Serial Killer Romance Books Novels & Stories

When was the last time you ate? Me: Uh… Dane: Seriously? Me: I have a bad memory. Dane: My palm is twitching. Me: Sir! Dane: Yes? Me: Are you saying you want to… Dane: Spank you? Yes. One hundred percent. I squealed quietly, as if he could hear me if I were too loud. Everything about Dane was intense. Even when he was joking, he was intense. I’m literally an abuse victim. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I like this? Why do I want this? This should scare me, but it doesn’t. I’ve read enough dark romance books with werewolf daddies, mafia men, and Doms to know it isn’t scary. That it can be good if done with the right person. The image of Dane Wetness pooled between my legs.

#Romance #Thrilling #Suspense #Action #Dramas This is going to be the best of best so don't miss any part. @Authoress Ricky Be expecting this next week readers. I love you all💓💓 Here is a blurb about the book

***** POWER AND TEMPTATION MAFIA SERIES( romance/erotic/betrayal)************ - BOOK 1 ITALIAN MAFIA -ITALIAN MAFIA 2/ SHES'S STILL MINE ************INDIVIDUAL STORIES************* - FEARLESS LUNA (WEREWOLF SEXY ROMANCE STORY) ***************A****N KINDLE / KINDLE UNLIMITED************************** - IVANOV, RUSSIAN MAFIA -FEARLESS LUNA T H A N K Y O U L A R A S O U L T A K E R

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

she whispers, gritting her teeth at me. "Take the damn book first. You can never reach it even if you jump with all your strength" She murmurs, gazing at me and taking the book and I bring her down. "What's this about?" I ask, leaning against the shelf and staring at her when she opens the book, putting her nose into it. "Serial killing," she groans as I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I see. You aren't picking your favourite one. Romance" "It sucks," she scoffs.

she gasped, eyes popping out with a twinkle of relief "You found me.That was quick." Hie guys kindly check out my other book here on goodnovel titled A BLOODSTAINED I DO. The book is a romantic suspence thriller i hope that makes sense haha. It speaks of two friends who fooled an 'innocent' blind girl into marrying an assassin but it seems she just might just be the the one fooling all of them. A tale of massive twists and turns and its COMPLETE. Do check it out you wont regret! Leave a review too! Much love

I cut him off. The words came out sharp and direct. I wasn't interested in preambles. I wasn't interested in carefully constructed sentences. I wanted a straight answer and I wanted it now. Eric looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded, like he had expected exactly that. "My name is Eric Carrington," he began, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a different weight entirely. "I run one of the largest criminal syndicates in this country. I control a network of underground operations across the city—the casinos, the clubs, the trafficking of weapons, territories, everything that moves in the dark in this city moves because I allow it to.”

My first night back at the Davis estate, sleep was a stranger. The withdrawal hit hardest in the dead of night. Curled up in bed, I shook with chills, my pajamas drenched in cold sweat. Memories assaulted me: my dad getting shot, my mom's last scream, the red liquid Adrian handed me... I remembered my first kill at 18: a traitor. Francis had shoved a gun in my hands and said, "Show your loyalty." I pulled the trigger, and the bullet found its mark.

Instead, my hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if the weight of him was the only thing keeping me grounded in a world that had spun out of control. His fingers dug into my waist, possessive, as if he could hold onto me and keep the chaos outside at bay. I couldn’t deny the heat between us. It was suffocating, consuming. His lips found mine again, and the kiss turned desperate, like we were both aware of the ticking clock, of how fragile this moment was. Outside, the city was burning, the threat of another attack looming, but here, in this room, all I could feel was him. “You drive me insane,” I whispered, my nails digging into his skin as he pushed my legs apart, his body ho

The desk, the books, the searing heat of him, it all dissolved into the oppressive, grey light of a Tuesday morning filtering through her cheap blinds. “Bloody hell…” she muttered, burying her face in the pillow. She lay there, heart hammering against her ribs, her skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat, the ghost of his touch still tingling on her lips, the echo of his groan ringing in her ears. Her chest still heaved as though she had run a mile, skin damp with sweat, lips tingling from phantom kisses. It wasn’t the first time. For weeks she had woken from near-identical dreams, each one more explicit than the last, each one starring the same man, Dr. Davis Clarke, her Literature professor.