C.N. Crawford

On the worst birthday of my life, I come home to find my boyfriend in bed with another woman. Within hours, I’m drunk, homeless, and pledging to stay single forever. And that is when the dangerously sexy Seelie King rolls through town, looking for fae like me.

Every generation, the king holds a competition for Seelie queen. But for reasons he won’t explain, Torin is looking for a charade, not a real marriage. So when I drunkenly sling insults his way, I have his attention.

When Torin offers me fifty million to participate, I think, “What have I got to lose?” The answer turns out to be “my life,” because my competition will literally kill for the crown.

And the more time I spend with the seductive king, the harder it becomes to remember it’s all supposed to be fake. Now, my life—and my heart—are one the line.

Frost and Nectar #1

Frost

Abigail | 

The thing about heartbreak was that I knew how to cover it up so I didn't bring everyone down with me. 

When I turned to look out the front, my breath caught at the sight of a castle on a hill. The place of dark stone and sharply peaked towers, with gothic windows that glittered under the winter sun. 

With a groan, they swung open to reveal a hall of stunning stonework. Pointed arches soared above us, and candles flickered in high iron chandeliers. Skilled stone masons had carved wicked-looking creatures beneath the arches-demons and dragons hewn from the rock in such a way that in the dancing candlelight, they almost seemed to be moving. But the most unsettling thing in this place was a set of ivory stag antlers jutting above the entryway, gleaming with ice. I couldn't explain why but as soon as my eyes larnded on them, a sense of dread slid over me. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew the castle didn't want me here.

"Because you like forming snap judgments about people you just met? Oh, shit. Do we have something else in common?" I shuddered. "We should probably stop talking before we get involved in a messy emotional entanglement." "Right." A smile ghosted over his lips, just for a moment.

The image was strange and beautiful, and I couldn't take my eyes off it. It entranced me, and yet, as I stared at it, a corrosive sorrow pooled in my chest. A sense of loss I couldn't name.

He removed his thick black cloak and stepped behind me, wrapping the garment around my shoulders. I pulled it close. It had retained some of his heat, and instantly, my muscles began to relax. I inhaled his scent, picking out the particular notes that identified him: moss, wet oak, and the faintest hint of pine straw. 

When was the last time you lost yourself in a pleasure so intense, you forgot your name? That you forgot your own mortality? Because that is what it means to be fae. I could make you ache with pleasure until you forget the name of every human who made you think there was something wrong with you." 

He raised his face again, and our clouds of breath twined together in the frozen night air. "Nor you me. That is why you are perfect, my changeling And that is why I crave your company" His eyes closed, and his lips brushed against mine. Even though the touch was light, it sent molten heat sliding through my core. The effect was instant, like I was melting over the ice.

We are a match made in hell, but I have never wanted anyone more, Ava Jones," he rasped.

There was nothing in the world now but our limbs entangled, our lips moving against each other, and our hearts pounding.

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