Romance Thriller Mystery Books Novels & Stories

Here is a list of my current books: *A Rancher's Fall (Romance) *A Chance At Love (Romance) *A Hint of Misunderstanding (Werewolf Romance) Thank you again. Happy Readings

] 4|Evan ~ CEO/Billionaire Romance [Devin’s spin-off, but it can be read as standalone] 5|Falling For My Husband ~ Mafia Romance 6| A Game With No Rules ~ Mafia Romance 7| HellBound: The Last Tribute ~ Fantasy/Mystery Romance Lastly, this novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Don't forget to follow me on lnstagram Castiel.Lj.

“She’ll probably spend the whole holiday in here if you let her.” I walked the aisles slowly, trailing my fingers over the books. Classics. Thrillers. A whole section of contemporary romance—Mirabel’s doing, mostly. She’d started collecting them in high school, said they were “escapist but smart.” I’d never read them. Too many happy endings. Too much hope wrapped in pretty words. I pulled one down at random. Dark cover, brooding man in a suit, and title written in gold foil: Claimed by the Billionaire. I snorted softly, then slid it back.

If you’re interested in an unhinged, obsessive mafia romance check out my other book: HIS BRIDE BY FORCE. If you’re interested in second chance romance with a feisty female lead check out: REIGNITED BONDS. Love you guys, lots!!!

I pressed my legs together as I walked, trying to steady myself. The girls' words repeated in my head. Enemy. Consequences. Mousy librarian slut. I touched my lips again. Remembering the passion. The connection. Josh was worth it. I hoped. The night had been magical, romantic, and even erotic amidst the tension… But now danger loomed.

She raised her brows. “Seriously?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, seriously! Ah yous should check it out too, come I’ll read it out to you, it’s great!” She clapped her hands in excitement. “No thank you, you know I don’t read romance,” He shook his head. “But it’s a unique one,” She protested, “A popular mystery/thriller writer is thrown inside her own novel! How cool is that?” “Hmm?” he raised his brows. “Did it pick your interest?” She wiggled her brows. “Ah, the guy has the same name as you, by the way,” She added.

Other Books by the Author . . . 1. Baby's Daddy — Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery 2. The Third Side of the Coin — Horror/Suspense 3. Her Dilemma — Pregnancy-Romance/Billionaire 4. The Rancher's Heart — Romance/Single-Father 5. A Week of Batching — Mystery/Suspense . 6. Chronicles of an Amnesiac — SciFi/Mystery/Short Story 7. On Air — Billionaire/Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery

Eyes that will probably hunt her for the rest of her life after this case. Was it worth the risk, pursuing this friendship? Could she even call it a friendship when the two of them were obviously trying to get into each other's pants again? Having a romantic relationship as an agent is, admittedly, difficult. She had seen romantic relationships fail and gone through a couple of rough ones herself. That was why she had decided on not pursuing one and occasionally getting laid with a stranger. But this stranger had a name and a penchant for twisting her panties in a bunch. Charlie's phone vibrated on the table. With an apologetic look at Maddox, she read the message from Jake.

On the body of the case was a little note: FIGURED YOU’D LIKE THESE -X. My curiosity heightened as I tore open the case, and I gasped once I saw what was inside. Books- novels to be precise, all stacked neatly in the case. As I glanced through their titles, I noticed they were thrillers and horror genres, a bit of romance too. My toes curled in excitement and a grin spread across my face as I looked through all of them. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d figured I’d like them; he always figured everything about me.

His thumb moved in the small circle against my pulse point, the gesture I had once found reassuring and now read as the inventory it had always been, the confirmation of what was present, what was contained, what was his. "You don't need them," he murmured. "You have me." I stood in the corridor of Brocandale Manor with his hand on my wrist and Elena's retreating footsteps and the empty bedside table and the missing evidence and the two notes from the poetry book gone and the grandmother's locket somewhere in the purse he had taken while I slept.