't lose sleep.
And I certainly don't lose my mind over women.

Why would I?

For the past twelve years, I've built a reputation as the attorney people hire when they want to win. I don't believe in distractions, complications, or anything remotely resembling a relationship.

My life works exactly the way I want it to.

Until her.

This woman was supposed to be a stranger.
A drunk college girl who stumbled into my Porsche and assumed I was her Uber driver...

Yet somehow, I keep running into her.

Every other day...

Then I find out she's been working at my firm.

I should've fired her immediately—for constantly tempting me with her cherry red lips—but I didn't.

I let her stay on for my next trial, let her keep challenging me until, for the first time in my career, I'm not sure winning is worth it.

And that's a problem.

Because some cases have consequences long after the verdict is read...

Final Verdict is Book 1 in a brand new legal romance series

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

PLAYLIST

Hate That I Made You Love Me by Ariana Grande

Ur Heartbeat by Jessie Reyes

Tread Carefully by SZA

Shabang by Drake

I Don’t Wanna by Aaliyah

Shut It Down by Drake

Often by The Weeknd

Needy by Ariana Grande

OPENING STATEMENT (N.):

THE EXPLANATION BY THE ATTORNEYS FOR BOTH SIDES AT THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIAL OF WHAT WILL BE PROVED DURING THE TRIAL.

JAMESON

Every lawyer is a liar disguised in a smile and a threatening three-piece suit—a human snake that’s willing to swallow the worst client’s case for the right price.

What’s left of their tortured hearts is tucked deep in their pockets, all because the pain of living from verdict to verdict is far too much to keep in their chests.

Contrary to what we’re taught in law school, the courtroom is not a place to fight for justice; it’s a stage where the jury is the ultimate audience, and the best actor wins.

Unfortunately, I have yet to receive all the awards and accolades I deserve, but my undefeated record speaks for itself.

It’s only during moments like today, for cases like this, that I wonder if my A-list acting can overcome how much the jury despises my definitely guilty client…

“Spit out the gum,” I say to her. “And don’t roll your eyes when the judge reads the verdict.”

“It’s not gum.” She sticks out a tongue full of crushed red candy. “These are cherry Pop Rocks.”

“Spit them out. Now.”

“Okay.” She winks and bends down under our table, staring into my eyes as she drools into the trash can. Just like she drooled over an undercover police officer’s cock in exchange for drugs—the very incident that brought us here.

“There.” She licks her lips as she sits up. “Happy, Mr. Tate?”

I hope he locks your ass up for life.

“All rise for the jury!” the bailiff announces.

I stand to my feet and watch their faces, trying to see which way they voted, but their faces are stoic as stone.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks.

“Yes, Your Honor, we have,” the foreperson says.

The judge motions for the bailiff to retrieve the form, and out of the corner of my eye I catch one of the jurors—a brunette woman in the back—shaking her head at my client.

Dammit.

“On the first count of solicitation of prostitution,” the judge reads, “this jury finds the defendant, Clarissa Ridgeland, not guilty.”

Miss Ridgeland squeezes my hand.

“On the second count of unlawful possession of a controlled substance—the jury finds this defendant not guilty.”

Stunned, I slowly nod as he rattles off his appreciation for everyone. Then—as usual—I wait for someone to finally walk through the side doors to hand me an Oscar.

It never comes.

“Court is adjourned.” The judge bangs his gavel, and my client doesn’t even say thank you. She rushes out of the room at the speed of light.

You’re welcome…

Sighing, I slide my notes into a briefcase and slam it shut.

As I’m turning around to leave, I find myself staring right into the glaring eyes of the state prosecutor.

“Well, hello, Julia,” I say. “Tough loss for you today. No hard feelings.”

“Feelings?” She scoffs. “I’m shocked you even know what those are, Jameson.”

“Me too.” I smile. “I’ve read about them a lot, though.”

“Okay, seriously.” She shakes her head. “How the hell do you sleep at night?”

“I turn off the lights and occasionally put on some rain sounds. Would you like a link to my playlist?”

“I would like you to get fucked.”

“I don’t need any help in that department.”

“I mean, get ‘fucked over’—as in ruined.” She glares at me. “Your client was guilty as sin, and everyone in this courtroom knew it.”

“Everyone except the jury, apparently…”

“They gave the wrong verdict this time.” She stabs a finger against my chest, enunciating every syllable. “Protecting the guilty will come back to haunt you when you least expect it, Jameson. Trust me.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to help me walk across the street.”

“Sooner or later, the devil will come to address the debt you owe him.”

“Do you know if he’ll be paying via cash or check?”

Her face reddens and she lets out an unsteady breath. Then, as if she knows she’ll never—ever—win a war of words with me, her lips curve into an uneven smile.

“Until we meet again, Mr. Jameson,” she says.

Until you lose again, you mean.

I hold back my thoughts and push open the gate for her.

“Have a good night, Miss Bantam.”

She stomps past the pews and out of my sight.

I take one last look around at the empty courtroom, waiting to feel a morsel of regret for tampering with Lady Justice’s scales for a win today, but nothing comes.

The system fucking owes me…

Swinging my briefcase over the gate, I walk past the pews and step into the hallway.

“That prosecutor lady is right, you know?” Clarissa Ridgeland suddenly stands up from a bench. “I heard everything she said to you.”

“I was hoping you’d disappeared somewhere I’d never have to see you again,” I say. “Please go enjoy your freedom.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >22

Advertisement
Royal Vows Read Online Lucy Darling http://www.ilovenovels.com/royal-vows-read-online-lucy-darling Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:56 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/royal-vows-read-online-lucy-darling Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Lucy Darling Advertisement

Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

“I’d give up a whole kingdom for just one taste of you.”

Mable Kittrick spent her childhood picking up the pieces of her mother’s disasters, learning that control equals survival. But when her carefully planned life starts feeling like a cage, and people call her boring and rigid, she does something reckless for the first time in her life. She books a solo trip to an island, with no itinerary, no plan, and no idea what awaits… What could possibly go wrong?
Caldwell Montclair is looking forward to his brother’s spontaneous wedding. Not only is it a temporary escape from the weight of a crown he doesn’t yet wear, but maybe, for once, everyone will focus on a love life that isn’t his own. That was until he met her. Mable is too innocently sweet and far too naive to be left all alone. It’s only right that he protects her… and keeps her for himself.

Mable doesn’t have a clue who he is. But he knows exactly who she is: his country’s future queen, his wife-to-be, and very soon the mother of his heirs if he has his way.
He made a deal with his own deception to have her. There isn’t a chance in hell he’ll let her go. Even if it requires hiding his crown or becoming the devil himself to keep her. Caldwell knows that if he can just get her to the island before she discovers the truth, she won’t be able to escape.

And he always gets his way. Because some vows, once made, last forever.

This series is dedicated to timeless love stories. It’s got all the tropes you desire, with all of my usual over-the-top alphas and sweetness

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

Chapter One

MABLE

The last thing anyone would ever call me is spontaneous. I don’t even care for the word. It causes me anxiety. That is likely because if I were to choose a single word to describe my mother, it would be precisely that.

I never knew what was to come next with her. I’d wake up one morning, and she’d be packing our things and saying we’re spending a month in Amsterdam and then going off to Japan, and who knows where next. Even with my mom being rather well-off, I always felt as though I was scrambling to make sure she had her passport or had booked her flights.

Once we showed up at the airport, and she hadn’t planned anything, saying it would be more fun that way. It wasn’t, not to me. I learned quickly that I needed to be the responsible one. That stuck, and now I’m the way I am, and I rather like it. There are no surprises. I am the antithesis of my mom. I couldn’t tell you what country she’s in right now. Sure, she calls and checks in, but me having gone off to college was best for both of us.

I was accepted into one of the best universities in the world. Those years in college helped my relationship with my mother, even if I do still feel like I’m her parent at times. How I am doesn’t bother me. With how much we traveled growing up, I never got the chance to make friends. I’d struck gold when I got Truly as my roommate. She didn’t mind my quirks.

The university was an all-girl one. With Truly already married, at least on paper, we weren’t out trying to pick up guys. It was not until my final semester of college that I became aware of how far behind I was in terms of dating. Out of curiosity, I downloaded a few apps to see what was out there.

Big mistake. I’d gone on a total of two dates, each with a different man but both equally terrible. I also struggled with flirting in messages. I had more than one of them tell me I was boring, cold, and lacked personality. That I wasn’t pretty enough to be so dull.

Ouch. When multiple people who aren’t connected are telling you something about yourself, you need to take a look inside. I’m not really sure how to do that, but I’m taking inspiration from both my mom and Truly.

I’m going to put myself out there, and there is no time better than now with graduation fresh behind me and my best friend off on a honeymoon. It’s the perfect time to step out and do something I wouldn’t normally do. That’s why I’m now standing in an airport staring up at the upcoming flights, my hand on my luggage in a death grip.

I spot my flight, double-checking my gate for the tenth time to confirm before making my way toward it. There is no reason to have anxiety over this. I don’t have anything pending I need to handle. I’m good to go. I try to reassure myself, but it’s not helping. The urge to tuck tail and not go is strong, but I know I need to do this.

I told myself when I landed I’d pick a hotel. That would make it more spontaneous, but I’m starting to have major regrets. Maybe I can’t do this. What if I land and there isn’t one with availability? Then I’ll be stuck with nowhere to go. I’m sure that’s when a hurricane would roll in, and I packed nothing for a hurricane or even googled what I would need for one.

A group of men’s loud cheers pulls my attention. They are all taking shots and appear to be celebrating. When they notice me staring, I quickly look away.

“Hey!”

“Let us buy you a shot or two.”

“Come on over, sweetheart.” They each start to call out. I glance behind me, not sure who they are speaking to.

“They’re talking to you,” a deep voice rumbles from beside me. “I’ll be buying her drinks,” the man tells them, making them all grumble.

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth at the sight of him. Good lord. My fingers tighten around my suitcase handle until the plastic ends bite into my palm. I am suddenly aware of every choice I made that morning: the practical sneakers, the comfortable sweater that had seemed so sensible at seven a.m., and the glasses I wore because contacts dry out on planes. I look like someone who checked the weather three times before leaving the house. So basically, I look like I normally do on a daily basis.

As for this man—and that’s what he is: all man—there is a lot to appreciate. Dark, messy, short hair and even darker eyes. The stranger gives me a slow smile, making one dimple appear that almost takes me out right there.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

Advertisement
Sun Kissed Nemesis Read Online Willow Winters http://www.ilovenovels.com/sun-kissed-nemesis-read-online-willow-winters Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:39 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/sun-kissed-nemesis-read-online-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, Novella Authors: Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 62(@200wpm)___ 50(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >14

IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A SUMMER GETAWAY TO CALM MY NERVES…

instead the next door neighbor, my landlord, has other plans.
I know I’m renting from him and there are rules, but I can’t deny there’s something there.
A spark that I can’t refuse.
He makes me want to scream at him and at the same time kiss him.
Parker, tanned and muscular, tall and handsome, is as sexy as they come but also my sun-kissed nemesis.

Maybe the summer brought me here for other reasons

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

PARKER

It’s too fucking early.

My alarm rings, and I slap my phone again. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes is all I need. Rubbing my sore eyes, I drop back to the pillow and ignore the light creeping in the shades.

Sleep takes me under, but it doesn’t seem like more than a few seconds go by before the alarm rings again. I turn it off with a groan. It feels like the middle of the night. My head’s slow from getting such shitty sleep. All I want to do is give up and spend the morning napping, but checking the time, I know I have to get out of bed and get moving. Maybe coffee will help.

The bed groans as I sit up and pull the shades open. The sun’s coming through the window. A new day is getting started. It’s time for me to get started too, even if last night was hell.

I glare through my bedroom wall, which was where most of the sound came from. My bedroom backs up to her living room. I tried everything. Headphones. A pillow over my head. A white noise app. Nothing worked, because the people in the house next door were throwing a raging party. The music went on and on and on. Girls shrieked on and off, though I couldn’t tell what they were saying. All I know is they were too fucking loud until nearly 4am.

I kept thinking it would end. Five more minutes, and they’d get sick of the music. Ten more minutes, and they’d run out of things to talk about. Fifteen more minutes, and they’d run out of beer or whatever they were drinking.

And, yeah, I could have been the asshole who called the cops, but then I’d be the asshole who called the cops. Worse than that, I’d be the asshole landlord who called the cops. They’d know it was me, or they’d find out, and word spreads fast in a little beach town like this one. Especially in the early spring when things are still slow. Who the hell knows what would happen if I became the town’s asshole landlord who called the cops because of one party? Especially when I’m only thirty-two and I’ve been known to throw my own parties.

Wouldn’t help my art shop, that’s for sure. Just thinking about the shop reminds me that I need to be grateful I could rent out the place next door.

I need a shower. I need a reset. I need to get dressed and get my head on straight so I’ll be ready for work. I need to take advantage of every minute of sunlight this spring and summer, because the store barely survived the winter months.

Things are always slower in a beach town during the winter. Everybody knows that. But last winter was brutal and without the property rented, I had to dip into savings for the first time since I moved here. The store was barely able to keep its doors open, and that’s only because I paid myself less to help keep the bills up to date.

I got through December by telling myself that it would all turn around come summer. I focused on painting and collecting pieces from other artists. I told myself everything would get better as soon as the weather warmed up and people started coming to the beach.

That’s exactly what I’m doing. Every day this spring counts, and I’m taking advantage of the time by going to where the people are: on the beach.

Including meeting the contractor to fix up the bathroom in… I check the clock, 45 minutes.

In the shower, I wash my hair extra hard and scrub my face, then try out a few smiles.

It’s going to be a great day. Tourists are already trickling in. I’ll sell enough pieces to get ahead for the week, and by the end of the week, I’ll be ahead for the month, and by the end of the month, it won’t matter if the winter is slow. I’ll have a cushion to get me and the store through. I’ll have a safety net.

One day at a time.

I towel off and get dressed, then head out to the kitchen. Extra-strong coffee will have to pull its weight today. I drink it too hot, because I’m already running a little late—I would have been up an hour ago if it wasn’t for the party.

I grab a few pieces from the bedroom and carry them out to my old blue chevy truck. The rest of the stuff I need is either at the store or in the trunk already, so there’s not much more packing to do. One inhale and I’m already feeling better. The salty air, the warmth from the sun. Hell, even the call from the seagulls is soothing this morning. I get it all put away, the pieces divided by little strips of foam I keep back there just for this, and shut the gate.

<<<<1 2 3 11 >14

Advertisement
Tell Me You’re Mine (Seattle’s Most Eligible #1) Read Online Tory Baker http://www.ilovenovels.com/tell-me-youre-mine-seattles-most-eligible-1-read-online-tory-baker Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:37 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/tell-me-youre-mine-seattles-most-eligible-1-read-online-tory-baker Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Tory Baker Series: Seattle's Most Eligible Series by Tory Baker
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

I needed a wife on paper. What I got is so much more.

As a billionaire venture capitalist and part-owner of Sterling Capital, I don’t leave things to chance. Every deal is calculated. Every move serves a purpose. That is, until the board starts questioning my image. They want someone settled down—someone who’s stable and committed. So, I treat the situation the same way I treat everything else: as a business transaction.

It should be simple, no feelings, no complications, and no exceptions.
Until I meet her.
Cory Pierson is everything I never knew I wanted: fiercely independent, unimpressed by money, and challenges me at every turn.
Our marriage is meant to be temporary, but the longer she wears my ring, the more the lines blur. She’s no longer just my wife on paper. She’s the woman I can’t let go

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

prologue

CORINNE

Two Weeks Earlier

“Thank you,” I tell the driver as I step out of the hired car at the entrance of Aura. The little satin black dress I’m wearing hugs my waist before drifting over my hips and outline every curve of my body. The fine lace-edged sweetheart neckline adds a touch of softness to the otherwise slip of material. My shoulders are bare save for the thin spaghetti straps, and the hem brushing the tops of my thighs makes the dress feel less like clothing and more like temptation wrapped in silk. It’s effortless in looks and style.

“Have a good night,” he responds as I close the door. With my purse in one hand and my phone in the other, I make my way toward the entrance, where people are waiting in line to get in, along with a hefty cover charge. If it weren’t for Alex and Jett and their infinite connections, I’d have to fork out more money than I care to spend on a girls’ night out.

While Alex works at Sterling Capital with Seraphina, the same can’t be said for myself. Oh no, sitting behind a computer isn’t my idea of fun. I’d much rather be on my feet all day, wearing compression socks beneath my scrubs and a surgical cap on my head. I once had big aspirations to be a head chef in a five-star Michelin restaurant. Went through the first six months of school and absolutely hated it. My love of cooking wasn’t enough to deal with the grueling screaming non-stop when you so much as make the slightest mistake in the kitchen. A million times worse than nursing school and dealing with hothead doctors.

I avoid the line and head straight for the bouncer. A couple of people make comments, and while I feel slightly bad, you couldn’t pay me to be in their shoes on a Wednesday night.

“Name?” a big beefy guy asks when he notices me.

“Cory Pierson.” He doesn’t look up from his clipboard, only gives me a quick nod, then another bouncer opens the door to allow me inside the ultra-luxurious, uber-classy nightclub. Three floors of a glass and steel tower overlooking the glittering Seattle skyline. The man floor pulses with energy. Music thrums through the hidden speakers, and the bass vibrates under my bright red stilettos as I walk further in.

Alex and Jett worked their magic once again, I think to myself as I walk along the perimeter. Velvet booths are housed by socialites, athletes, aspiring influencers, and everyday people. Yet the true elite never stays downstairs. Hidden behind a wall of smoked glass is an elevator, which will take me upstairs, and once I step inside, the atmosphere changes completely. The music softens, the pulse isn’t as jarring, and the crowd disappears.

“Cory!” Jett exclaims when the doors open what seems like a nanosecond later. The breathtaking views of Elliot Bay along with the city lights stretching into the darkness are elegant and seductive all at once.

“Hey, Jett, Alex, where’s everyone else?” The plush ivory sofa in a private alcove is one of many in the room, each designed to shield conversations from others. Rare artwork hangs along the walls with soft golden lighting that is used as a spotlight. And on the marble table where the girls are sitting are two silver buckets filled with a chilling champagne bottle each.

“Romy is late, per usual,” Alex says when I give her a hug.

“Mischa can’t make it, something about her sister needing help with babysitting,” Jett takes account for our other friend.

“And Genny, along with Seraphina, should be here shortly. Though our girl Sera will probably be over there with all of the head honchos.” Alex nods her head to the other end of the room. That’s when I see him, and not through a boardroom window or on the cover of a magazine at a newsstand. Dominic “Dom” Mercer in the flesh is a whole different story entirely.

The suit doesn’t make the man, the man makes the suit.

A five-figure Brioni suit, black and sharply tailored, hugs his frame to perfection. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, exposing a peek of his chest. I somehow manage to plant my ass in the sumptuous seating without making a total mockery of myself.

I continue my perusal of the devastatingly handsome man, and when his gaze shifts and his multi-faceted blend of hazel and ember eyes meet mine, a sudden jolt slides down my spine. Dom is all broad shoulders, powerful athletic frame, and sculpted chest. His dark, short, neatly cropped hair, an effortlessly faded style, matches the man. Then there’s his chiseled jaw, clean shaven cheeks, and a mole that makes him all the hotter on the left side of his cheek.

“Oh no, girl, do not go there.” Genny slides in beside me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

Advertisement
The Cowboy and the Bridesmaid Read Online Hope Ford http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-cowboy-and-the-bridesmaid-read-online-hope-ford Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:27 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/the-cowboy-and-the-bridesmaid-read-online-hope-ford Genre: Alpha Male, Novella Authors: Hope Ford Advertisement

Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 10886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 44(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >12

He was my best friend’s older brother.
My neighbor. My first crush.

And completely off-limits.

The gruff, possessive cowboy next door made one thing clear when I was younger—
kissing me was a mistake.

So I stayed away.
Got over him.
Moved on… or at least, I tried.

Until he shows up years later, looking at me like I’m not off-limits anymore.

Like I’m the one he can’t walk away from.

Now he’s the one chasing me.
The one tearing down every boundary he once put in place.

But I remember what it felt like when he pushed me away.
Like I wasn’t enough. Like I never would be.

If I give him my heart again—

This time, he’d better keep it.

The Cowboy and the Bridesmaid was originally released as Ruby and Austin in A Bridal Party To Remember

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

Chapter 1

Austin

Ilean back in the seat of the posh motel, tense. I’m not comfortable trading in the open range for the stifling confines of this immaculate, if somewhat uppity, hotel. I definitely don’t look the part as I take in my worn cowboy boots that are scuffing up the glistening floor. It’s no wonder I keep getting stared at.

But I’m determined to stay.

For two days I’ve sat in the lobby of this hotel, waiting for a glimpse of Ruby Sutton. She was supposed to be here yesterday, and after a little eavesdropping, I’ve discovered that she had something come up at work and she’s arriving tonight. So here I sit, waiting, and not patiently.

It’s been seven years, so a day or two shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Ever since I talked to my younger sister Becky this past week and she laid it all out for me, I’ve been antsy and on edge. She’s pregnant with her first child, and it seems to have made her even more sensitive and nostalgic than ever. Which, thank fuck, I guess - otherwise I might have gone another seven years without knowing that Ruby Sutton, Becky’s childhood best friend, left Whiskey Run because of me.

I lean my head back on the soft cushion and clench my eyes shut. There are so many what ifs that are going through my head, but I can’t focus on one of them. The only thing that I keep hearing is Becky’s voice and our conversation about Ruby.

There’s something bothering her lately, but she’s not talking to me about it.

That was what started it all. Becky is worried about Ruby, and just like every other time I’ve heard her name, I tensed up. “She hasn’t been home in a long time. Maybe she should visit her mom and dad.”

Frustrated and rubbing her large pregnant belly, Becky rolled her eyes at me. “She avoids coming anywhere near you or Whiskey Run since she left seven years ago.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised. “What do I have to do with her staying away?”

Becky looked at me, and the knowing look on her face told me exactly what she was thinking. She knew about the kiss I’d shared with Ruby. Even though I’d never mentioned a word about it, she knew. Which means Ruby told her.

“She loved you, Austin,” she huffed at me.

I started to say something, but she held her hand up to stop me. “And don’t tell me that she was eighteen and didn’t know what love was. She did, and when you told her you weren’t interested, you broke her heart.”

As I sit here in this posh resort, everything Becky told me comes back with a vengeance.

She loved you... really loved you.

She went to school in New York because distance would be the only thing that could help her move on.

She asks about you all the time.

She still hasn’t forgotten about you.

That was last week, and I almost went to New York right then until Becky told me about the wedding. One of their friends was getting married in the Keys, and Ruby was going to be here all week. It took some doing, but I worked my ass off on the ranch to get ready to take the week off. I called in my cousins. They’re bull riders, but they arranged it where they would all take shifts helping me on the ranch.

For seven years, I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d taken her up on what she was offering. Ruby was a temptation like I’ve never known, and on her eighteenth birthday, I bought her a locket and delivered it to her at her father’s ranch. I could have sent it through Becky, and that’s what I should have done, but I needed to see her. I wanted to be there and witness her lighting up at the gift I’d thought long and hard about giving her.

I was nervous and probably even feeling a little guilty. I was ten years older than her, and I had no business seeking her out. She was my little sister’s best friend and way too young for me, but none of that mattered to me that day. I found her in the barn, petting her horse. She was surprised to see me, and when I handed her the blue box with the big bow on it, she smiled at me in a way that still makes my heart rate pick up. She hurriedly opened it and pulled it out of the box. Her mouth fell open when she looked at the gold heart locket necklace. I hadn’t put anything in it, even though I had wanted to put a picture of me and her, but that would have been a dead giveaway to my feelings.

With the locket in her hand, she’d dove into my arms, and I held on to her as she thanked me over and over. When she pulled back, I should have let her go, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. And when she went on tiptoe, looking up at me wide-eyed as if I’d just hung the moon, I didn’t have a choice. My hands tightened on her waist, and I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. From that point on, I haven’t looked at another woman. I definitely haven’t kissed one. Her lips, her taste, the feel of her pressed against me has been the only thing I’ve wanted since. No one else will do.

<<<<1 2 3 11 >12

Advertisement
Unfortunate Games – Game Changers Read Online Nichole Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/unfortunate-games-game-changers-read-online-nichole-rose Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:03 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/unfortunate-games-game-changers-read-online-nichole-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Nichole Rose Advertisement

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

Her fortune wasn't supposed to be her fate.

Emelia
Drunkenly folding my way into a future with the hottest goalie in the league wasn't how I intended to spend Saturday night, but here we are.

Clearly, my besties should not be in charge of Girl's Night activities.

One cootie catcher later, and Royce Elliot is determined to make this wild prediction a reality.

I'm absolutely not interested. Until I am.

He's supposed to be my client, not the man I can't resist.

But with every touch and every kiss, this feels less like a game…
and more like forever.

Royce
I know hockey, not how to win over a stubborn, fiercely independent publicist.

But the second I meet Emelia Jónsson, I stop caring about shutouts.
I care about her.

She says her fortune teller doesn't mean anything—that it's just a childish game.
I say fate handed me an opening, and I'm not going to miss my shot.

I didn't expect her to ignite the way she does for me.
And I never imagined I’d fall this hard, this fast.

She swears this can't happen.
She's wrong.

I'm not backing down until she admits the truth.
We were never just a game.
The two of us were fate

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

Prologue

Emelia

One Drunken Night…

"My life is over," Ava groans, tipping her wine glass back until the last little drop lands on her lips. Her blue eyes are glossy and dilated, her cheeks flushed. She's wasted.

"It's not over," Seraphina promises, upending the bottle of wine over the coffee table. "Having Dawson as your stepbrother isn't the end of the world." She shakes the bottle, scowling at it. "This is. Where did the—?"

"We drank it," Nova chirps.

"Dammit." Seraphina shakes the bottle like it's a Magic 8 Ball, refusing to give up the goods.

Okay, so maybe Ava isn't the only one trashed in my living room. We're three bottles deep, hurtling toward bad decisions and early morning regret. I can work with that. I'd rather be wine drunk with my besties than overthinking in my bed. Again.

New clients give me stress. So why did I just agree to represent Royce Elliot, the world's hottest goalie? Oh, right. Because I have no self-control and a bank account that could use a boost since my favorite client, Teo Kirby, retired.

"Here." Nova thrusts a fresh bottle into Seraphina's hands, earning a drunken grin, before she turns to Ava. "She's right, though, Ava. It's not so bad. Try living with Satan's sister. That's bad."

"You need to move," I tell Nova, who shoots me a glare. It's an old argument. Her roommate is evil, but she stubbornly refuses to move out and let the woman win their cold war.

"Yes, it is!" Ava cries, flopping backward on my sofa. "He hates me. I'm destined to spend every holiday for the rest of my life across the table from a man who despises me." She plucks a throw pillow from the couch, burying her face in it with a loud groan.

"I doubt he hates you," I murmur, tugging the pillow away. "He's just…Dawson."

Dawson Iverson, who plays football for the Sabres, is hot as Hades…and grumpy as sin. I'm also 90% sure he's obsessed with Ava. She refuses to believe it, though. She's convinced he loses his mind whenever she comes around because he hates her. Believe me, hate doesn't look like it wants to bend you over the table in front of your parents.

She narrows her eyes at me, fuming. "He calls me half-pint."

My lips twitch.

"I'm twenty-six!"

She's also five-nothing with the face of an angel.

"At least he's hot," Seraphina says, sloshing wine across the table.

"He's my stepbrother," Ava growls.

"So?" Seraphina tries—and fails—to waggle her brows. "It's not like that's a lifelong thing. It just happened. And I've seen what you read, bish. You'd be into it."

"Someone take her wine away."

Seraphina gasps, cradling the bottle to her chest like it's a baby. "No way. I earned this. My boss is the devil."

"A hot devil," Nova mutters, earning a giggle from Ava.

"So hot," Seraphina agrees miserably. "Too bad he's a total nightmare. I'd rather smother him than sleep with him."

"Maybe that's our problem," I mutter, glancing around at my closest friends.

"We don't commit enough murders?" Nova asks.

"No." I pause as the faces of a few of my clients drift through my mind. Whoever said dealing with professional athletes all day would be a lucrative walk in the park lied. They're all pains in my ass. I should have listened to my mom when she tried to talk me out of following in her footsteps. "Well, maybe."

Nova holds her hand out for a high-five. She's always been a savage. It's part of what I love most about her. She's loud and bright and never backs down from anything. Ava is a shy little bookworm with stars in her eyes most of the time. And Seraphina? Well, Seraphina spends most of her time trying to wrangle the one coach on the planet who takes pleasure in making her job impossible. She has the patience of a saint, enough love for ten women, and a burning hatred for her boss.

"We need more hot men in our lives," I explain when they all look at me expectantly.

"Says the woman surrounded by hot men all day, every day." Nova laughs, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "I think you need fewer hot men in your life, Emelia."

She's not actually wrong, but that's beside the point.

"Datable hot men," I clarify.

"Uh…" Seraphina stares at me with wide eyes. "Pretty sure you have a roster of datable hot men."

"Absolutely not." I shudder at the thought. Dating an athlete? There are things I'm desperate enough to do, and things you couldn't pay me enough to do. There isn't enough money in the world to get me on a date with one of my clients. Never going to happen.

"Oh! I know!" Ava cries, scrambling for the Mary Poppins bag she swears is a purse. It's not. If she ever gets lost in the forest, she's going to survive on the contents of that thing for the next six decades. Minimum.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

Advertisement
Angel (Mystic Guardians #7) Read Online Rinda Elliott http://www.ilovenovels.com/angel-mystic-guardians-7-read-online-rinda-elliott Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:09:53 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/angel-mystic-guardians-7-read-online-rinda-elliott Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Novella, Paranormal Authors: Rinda Elliott Series: Mystic Guardians Series by Rinda Elliott
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >43

As an angel, Emory Sterling has lived a long, mostly carefree life. He enjoys his job as a bodyguard, and despite his friends settling down, he wants no soulmate of his own. He has never been able to share his full self with anyone anyway. But when he’s hired to protect an uptight CEO, the soulmate bond is stronger than anything he’s ever felt. Julien’s stern need for order drives Emory crazy, but Emory wants him more than anything.
Julien Davenport’s life is exactly the way he wants it. Security is everything to him, and the last thing he needs is a bodyguard shaking up his world. Or this surprising, new attraction. But a shadowy creature is coming after him, and company files are telling him it’s not a coincidence. As the unexpected bond between them deepens, Julien doesn’t just want more of Emory—he needs the angel’s help to survive.

Angel is a long MM paranormal romance novella in the Mystic Guardians Series. It features an angel afraid of commitment, a reserved human with a surprising tender side, bisexual awakening, and a fight against creepy foes. It can be read alone, but is better read in series order for the overarching plot

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

Chapter One

Emory

“This heat wave is gonna kill me.”

Emory looked at Bain and grinned at the disgruntled basilisk. His white-blond hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and rivulets ran down his temples. Emory had been trying to ignore his own discomfort but now became aware of how irritated he was. Sweat made his T-shirt stick to his back, and he was sure his wings were drooping. There was a reason he hadn’t settled down in the warmest climates.

Dry leaves crackled beneath their feet as they moved deeper into the forest. He glanced over at Alaric, who didn’t seem to be having issues with the ridiculous, over-one-hundred-degree heat that had been boiling Seattle for more than a week now. He’d even let his hair down, long black locks flowing around his shoulders like cool, fresh ocean waves.

Emory had thankfully put his own longish blond hair up in a bun, but he could feel his scalp sweating.

“What I wouldn’t give for a cool breeze about now.” Emory scanned the trees and ground for signs of the rougarou pack they had been sent to find. “I wonder what brought these guys here? They normally stick to the southern states and swamps.”

“Probably what’s bringing a lot of preternaturals here,” Alaric answered as he ducked under a tree limb. “The increase in magic in the ley lines. It’s so strong now, I don’t have to siphon energy from flora to replenish my magic at all. Magic is just in the air for the taking.”

Emory scratched at an itch on his arm. He hoped he hadn’t brushed against any poison ivy. “So what’s the plan? We going to try and talk them into going home first?” He’d been called off another job to assist with this mission, so his briefing had been briefer than usual.

Bain shook his head. “Xavier believes they’ve gone feral. We’re going to have to take them out.”

Emory nodded even as his gut clenched. He hated having to take lives, but if this pack of shifters had lost their humanity, there was really no other choice. Feral rougarou were like ravenous wolves on steroids…while also hyped up on PCP. The humans they’d killed had been left in pieces and partially eaten, so reasoning with the rougarou wasn’t really an option.

None of them were bothering to mask their noise as they tromped through the forest. They wanted to lure the pack out. Moonlight spilled through the tops of the trees, but it wasn’t enough to truly see where they were walking, so branches cracked and dried leaves crunched. From Bain and Emory anyway. Alaric moved with inherent grace, at one with nature. Bain usually moved like that, too, but the heat affected him more.

Something scurried away from them in the underbrush, and an eerie howl rent the air. Emory started to run in that direction, the others falling in beside him. When they hit a clearing, Emory shot up into the sky, hovering to spot the pack they were searching for. There was another clearing about two hundred feet away, and the rougarou were all gathered around something there. They were in their shifted forms, with human bodies and wolf snouts, their hairy hands tipped with long claws. Emory would give anything to be able to fly in that direction, but he couldn’t soar that far, so he came back down and pointed. “Five that way”

They took off running again, and soon, Emory picked up on the sounds of growls and guttural voices. His stomach lurched at the smacking and chewing noises. Seemed the pack had taken something down, and he could only hope it wasn’t another human.

Beside him, Bain shifted into his basilisk form and picked up speed, his long snake’s tail sweeping over the ground. Alaric would probably use his elf abilities to bind the creatures. Emory had his strength, his telekinesis, and his high air jumps to evade attack. Together, they were unbeatable.

Emory burst into the clearing and skidded to a halt. The rougarous stood at his arrival, turning to stare at him. On the ground between them was the half-eaten carcass of a doe. Blood streaked the wolf features of each member of the pack. It covered their bare chests like they’d wallowed in it before starting to eat. Their strong, gamey scent made Emory’s nostrils flare. Their eyes were glazed over, not one of them showing any signs of remaining coherence.

“They’re too far gone,” he said to Bain and Alaric, who’d fanned out around him.

The pack abandoned their meal, leaping toward them, snarling.

Alaric threw up his hands, and two of the rougarou stiffened as the elf wrapped them in a binding spell. They could only growl, bodies twitching as they tried to fight it. Bain’s silvery gray scales shone in the scant moonlight, while the black streaks looked like dancing shadows as he moved. He sent his snake tail snapping toward the two spelled rougarou, and they went flying.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >43