Jasinda Wilder

I wasn't always in love with Colton Calloway; I was in love with his younger brother, Kyle, first. Kyle was my first one true love, my first in every way. Then, one stormy August night, he died, and the person I was died with him. Colton didn't teach me how to live. He didn't heal the pain. He didn't make it okay. He taught me how to hurt, how to not be okay, and, eventually, how to let go. Nell Hawthorne is in love with her life-long best friend, Kyle Calloway. Things are great, and they're in love, young, full of promise. Then Kyle dies in a tragic accident and Nell is forever changed. She meets Kyle's older brother Colton at the funeral, and there's a spark, but it's wrong and they both know it. The moment passes, and they both move on with life. A couple years later, they meet again in New York City, and Colton realizes that Nell has never really gotten over Kyle's death, and seems to be harboring a deeply rooted pain, something like guilt, perhaps. He knows he shouldn't get involved, but he can't help himself. Trust doesn't come easily for either of them, and they both have demons, Colton especially. Together, they learn the purpose of pain and the meaning of healing, and the importance of forgiveness.

Falling Into You

The first time it happened, it seemed like an impossible miracle. Bills were piling up, adding up to more money than I could ever make. Mom's hospital bills. My baby brother's tuition. My tuition. Rent. Electricity. All of it on my shoulders. And I had just lost my job. There was no hope, no money in my account, no work to be found. And then, just when I thought all hope was lost, I found an envelope in the mail. No return address. My name on the front, my address. Inside was a check, made out to me, in the amount of ten thousand dollars. Enough to pay the bills and leave me some left over to live on until I found a job. Enough to let me focus on classes. There was no name on the check, just "VRI Inc.," and a post office box address for somewhere in the city. No hint of identity or reason for the check or anything. No mention of repayment, interest, nothing... except a single word, on the notes line: "You." Just those three letters. If you receive a mysterious check, for enough money to erase all your worries, would you cash it? I did. The next month, I received another check, again from VRI Incorporated. It too contained a single word: "belong." A third check, the next month. This time, two words. Four letters. "To me." The checks kept coming. The notes stopped. Ten thousand dollars, every month. A girl gets used to that, real quick. It let me pay the bills without going into debt. Let me keep my baby brother in school and Mom's hospice care paid for. How do you turn down what seems like free money, when you're desperate? You don't. I didn't. And then, after a year, there was a knock on my door. A sleek black limousine sat on the curb in front of my house. A driver stood in front of me, and he spoke six words: "It's time to pay your debt." Would you have gotten in? I did. It turns out $120,000 doesn't come free.

Alpha

One year ago, I buried my husband. One year ago, I held his hand and said goodbye. Now I spend most of my days lost somewhere between trying to remember every smallest detail of our lives, and trying to forget it all. I fill my hours with work until I’m too exhausted to remember him, to feel anything at all. One year, 365 days—and then one knock at my door changes everything. A letter from him, a last request, a secret will: My dearest Nadia, Trust me, my love. One last time, trust me. Sometimes the epilogue to one story is the beginning of another.

The Cabin

So how did I get myself into this situation, you ask? Simple: desperation. When you're faced with being homeless and hungry or taking off your clothes for money, the choice is easier than you'd imagine. That doesn't make it easy, though. Oh no. I hate it, in fact. There's nothing I'd like more than to quit and never go into another bar again, never hear the techno beat pulsing in my ears again, never feel the lecherous gazes of horny men again. Then, one day, I meet a man. He's in my club, front and center. He watches me do my routine, and his gaze is full of hunger. Not the kind of desire I'm used to though. It's something different. Something hotter, deeper, and more possessive. I know who he is; of course I do. Everyone knows who Dawson Kellor is. He's People Magazine's Sexiest Man alive. He's the hottest actor in Hollywood. He's the man hand-picked for the role of Rhett Butler in the long-awaited remake of Gone With the Wind. He's the kind of man who can have any woman in the entire world with a mere crook of his finger. So what's he doing looking at me like he has to have me? And how do I resist him when he looks at me with those intoxicating, changeable, quicksilver eyes? I'm a virgin, and he's an American icon of male sexuality. I'm a stripper, and he's a man used to getting anything and everything he wants. And he wants me. I know I should say no, I know he's the worst kind of player...but what my mind knows, my body and my heart may not. And then things get complicated.

Stripped

Roth and I are on an open-ended tour of the world. Roth being Roth, this means missionary in Morocco, reverse cowgirl in Calcutta, bent over the bow of a houseboat in Hanoi, slow and sleepy on St. John. Anywhere and everywhere, in every conceivable position, and some I didn't know were possible. Life was pretty incredible. Until I woke up in his chateau in France, alone. On the bed next to me was a note. There were only four words: He belongs to me.

Beta

Ever, These letters are often all that get me through week to week. Even if it's just random stuff, nothing important, they're important to me. Gramps is great, and I love working on the ranch. But... I'm lonely. I feel disconnected, like I'm no one, like I don't belong anywhere. Like I'm just here until something else happens. I don't even know what I want with my future. But your letters, they make me feel connected to something, to someone. I had a crush on you, when we first met. I thought you were beautiful. So beautiful. It was hard to think of anything else. Then camp ended and we never got together, and now all I have of you is these letters. S**t. I just told you I have a crush on you. HAD. Had a crush. Not sure what is anymore. A letter-crush? A literary love? That's stupid. Sorry. I just have this rule with myself that I never throw away what I write and I always send it, so hopefully this doesn't weird you out too much. I had a dream about you too. Same kind of thing. Us, in the darkness, together. Just us. And it was like you said, a memory turned into a dream, but a memory of something that's never happened, but in the dream it felt so real, and it was more, I don't even know, more RIGHT than anything I've ever felt, in life or in dreams. I wonder what it means that we both had the same dream about each other. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. You tell me. Cade ~ ~ ~ ~ Cade, We're pen pals. Maybe that's all we'll ever be. I don't know. If we met IRL (in real life, in case you're not familiar with the term) what would happen? And just FYI, the term you used, a literary love? It was beautiful. So beautiful. That term means something, between us now. We are literary loves. Lovers? I do love you, in some strange way. Knowing about you, in these letters, knowing your hurt and your joys, it means something so important to me, that I just can't describe. I need your art, and your letters, and your literary love. If we never have anything else between us, I need this. I do. Maybe this letter will only complicate things, but like you I have a rule that I never erase or throw away what I've written and I always send it, no matter what I write in the letter. Your literary love, Ever

Forever & Always

War has taken everything from me. My family. My home. My innocence. In a country blasted by war and wracked by economic hardship, a young orphan girl like me has very few options when it comes to survival. Thus, I do what I must to live, to eat, and I try very hard to not consider the cost to my soul. My heart is empty, and my existence brutal. The one impossibility in my life is love. And then I meet HIM. * * War is hell. It takes a chunk out of a man's very soul to do the kinds of things war demands of you. You live with fear, you live with guilt, and you live with nightmares. If you haven't been through it, there's no understanding it. War leaves no room for love, no room for tenderness or softness. You gotta be hard, closed off, and ready to fight every moment of every day. Lose focus for a split second, and you're dead. Now the only thing that can save me is HER.

Wounded

When you make an enemy of a man like Vitaly Karahalios, there is nowhere on earth you can go to escape his wrath. He'll find you. He found me, he found Roth. He found Layla. He found us, and now the unthinkable has happened. Someone I love has been kidnapped. Again. This isn't a fairy tale. Not everyone will get a happily ever after. Sometimes we can't just walk away from the past. Love doesn't always save the day. The beast won't always get his beauty. But maybe, just maybe we can get our happy ending.

Omega

Nicholas Harris is a professional badass. Ex-Army Ranger, former personal security for the one and only Valentine Roth, mercenary, assassin, pilot, and my lover. After Roth and Kyrie holed up in their island fortress estate in the Caribbean, Nick started a private security contracting company: Alpha One Security. He hired the best of the best, the scariest, nastiest, toughest—and sexiest—security experts in the business. And now he has the mission of a lifetime: the three year old daughter of two A-list celebrities has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom. The twist? The mercenary and Russian mafioso who snatched the sweet, innocent little girl is a vicious, evil, sadistic thug with a grudge against Nick. And the fallout from this mission will be jet fuel on the flames of that grudge, pulling everyone around Nick into the vortex of violence and vengeance. Good thing we have the seven deadliest and most badass men on the planet on our team… And oh yeah, there’s little ol’ me: Layla Campari, mercenary-in-training.

Alpha One Security Book 1

Harris

I was a Sixty-Eight Whiskey—a combat medic. So when I hear someone shout “MEDIC!” training just kicks in. It’s automatic, immediate. I don’t think I even saw the guy whose leg I tended to, not really. All I saw was him. Zane Badd. His tuxedo fit him like he’d been sewn into it, and his eyes reflected the fury and the hardness of a combat veteran, but when he looked at me, he just…softened. By the time I had his brother patched, Zane and I were both covered in blood, and I knew I had to have him. The trouble with Zane isn’t getting him, it’s keeping him. And the trouble with me is, even if I could hold onto a man like Zane, I wouldn’t know what to do with him. It’s not in my nature, and if life has taught me anything, it’s to not trust anyone, least of all men like Zane. He’s a warrior through and through, hard, muscular, gorgeous, tenacious, and yet oddly tender toward me. Experience and instincts are telling me to run from Zane Badd as fast as possible, but my heart and my body are telling me to stay, to hold on and not let go. Yeah, it’s a conflict as old as humanity itself, but it’s brand new for me. * * * Life as Navy SEAL doesn’t exactly prepare you for normality. Yeah, I can tend bar and goof off with my seven crazy brothers, but what do I do when the woman of my dreams—dreams I didn’t know I’d had until I saw her—explodes into my life like a frag grenade? I’m trained to attack, to win, to survive at any costs, and figuring out what to do about a woman like Amarantha Quinn will take every scrap of tenacity and courage I possess. Combat is easy, it turns out, in comparison to facing your own fears and scars. And then sometimes, just when you think you’ve got it finally figured out, fate throws you a screwball and sends everything FUBAR.

Badd Ass

Jack Wilder

Love is never easy. It's especially difficult when you love a Marine. I knew the risk when I said "I do," but I chose to love anyway. In a flash, he was taken from me, and now I'm alone. Struggling and desperate. There's no hope, no future. Just the endless cycle of day-to-day survival. But a letter returned could change all of that. Hope and love often come from the last place you'd think to look, when you least expect it. * * * I was a lost, broken soul, tortured by the memories of what I'd endured. When I visited that old farmhouse in rural Texas, all I wanted to do was return the letter. Keep a promise to a friend. What I got was healing. Understanding. The chance to find a measure of peace when all I've ever known is war. We both lost everything. But in each other, we found something worth fighting for.

Captured

Evangeline du Maurier is the definition of a good girl. Attending Yale, raised with the best tutors and etiquette instructors, she's expected to toe the family line and be a trophy wife for a future senator. But when this good girl takes a quick getaway to clear her head, she finds a whole lot more than she'd bargained for. She finds herself in the arms of a bad boy. Baxter Badd. Big, hard-drinking, and as rough and demanding in bed as he is out of it, Bax may be the baddest brother yet...

Good Girl Gone Badd

When my husband Oliver died, my life ended. My purpose, my passion, my everything bled out with him on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. Ollie was an organ donor. His eyes, his brain, his lungs, his heart...parts of my Ollie went out and saved lives. Then his heart, beating in another man's chest, found its way back to me, and I found myself faced with an impossible choice: hold on to the pain and beauty of the past and the memory of the man I loved, or reach for a bold new future, knowing each heartbeat will be a reminder of all I've lost. * * * I wasn't supposed to live past thirty. My grandfather died at forty-five. Heart failure. My father died at thirty-eight. Heart failure. The doctors told me my whole life that I wouldn't see my thirty-first birthday. My heart was going to give out. It was just a matter of time: a rare blood type and an unusually large heart meant essentially zero chance of a transplant. I proved them all wrong...by dying on my thirty-first birthday. And then I woke up, alive, with another man's heart inside my chest, and his widow on my conscience. I spent my whole life preparing for death, and now I have to learn how to live. Only, as I soon discovered, living is the easy part. Loving, and allowing myself to be loved...well, that's a whole lot harder.

Yours

"Madame X invites you to test the limits of control in this provocative new novel from New York Times bestselling author Jasinda Wilder. My name is Madame X. I'm the best at what I do. And you'd do well to follow my rules... Hired to transform the uncultured, inept sons of the wealthy and powerful into decisive, confident men, Madame X is a master of the art of control. With a single glance she can cut you down to nothing, or make you feel like a king. But there is only one man who can claim her body--and her soul. Undone time and again by his exquisite dominance, X craves and fears his desire in equal measure. And while she longs for a different path, X has never known anything or anyone else--until now.."--

Madame X

Ever, I don't know who I am anymore. I'm a castaway. Lost. Drowning. I love you. That's the only true thing I know, and it's all I have to hold on to. I love you. I'll love you forever. Until the day I die, and I'll love you in whatever world comes after this one. I love you so much, Ever. I miss you. Dear Jesus, I miss you. Come back to me. For forever, and after forever, Caden

After Forever

Badd Mojo

I’m Harlow Grace, the newest, hottest face of Hollywood sex appeal, the woman every man wants and every woman wants to be... and I’m running away. I need an escape. I need to get away from the pressure, find somewhere I won’t be hounded at every step—an impossible thing to ask when I’m on billboards everywhere, from LA to Laos, Japan to Jakarta, Sydney to Siberia. So, I buy a yacht and hide out in the most obscure, remote, and unexpected place I can think of: Ketchikan, Alaska. Instead of a peaceful vacation, however, what I find in Ketchikan is trouble. The kind of trouble that’s six-plus feet of nerdy hotness I can't resist. I mean, who could? He's a genius with no idea how attractive he is, an enigma of contradictions: awkward yet confident, fascinating and flirtatious, yet aloof and evasive of physical touch. He's utterly and deliciously sexy in every way—and oh, so innocent. * * * I can recite all of The Iliad and The Odyssey in the original Greek. I can do advanced mathematics in my head and memorize entire books with ease. By the time I graduated high school I had been scouted by several international soccer teams and recruited by think tanks, the NSA, and the CIA. All of which is totally useless when a woman like Harlow Grace is standing in front of me, trying to talk to me, flirting with me, touching me. She’s Helen of Troy—a woman with a face that could launch a thousand ships, a woman wars are fought over. It turns out she’s not just beautiful—she’s famous. A Hollywood sex symbol. A superstar known all over the world… And yet somehow she’s interested in me?

Badd Boy

Just the name suggests power, dominance, danger...and the man himself? Oh man. I’ve never met anyone like him. Larger than life, exuding raw power. He’s a mountain of rugged, masculine sex appeal. But I have walls that no man, no matter how big he is, has ever been able to break through. Thresh doesn’t know how to take “no” for an answer, though. He’s determined to get past all my defenses and show me what I’ve been missing. The only problem is Thresh has enemies. Powerful, deadly, merciless enemies who have no problem using me to get to him. And Thresh is injured, one arm left useless. Can Thresh singlehandedly take on armed and dangerous men out to kill us AND my freight train of emotional baggage?

Alpha One Security Book 2

Thresh

Badd to the Bone

Ever and Cade, Sorry I vanished like I did. I'm not sure I can even explain things. I don't know when I'll be back. IF I'll be back. I'm not sure of anything, except that I love you, Ever. You're my twin, my best friend, and leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. I know you don't understand. Maybe you never will. I hope you don't, honestly. It would be easier that way. That's cowardly, I'm sure. Cade, take care of her. Love her, the way she deserves. The way you always have, for forever and always. If I could ask you anything, it's that you remember me as I was, and forget me as I am. I'm sorry, and goodbye, and I love you. Eden

Jasinda Wilder

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