What Are The Best Selling African American Books Right Now?

I'm sold into the underground and turned into an anthropodermic fan, suffering endless days of humiliation. It isn't until my spine shatters from a hammered nail that my brother—Daxon Smyth—and my fiance—Joshua Moore—finally arrive. The two men who've doted on me for 20 years swear to make the guilty pay in blood. And I think my salvation has come. But when I overhear their words, I realize the truth—every torment I've suffered is of their doing, all to make me behave and stop me from competing with the true heiress they've found. When another man carries me away from that place, they lose their minds and scour through all ends of the world, trying to find me.

"What!" Ethan says in his all too familiar deep rude voice. "You hit me, which caused my coffee to spill all over me," I say, pointing out the obvious. "So, what do you want me to do about it," He speaks like he has done nothing wrong "You are supposed to say sorry," I say in a duh tone "And why should I." "Because that is what people with manners do." "I know that, but you don't deserve sorry from me." "Wow, really, and why is that." "Because black bitches like you don't deserve it." "I have told you times without number to stop calling me that," I say getting angry with his insults "Make me," Ethan says, taking a dangerous step closer to me. I don't say anything, but hiss and walk past him. I don't know why I even expected him to say anything better. It is Ethan, after all. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is a story about two people who knew how to express the word hate more than anything else to one another. Ethan hates Adina more than anything in the world and would give anything to see her perish into thin air. While on the other hand Adina could careless about Ethan other than the fact that she won't let him walk all over her with his arrogant character. What happens when a big incident changes all that. How do these two different people deal with a feeling that is supposed to be forbidden to feel for the each other. Read to find out how the person you hate the most is the one person you can love the most.

"I will be your mistress, Adrian. Just let my family live." Adrian lifted his glass of wine. A faint smile curved his lips. "I thought they would send me the adopted daughter," he said, "I didn't expect you." "Everyone said your brother spoiled you like a princess. Turns out that was just a joke." The tip of the pen paused, stabbing a small blot of ink onto the paper. I signed my name, calm to the point of silence. The contract would take effect in three days. Then, I would cut all ties with the Willis name. I traded myself for the survival of the Willis family and my own permanent release.

“I’d give up my whole kingdom to be with you. I want to be your Prince Charming.” Aria has a big heart but bigger problems. Her whole life is a mess thanks to her controlling stepmother. But when she’s knocked over- literally- by the hottest man she’s ever had the pleasure of tangling up her body with, everything changes. Henry Prescott, second-string rugby player for the Paradisa Royals, is funny, sweet, charming, and oh-so-sexy. He’s got a rock hard body and tackles her in bed as fiercely as he tackled her in the park. Knowing nothing about rugby, but absolutely intoxicated by his accent, she finds herself falling for him. There’s only one problem: Henry Prescott doesn’t exist. The man she thinks she loves is actually Prince Henry, second in line for the throne of the nation of Paradisa. He’s the man who Aria’s entire department has to impress for trade relations. And that makes Aria’s stepmother’s plans even more dangerous. He’s the man who could destroy her world or make all her dreams come true. He lied about being a prince… did he also lie about being in love? NYT Bestseller Krista Lakes brings you this brand new sweet-and-sexy royal romance. This standalone novel will have you cheering for an American princess’s happily ever after.

He shouldn’t have imagined her lying naked on his bed. She shouldn’t have imagined his devilishly handsome face between her legs. But it was too late. Kiara began noticing Ethan's washboard abs when he hopped out of the pool, dripping wet after swim practice. Ethan began gazing at Kiara’s golden skin in a bikini as a grown woman instead of the girl next door he grew up with. That kiss should have never happened. It was just one moment in a lifetime of moments, but they both felt its power. They knew the thrumming in their veins and desperation in their bodies might give them all they ever wanted or ruin everything if they followed it. Kiara and Ethan knew they should have never kissed. But it's too late to take that choice back, so they have a new one to make. Fall for each other and risk their friendship or try to forget one little kiss that might change everything. PREVIEW: “If you don’t want to kiss me then... let’s swim.” “Yeah, sure.” “Naked.” “What?” “I always wanted to try skinny dipping. And I really want to get out of these clothes.” “What if someone catches you... me, both?” “We will be in the pool, Ethan. And no one can see us from the living room.” I smirked when I said, “Unless you want to watch me while I swim, you can stay here.” His eyes darkened, and he looked away, probably thinking the same when I noticed red blush creeping up his neck and making his ears and cheeks flush. Cute. “Come on, Ethan. Don’t be a chicken...” “Fine.” His voice was rough when he said, “Remove that sweater first.”

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."