Jeffrey Archer New Book 2024 Novels & Stories

"There's my number. Text me, and we'll make plans." Before I can utter another word, the doctor comes in. "Officer Gray, looks like you're gonna need some stitches." The entire time my face is being sewn back together, my eyes and mind don't deviate from the petite brunette standing next to the doctor. If there's one thing I know for sure - Laurel Springs is about to get wild. END OF VOLUME SIX: DEVANTE Archer - Coming October 2022 About the Author Laramie Briscoe is the USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author of over 30 books.

Their power. Astounding. Surprise flared across Archer’s face, his brows lifting like I’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. He blinked, then leaned back with a slow, crooked grin. "Wow. This is fun," he drawled, blue and amber eyes gleaming with mischief and disbelief. "You mean to tell me three men who could fuck the world sideways are holding back on you? Either you’re lying, or…" He tilted his head, studying me harder. "Or they’re playing a damn long game."

“Demi, if you can hear me… I’m okay. I’m alive. They’re… they’re taking care of me.” A sob caught in my throat. He was alive. Really alive. His expression intensified, his hand coming up slightly, as if he could reach through the screen. “But listen to me. You have to listen. Don’t trust her. Don’t trust anything she shows you. She’s lying, Demi. She’s—.” The feed glitched. Jeff’s image distorted, freezing mid-sentence. New text scrawled across the screen beneath his frozen face. >The Architect is disoriented. His memories are fragmented. His reality is not to be trusted.

Heather doesn't usually get up at noon because she wants to; instead, she departs as soon as she wakes up in the morning to read a book or go for a stroll down the river on her own. When Archer lifted Heather's blanket, he saw the lady laying on her bed, looking delectable. But even when Archer notices this, he is perplexed as to why he is still on the fence. However, he had become frustrated with himself for not sensing Heather's wolfish aura until now. Before, he would have been able to know exactly where Heather was, but now, the only thing he has is great strength. Archer is well conscious that it is just a matter of time until Heather discovers that his wolf is no longer residing in his

“I’m going for a walk. I don’t think my crazy ex-situationship is going to find me all the way out here. He always hated Central Park.” Archer’s abs tighten as he pulls a deep breath in. “I’m coming with you.” A weird sound comes from my throat. Something between a gasp and a yelp. My eyes roam over his body. It’s very obvious that he’s already worked out. Too obvious. God, he’s really hiding a lot of sharp lines and defined muscles underneath those fancy suits. I can’t look away. “It looks like you’ve already, uh…” “Already what?” he asks, his tone annoyed that I can’t come up with words.

He chuckled as he pulled me closer to him, nuzzling his face into my neck. I can definitely get used to this… “Your skin is so soft.” He muttered, placing a soft kiss on my neck. “And you are so strong.” I commented, putting my hands on his muscled shoulders. Oh god! I bet he could pass for a male model! Or a wrestler! Archer didn’t have any tattoos covering his body like you would imagine for a mafia boss. He rather looked more like a rich businessman who liked to work out regularly to stay fit. And I guess that was the point…

Archer kept frowning into the space till it was over. He sighed as he replaced the phone, and then, walked back to the kitchen. “I’m going to have a quick shower,” he announced. Clarissa looked up at him. “Ok.” He walked away quickly before she found out his mood was ruined. Archer had a quick shower and decided to wear a turquoise shirt, on blue pants. He wasn’t sure it matched, in fact, he didn’t care. He grabbed a red shade from the glass shelf, wearing it smugly on his face. Next, he grabbed his wallet and car keys.

Why is every male in my life so damn frustrating? Archer takes another seat on the couch and Huxley paces in the corner of the room, but he's calm enough I believe it's okay to lower my hands. "Archer, tell me what happened." My heart thrums loudly in my chest. I'm too agitated to sit down, so I stand a few feet from the couch listening as he talks. "I was running an underground gambling ring with Jensen. You remember him, right?"

Well, it is always nice to pretend to be ignorant if it is for the sake of not getting suspected. “I am a healer and I will always stay behind to treat the injured unless I am called to the frontlines. Still, thank you for your warning, captain.” Archer looks at me with a baffled expression before letting out a light chortle. “Honestly, your family doesn’t seem to have fear in their bones. I am jealous.” I did not make a comment about it. If I do, I am afraid that I might negate him. If anyone should be jealous here, it should be me.

Archer greeted politely, his tone calm and respectful, even as he set the gift bags neatly on the coffee table. Inside the bags: a massage device, nutritional supplements, a silk scarf, a men’s wristwatch, and the latest model of a high-end laptop—clearly meant for James. Archer had thought carefully about each one. Nothing too extravagant—he didn’t want to come off as flashy or arrogant. A massage chair had seemed too much for a first visit, but a handheld massager? Practical, thoughtful. Just right.