Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 26 Dec 2020 14:54:16 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Perfect Rage (Unyielding #3) Read Online Nashoda Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/perfect-rage-unyielding-3-read-online-nashoda-rose Sat, 26 Dec 2020 14:11:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/perfect-rage-unyielding-3-read-online-nashoda-rose Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
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(Unyielding #3) Perfect Rage

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Nashoda Rose
Language:
English
Book Information:

This is Connor's story.
Unstable. Unpredictable. Consumed by perfect rage. I was fighting who I’d become and what I’d done.
There was nothing I cared about except her.
She was mine. But I’d forgotten her—my shutterbug. And I lost her.
Until now.
I’d do anything to possess her again. Anything to keep her safe. Protect her against my biggest opponent.
The monster.
Me.
****Full-length novel: 93,000 words
Perfect Chaos (Unyielding, #1)
Perfect Ruin (Unyielding, #2)
Perfect Rage (Unyielding, #3)
Books in Series:

Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
Books by Author:

Nashoda Rose


2005

“THEY DON’T LIKE civilians around, especially journalists. Don’t take it personally,” Jaz whispered as we followed the lieutenant who had said no more than three words to us since we arrived on base. Two of which were ‘no photographs’.

He’d taken us directly to base commander, General Maunder, who reiterated the no photos rule, and that we, under no circumstance, were allowed to walk around base unsupervised. He also told us we’d leave for the orphanage at 0600. Then he ordered the lieutenant to take us to meet Corporal O’Neill.

The strict formality did nothing to help my nerves that had caused a perpetual churning of my stomach. I was in a war-torn country on a military base where I was obviously not welcome and would be traveling across perilous roads to an orphanage where I’d spend the next month.

Yeah, I was nervous as hell.

Jaz nudged my elbow and slowed. “It’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” But I didn’t know. Jaz did because he’d been doing this for twenty or more years. I’d never been out of Colombia.

We passed row after row of enormous canvas tents when finally the lieutenant stopped abruptly at a clearing where six shirtless, muscled military guys jostled one another for a ball.

“O’Neill will be free in a minute. Wait here, please,” the lieutenant ordered, then spun on his heel and walked to a guy who stood watching the game. He said something to him, nodded in our direction, and then disappeared into a nearby tent.

“Get your camera, but discreetly,” Jaz said. “I can do a sideline story.”

“The commander told us no photos.”

“You want to be good at this, you need to take risks and get the shots no one else does.”

Jaz had reported all over the world in dangerous environments, whether it was from natural disaster or war. I was like a shiny new car who had never been driven off the lot and gotten her tires dirty. But the lot hadn’t exactly been safe and I’d been exposed to the elements. Those elements being a Colombian drug lord named Carlos Moreno.

I was here to escape the unwanted attention of Carlos and the only reason I obtained this position was because my brother worked for the magazine, and the photographer broke his leg the week before they were supposed to leave.

“I’m here at an army base in Afghanistan. That’s enough risk and I really don’t want one of these guys angry at me.” Besides, I wasn’t here to take photographs of hot military guys playing football or as they’d call it soccer. Still, I couldn’t help but look at the guy who currently had control of the ball.

He grinned as he volleyed it back and forth between his feet while making his way toward the makeshift goal. The grin was a little mischievous, a little cute and a lot cocky. His deep blue eyes were filled with amusement and I heard his raspy chuckle when one guy slid into the dirt attempting to kick the ball away from him, but Blue Eyes saw him coming and heeled the ball backward at the last second.

My eyes trailed over his hard chest to the tattoo down his left side, then to his flexed abdomen. Definitely an eight-pack and even though I couldn’t see his thighs because he wore cargo pants, it was obvious they were muscled, too.

But he wasn’t the only one. All the guys playing were in incredible shape.

“Deck, you bastard,” Blue Eyes barked, as a guy who I assumed was Deck elbowed him in the ribs and stole the ball. He then dodged a seriously built guy who attempted to block him. “Gate. Fuck. Take him out.”

I smiled when Blue Eyes’ grin was replaced by a fierce scowl as he ran after Deck who was close to the goal with no one on him.

Obviously, this guy was competitive and didn’t like to lose because any playfulness had turned to resolve as he darted left to avoid a guy trying to block him from reaching Deck.

“Riot!” a guy yelled. His back was covered in a tattoo of a bird, like a hawk or something.

Riot. The call sign suited Blue Eyes as he undeniably appeared like he’d be fun, but also dangerous with that aggressive determination.

Deck hitched his leg back to kick the ball into goal at the same time as Riot reached him. He body checked Deck to the left, then kicked the ball hard out of the path of the goal.

Out of the path meant toward the sidelines—where we were standing.

It happened in slow motion and my reaction time was non-existent as the ball flew through the air right at me.

“Ah, fuck,” Riot shouted just before the ball hit me in the forehead.

I staggered back from the impact and Jaz grabbed my arm at the same time as I put my hand to my head.


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Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2) Read Online Nashoda Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/perfect-ruin-unyielding-2-read-online-nashoda-rose Sat, 26 Dec 2020 14:11:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/perfect-ruin-unyielding-2-read-online-nashoda-rose Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 118114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
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(Unyielding #2) Perfect Ruin

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Nashoda Rose
Language:
English
Book Information:

Kai
There is nothing I care about.
No attachments. No connections. Outwardly, I’m a perfect gentleman. Until my target sees my knife.
I fear nothing, not even death. In my world, death is considered a privilege. But my life comes with unbreakable cruel strings and
when I met her, I should’ve walked away. I didn’t. I was too selfish. And that sealed her fate.
Because one week with me led her into the hands of ruin.

London
We all have unique layers that make up who we are. What makes us vulnerable or strong. What we fear and what excites us. But peel back those layers and you’re left naked and exposed.
They did that to me. Each piece was slowly stripped away then burned. I merely existed. But there was one layer they overlooked.
The most important of them all—the tie to one man. The man responsible for me being this way. The man who found me.
And the killer who would do anything to protect me.

****Perfect Ruin is the story of Kai and London.
****Must be read in order:
Perfect Chaos (Unyielding, #1) Deck and Georgie
Perfect Ruin (Unyielding, #2) Kai and London
Perfect Rage (Unyielding, #3) Connor’s story
Books in Series:

Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
Books by Author:

Nashoda Rose


Present Day

France

“HELLO, MOTHER.” I strode into the room. The two white candles perched on pedestals at either side of the door flickered as I passed, causing a glimmer of shadows to dance along the stone walls.

“Darling,” she cooed, as if pleased to see me.

We both knew different. She hated me, but the feeling was mutual.

Bitch had kept me waiting three weeks in France before giving me an audience. Finally, I’d been summoned like a fuckin’ pet to its master by one of her minions. The waiting was a ploy to unnerve me. Unfortunately for her, it failed. Patience came easily to me as I’d spent my life having to live up to the word.

As a child, I’d been kept waiting for food, for sleep, for the pain to end. I’d learned that time was better off being nonexistent, to never wait for something to occur, but instead, to ensure that anything I wanted would happen and that time had no significance.

There’d been a glitch in that way of thinking—London. Time suddenly mattered and that fucked with me.

She didn’t bother rising from behind her large mahogany desk that faced the ornate, stained-glass window. She merely tilted her chin at an upward angle to glance over her shoulder at me. Her slender fingers went to the pearl necklace around her throat and she caressed the beads.

“A shame I missed you on my last visit to Toronto. Brice told me you were in New York checking up on Dr. Westbrook. I hope all went well.”

This was complete bullshit. “Yes, of course.” It hadn’t. I’d been in New York, but I’d been searching for London, not checking up on her father, Dr. Westbrook. London had been at my house, a house no one knew existed; at least, I’d thought that was the case. Now, I knew different.

“How have you been? Are you staying in the city?”

Her slow interrogation was meant to sound like casual conversation, but there was always a purpose to every word out of her mouth. To an outsider, it would sound like a loving mother. To any who knew her, it was a manipulative way to try to obtain information without appearing like she was doing anything but chatting.

I reached the desk and bent to kiss the cheek she offered. My lips barely touched her cool skin before I straightened. I nonchalantly leaned against the desk beside her and crossed my arms. “I’ve been well, Mother.” I had no intention of offering anything else.

I’d been staying at a quiet inn just outside of Paris where the goats bleated all day and the linen sheets smelled like they’d been doused in lavender. Actually, the entire house did, but it was the last place Mother would expect me to stay and the bonus was the owner cooked brilliant meals.

I’d paid for a room in a five-star hotel in the city and had all my messages sent there. I did wonder how long it took them to discover I wasn’t staying there.

“Your flight was good?” She raised her brows that were beginning to thin out as she aged. The creases around her mouth and the corners of her eyes were more pronounced than the last time I’d seen her. But instead of making her look frail, as it did most people, the wrinkles hardened her appearance.

I chuckled. “Yes, three weeks ago, when I arrived.”

She smiled, unaffected by my slight. “I apologize. I had a few delicate and time sensitive issues to deal with.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I glanced at her computer screen and the security camera of the entrance to the front door was up. She’d been watching my arrival.

“No. No. A mere nuisance that I’ve dealt with.” She clicked the ESC button at the top left of the keyboard and the screen went black. “How is Georgie? What’s she go by? —Chaos? A shame about the Tanner situation. He was a great asset.”

Her comment was like a burr against my skin. That tiny prickle of warning to be careful as to what I said. But then, I was always careful around the bitch. It was best to follow what was expected of you when you were planning the unexpected. “Tanner was too attached to her and required elimination.”

The kid, Tanner, had been assigned to befriend Georgie and her brother, Connor, over a decade ago. It was before Connor was taken by Vault; he was now one of us—with a little coercion, of course. Never thought I’d give a fuck who Vault tortured, manipulated, or conditioned because I’d been one of them. But London changed that. She changed everything.

Mother nodded and a strand of blonde hair, streaked with grey, slipped out of her tightly woven bun and she pushed it back behind her ear. “Yes. You did warn us he could become a problem. But, he had his usefulness.” She paused, her eyes drilling into me. “And Deck?”


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Perfect Chaos (Unyielding #1) Read Online Nashoda Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/perfect-chaos-unyielding-1-read-online-nashoda-rose Sat, 26 Dec 2020 14:11:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/perfect-chaos-unyielding-1-read-online-nashoda-rose Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 90276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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(Unyielding #1) Perfect Chaos

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Nashoda Rose
Language:
English
Book Information:

Georgie
I lie to survive.
Have since I was sixteen and my world fell into chaos. But I found a way to endure, or rather it found me. Now I’m a prisoner of my own doing, hiding behind a false mask so no one sees the truth. Not even the man I want but can’t have—Deck. But I messed up and the lies are spilling over, out of control.
Deck is unrelenting and will settle for nothing less than the truth. He demands everything from me—EVERYTHING—even if it rips me apart.

DECK
I kill for a living.
Unyielding—It’s how I survive in my line of work. I bend people to my will…except Georgie.
But that ends now.
I've played her game for far too long. Now I think it's time we play mine.
Books in Series:

Unyielding Series by Nashoda Rose
Books by Author:

Nashoda Rose


This is an EROTIC romance novel with some dark elements. If you are uncomfortable with explicit sex, harsh language, and disturbing scenes then this book might not be for you.

*Mature audiences only.

I SMOOTHED OUT the wrinkles on my bedspread then placed my stuffed brown bunny rabbit against the white-and-pink flowered throw pillow. At sixteen, I was a little old for stuffed animals, but it had been a gift from my brother the first time he went away to Afghanistan with the military.

I straightened, then saw the sheet hanging down in the right corner and quickly tucked it back into the mattress. Perfect. I liked … no, I was obsessed with being organized. Everything had its place, even me. I kept to the same bland, colorless clothes, the same schedule, and the same hair style. Why mess with what worked? My brother often teased me and said I should join the Canadian forces like him. I may like neat and tidy, but I hated fighting, blood, guns, and, unquestionably, any killing.

Connor knew that. He’d helped me bury my goldfish, Goldie, in the backyard when I was seven, then the hamster, Fiddlehead, when I was ten. To this day, there is a marked stone Connor had made for him near the back fence. I could see it whenever I looked out the kitchen window.

I jerked as a car door slammed, which sounded as if it was in our driveway. The sun had just peeked over the horizon; six in the morning was too early for any visitors, plus it was Sunday and Dad had the rule he and Mom sleep in. I always rose early wanting to get ahead of the day, another reason Connor said I’d excel in the military. Although, we both knew he’d never allow me anywhere near danger, which I was very content with. Danger to me was if my shampoo was missing and I had to use my brother’s instead.

But Connor wasn’t due back for another month, so that meant ... A sudden freeze hit my body, locking my limbs in place as I realized why someone might be in our driveway at six in the morning on a Sunday. My breath trapped in my throat as if clamped hands were strangling me.

No.

No. I shook my head back and forth. Please, don’t knock.

It was the newspaper boy. Early. He was an hour early today. In a second, I’d hear the clang as the newspaper bundle hit the metal screen door.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, I waited for the familiar sound.

Nothing. I sucked in large amounts of air for my starved lungs.

Not him. Please, not him.

Connor.

Connor.

My heart thumped harder and harder in its cage and tears pooled in my eyes. I couldn’t hear his footsteps, but I knew his team leader’s black combat boots were walking up the stone path toward the house.

I can’t lose him. Please.

Run.

Run and it won’t be true.

But I couldn’t move. My legs were locked in place as I waited for the nightmare to begin.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It was as if each knock was a punch to the stomach. No air. I couldn’t breathe. I was silently screaming and nothing could stop the fear gripping my insides.

Please. No. I need him.

I heard my parents’ bedroom door open and the shuffling of feet down the hallway on the hardwood floors. The distinct click as the lock turned and then the front door opened, followed by the screech of the screen door.

Then silence.

It felt like hours as I stood in the middle of my room, afraid to look out the window and see the car I didn’t want to see. Afraid to run. Afraid to move. Hoping I was still asleep and this was all a dream.

Yes, it was a dream. I’d wake up any second. I’d call Connor today. I’d tell him how much I missed him and loved him. It had been weeks since we last spoke. I should’ve emailed him more often. Why hadn’t I?

My mother’s loud wail pierced the air, and my perfect world crashed to my feet. It was like I was being coiled in the death grip of an anaconda and dragged under the water.

I fell to my knees, my arms wrapped around myself, and I rocked back and forth as my mother’s cries became muffled as if she was being held against something.

There were more footsteps. Not quiet and soft like my mom’s. Not slow and lumbering like my dad’s. Long, confident strides.

No. Go away. Just go away. It’s not real.

The steps stopped outside my door, and I heard the click as the door handle turned. It was opening my soul and ripping out my heart.

I stopped rocking.

The door swung open.

I clamped my eyes shut, not wanting to see him. Unable to face him, face what he was here to tell me.

“Georgie.”

Deck’s gruff tone, I’d recognize anywhere. It scared me. He scared me but what scared me more was my body’s reaction to him. The strange tingling between my legs, the warmth on my skin and the whirling in my stomach as if I was falling from the sky.


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