Best Romantic Suspense Authors Novels & Stories

he interrupted. “Stop following me Jax,” I commanded establishing my authority changing the conversation because at the end of the day he was just a massive fan of mine. “No, I want recommendations on books, preferably the slow burns with two people trying to fight their connection when they were soulmates from the moment they met but they were blind.” I know what he was doing. He was trying to describe our romance but ours was a tragedy, not a romance in my books anyway. I huffed annoyed and played his game, by saying “I would recommend Birthday Girl by Penelo-“

I watch intently with my brows raised as he removes a sizable oil painting from its place on the wall, unveiling a hidden safe that had been seamlessly integrated into the structure. I pivot on my heel and survey the colossal collection of books that had escaped my memory until now. The tips of my fingers delicately graze the uppermost edges of the book spines as my eyes glide over the titles. My fingers hover over one book in particular. It's a book that is very improper in Alessandros’ collection. This book is a historical romance novel written by Sylvia Day. One of Roses’ all-time favourite authors. Curiosity gets the better of me and I start to slide the book out, “come here, tesoro.” I

The more you do this, the more the book will be promoted. I believe you would be pleased to know that you contributed to the success of my life journey. You can read my other books: Sold To The Savage Alpha ( Werewolf genre) Blindfolded By My Ex-husband (Contemporary romance genre) You can search for my male lead books as well: THE DIVORCED BILLIONAIRE (Urban/ realistic genre) From Squalor To Splendor (Urban/ realistic) Thank you so much as you do so. I love y'all.

The moment the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor, I bolted through the main lobby and burst out through the glass doors into the bright afternoon sun. I stood on the pavement, gasping for air, my eyes wildly scanning the street corners for Callan's car. There, parked right across the driveway, was a massive blacked-out Mercedes. As I stared, the heavily tinted black window slowly rolled down. Callan was sitting inside the car, resting his arm on the door frame with a dangerous, satisfied smile. He raised two fingers and gave me a lazy wave. Fear flooded my bloodstream. My knees went weak. He was dangerous—a ruthless man who controlled armies of criminals and owned half the city. H

" I'd heard the stories. I'd read the newspaper articles. It sounded like a bunch of bored reporters who wanted to centralize the drama. Nobody could cause as much trouble as people blamed them for in this town. "They're fine. I'll eat chocolate and read a book." I hold up my copy of the latest romance, the naked man chest with a pair of dog tags hanging from his neck reminding me too much of Elliot. "Okay," he relents. Then, without warning, he tugs me closer bringing his hand around my neck until our heads meet in the middle space of the truck. His lips are tender and sweet as they find mine. It's a promise for what's coming later.

I couldn't think of a worse hell. "Lennox, I'll get to the bottom of this." I nodded, unsure if the awful images in my mind would come bubbling out if I spoke. "You read the accusations?" she asked. I nodded again. The list came together in my mind: murder, abuse, hiding evidence, coercion of a judge, illegal activities including prostitution. Then it hit me. "The letter blamed me for Melissa Summer's disappearance. Who would have any knowledge of that? And prostitution? That has to be referring to Infidelity." I thought some more. "The writer called Charli Alexandria. It seems as though only her family uses that name for her."

Slow and soft and entirely unhurried, the kind of kiss that had nothing to prove and everything to give. When it ended, I settled back against his chest without a word. His arms tightened around me, and I closed my eyes, finding the steady beat of his heart under my ear and letting it do what it had been doing all night. Neither of us said anything else. We simply held each other in the quiet dark of the apartment and let sleep come gently, finally safe inside the truth of what we both felt. The sound hit before I was fully awake. A crash so loud and so violent that I was sitting upright before my eyes had even properly opened, my heart already slamming against my ribs with the particular ur

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.

The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha. Damon knight claiming his only precious possession as his. But not as a possession but as his love. His first and last love. Damon fell on her sweaty body as they both ride their pleasure and came to an end. His face was dug deep inside her crook. The effect of drug turned off and his body started to get tired. But his heart still wanted to have her again and again. Moving away he stared at her face as her breathing was calmer than before. She opened her tired eyes and stared in his dark gaze

"You're a part of his world now, whether you like it or not." The next few days were a blur of research and half-hearted attempts to return to my normal life. Alex and his dark secrets felt like a siren call, impossible to ignore. I found myself at "Le Chateau de Sade" again, the BDSM shop, my thoughts racing with images of Alex and the bond between us. The scent of leather and musk filled my nose as I perused the racks. The shopkeeper, a knowing smile playing on her lips, watched me from behind the counter. She knew, of course. They all did. The supernatural community of New Orleans had a way of finding out these things. "Looking for something in particular, darling?" she purred.