Saturday, October 17, 2015
Dark & Dangerous Boxed Set
Dark & Dangerous Boxed Set
*** 9 tales of dark desire from your favorite NEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY Bestselling Authors! ***
Over 2500 pages of hot & dangerous alpha males - On SALE for a LIMITED TIME! These books cost over $20 to purchase separately, but you can get them now for only $0.99! So grab this deal before it's gone!
Delicious dark romance, toe-curling suspense, and sinful pleasure, all packed into one boxed set. We've gathered all your favorite Dark Romance and Suspense stories and combined them into one scorching bundle. These possessive alphas, sexy bad-boys, and savage heroes will claim your heart and leave you begging for mercy.
This anthology contains:
~ Mr. X by Clarissa Wild
~ Gypsy Brothers: Part 1-3 by Lili St. Germain
~ Overwhelmed By You by Nashoda Rose
~ Owned by M. Never
~ Breathe by CD Reiss
~ Epiphany by Gemma James
~ His Witness by Vanessa Waltz
~ Love The Way You Lie by Skye Warren
~ Irrevocable by Skye Callahan
I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked at the rope, ignoring the pain biting into my wrists. Hysteria wouldn’t help my situation, so I held it in. In fact, from what I knew of the Hangman, my cries and pleas would only heighten his pleasure…his arousal. Vomit burned in my throat, accompanying the rancid taste of fear, but I forced my eyes open anyway.
He sparked the lighter to life, and the flame illuminated his face. Malevolent eyes peered at me, two expressionless voids holding no remorse for what he’d done to all of those other women.
For what he was about to do to me.
His expression distorted into something unrecognizable, and it took a few seconds to realize who towered over me. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
“Why?” My voice broke on the question, but he didn’t answer. A tear slid down my cheek as acceptance nicked at my composure. I wasn’t getting out of this. Aidan would find my body—I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. The bastard would dangle my death in front of him like a trophy. A muffled sob escaped. Not panicking was impossible.
For all the times I’d witnessed the murders of other women in my dreams, I’d failed to see my own.
Through the haze of sleep, I felt hands on me. Cold and rough. I thought for a fleeting moment that it might have been Kyle. Then, I remembered our break up. It had happened weeks ago, but maybe that part was the dream. My memory was fucked and I couldn’t latch onto a thought long enough to ride it out of the fog.
Too many hands. They groped and pulled—rough against my skin and digging into muscle and bone. I tried to retreat, my back pressed into a hard surface beneath me, and my nostrils filled with the smell of musk and damp stale air. I had no idea where I was, or how I’d gotten there. I kicked and gasped, trying to get back to the surface where reality lurked, shimmering in the distance, but just out of reach, like the sun on the surface of the water during a dive.
A hand latched onto my hair and held my head back. My eyelids were finally freed from the sticky muck that held me in semi-consciousness, and I opened them to find myself staring up into unfamiliar green eyes. I only held his gaze for a few seconds—if that—but it seemed like it lasted for hours as my brain fought to categorize the details. Its useless attempt to understand what was going on. The man clutching my hair had vivid green eyes, but they may as well have been black given the emotionless void they displayed. His hair was shaggy, brown with a mix of grey, the same colors that stood out in his unkempt stubble. As if he needed any help looking rough. He exhaled and his breath settled over my face, reeking of booze and cigarettes. The smell made me queasy, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that, as another set of hands tugged at my jeans.
My gaze traveled around the room, taking in the small crowd. At least half a dozen men surrounded the table where they had me spread out like a holiday feast. All dressed differently, from ragged tank tops to well-fitting dark button-down shirts, but they all projected an air of unchecked danger. Necks marked with tattoos, hands covered in callouses and scars. Scruffy faces accented their sneers and smirks, as they stood above me staring down with eyes starved of humanity and full of lust.
Apparently, they didn’t expect me to put up a fight, because aside from the hand tangled in my hair, no one seemed concerned with keeping a tight grip on me. Probably because they outnumbered me, and I assumed they would have no problem beating the crap out of me as I struggled. They’d downright enjoy it. Unfortunately, I didn’t fully consider how that scenario would play out. I bucked and managed to knee the one pulling on my waistband in the face. He grunted, but I can’t imagine I inflicted as much pain as his retaliatory blow to my ribs. I sucked in air and rolled, curling around the injury and gasping for each painful breath as the sickening throb exacerbated my confusion.