Helen Hirsch

As I laid there waiting for sleep to take me. I was startled as my eyes drifted they landed on a human shaped shadow again by the bathroom door. I tried to roll. Nothing happened. Scared now, I tried to reach my phone. My arms wouldn’t move. My breathing was getting rapid. The only thing that would move is my eyes. Why can’t I move? From the corner of my eye, I saw it. The shadow moved from the doorframe towards me. It was an ambiguous huge male human shape with a hat on its head. Once it reached the bed, it stopped. Less than a foot from me and I couldn’t make out any details. My heart was racing, and my breathing was ragged. Male knuckles traced my jaw from my ear to my chin. The touch was gentle. Intimate even. A husky, seductive chuckle filled the air that still smelt of the candle. “I know what you need little gazelle.” The shadow shimmered. Now I could see the details. He was at least six foot two. Dark skin, bald head, and wearing jeans that clung to his muscled legs. An unbuttoned dark purple shirt displayed his taunt chest. The moonlight showed his beautiful smile as he leaned towards me. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Shhh. I’m going to make it all better.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Vivienne needed a get away from the stress of her life. Having heard her best friend sing the praises of Helen, GA. she decided to spend a week in cute cabin and decompress. Instead her dreams are invaded by a mysterious sensual man with swirling purple eyes. Soon she wonders if he’s more than just the man of her dreams.

My father died of a serious illness. One day before his funeral, my fiancée returned home to get married to her crush. When I confronted her about her actions, she got annoyed with me. "His father has cancer. His last wish is to see me marry him.” "I just want to do a good deed. Can you stop being so selfish?" When I called her that night, it was her crush who picked up the call. "Helen's showering right now. I'll pass your message to her." I said nothing. All I did was hang up calmly. Later that night, my fiancée finally called me. She sounded exhausted. "I'll be having my wedding reception soon. Don't bother me with your dad's funeral." This time, I continued staying silent. However, I got rid of my engagement ring and canceled all of our engagement plans.

"This brutally romantic mafia love story will grip you!" ~#1 New York Times bestselling author Helen Hardt Arranged-marriage, age-gap, Mafia/cartel romance Capo to the Luciano Famiglia was my birthright. The cruelty needed to succeed in this life has been beaten into me since I was a young boy. My father, Vincent Luciano, taught by example and with the slap of his hand. My independent streak took me down paths my father would never have gone. With our enemies gaining strength, it is my idea to attempt an alliance with an unlikely bedfellow. The Roríguez Cartel and the Luciano Famiglia are improbable partners, yet even Vincent Luciano can’t deny the possible benefits. The only way to solidify the deal is for me to marry Catalina Ruiz, the eldest daughter of Andres Ruiz, a top lieutenant in the Roríguez Cartel. Catalina is young, beautiful, and thinks she understands the path she is being forced to follow. There is no way for her to know the monster she is about to wed. A man doesn’t become a made man at thirteen if he is capable of love. That emotion is beyond my scope of expertise. Saving the famiglia is my goal. And once this alliance is made, ours will be but the first of the brutal vows exchanged. Have you been Aleatha’d?

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."