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

Thriller – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:55 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Thriller – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Perfect In Every Way (Manors and Mysteries #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.ilovenovels.com/perfect-in-every-way-manors-and-mysteries-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:55 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/perfect-in-every-way-manors-and-mysteries-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Manors and Mysteries Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)

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Historical fiction writer, Vivienne Dupree, is hoping to unravel the mystery of her WWII soldier, great-grandfather’s doomed love affair with the lovely Lady Harmony. A woman he met convalescing at the sweeping English country estate, The Downs.

Vivienne jumps at the invitation to spend time at this magnificent property, doing so with unfettered access to family papers.

What she doesn’t expect is to come face-to-face—and immediately go head-to-head—with Battle Talyn, the ludicrously handsome, imposing, ridiculously arrogant Duke of Burleigh.

From the start, Vivi and Battle match wits, but it doesn’t take long for Vivi to realize something is amiss at The Downs. She dives into her research to figure it out, at the same time Battle launches a campaign that Vivi doesn’t quite understand.

The game is on, and a mystery is afoot.

What kept the doomed lovers apart all those years ago? What’s happening in the ballroom? Is there a curse on The Downs?

And what does all of this have to do with Battle and Vivi?

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

CHAPTER 1

THE DOWNS

I idled outside the ornate, twenty-foot-high gates, not thinking about the grand adventure that, for months, I’d been so excited to embark on, I could barely stand myself.

Instead, I was concentrating on the sudden bizarre feeling I had, which I’d never felt before.

A feeling that assaulted me (and that violent of a word was an apropos descriptor) the second I saw those gates.

It was a feeling so strong, I was idling in the road in front of the gates of a drive I was supposed to be turning into, a drive on a fortunately not very busy road, and yet for some reason, I was unable to turn in.

I didn’t understand what I was feeling. It was, in my cadre of as yet experienced emotions, undefined.

I was exhilarated, yet alarmed.

Excited, yet terrified.

It was kind of like the sensation you get before you go into a haunted house.

You know it’s going to be fun, but even so, you’re facing the unexpected.

What you further know is, what’s about to happen will be completely out of your control.

But in order to face that unexpected—though what you could expect was that you were going to have the pants frightened off you—you had to let go, put one foot in front of the other, trust, and know things are going to scare you, but in the end, you’ll be laughing.

It took some effort to pocket this strange emotion so I could peer down the lane beyond the gates.

The lane was shaded with beautiful old trees and carpeted with vibrant green lawns.

It was then, out of nowhere, although this time predictably, I felt a strong pang of melancholy.

I did this even though I’d never met him. He was gone before I was alive.

Even so, I knew my great-grandfather had seen these gates. He’d been driven through them. He’d stayed in the massive house that lay beyond the intricate wrought iron and parkland.

In that house, he’d convalesced.

In that house, he’d fallen in love.

In the end, he’d left this extraordinary estate with a broken heart.

And I was there to tell his story.

On that thought, taking a bracing breath, I turned into the lane, stopped beside the security speaker and noted it had a camera.

I hit the button to roll down my window and was about to reach out and hit the one that would call to the house, but the speaker squawked at me before I could even raise my hand.

“Ms. Dupree?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Can you please hold your passport or some other official photo identification to the camera?” the speaker requested.

Unsurprised by this request, for I knew what lay beyond those gates, and thus I knew they wouldn’t let anyone through them who shouldn’t be going through them, I turned to my bag, pulled out my passport, opened it to the picture page and held it to the camera.

“One moment please,” the speaker said.

Although I wasn’t surprised they had security, and it was not just a couple of Ring cameras, I wondered what they could do with my passport information that would take a moment.

Could they check it?

And if they could, how did they get access to that kind of data?

As far as I knew, only government and law enforcement agencies could do something like that.

I mean, if they could, that would take this security to a new level.

I pocketed that emotion too as I slid my passport back into my tote and waited.

I waited some more.

And longer.

I was just about to say something when I heard a mechanism start churning, the gates started opening and the speaker squawked again.

“Thank you for waiting, Ms. Dupree. Please drive through.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you,” I replied.

As the gates slowly opened, I took my foot off the brake.

I was a writer, but I’d been a researcher first.

Therefore, I didn’t come here blind. I knew all about The Downs and the family that had lived there for more generations than my country had even been a country.

But as I drove through the opened gates, taking in the vast manicured lawns under the sprawling canopies of mature trees, I was blown away.

Everything was better in real life than in pictures.

However, this was something else, and “better” didn’t cover it.

And when the trees gave way and I started to see the house…

“Holy crap,” I whispered as more, and more, and more of it was unveiled.

I’d seen pictures of this too.

But…

Good God.

It was built of sandy-gold Bath stone. At the front middle, there was a dual staircase, each side leading up to a vast landing that was home to the fifteen-foot double doors of the main entrance. The house was three stories, one below stairs with half of the level rising above ground. It had a wide central section with two wings angling back at each end.

I drove my long-term rental to one side of the front steps, and I did it on autopilot, I was so entranced by the house.

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Such a Perfect Family Read Online Nalini Singh http://www.ilovenovels.com/such-a-perfect-family-read-online-nalini-singh Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:32 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/such-a-perfect-family-read-online-nalini-singh Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Nalini Singh Advertisement

Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)

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A man with a deadly past marries into the perfect, respectable family in this riveting thriller from New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh . . .

A woman buried.
A woman broken.
A woman crashed.
A woman burned.
And the man who knew them all.

Love at first sight, a whirlwind Vegas wedding, a fairy-tale romance.
For seventy-nine days, Tavish Advani has been the happiest man in the world—until his new life turns to ash, his wealthy in-laws’ house going up in a fiery explosion. His badly injured wife lies in a coma, her family all but annihilated.

Tavish thought he left the sins of his Los Angeles life behind, but it’s not so easy to leave behind an investigation into the deaths of several high-profile women—all of whom he professed to love. Tragedy and death follow him no matter where he goes . . . but this time, he knows he’s innocent.

Desperately trying to clear his name as the authorities zero in, he begins his own investigation into the fire—and learns that his wife’s picture-perfect family may have been nothing but a meticulously constructed mirage. The truth is much darker than anything Tavish could’ve imagined . . .

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

Chapter 1

I’d buried Susanne on this day in October five years ago.

My hands clenched on the steering wheel, my chest tight at the sudden, crushing memory of the first woman I’d ever loved. Complex, sophisticated Susanne Winthorpe, lover of red dresses and stiletto heels, who never stepped foot out of the home without her signature full face of makeup—and at least one diamond.

As different from Diya as the sun was from the moon.

The tightness in my chest evaporated as I thought of how my wife’s face would light up when I handed her the box of little taster cakes on the front passenger seat. She’d asked me to pick them up from the bakery so we could choose a cake for the reception to take place after our religious wedding ceremony in six months’ time; my in-laws weren’t satisfied with the fact we were legally married, wanted the whole shindig.

So I’d be getting married to Diya all over again…and that was more than fine with me.

My heart doing that thing it did only for her, I made sure to take the corners with smooth grace to ensure the cake box didn’t slide off the seat and onto the floor. Water glinted to my right as I passed Lake Tikitapu, which Diya had told me was also called the Blue Lake, the morning sunlight a bright sparkle that had already lured a couple of kayakers onto the water.

I hoped they were wearing wet suits just in case.

The end of October in New Zealand meant spring—brilliant sunshine, crisp temperatures, cherry blossoms and wisteria blooms—but the lakes still felt as cold as ice to my Los Angeles-born-and-bred body. I couldn’t figure out how my father-in-law jumped into frigid lake water every morning for a vigorous one-hour swim.

“It’s good for the heart, my boy!”

Then Lake Tikitapu was in my rearview mirror, with Lake Rotokākahi, or the Green Lake, coming up ahead. Nestled in the thick green bush in between was a lookout from which you could see both lakes. I continued past, my destination the far larger body of water that was Rajesh Prasad’s daily swimming spot.

It didn’t take long, the road all but empty today.

I’d already turned into the drive that led to the beautifully landscaped and expansive property that was the Prasad family home when I noticed smoke drifting up above the tops of the native trees and ferns that flanked the path’s gentle downward slope.

Smoke in the closest township wasn’t unusual—Rotorua was a geothermal city known for its boiling mud pools, hot springs, and geysers, alongside the distinctive scent of sulfur that came and went with the wind. Friends of the Prasads in the city had recently ended up with a sinkhole in their front yard. Small, it mostly blew up curls of hot white smoke—but go deeper and I had no doubt you’d encounter water or mud capable of giving you third-degree burns.

The authorities had fenced off the sinkhole and evacuated everyone from the home while they investigated, and the family involved had been joking about charging people to come look at their own personal piece of geothermal scenery. Beneath the jokes, however, was the fear that their home was sitting atop a disaster waiting to happen.

But the Prasad home wasn’t in Rotorua proper. It sat on the edge of the clear blue-green waters of Lake Tarawera, a good twenty-five-minute drive out of the main part of the city, longer if roadworks were in progress. Close enough to be doable for two specialists who rarely had patient emergencies, but far enough to have the feel of a peaceful enclave set apart from the city.

It wasn’t that Lake Tarawera didn’t feature any geothermal activity—as I’d discovered to my delight when Diya led me on an overnight hike to a hot-water beach on the shores of the lake. We’d walked out of the bush after our hike under the stars to the surreal sight of steam rising off the water, the small boats anchored on the lake ghostly afterimages.

But this smoke…it was too black, too dark, too high.

My mouth dried up.

I pressed my foot to the accelerator pedal and just glimpsed the Prasads’ nearest neighbors—a family of three—running into the drive behind me; their mouths were open, as if they were yelling. Ignoring them, I turned the corner of the drive—to come to a screeching halt behind a bright yellow Mini Cooper.

The cake box slammed onto the passenger floorboard.

“Diya!” It came out a scream as I tumbled from the car in front of the elegant single-level family home that now boiled with fire.

The lake lapped placidly in the background, below a sweep of green lawn that led to a private jetty and boathouse, with the bush-clad hills on the other side casting shadows across the wide swath of water.

The Prasad home was—had been—a showpiece. Huge panes of glass, polished wood stained a rich black, landscaping heavy with native trees and shrubs, each element thoughtfully put together to create a property that fit the landscape rather than attempting to conquer it. Unlike some of the McMansions I’d seen in lakeside towns, the homes around Lake Tarawera weren’t about a display of excess, but about quiet, luxurious beauty.

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So My Ex-Boyfriend is a Serial Killer Read Online Kylie Scott http://www.ilovenovels.com/so-my-ex-boyfriend-is-a-serial-killer-read-online-kylie-scott Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:11:27 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/so-my-ex-boyfriend-is-a-serial-killer-read-online-kylie-scott Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Kylie Scott Advertisement

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >66

Love can be murder, especially when your ex is a serial killer. Don’t miss this spicy new romantic suspense by New York Times, USA Today and Audible bestselling author Kylie Scott!

Nothing prepared Sidney Walsh for the awkwardness of having unknowingly dated an infamous killer. She’s doing her best to move on after her ex got dragged off to jail. If only online amateur investigators, his creepy fans and a particularly belligerent cop would leave her alone. Her social life might be quiet, what with having few friends and the neighbors wanting nothing to do with her. But at least it’s safe. That is until tattooed chef and all-round thirst trap, Noah, moves in next door.

Now Sidney is being asked on dates for the first time in forever, and feeling a dangerous mix of soul-deep connection and red-hot desire. But the darkest moments of her life come crashing back when her ex decides he has unfinished business…her. Will she and Noah make it out alive, and can their love withstand the nightmare of her past?

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

PLAYLIST

“Stick Season” by Noah Kahan

“Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads

“The Body Electric” by Hurray for the Riff Raff

“My Doorbell” by The White Stripes

“Bed Chem” by Sabrina Carpenter

“Moonlight in Vermont” by Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong

“bury a friend” by Billie Eilish

“Saint Elizabeth” by Kaia Kater

“Shake It Out” by Florence + The Machine

“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” by Blue Öyster Cult

“Sweater Weather” by The Neighbourhood

“And Nothing Is Forever” by The Cure

CHAPTER ONE

Memory is a monster. But we’re doing our best to use mine for good. Muriel, Hana, and I are having our weekly meeting when the new neighbor arrives. We have a month and a half before we walk the trails with the cadaver dogs and I am determined to have a list of possible burial sites by then. Any new thirst traps entering the neighborhood are just going to have to wait.

“Oh, he’s cute,” calls out Hana from the front window. She’s an Asian American postgrad student with perfect bangs and a pastel aesthetic. “Come and see!”

“What does he look like?” Muriel has white skin, short grey hair, and is a retired librarian. She is amazing.

“Tall with tattoos, dark hair, and a vague air of brooding.”

“How can you tell about the brooding?” I ask.

“Oh, that’s easy,” says Hana. “It’s all in the set of the chin.”

We work out of the study at the back of my house. Hana calls it the war room. A large map of the local area including nearby national parks is on one wall, and newspaper clippings about missing women are on another. Then there are the photos I took the year I dated my ex. Happy snaps of him smiling at various lookouts. Selfies of the two of us posing beside streams. Ryan loved hiking and getting back to nature. Guess it’s why he buried the bodies of his victims out in the wild.

“I don’t mind some brooding now and then. How old do you think he is?” asks Muriel.

“I don’t know,” says Hana. “Thirty or so? Not forty. Somewhere in between.”

“They still need too much training at that age,” comments Muriel. “Too young for me.”

“I actually think he’d be perfect for Sidney.”

Muriel snorts. Which is a valid reaction to the idea of me hooking up with anyone.

I raise my head. “Wait a minute. Weren’t you just telling me how much dating sucks?”

“That’s completely beside the point,” says Hana.

Hana and Muriel befriended me nine years ago before the trial. I had already started to keep most people at a safe distance. Cyber sleuths, digital detectives, and armchair investigators have a habit of making my life hell. They either message me demanding information or accuse me of being an accessory and/or psycho killer. But these two women met in an online true crime forum and offered to help me remember all the places my ex had taken me. And they kept offering until I accepted. Because we know Ryan revisited sites where he buried victims’ bodies. He once took me for a romantic picnic where the remains of Briana Petersen were later found.

Six women were reported missing during the year he attended a local college. One was later accounted for—she’d been escaping a domestic violence situation. But only one body has been located out of the suspected five. Finding those four missing women and returning them to their families is our goal. Along with proving my ex was guilty of far more than just one case of manslaughter. And I need to do it before he serves out the rest of his fifteen-year sentence. I will not allow him to hurt someone else. No fucking way.

Most of the local police seem to think he’s just a boy from a good family who snapped for unknowable reasons and made a single horrific mistake. And most of the general public seem happy to go along with this point of view. But it’s bullshit. There is a small online true crime group researching my ex and the missing women. I am not going to sit around and wait for someone to clean up a mess I helped make, however.

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Venomous Kiss Read Online T.L. Smith http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-kiss-read-online-t-l-smith Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:15:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/venomous-kiss-read-online-t-l-smith Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Thriller Authors: T.L. Smith Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

The night I catch my husband cheating is the night I stop pretending.

I don’t cry. I don’t scream.

I don’t get mad—I get even.

So I bring home another man.

A stranger with wicked eyes and a smile sharp enough to carve me open. I let him have me in the house I share with a liar.

A moment of weakness? Maybe.

A moment of revenge? Definitely.

But he saw me—the darkness, the hunger, the parts my husband hated—and he wanted more.

I ran before I could fall deeper into his abyss.

A year later, I crash one of the city’s most forbidden parties…

And land right back in the middle of his depraved world.

Only this time, he’s promised to another.

And he vows he’s not letting me go.

*Standalone*

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

PROLOGUE

LILITH

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I saw him, and I think he saw me too…

xox

I hate my job, hate it. If I could quit, I would.

I drum my nails on the bar as I sit there, drinking straight vodka. My husband tells me it’s not very ladylike and I should have some type of soda with it.

My lips curl at the simple thought of that.

Ladylike.

Fuck him and his ladylike bullshit.

“Two whiskeys.”

I turn to the sound of that voice. I’ve seen him a lot. His deep, gravelly voice hits my ears as he leans against the bar, only inches separating his arm and mine, which is still resting near the glass of vodka I’m nursing.

This is the first time I’ve been this close to him. Lifting my drink to my lips, I watch as he picks up both glasses and walks back to the seating area, not once glancing in my direction, dressed in a black pinstripe suit, hair messy, and eyes that could read your soul.

While I have never looked directly into those eyes, I watch the people around him and how they look at him.

They all seem to worship him if he gives them even a hint of attention.

I would probably, too. Actually, maybe I’d have him do the worshiping.

A small smile touches my lips. It’s something my husband sucks at.

I’ve never really known what I want to do with my life, but I’ve always known it’s not what I am doing right now.

Being a wife, an employee to a boss who couldn’t care less about his staff?

I’d rather slit his throat than work another day.

Bad thoughts…

Bad thoughts…

I have to remind myself that it is not normal.

Wishing someone’s death is not normal.

“Another?” the bartender asks.

I shake my head. I have to go home now. My husband will be expecting me.

So, why does my stomach pitch with dread at having to leave this bar and walk into that sterile, pristine hellhole?

I stand, my heels touch the tiled floor, and when I turn, I find those eyes staring at me from where he sits, even as the person in front of him keeps talking and gesturing with his hands. He watches me with a penetrating gaze, quietly sipping his whiskey as I walk toward the door, and it’s unsettling in the best way.

My heels pause, and I wonder, what does he see?

He smirks, and as he does, I grimace before I turn and walk out.

ONE

LILITH

Dear Diary,

When someone bleeds out, how long does it take them to die?

I’ve googled it, but it gives me different answers.

I hope no one searches my Google history or even this diary.

If my last therapist saw it, that bitch would lock me up and throw away the key.

Damn! That woman is a cunt.

xox

I have bad thoughts.

Really bad thoughts.

And I don’t think it’s normal.

It can’t be, right?

Maybe I was broken somewhere along the way when the right pieces were chipped off and replaced by something more sinister.

Gone.

My husband tells me I have issues and that I should see a therapist.

I don’t want to see a therapist again.

I don’t want to tell a stranger the inner workings of my fucked-up mind; the last one was shit.

I tried that a long time ago, just once, and she told me I should only have happy thoughts.

Like, what the actual fuck does that mean?

How do you simply have happy thoughts?

How is that even possible?

Taking a deep breath, I open my car door.

I quit work today. Deven is going to be angry, so I’ve been sitting in the car outside of our house for what feels like ages.

He knows I hate what I do and hate dealing with people.

In fact, I despise most people.

I surprised myself when I married Deven. I’d like to say he got me when I was at my most vulnerable—drunk. But, unfortunately, I was sober.

And now it’s been two years. I had hoped his normalness would rub off on me. Somehow, being a wife, sharing a home, and doing a regular job would tame that darkness inside me.

I first met him through my job—the one I just quit. He was a client at the construction business I worked for. I handled the accounts for all the high-profile clients. He was building a house. It’s the house I’m looking at right now—the one I moved into three years ago, a year before we got married.

I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight.

Honestly, I wonder if it was lust at first sight.

He smiled that perfect white teeth smile and spoke to me one night. He’s a smooth-talker, Deven. I guess that’s how he got his job as a radio host. I never dreamed I would be with someone like him, someone so clean cut, who seems to have their life so put together, or at least I thought so, but he kept coming into the office every day and talking to me.

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Thaw of Spring – Knife’s Edge Alaska Read Online Rebecca Zanetti http://www.ilovenovels.com/thaw-of-spring-knifes-edge-alaska-read-online-rebecca-zanetti Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:03:28 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/thaw-of-spring-knifes-edge-alaska-read-online-rebecca-zanetti Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Rebecca Zanetti Advertisement

Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

Welcome to Knife's Edge, Alaska, where the four Osprey brothers return from military service with shadows in their eyes and secrets in their hearts. As danger looms, new romances ignite, and these rugged men must fight for love…and survival.

Christian Osprey prefers the wilderness to the company of people. A former Navy Special Operator, he’s built for isolation and thrives in the untamed wild. He doesn’t want ties, doesn’t need anyone—but he can’t seem to stay away from Amka, the soft-eyed tavern owner who always greets him with a warm smile, a hot cup of coffee, and no expectations.

Amka Pinga has spent her life being strong for everyone else, even as her own life unravels. Trapped in an engagement that feels more like a cage, she’s tangled in obligations that threaten to break her spirit. Christian’s quiet strength feels like a lifeline she doesn’t dare reach for—but danger is circling Knife’s Edge, and this time, she’s at the center of it.

When Amka becomes a target, Christian will stop at nothing to protect her. But their simmering attraction explodes into something fierce and undeniable, and keeping her close blurs the line between protection and possession. In a town where secrets run deeper than the icy rivers and trust is as treacherous as thin ice, survival means risking everything—even their hearts

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

Chapter 1

Knife’s Edge didn’t thaw quietly—it cracked, hissed, and burned its way into spring. Every year, without fail, more visitors showed up in the small Alaskan town once the mountain passes and tumultuous sky cleared. Not even the drilling rain could keep them away.

Christian Osprey skirted a purple-haired female standing beneath an eave and in front of some lit circle contraption holding a phone, her eyes animated. What the hell? He kept walking, noting the Green Plate restaurant was open for the day. In the winter, Gus and Janet only opened for dinner.

He sighed. Apparently spring had arrived. Damn it. He’d have to gather supplies and head into the mountains sooner rather than later. Glancing at Sam’s Tavern across the muddy street, he felt a tug in his chest he didn’t appreciate. Not at all. He would not go in there. Nobody really knew who Sam had been, but the name had stuck throughout the ages. The current owner was a sweetheart, and one he needed to leave alone.

Hunching his shoulders, he allowed the rain to fall on his thick hair and stood for a moment on the torn and winter-damaged sidewalk, staring at Sam’s and the small storage building between the tavern and the grocery store.

“Hey. Excuse me?” The gal with the purple hair tugged on his arm, her pink sweatshirt damp from the rain.

He glanced down and smoothly stepped away, freeing himself.

Her eyes widened as her gaze dropped to Tika, by Christian’s side. “Is that a baby wolf?”

For crap’s sake. “No.” Christian gave an imperceptible jerk of his chin, and the wolf-husky puppy immediately moved forward, in front of him and to the side. Away from the woman. He turned to do the same and she grabbed his worn T-shirt sleeve. Again.

“Wait. It’s so cool that both you and the wolf have two different colored eyes. Can I interview you?” She stepped closer, bringing the scent of lavender with her.

“Absolutely not.” Christian’s eyes were green and black, while Tika’s were blue and bluish-brown.

The woman didn’t seem put off and instead switched topics. “Why does this town have the only sheriff in Alaska?” Still unfortunately holding the material above his wrist, she pointed to the banners strung across the main street of town. One announced the spring fishing derby next week, and the other announced that Knife’s Edge claimed to have the only Alaskan sheriff.

At the sight of the bigger one, he felt his lips twitch. Brock would fucking hate that. Served him right for becoming the sheriff.

“Well?” The woman turned her attention back on him, looking up many inches to his face. She was cute. About five foot six. Blue eyes, nice bone structure, girl-next-door grin. Too young to be alone in the Alaskan wilderness.

“You eighteen?” he grunted. If not, he’d take her to Brock’s office. As the sheriff, his brother would have to deal with her.

Her smile brightened. “Not anymore. I’m old enough to drink, handsome. Want me to prove it to you?”

He heard the side door to the tavern open across the street and then he felt her move through it. Her. His gaze slid to the opening between the rough wooden building housing the bar and the one-story storage building, catching a glimpse of Amka. Just one second glimpse before she disappeared inside.

At all times, he could feel her location. Her energy. Somehow.

In that instant of seeing her, he’d noted her black hair up in a ponytail, her blue flannel shirt open to show a black cami over full breasts, and tight slim jeans that hugged every delectable inch of her legs. His own energy flowed through him, pushing him to cross the street.

The female finally released his arm. “Dude? You okay?”

Still remaining motionless, he cut his gaze to her. “Yes.”

She swallowed and finally had the good sense to step away from him. “You’ve got such an intense vibe, man. It’s both kinda hot and kinda scary.” Squinting, she studied him from the top of his dark hair to his well-worn boots. “More hot than scary.” Her grin returned. “I’m Nixi Halliday. From Halliday’s Adventures and Holidays?”

He had no clue what that meant. Grunting, he jerked his head at Tika and turned away from Nixi.

“Wait.” Now exasperation filled her tone, but she didn’t grab him again. “Seriously. You’ve never heard of me? Aren’t you on social media at all?”

He needed to get to the damn store for provisions, yet his boots remained on the muddy sidewalk. It wasn’t the woman demanding his attention that kept him rooted to the spot. It was the woman he couldn’t see right now. Having Amka out of sight left him unsettled in a way that hadn’t even caught him while he’d remained motionless in a perch for hours on end worlds away…waiting for his mark. That’s why he had to escape into the wilderness.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

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Deadly Storms – Sunrise Lake Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.ilovenovels.com/deadly-storms-sunrise-lake-read-online-christine-feehan Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:03:26 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/deadly-storms-sunrise-lake-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >138

Danger is gathering on the horizon in this gripping novel of romantic suspense from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.

Shabina Foster does her best to lead a normal life. She takes comfort in her friends and her dogs and finds passion in running her own small-town café in the eastern Sierra. But she can’t help always looking over her shoulder, not after what happened in her past. Since then, Shabina has worked very hard to build herself up and live life to the fullest.

Still, there’s no denying the scars she carries. Truly opening up her guarded world seems like an impossible dream—especially when it comes to the one man who makes her feel safe. Shabina already feels like she’s ruined his life and is determined to keep her distance, even as the ghosts of her past emerge from the shadows.

Security expert Rainier Ashcroft knows firsthand that a storm is brewing and that Shabina is in real trouble. Threats are approaching on all sides—and there’s no telling when the next hit will strike. But convincing the woman he loves to truly let him in will be just as difficult as keeping her alive

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

Chapter One

Shabina Foster sighed as she shut down the Zoom meeting with her therapist and closed the lid of her laptop. For one brief moment she rested her head on the top of the lid. It was always more of the same. She knew exactly what Talia Warren, her therapist, was going to say to her, the same thing she said all the time. She had PTSD. She should expect to have setbacks. To have bad days. To have nightmares. Work through them. Use the tools she’d been given over the years to cope.

Shabina turned her head to look at the three Doberman pinschers crowding around her. Malik, Sharif and Morza were her constant companions and always knew when she was distressed. “Great advice. Like I haven’t tried all those so-called tools. Am I paranoid? Most likely the answer is yes. Sometimes I think I really am going crazy.”

Malik pushed up tight against her leg. Automatically she scratched the fur between his ears. She didn’t know what she’d do without the dogs for comfort—or protection. They were trained guard dogs. She worked with them every day to keep them sharp. She needed to know she could stop them if they attacked, or if there were a threat, she could send them to attack.

She glanced out the window at the gathering darkness. A shiver went down her spine in spite of her determination to be positive. The ominous feeling she had was nothing but lack of sleep and paranoia. It wasn’t real. No one was out there watching her. If someone were in her gardens, the dogs would have alerted.

Squaring her shoulders, she forced a cheery voice. “Tonight’s our night for entertaining, boys. If we’re going to have everything ready for our guests, I’d better stop feeling sorry for myself and get moving. I suppose you boys want your dinner. Who knew you liked to eat?” She was in the habit of talking aloud to them and was convinced they understood everything she said. Affectionately she patted each of them.

Shabina was an avid bird-watcher. Not only that, but she documented and recorded their migrations. She noted rare birds and located nesting sites. She was acknowledged as one of the leading experts in the state. The data she sent in was documented and kept for the records. She had special permission to take her dogs on the trails with her when dogs weren’t allowed to go just anywhere in Yosemite. She hiked alone in the early morning hours on little-known trails to find the birds, and the dogs were her protection unit. They knew better than to chase anything off the trail.

The dogs were tuned to her every mood and realized she was still distressed as she got up to get them their food. Two of the large Dobermans followed her closely. Morza padded over to the bank of windows in the great room and peered out and then began to pace around the room, stopping every few feet to look outside. She stood watching him, hand to her throat as he patrolled.

It was impossible to see into the house, yet they had an excellent view of the surrounding gardens. Cameras were placed in strategic places throughout the area. She should have felt safe. There was a high wall surrounding the house and immediate gardens, but for the last few days, she’d had this terrible darkness invading her mind. She found herself looking over her shoulder everywhere she went. She looked at everyone with suspicion, not a good thing when she owned a café. Sometimes she could barely breathe. She tried to convince herself it was paranoia, that there was no one out there, but she didn’t believe it.

“I’m actually quite happy it’s our turn to have girls’ night here.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. Sometimes she thought she might be going insane. She’d been afraid to go to sleep for the last couple of nights. Her therapist told her she had to sleep, and she had lied and said that wasn’t a problem yet. It was a good thing her friends were coming over. She could check in with them. Find out if they thought she was being totally paranoid.

Once every six weeks, Shabina’s five best friends did their best to get together. As a rule, she loved spending time with them and always looked forward to the one night they worked at setting their busy schedules aside so they could come together.

Shabina had a very large four-bedroom home that she’d done her best to make warm and welcoming for her friends. She had an indoor pool that was very popular with them, and her kitchen was spectacular. She loved her kitchen. She’d already done all the baking and set food in warmers. She’d made dog treats because her friends were always welcome to bring their dogs with them and she believed in giving them good healthy treats as well. The house often smelled of the various baked goods she whipped up. She liked to try new recipes at home before she used them in her café.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >138

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Whispers of the Lake Read Online Shanora Williams http://www.ilovenovels.com/whispers-of-the-lake-read-online-shanora-williams Wed, 09 Jul 2025 19:15:09 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/whispers-of-the-lake-read-online-shanora-williams Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense, Thriller Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

A marriage on the rocks, a missing friend, an investigative journalist, a tangle of shocking lies, and a peaceful North Carolina lakefront cottage converge in this irresistibly twisty new psychological thriller from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author—perfect for readers of Liv Constantine, Tarryn Fisher, Kellye Garrett, and Caroline Kepnes.

At the peak of her career, investigative reporter Rose Howard is exhausted from trying to manage her seemingly perfect life. With her marriage to her one true love collapsing, she desperately needs to rest, regroup, and decide which way to go next. The direction becomes clear when she discovers that her former best friend, Eve Castillo, isn't responding to attempts to contact her at the North Carolina cottage where she's vacationing. Rose knows Eve can be flaky and irresponsible—that’s why they fell out. Still, Rose heads to the tranquil small town of Sage Hill . . .

Rose soon discovers that Eve has vanished without her purse and passport—even after booking a trip abroad. The personable cabin owners’ accounts of Eve's stay just don’t to add up . . . and most of the town's initially hospitable inhabitants becoming increasingly less helpful . . .

Rose's instincts tell her the solution lies somewhere in Eve's—and Sage Hill's—past. To get answers, she’ll have to ask inconvenient questions, rattle long-buried skeletons . . . and face vicious attempts on her life. But some truths are best left alone. And secrets Rose never saw coming could easily sink her and her future without a trace .

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

GORGEOUS TWO BEDROOM COTTAGE ON LAKE AQUILLA

Take a breather in this cozy cottage on Lake Aquilla! Located in the heart of Sage Hill and surrounded by so much nature, you’ll be left with no choice but to unwind, enjoy the views, and relax.

With just a short walk to the shore, you’ll love putting your feet in the cool waters and spotting the fish.

Wake up to wide-open windows that reveal rippling waters that go farther than the eye can see. Make a cup of coffee in our newly renovated kitchen and sit on the patio to watch the sun rise over splendid mountains.

Take a hike on our trails to open up your mind or use our speedboat for a quick ride across the lake.

Whatever the decision is, you can do no wrong in Twilight Oaks, where everyone is welcome.

CHAPTER ONE

Fuck Happiness.

The fleeting thought crossed my mind as I stood in the bedroom closet I shared with Cole and stared at the racks of clothes. What would happen to me now? Where do I go next? How do I find that dreaded happiness again? When it arrives, will it come temporarily, like a visitor? Or will it stay this time? Will it hold me forever?

Only yesterday I was smiling. Hopeful even, ready to put one foot forward and focus on my future. But today, tears fill my eyes and the various colors of clothes become one irritating blur.

People speak of happiness like it’s some tangible, obtainable object—like you can simply grab hold of it, kiss it, and cling to it. Make it promise to never leave you.

Perhaps it is like an object in the metaphorical sense. You can hold on to it all you want, but the thing I’ve learned about Happiness is that it hates clingy bitches. Happiness is disloyal. Unfaithful. Unyielding. It doesn’t care what happens to you when it walks out of the door. It’s like a bad guest, one who shows up when they feel like it. Lingers around. Takes up space. Eats all your favorite snacks. It’s the kind of friend who is so charming and loving that you forget all about their flaws and the way they walked away from you the first time.

Like I said, Fuck happiness. It can go to hell for all I care. I sniffled as I stepped deeper into the closet, wiping my face with the back of my arm. The brakes of a car let off a light squeal.

Cole was home.

A sudden flash of anger wrapped around me, so white-hot that I swear my skin was sizzling. I snatched as many of his pieces of clothing as I could off the hangers. My arms were full of trousers, button-down shirts, silk ties, jeans, T-shirts—whatever I could manage. All of it had to be worth thousands of dollars. I even bent down to grab a pair of his favorite Jordans—a custom-made eggplant pair that I always hated the color of. I snatched down belts, a case of watches, a pair of Versace sunglasses.

The front door closed just as I left the bedroom and rounded the corner, hugging the items. I could smell burning wood from here. Cole’s eyes expanded when he caught sight of me. “Rose,” he said, but I was already walking in the opposite direction, toward the back door. “Rose. Hey, what are you doing?”

I ignored him and walked straight through the door I’d left wide-open. I hoped a million mosquitoes had flown inside just to bite his ass up all night long. The sun was setting, and the air was cool. The firepit was ablaze and the flames enticed me the closer I got. The heat swelled, strong enough to make a person sweat. I swear the crackling of the flames sounded like someone was laughing while chanting, Do it, do it, do it!

Cole shouted my name, chasing after me as I approached the roaring fire. I hurled all of his clothes into the firepit, pulled off my wedding ring, tossed it in too, and watched it all burn.

Eve Castillo journal entry

I found myself staring at my reflection again. I stared for so long it seemed I wasn’t even real anymore. My features became invisible, and my eyes did that weird thing where they glaze over. It’s like an out-of-body-experience—like I’m not myself at all.

Then I blink, snap out of it, and feel the breath coursing through my lungs, the prickle of my skin, the beating of my heart. I wish I could stay that way—living outside my body, watching this ridiculous girl stand for so long she rots.

I wish I was happier, or that I had a simpler life.

I wish I didn’t have to fake smiles.

I wish I didn’t hate myself so much.

CHAPTER TWO

Three Months Later

Corporate parties should be illegal. I didn’t understand how people really looked forward to these things. Socializing outside of working hours with coworkers? Being in the same room as your boss and enjoying an alcoholic beverage with them?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

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Someone Knows Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.ilovenovels.com/someone-knows-read-online-vi-keeland Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:08:53 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/someone-knows-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

An English professor’s deadly past comes back to haunt her in this chilling and sexy thriller from #1 New York Times bestselling author Vi Keeland.

As a college English professor, Elizabeth looks forward to the start of each new semester teaching her creative writing seminar. At least until she reads chapter one of The Reckoning, a tale about a high school senior who has an affair with her teacher. To anyone else it would be the beginning of a great page-turner, but to Elizabeth it is the beginning of the end.

She knows this story. It’s all familiar because she lived it. The girl in the story was her best friend Jocelyn, and Elizabeth knows exactly how the story will end—with the professor dead. Because she was the one who killed him.

Someone knows what Elizabeth did twenty years ago and her secret is about to be exposed, but who is the mystery student submitting the chapters? In an effort to find out, Elizabeth returns to her Louisiana hometown where it soon becomes clear that no matter how many years have gone by, she can’t escape her past

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

CHAPTER

1

May 20th. The date printed at the top of the newspaper startles me, and I drop it like it’s a hot coal that’s burned my hands. It falls to the floor in a scattered array of ink-stained stories. The man behind the counter frowns.

“Sorry,” I offer as I bend, then do my best to shuffle the pages into order and place the paper back on top of the New York Post pile before moving to the magazine rack. Sports Illustrated has a racehorse on the cover. Mr. Hank, my old landlord, will like that, so I pluck it from the pile and head to the register to pay.

It’s the third time I’ve been reminded of the date since I woke up, and it’s only 4 p.m. Normally, when I’m teaching summer classes, like I am now, I only go in twice a week, so I don’t even know what day it is. But May 20th isn’t just any day, I suppose. It’s the twenty-year anniversary of the day I’ll never forget.

I leave the bodega and decide to walk the fifteen or so blocks to Mr. Hank’s assisted-living facility, rather than taking the subway. It’s beautiful out, and I still need to stop and pick up donuts. Plus, I don’t want to see him until I can clear my head. He’s struggling through dementia, so the last thing he needs is me bringing my anxiety for a visit. But my mind whirls as I walk, and not even the bright pink blossoms of the magnolia tree in Union Square Park can soothe the melancholy that lingers in my heart.

I pass the High Note, the pub where I met Derek, the guy I used to hook up with before Sam, and look through the front window. Derek was a fireman. A few guys are sitting at the bar, probably firemen, too. They seem to occupy the place most evenings. I don’t have any desire to go in, but it gives me an idea, reminds me there’s a way to loosen the tight knot in my neck and take the edge off all the anxiety I feel today. So I reach into my pocket, pull out my cell, and type as I stroll past the bar.

Elizabeth: Up for hanging out tonight?

“Hanging out” sounds so much better than fucking me until I can’t think straight anymore. But running five miles this morning didn’t clear my head, and I’m sure Sam won’t mind. He’s always been the initiator of our get-togethers and has mentioned more than once that I could reach out to him, too.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at Park Manor Nursing Home. I still don’t feel great, but Sam’s enthusiastic response to my text has helped, smoothing the edges of my jangled nerves. He’s working tonight, though, so I won’t see him until tomorrow.

I check in with the nurse at the desk on the third floor, and she hits the button to unlock the door to the memory care unit. It’s easy to find Mr. Hank—he’s laughing uproariously at the television in the lounge. The hearty sound lifts my mood more than anything else today. As I approach, he catches sight of me, his eyes twinkling with recognition.

“Elizabeth!” he says. “C’mon over here, young lady.”

The warmth of his greeting thrills me. Despite the fact that he saved my life when I first moved to New York—two days shy of twenty years ago—by giving me a discount on rent and telling me where to look for a job, he sometimes can’t recall who I am now. I hurry over, give him a big hug, and offer the bag of donuts I picked up from his favorite street vendor. They’re chocolate, also his favorite—that’s one thing he never forgets.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” I smile, holding out the magazine and daily racing form I picked up at OTB earlier. “I shouldn’t encourage your habit, but I thought you might like these, too.”

Mr. Hank has been a gambler all of his life, mostly on the ponies. He can’t go outside without the assistance of an aide anymore, and he refuses to use anything but a landline phone, yet somehow he’s figured out how to create a FanDuel account on his iPad so he can bet ten dollars a day on horse races.

“You’re too good to me.” He pulls a chocolate donut from the bag and licks his lips. “You know, I used to make chocolate donuts. Just like this. Only better, of course.”

I smile. “Of course. Your bakery was voted best donuts in New York City, eighteen years in a row.”

He takes a bite, chews slowly, and I can tell he’s savoring it.

“I was the only baker in my neighborhood to keep making them by hand after the donut machines came out.” Another bite. This time with a groan of happiness as he chews.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

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Cup of Lies (The Crowne Conspiracy #3) Read Online K. Webster http://www.ilovenovels.com/cup-of-lies-the-crowne-conspiracy-3-read-online-k-webster Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:28:38 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/cup-of-lies-the-crowne-conspiracy-3-read-online-k-webster Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense, Thriller Authors: K. Webster Series: The Crowne Conspiracy Series by K. Webster
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >79

From USA Today Bestselling author K Webster comes a new dark romance…

I’m trapped in a lie.
They’ve twisted my mind so that I barely recognize who I am anymore. In this new prison, I’m the devoted wife of a brilliant, deceptive man who holds the key to my carefully constructed reality.
But something is missing and my soul aches.
As the cracks in my mind widen, fragments of a life I don’t remember claw their way to the surface. A name lingers on the edges of my thoughts and sends a shiver down my spine.
Caius.
This new life is a nightmare but not real. The truth holds steady in my heart, showing me the way. I know Caius is searching for me. We’ll soon find our way back to each other.
The people who did this to me think they’ve won and broken my mind forever.
They were wrong.
Once I find him, we’ll expose every facet of their evil empire.
Together, we will burn it all to the ground.

Cup of Lies is book three in The Crowne Conspiracy trilogy. This book is a dark, psychological romance that contains triggering content. This book completes the series.

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

PREVIOUSLY IN MIND MAZE…

Still trapped under Caius Crowne’s control, Romy Langston struggled to heal after Gareth’s horrific betrayal. As she fought to regain her strength, she was forced to spend Christmas in New York with her estranged father, Gideon Langston, and her stepmother, Eva. There, memories long buried began to surface, especially when she recognized her childhood nanny, Vivienne, as the true “monster” from her past.

When Romy confronted her father, he dismissed her accusations and pushed for stronger medication to silence her. But the truth only grew louder. Using Kaitlyn’s Barbie dolls, Romy uncovered the horrific secrets Vivienne and Gareth tried to keep hidden.

As Romy clung to the fragile bond she was forming with Caius, their relationship deepened into something far more dangerous—real love. But every step closer pulled her deeper into the Crownes’ control.

During Eva’s birthday celebration and President Huxley’s gala, Romy began seeing the cracks in their perfect world. Subliminal messaging. Mind control. Corruption at the highest level. As new threats closed in, including the charming but sinister Seth Portman and Doc Junior, Caius made a bold move. He publicly proposed to Romy, shattering the president’s manipulative spell over them.

Romy helped Megan Benson break free from CUP’s grip, but in doing so, exposed herself. Her brother, Bastian, assaulted her, and Caius came to the rescue. Unfortunately, in his quest to find answers about his sister, he left Romy in a vulnerable position, and Theo swept in.

Caius uncovered horrifying secrets about Romy’s past—including a doll that tied everything back to her captivity. But before he could save her, Theo betrayed them both. Drugged and kidnapped, Romy was delivered straight into the twisted clutches of the masterminds behind the mind control.

Caius, desperate to find her, was ensnared by his father’s lies. They framed Romy as a traitor, drugged him, and forced him into choosing between saving Romy or his long-lost sister, Calista. Trusting his heart, Caius chose Calista—believing he could return for Romy.

Both Romy and Caius became victims of their enemy’s most devastating weapon yet: the Stem Lock procedure.

Six months later, Romy wakes to a perfect life—a husband, a daughter, a home, and a growing baby. But it’s all a lie. Her memories have been wiped clean. Her mind belongs to someone else now.

Someone who is not Caius.

Romy

My mind is a liar.

It’s been playing tricks on me since I was a little girl. I’ve learned not to trust it. To be suspicious of every thought and skeptical of every memory.

I’m on constant alert, always at odds with my overactive brain.

Is it lying to you now?

Yes.

Somehow, deep in the hollow cavity of my chest, I feel it. There’s an empty ache inside of me, begging me to remember.

Except, everything is perfect.

People with perfect lives don’t agonize over strange feelings. They give in to the goodness around them and don’t take a second for granted.

I’m married to a hardworking man, have an adorable and sassy daughter, and each day grow bigger with a new little one on the way. My home is immaculate, and my heart is happy.

Liar.

The pain in my chest intensifies to the point I wonder if I’m suffering from heartburn.

Stop lying to yourself, Romy. Think.

The only time I can really do my thinking is when Seth is at work. At one time, I hated the long hours he put in, but more and more lately, I’m grateful for them.

Something doesn’t add up with him.

I absently rub at the newest bruise on my wrist. Seth says I’m clumsy and always bumping into things. How come I can’t remember when I do? Why does this bruise feel and look like a thumbprint that is the exact size of his?

Your mind is tricking you, Romy. He’s a good husband. You’re making something out of nothing.

Am I, though?

As I fold towels, I get caught up staring at the giant picture above our fireplace. It’s a wedding photo of me and Seth. The funny thing is, I can’t remember it. I’m not sure when it even took place. I refuse to broach the topic again, though, because it puts Seth in a dark mood. Sometimes I feel like I’m disappointing him—like I’m not turning out the way he thought I should be. But the picture is perfect—too perfect—as though someone painted on our fake, smiling faces. It doesn’t feel authentic to me.

I peek in on Kaitlyn, happy to see she’s quietly playing with her dolls. Since it’s raining, she can’t go outside to play. As much as I love to entertain her, sometimes I need a break.

Tiptoeing back to my room, I do my best to dig through the dark, hidey holes of my brain. Surely I’ll remember something about our wedding. Was Dad there? Bastian?

A flash of anger ripples down my spine, making my skin burn hot.

Strange.

Why does it feel like I should be mad at them?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >79

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Green Ravens (Ravens #2) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/green-ravens-ravens-2-read-online-a-e-via Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:27:32 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/green-ravens-ravens-2-read-online-a-e-via Genre: M-M Romance, Thriller Authors: A.E. Via Series: Ravens Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >82

They erased their memories, rewrote their names, and made them beasts. Now, the hunt for vengeance begins.

Chief Aiken Oakley and Chief Styles Sawyer—two of the US Navy’s most elite Special Warfare Combatant-craft officers—vanished after their mission was ambushed in South America and later presumed MIA.

Captured by the Raven’s organization, a covert assassin program, Oakley and Sawyer are stripped of their past, their memories, and even their names.
They are subjected to inhumane experimentation and injected with predator DNA that transform them into primal, lethal weapons… and are now known only as Valor and Zorion.

After breaking free from the program’s control, Valor and Zorion train themselves to master the beasts within them—pushing their minds, bodies, and instincts to the edge.

But to take down the corrupt organization, they’ll need more than strength, fury and an appetite for revenge. They'll have to form uneasy alliances with the two other deadly Raven units—the strategic, silent Browns, and the ruthless, unpredictable Blacks.

Together, these assassins must unite against the program that created them... and destroy it before it creates something worse.

Black, Brown, and Green Ravens… The organization turned them into weapons, and now they’ve come back for war.

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

SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer

Special Warfare Combatant Craft Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer sat at the rear of the dank confines of one of the USS Rimlin’s strategy rooms with his crew standing behind him. He referred to deck one as the belly of the beast, though there were still multiple decks below him.

This was the section of the two hundred forty-four-foot-tall aircraft carrier where he was briefed on his missions, where he was thrown into the thick of it, into the world’s most dangerous situations, so it always felt like a room that swallowed him whole.

Over forty US SEALs and boat operators filled the space as they listened to the details of their upcoming mission.

An operation that was his specialty—personnel recovery.

“Three CIA agents were ambushed on their way back from their check-in point in Porto Velho.” The lieutenant nodded to another officer to change the images on the screen behind him. “Regrettably, two were killed, gunshots to the head, the other was abducted. The agents were acquiring information on the Woyashi terrorist group responsible for the Swiss embassy bombing and the assassination attempt on General Elias Silas. The abducted agent is believed to be in possession of a hard drive that holds classified information on Woyashi’s current dealings with a weapons of mass destruction physicist.”

The Lieutenant. paused. “Any questions?”

“Do we have any details on the abductee’s status, sir? Are they ambulatory?”

Sawyer recognized the lieutenant of one of the two Navy SEAL teams responsible for the breach. Meehaus was an absolute monster the second his boots hit the ground. The hostage was lucky to have him leading the charge.

“We don’t know his current condition, but we do know this group is ruthless and violent, and their methods of interrogation are brutal. So you’ll need to be prepared for a carry.”

Meehaus nodded.

The Lieutenant. waited to see if anyone else had something to ask or add, and when they didn’t, he began to go over the details of the SEALs’ drop site.

“Intel confirms the hostiles have a camp in Novo Aripuanã. They have heavy artillery so be prepared for return fire. Their numbers are roughly four or five dozen men, so watch your backs and each other’s.”

The mission specialist, Master Chief Robinson, motioned toward Sawyer.

“Because of the severity and threat level of this mission, we brought in two of the fleet’s best boat teams to pull you boys out of the trenches. Chariot, commanded by CWO Oakley, and Neptune, commanded by the infamous CWO Sawyer.”

There were a few “Hooyahs” and whoops thrown in their direction, especially at Oakley as he stood wide-legged with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his infamous light-hazel eyes shining pale yellow in the sunlight hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed aviator shades.

The Lieutenant. dismissed them, and each team filed out of the room and went in their own directions.

Sawyer hung back to say a few words to Oakley. He hadn’t worked with him before, but his reputation preceded him.

Sawyer and his crew were notorious for skirting the rules, but when a mission operator called for the best, Sawyer was the one who answered. But he made no mistake that Oakley’s guys were in a very close second.

While Oakley had a conversation with a couple of boys from the SEAL team, Sawyer tried not to pay attention to the way the other boat chief filled out his fatigues.

He didn’t usually size up other men. Maybe it was hero worship.

“You ready to take a swim, chief?”

Sawyer jerked his head up to find Oakley’s attention square on him.

“Always ready,” he answered, taking Oakley’s outstretched palm and giving it a firm shake.

“What can I do ya for?”

Oakley had a deep voice, with a smooth baritone timbre.

“Well, it’s not often I meet a legend.” Sawyer smirked, staring at his own reflection in Oakley’s black lenses.

The room was dark as fuck, but he knew why Oakley hid that miraculous glare, or so he’d heard rumors. Apparently, the man caught quite a bit of ridicule for his eyes, being called everything from doll eyes to piss holes to oracles.

Oakley smirked. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, chief.”

Sawyer was stunned when Oakley turned his back on him and left the room without so much as a “see ya.”

Well fuck.

He’d heard Oakley wasn’t big on small talk. Sawyer supposed that was one thing he could mark as truth.

Instead of taking offense, he chalked it up to the looming mission. They were buckets up at zero eight hundred. Maybe Oakley wanted to be alone to get his head ready for the fight.

SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Aiken Oakley

“Well shit,” Oakley muttered on his way up the narrow stairs. “I was not expecting that.”

He’d heard a lot of stories about Chief Sawyer and his crew, about his bravery, his sharp thinking, and his unshakable duty to his men and his country. But what Oakley hadn’t heard was how fucking sexy he was.

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