New books are the best gifts but when you find a new book in a series, it's like getting together with your friends. Today, I'm sharing a new novella in the Secrets of the Moon saga.... Blood Moon. 

The mystery deepens…but the truth slowly begins to unravel.

In the midst of an impending war, comradeships will be forged, relationships mended, and bonds strengthened.

We’re closer to dismantling the alpha’s plan now than ever before, but when tragedy strikes, our commitment to a cause kept alive for the memory of our loved ones will be tested. Our ties tried. Our sanity preyed upon.

Darkness will shadow our lives. A common goal, however, can help us move forward.

Can we pick up the pieces long enough to ensure a future for Marjorie? Or will another loss be the evil that breaks me?
 
Excerpt for Blood Moon

“Is it true?” I ask before he can ramble on about formalities and pack protocol, which are things I know by heart already and have no desire to hear again. “What Josephine said?” Though I don’t get the impression Marquis has been eavesdropping on my conversation with our sister, I do know he has an idea of what I’m referring to.

“That’s not a subject I wanted to discuss right now, but since you’ve brought it up I’ll start out by providing an easy answer to your question. Yes, I believe you’re an alpha in the making.” His words force me to shudder. Alpha? Me? I’m not qualified to be one. Not with my curse. I wouldn’t make for a good leader. My impulsive decisions would probably get half the pack killed.
​
“Marquis, I don’t have any intention of being an alpha. Much less rule our pack. I’m perfectly happy watching you do it.”

​About the Author:
Kristy Centeno is the author of the Secrets of the Moon saga and Keeper Witches series.
She has always had a passion for books and after years of being an avid reader, she decided to transform her desire to write into a reality and thus, her first novel was born. When she’s not busy taking care of her five children or holding down the fort, she finds time to sit and do what she loves the most: writing.
Website  Facebook  Twitter  Goodreads  Blog  Amazon  Pinterest 
 

I love weddings. They are one of the most amazing ways to show your love and devotion. Today I'm happy to invite you to A Faerie Wedding- A Star Child companion novella. This time Gabe get's the limelight.

​Gabe Stewart has everything he ever wanted. Mortal Earth is safe. He’s a super-hero Protector whose best friend is within telepathic shouting distance. And then there’s his soul-mate, Singer. He knew right away she was the one he’d been waiting for.
 
But Gabe’s world shatters when Singer professes she doesn’t love him. On top of that, his mother admits she’s been messing with his memory making him doubt everything he’s ever known. And just when it seems things can’t get any worse, his best friend in the whole freaking world, Kellen St. James, wants Gabe to stop being his Protector. Being a Protector is who Gabe is. What will happen if he’s not standing between the prince and danger?
 
When the man who’s sacrificed his freedom is faced with life alone, which path will he choose? Will he remain the last Protector? Or will he finally get the happy ending he deserves?
 
*A Faerie Wedding is a companion novella--intended to be read after the other books in the series. It is a New Adult novel and features adult language and situations.
 
Sadly... you can preorder your chance to attend this wedding....which will happen just in time for Valentine's Day....

Preorder A Faerie Wedding:        Amazon           Kobo

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 
Stephanie Keyes is the author of the YA Fantasy series, The Star Child, which includes The Star Child, After Faerie, The Fallen Stars, The Star Catcher, and The Last Protector. The Boy In The Trees, part of the Blood In The Shadows anthology, released in November 2015.
 
The Star Catcher won first place in the 2014 Dante Rossetti Young Adult Novel Awards—Mythological Category. The Star Child was a finalist in the 2015 BTS Magazine Reader's Choice Awards. Keyes was also selected as a 2015 Rutgers University One-On-One Plus Conference mentee. She's an active member of SCBWI.
 
Steph lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with Mr. Keyes, her boys, Hip-Hop and Bam-Bam, and dogs Duncan MacLeod and Princess Riley. Steph is a hopeless romantic and Whovian who's shamelessly addicted to Nutella and spontaneous singing.
*Author photos courtesy of Kristina Serafini Photo
Website: http://www.stephaniekeyes.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Stephanie-Keyes-Author/150860604966160?ref_type=bookmark
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/StephanieKeyes
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/stephaniekeyes/
Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/stephkeyes
Google+: https://plus.google.com/101104903861657395788/posts

Covers can make or break a book. They have to be easy to see even in Thumbnail size. They have to be readable and engaging. Check out this fabulous cover for Wende Dikec's upcoming release: Tiger LIly.... great cover, right??

Lily Madison thought dying because of a bad manicure was the worst thing that could happen. She was wrong.

Waking up in the hospital and realizing she’s being stalked by an entire herd of naughty little ghosts turns her entire world upside down. She begins to doubt her own sanity until she realizes she isn’t alone. A Goth girl, named Zoe, can see the ghosts, too.

Most of the ghosts look like fuzzy blobs, but one is not blobby at all. He’s a very hot, very annoying dead guy named Nick. Although they dislike each other on sight, Nick soon realizes Lily is his only hope. With the help of Zoe and Mr. Wan, the manicurist who almost killed her, she has only days to get Nick and the other ghosts back where they belong or the whole world will be in terrible danger.

But sending the ghosts back means saying goodbye to Nick forever, and Lily isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to let him go.

​About the Author:
National award winning author Wende Dikec writes Young Adult speculative fiction with romantic and humorous elements. An avid traveller who spent many years abroad, she now lives in a small town in Pennsylvania with her husband, three sons, a puppy named Capone, and a very well used espresso machine.
She can be found on the web at www.wendedikec.com.

The Delightful Dessert: Trifle

One thing I’ve found while writing historical romance is that people of the upper classes eat both often and well. And the Regency period was no exception. My Regency novella, A Kiss Beneath the Mistletoe, begins with a special meal. A birthday celebration with the heroine’s favorite dessert: trifle.

If you don’t know, trifle is a layered dessert using stale cake soaked usually in sherry or other spirits, combined with custard, fruit, and whipped cream. My mouth is watering just writing about it. :)

Trifle evolved from an earlier English dessert called fool, the recipe dating from 1587. It was a thick cream flavored with sugar, ginger, and rosewater. Early in the 17th century, eggs were added and the cream became a custard that was then poured over stale cake soaked in some sort of alcohol. Trifle was originally invented to enable cooks to use up stale cake.

The recipe that Jenny, my heroine, might have had for her 18th birthday party, would likely have been something like this from Martha Lloyd’s Recipe Book, published in 1806:

“Take three Naple Biscuits cut them in Slices dip them in sack lay them in the bottom of your dish, then make a custard of a pint of cream & five Eggs & put over them then make a whipt Syllabub as light as possible to cover the whole the higher it is piled the handsomer it looks.”

Today our modern palates prefer the use of lady fingers or sponge cake (rather than the hard biscuits), sprinkled with rum or sherry or port. Layer the bottom with the soaked lady fingers, then add layers of custard or vanilla pudding and fruit (blueberries, strawberries, kiwi, bananas) and repeat, ending with whipped cream on top, garnished with a strawberry or mint leaves.
​
A truly spectacular dessert for your holiday or any festive occasion.

TAG LINE
Is one kiss ever enough?
​
BLURB:
Jenny Crowley has been duped! At her eighteenth birthday celebration her parents announce that instead of having the London Season she’s dreamed of for years, Jenny has been betrothed from birth to Alexander Isley, son of family friends and heir to a title. A distraught Jenny refuses point-blank to marry Alec, and when her aunt offers to whisk her away to a Christmas house party, complete with many eligible young bachelors, Jenny jumps at the chance to enjoy a variety of entertainments, be courted, and perhaps fall in love.
​
Alec Isley is between a rock and a hard place. He desires a marriage with Jenny no more than she does, but when his family’s dire financial status is revealed, he follows Jenny to the house party in hopes of convincing her to marry him after all. When he discovers who else is courting her there, Alec is frantic to keep her from making a dreadful mistake. Struggling with new-found feelings for his childhood friend, can Alec convince her of his love in time to save her from being ruined under the mistletoe?
 
BUY LINKS:
AMAZON:http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0193TFJ22?*Version*=1&*entries*=0
SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/599034
iTUNES: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1067520718
 
EXCERPT:
Dishes of trifle finally sat at each place. Jenny itched to pick up her spoon. She could taste the berries and cream even now. She glanced at her father, who at last smiled and nodded.
“So, Charles, when is the wedding to take place?” Great-Aunt Henrietta trumpeted the question from her place at the mid-point of the table, her spoon already busy with her dessert.
“Wedding, Aunt Henrietta?”  Papa’s voice rose in a question, but he cut his eyes toward Mamma, who sent a frightened look at Jenny. 
Odd, but no more so than her great-aunt’s question.  Whose wedding was she talking about?
“Yes, Charles.  Jenny’s wedding to young Alexander here.”  Henrietta nodded across the table to Alexander Isley, who sat up abruptly, staring at her aunt with wide eyes, as though he thought the old lady quite mad. 
Jenny thought so herself.  A prickly sensation began at the back of her neck. She shot Alec a quick look. No, his face wore an expression of outright confusion, his brows knit over his dark brown eyes.
“She’s eighteen now, and you promised me when she was of age I’d see her married into the Isley family.  I have lived for the day that I could announce to the world that one of my family had moved into the titled class.”  She glared at Mama, who blushed and turned to Jenny.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Jenny darling,” Mama said, patting her hand.
That might have reassured Jenny, except her mother’s wide, staring eyes said yes, it was that bad. Maybe worse. Her heart began to pound and the sweet trifle turned sour in her mouth.
 “Not bad?” Great-Aunt Henrietta swung her gaze to Jenny and fixed her with a cold blue-eyed stare. “You should be grateful, girl. Your parents and I have arranged for you to take your place in society, as a titled lady in due time.”
“It’s not true is it, Mama?”  Jenny could barely choke out the words in a voice that didn’t sound like her own at all. Too high, too soft. A peculiar roaring in her ears made her head light.
“Yes, my dear, it most certainly is.”  Great-Aunt Henrietta nodded with such vehemence that the feathers on her green velvet turban bobbed back and forth.  “When your mother refused to marry up, I swore none of your family would ever see a penny of my money.  Then when you were born, she came to me, begged me to reconsider, and promised that you had already been betrothed to the Isley heir here.” She pointed a finger at Alec who looked like he might dive under the table.  “She showed me the betrothal papers.”
Everyone at table sat in stunned silence.  Jenny looked down at her hands, clasped together so tightly her knuckles showed white.  All her dreams of excitement and romance during her season had just exploded in the blink of an eye.  Then the real import of her great-aunt’s word sank in and her stomach twisted. They expected her to marry Alec? 

AUTHOR BIO:
Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical and contemporary romance.  She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager.  A romantic herself, she has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise.  She tries to incorporate all of these elements into her own stories. She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets.  When not reading or writing, she indulges her passion for the theatre, working with local theatres as a director.  She often feels she is directing her characters on their own private stage.
Jenna is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America as well as President of Chesapeake Romance Writers, her local chapter of RWA.
She has equated her writing to an addiction to chocolate because once she starts she just can’t stop.
 
Find Jenna Jaxon online:
BLOG:  https://jennajaxon.wordpress.com/
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/Jenna_Jaxon
FACEBOOK:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenna-Jaxon/146857578723570
 

KEY Change
(Assignment: Romance #3)
Barbara Valentin
Romantic Comedy, 236 pgs
Gemma Halliday Publishing
 
The first thing Sara Cleff, a hard-edged, shower-singing rock music critic, wants to do after following a band on tour is crawl into her nice comfy bed in her well-appointed, optimally located vintage apartment. But before making it home, she learns her roommate-slash-boyfriend has apparently broken up with her while she was away on assignment and sublet their apartment out from underneath her. Ouch! When her key no longer fits in the lock, the last person she expects to find on the other side of the door is Andrew Benet, a wickedly gorgeous music director from a nearby church. 

Something about the brash music critic strikes a chord with Andrew, and he offers her the chance to stay on one condition—she has to join the choir at his church. While Andrew may hold the lease on Sara's apartment, does he have the key to unlock her heart?
 
Buy Links:  Amazon   B&N   Gemma Halliday  
iBooks    Kobo   Smashwords    Print
Follow the tour HERE
 
Excerpt:
Up as usual at the crack of dawn, Andrew trudged to the bathroom, almost forgetting to close the door behind him before he spotted Sara's bangles on the counter next to the sink. Reaching over, he shut the door and locked it.

Fifteen minutes later, he was showered, clean-shaven, and ready to go, except he didn't have to be at the church until four-thirty that afternoon. Unplugging his phone from an outlet in his room, he brought it with him into the kitchen, transferred Sara's clothes that she had washed the night before into the dryer and poured himself some coffee. He sat on a barstool, debated throwing a sweatshirt on over his plain, blue, short-sleeved T- shirt to ward off the chill, but started scrolling through his email instead.

His eyes, however, kept drifting over to Sara, out like a light on the sofa sleeper.
While most of her was wrapped in the blankets like a human burrito, with the sun starting to break through the bare branches of the ancient oak tree blocking the expansive bay window, he could see her face quite plainly.

Without all that the heavy dark makeup, he noted, she looked younger.

And kinda sweet, actually.

But then again, she wasn't talking.

Still, he was glad he invited her to stay the night before.

But what about tonight? And tomorrow night? And the night after that?

While he mulled the possibilities, she rolled over and stretched, arching her back and groaning as she did. Resuming her curled-up burrito pose, she opened her eyes and mumbled, "How long have you been sitting there?"

Looking at his watch, he admitted, "About a minute. Or five. Maybe ten." His cheeks suddenly felt a lot warmer.

With a loud yawn, she sat up. "I slept so good." Patting the thin mattress with her hand, she added, "So comfy."

The words hung in the air between them.

Sarcasm before coffee. Great.

Still, the sight of her in his pajama top seemed to lobotomize him. All he could do by way of a reply was nod.

With a shrug, she added, "Seriously, on a sleeper sofa—who knew?"

Snap out of it.

With no small amount of effort, he turned and glanced at the dryer. "Your clothes should be ready in about twenty minutes."

At that, Sara took a deep breath and yanked the covers back, revealing two impossibly long bare legs as she flung her feet to the floor.
​
Knowing full well that the sudden blast of heat he felt was not delivered by way of the gilded vents along the floorboards, Andrew got up to check the thermostat on the wall next to the upright piano anyway, mumbling, "Gotta love old buildings."

About the Author:
Barbara is an award-winning novelist and second-generation journalist. After spending a decade in maternity clothes, she has five boys to show for it and much fodder for her column, The Plate Spinner Chronicles, a long-running feature in the Chicago Tribune. A member of RWA's Windy City chapter, she still dreams of the day when her to-do list includes "Send NY Times book critic thank you note" and "Accept Godiva's request to be a taste-tester."
Contact email: spinninginburbs@gmail.com
Website   
Facebook
Amazon
Goodreads
Twitter
​

I love a sassy redhead who gets involved where she isn't supposed to be... Jamie Richmond doesn't plan on it, but she quickly is in the middle of a police murder investigation!

Blurb:
Jamie Richmond, reporter turned author, is doing research for her next book. Attempting to capture the realism of a police officer’s duties while on patrol, she manages to tag along for a shift with a state police trooper. A few traffic stops and a high speed chase later, Jamie’s ride takes an unexpected turn when she witnesses the trooper being shot.

Although it is not a fatal injury, Jamie becomes obsessed with unraveling the facts behind this violent act. While she is trying to sort out this puzzle, she becomes romantically involved with Malone, another trooper with a few mysteries of his own. Now Jamie’s attention is divided between a blooming romance and solving the crime which is haunting her.

Jamie begins to question the events that took place and exactly who could be behind the shooting. It was a devious mind. But who?

EXCERPT:
My mind raced through all of the things I had done in the past to scare guys away. Being pushy or too easy was one of them. Attacking them in the hallway was probably another. But I really wanted him to stay. I couldn’t tell if he’d made up his mind or not, so I jumped right in.
“Look, Malone. I’m not a kid. Neither are you. I’m not some cop-groupie. We’re both adults. We’ve met half a dozen times or more. We’ve talked, gotten to know each other a little. We’ve just spent a lot of time together over the last two days. We’ve got a lot…”
Somewhere in the middle of this speech, he stepped into the room, pulled me close and kicked the door shut behind him. Then his fingers were caressing my face as he leaned in close for a kiss.
“Jamie,” his voice was a soft, sexy whisper.
“…in common.”
“Jamie,” he repeated, gently kissing my mouth.
“Hmm.”
His lips traveled down my neck. “Sometimes…”
“Hmm.”
He was working his way back toward my ear. “You talk too much.”
The first time on the sofa was wild. There was no chance for foreplay. We both wanted it too much for that. Clothes were flung so far I didn't find my red bra until two days later. It must have bounced off the wall and slid behind the planter. After the initial rush, Malone introduced me to the romantic aspects of each room in my apartment. At one point after a warm bath together, I was on my stomach in bed and he proceeded to drive me crazy by slowly making patterns down my spine with one solitary fingertip.
Each time after the first started out slow and tender. A kiss here, fingers stroking there. ​

About the Author:
Mark Love (yes, that’s really his name) lived for many years in the metropolitan Detroit area, where crime and corruption are always prevalent.  A former freelance reporter, Love is drawn to mysteries and the twists and turns that mirror real life. He is the author of “Why 319?” and three books in the Jamie Richmond Series “Devious”  “Vanishing Act” and “Fleeing Beauty” and several short stories.

Love resides in west Michigan with his wife, Kim. He enjoys a wide variety of music, reading and writing fiction, cooking, travel, most sports and the great outdoors. You can find his blog at the link below and on Goodreads, Facebook, and Amazon. 
​
http://marklove024.blogspot.com/ 
https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard
https://www.facebook.com/MarkLoveAuthor
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B009P7HVZQ

Growing up... my dad has always been such a vital part of who I am. While we weren't close. He worked the swing shift at US Steel, I was a know-it-all teenager, we had a lot in common. I can't imagine not knowing who my dad or my family was...that has always been such a constant in my life.

Ms. Stine takes that image and writes a compelling story about a young lady who searches for that missing piece and finds other things along the way. I found the story very touching as Joss finds more about herself than her family along the way. But isn't that the best part of growing up?? You find out who you are and find out that you aren't exactly who you thought you were..... Here's a sneak peek for you.....

​EXCERPT:
Fate is testing me because just before bio, my heart practically blobs out on the floor. Will is halfway down the hall talking to Katya. She’s standing really, really close--girlfriend close.
I freeze, with my books clutched to my chest. Now, the evil slut is touching Will’s cheek. The sight makes me want to run up and yank her over-pampered hair out by the roots. Why’s he letting her do that? I’m ready to slap him next, after I get done with her. So, that’s why he never answered my texts.
Will’s voice inside whispers You need to trust me. That’s what he said to me at Z’s party. Not an easy thing to do. It goes against all of my raging doubts.
I march over and slip my arm around Will, claim every inch of space in front of him, which forces Katya to take a few steps back.
“Oh! Hey.” Will’s surprised tone oozes guilt. Or is that my inner-demon doing the reasoning for me?
Trust me, okay? His voice plays again in my head. It’s the only thing that powers me through this without freaking. He must have a reason for letting her do what she did.
I’ll ask him the why later.

See... GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY!! in Ebook and Print!
Heart in a Box  by Catherine Stine

BUY LINKS:  Amazon: http://amzn.com/B017VM7250
ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1059206934
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-heartinabox-1925744-149.html
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/heart-in-a-box-2
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/heart-in-a-box-catherine-stine/1122967577?ean=2940151079440

I'm always excited when friends drop by. Today Allyson Young is in the hot seat sharing some details about herself and her writing.... Take it away!!
                                               
1) Have you always wanted to be an author? I don’t know that I’ve always wanted to be an author. I’ve always been a storyteller. I could never just get to the point. I had to tell the story leading up to the event, the event itself and what happened afterwards! I probably made some people insane but never noticed anyone’s eyes glazing over. Except for my husband’s, lol. I’ve written all my life, from short stories as a kid to poems in high school. I wrote one poem in high school that caused the guidance counsellor to call my mom in for a “chat.” Apparently nice young ladies shouldn’t know that kind of stuff. I didn’t know it first hand, but I read a lot, so it was my mom’s fault! She let me read whatever I wanted.

2) What genre(s) do you write? I write contemporary dark erotic romance, no apologies. Love rarely comes easy-it takes hard work to maintain any relationship in my opinion. And I like a little kink. Or a lot. I don’t write humiliation or degradation. My heroines may have their hearts broken and repaired, but ultimately they have the power. The heroes eventually figure it out.

3)  Have you ever self published? Not yet. I’m moving in that direction though, because I might not find a publisher for a novel I’m working on.

4) Who or what inspired you to write your first book? I read an erotic romance, quite by accident. Truly. I just bought an ereader and was scrolling through the options to buy when I saw a free download. And I devoured it. Holy smokes. I knew I could write one too and I did. I dithered over submitting it though. I don’t have that kind of self confidence. I broke a cardinal rule-don’t submit to more than one publisher at a time. Didn’t know the rule. I got an acceptance from two and went with the first one to be honourable. And I’ve written 15 more since. I write because I love it. The money is secondary.

5) How many hours in a day might you write? As many as I can squeeze out. Sometimes I write five or six hours, sometimes eight, around my part time job and life. The days I manage only an hour are sad days.  But I do take weekends off. Discipline.

6) Are you a plotter or a pantster? I wake up with an idea or I’m driving and one pops into my head. Or I hear someone say something or observe someone or something and I’m off. I’m a pantster, big time.

7) Do you ever find yourself slipping away and becoming so immersed in your story it affects how you relate to others? I absolutely do. My husband will say, “One of those characters pissed you off again, right?” Right. And it’s almost always the hero. Sometimes I weep, literally, when I writing a scene of heartbreak and angst.

8) Are you in any of your books? Nope. Although I’d like to practice more of the erotic scenes in private!

9) What do your friends and family have to say about you writing? My family are fine with it as long as I can tear myself away to engage with them, understandably. They see how much I love to write and are supportive.  
www.allysonyoung.com .

Thank you Allyson... now lets hear more about your latest release...

Insurmountable, an erotic suspense, releases November 23, 2015 from Evernight Publishing.
                                       
Blurb:
Kidnapped because of her father’s wrongdoings, Bianca Fontaine is interrogated for any hint of his whereabouts by a man she has no reason to be drawn to. Who falls for their kidnapper? Especially an arrogant, hard man who is bound by duty—with those intriguing soft and caring qualities he hates to show. She’s learned the truth about her mother’s disappearance and her reality is suspect, except for the one constant—Ellis Valiant.
 
Ellis Valiant is indeed a hard man, but he’s already destroyed Bianca’s world and could make it worse if he doesn’t send her away. But when he finds her exploring her submissive side in the sex club fronting for his organization, his noble efforts fall by the wayside and he steps up as her Dom. Except Ellis harbors a secret, an insurmountable one, and Bianca will surely hate him when it comes to light.
 
Buy links/author links: 
 
http://www.amazon.com/Allyson-Young/e/B00A9WPAYK
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/allyson-young/
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Allyson+Young
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22Allyson%20Young%22?Ntk=P_key_Contributor_List&Ns=P_Sales_Rank&Ntx=mode+matchall
http://www.bookstrand.com/allyson-young
https://play.google.com/store/books/author?id=Allyson+Young
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/search?query=Allyson%20Young&fcsearchfield=Author
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/allysonyoung1
 
Excerpt:
Pushing her into the back seat of the closest SUV, his big hand on the crown of her head, between it and the door frame, invader number one climbed in beside her. The man who said she was worthless as a hostage got in behind the wheel.
Scrambling across the leather surface, Bianca huddled against the door, wondering if she might throw herself out and make a run for it. But where?
There was no ally in the traitor Mrs. Doucette and they’d probably shoot Max in retaliation. She prayed the housekeeper would care for her dog as she promised. The older woman had never been anything but kind to him, but then she’d been kind to Bianca too. Bianca chewed the inside of her cheek. Maybe her father would get Max back when he ransomed or came for her. She had to hold onto some kind of hope of rescue, maybe before things happened to her. Anybody with money at her schools was versed in possible kidnappings, and the lurid tales left a vile taste in the back of her throat.

The man beside her pulled off his hood, running his fingers through flattened hair. Bianca stared. She knew she was staring, but was incapable of doing anything about it. It was like looking at a carefully sculpted face of a Roman god. High cheekbones, deeply set golden eyes framed by a thicket of black lashes under dark brows, incongruous with the thick blond hair curling to his collar, and a chiseled set of lips. The door shut, plunging the vehicle into relative darkness as its light extinguished and deprived her of that rock star visage. Of a killer.

“Fuck, man. You let her see your face!”

His deep voice retorted, “It’s not like Fontaine doesn’t know who crashed his party, Dave.”

Over the grind of the ignition she heard the driver mutter, “And it’s not like she’s ever going home.” A shadow of fabric passed in front of the muted lights from the dash instruments for a moment as he too pulled off his mask, tossing it aside. Her chances of surviving this just narrowed from fifty to zero percent, and she desperately needed to pee.

They drove in silence, the other vehicles falling in behind to form a convoy as they bumped through the ruined gates and gained the main road. Aside from their initial comments, neither man spoke, and she too remained silent. Her thoughts clamored to be heard but she couldn’t put them in any real semblance of order. Kidnapped. Check. They were going to make her talk about her father. Check. They planned to try to ransom her. Check. Except they didn’t think that would prove fruitful. Wouldn’t her father move heaven and earth to get her back? Except he wasn’t a family-first kind of guy … she didn’t want to understand the inference but accepted it was huge. Nightmare. Check. She concentrated on her breathing and drew on her reserves when she really wanted to scream the roof down.

“What’s with her, Ellis?” The driver finally spoke up. “She hasn’t said boo since she gave up the old man. Must be her father’s daughter, eh?”

Feeling his eyes boring into her, she turned inward. Ellis. An unusual name. Had she heard it before?

“Plenty of time to talk later, Dave. You hear of shock?” Ellis spoke quietly.

“Maybe,” answered Dave. “Most women would be crying and carrying on though. Can’t say I don’t like her reaction. Easier to put up with. Although there’s a ball gag in the dash.”

Ball gag? She bit her lip and swallowed convulsively, an action so awkward it hurt her throat.

“You plotting, Bianca?”

Despite herself, she jerked when Ellis used her name. Had she really thought they wouldn’t know it? Especially when they seemed well apprised of other things involving her father. A thought right out of the blue struck her with the same impact as a blow to the face might. Did they know where her mother was?

“I expect an answer, little one.” The velvety threat wove through his voice.

She shook her head, not trusting her voice. His hand grasped her upper arm and dragged her closer. His scent overwhelmed her, leather, gun oil and male. “Answer me. Are you plotting?”

“No,” she whispered. She stared into his face, the flood of lighting from the other cars’ headlights giving him a faintly demonic look. Had Mike seen that look in his eyes before this Ellis struck him down?

He released her with a slight smile. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to it. If you try to escape you’ll be punished.”

​Easing back, building distance between them, Bianca tried to get her shakes under control. So far he hadn’t hurt her, despite his obvious ability to do so. She decided not to think about what this Ellis meant by punishment, and instead considered what might lay ahead if she cooperated. They seemed professional, like her father’s bodyguards, although surely Mike had taken a stupid risk—and paid for it. She didn’t particularly care for the man, but now tears pricked. His sacrifice had been for naught. She could hope they would treat her like a valuable commodity—until she wasn’t.