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Pretty Thing by JA Huss




Title: Pretty Thing
Author: JA Huss
Genre: Contemporary Romance
(Brother’s Best Friend)
Release Date: April 15, 2019



Blurb

My best friend made damn sure I knew the rules. His sister was strictly off limits.
UNTIL NOW.

KALI
Growing up it was always the three of us. Me, my twin brother, Kyle, and our best friend, Aiden. We were inseparable all the way through high school.

Did I picture myself with Aiden from the first moment I laid eyes on him back when we were eight? Hell. Yes. I fell in love with his soul that day. But he was always more Kyle’s friend than mine. And Kyle made damn sure we both know the rules.

I was strictly off limits. Forever.

But now Kyle is gone. Dead from a freak accident. And Aiden is still here. Looking hot as hell in his grown-up body. Looking sexy AF with those tattoos all over his muscular chest. Sad and in need of comfort.  Just like me.

AIDEN
Every time Kyle caught me lusting after his twin sister, Kali, he reminded me of the rule. “You were my friend first.”

If you want to get technical about it, I was Kali’s friend first, not Kyle’s. But that’s not how he saw it. One rule. That’s all we had between us. Just one. Stay away from my sister.

All these years I’ve honored that. I never broke his trust. Until now.  Because he’s dead. He left us. And being with Kali is the only thing that makes the pain go away.

I want Kali. I want to marry her, and have kids with her, and keep her in my bed forever.

But I want Kyle’s blessing too. And that’s something I’ll never get.







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Excerpt

Kali sighs a little. Her shoulders slump and her head lowers with them. “I’m not using you,” she says.
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m not using you either.”
“I’ve always liked you. And if you’d like to talk about that someday, we can. But…” She looks at me. Places her hands on the sides of my face. Blinks twice. “Not tonight, OK? Can we just not think too hard about it?”
It, meaning the sex. Or maybe the funeral. I’m not sure.
I decide to say nothing in response. I’m drunk, I’m sad, I’m horny, and I’ve got Kali Anderson sitting in my lap.
And we’re naked.
“Come here,” I say, placing my hands on her head. “I want to kiss you for a while.”
She smiles into the kiss that comes next. It’s a nice kiss. A slow kiss. One where our mouths fit together perfectly, and move just the right way, and there’s nothing awkward or distracting about it. It’s just nice.
After a little bit of that I find myself thinking too hard again.
Maybe slow and careful is a bad thing? Maybe what we really need tonight is something hard, and angry, and quick?
She reaches down between her legs and begins playing with herself again. Rubbing her pussy with the flat tips of her fingers as she stares into my eyes.
Yeah. Slow and careful is for another night.
I reach down and take my cock in my hand. Pulling and tugging on it. I’m already fully erect but there’s something intimate about masturbating in front of someone. And doing it together is even hotter.
Her other hand rests on my shoulder and a chill rises up my spine.
This girl. This pretty thing I’ve known almost my whole life. She is the dream girl. She is the one I’ve always wanted. She might even be the one I’ve always loved.





Author Bio

JA Huss is the New York Times Bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times in the past four years. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings.

Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world, the audio version of her semi-autobiographical book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively, her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017, and her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018.

She lives on a ranch in Central Colorado with her family.


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Kiss and Tell by Athena Wright




Title: Kiss and Tell
Series: Sin and Tonic #1
Author: Athena Wright
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: ME Kusel, SteamyDesigns
Photo: Lindee Robinson
Models: Dimi Bozinovski & Kailey Lundstrom
Release Date: May 13, 2019



Blurb

He’s completely off-limits.
I couldn’t stand the rumors it would cause. 
But I’m drawn to his dark and soulful gaze, to the wistfulness and pain in his voice when talking about his past.
His slightest touch sets my skin aflame. My lips beg for his kiss. My body hungers for his.
He says no one has to know. He says he can keep us a secret.
I’ve worked too hard to jeopardize my reputation, but I want to believe him. Can I trust no one will find out?
After all, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell…







Author Bio


Athena Wright is a USA Today Bestselling author of New Adult and Contemporary Romance. She loves to write about cocky men and the girls who tame their wild hearts. Hobbies include cooking, eating and living out her rock star dreams at karaoke bars. Athena is perpetually on the hunt for her next caffeine fix.


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The Gordon Place


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Horror
Date Published: 04/15/2019
Publisher: Lost Hollow Books

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Lost Hollow constable Graham Gordon just walked into his abandoned childhood home for the first time in twenty years. Local teenagers have been spreading rumors about disembodied screams coming from inside. Now, thanks to a rickety set of cellar stairs and the hateful spirit of his dead father, he might never escape.

Meanwhile, Channel 6 News feature reporter Afia Afton—whose father is the victim of a local decades-old hate crime—is meeting with town administrator Patsy Blankenship. Her mission is to develop a ghost story feature for a special to air on the station’s Halloween broadcast. When Patsy tells her about the screams at the Gordon place, the past and the present are set on a collision course with potentially catastrophic results.

Can Graham come to terms with his father’s past and redeem his own future? Can the murder mystery that has haunted Afia for most of her life finally be solved?

It’s a fight for the future and the past when spirit and flesh wage war at the Gordon place.



Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE EXCERPT



The only net gain for Graham, if it could be considered such, that had come out of the election so far was that he had been able to use the position to convince the town to turn his old homestead over to him for a song and a promise he’d clean up the blight. That had been another lark. In the same town board meeting that had seen him sworn in as constable there had appeared on the agenda a plan to demolish the old place as a means of curbing the juvenile delinquency it seemed to entice. The rumors being spread by the kids in town had reached the board’s ears, and they had come to the same conclusion he had: the place was turning into an attraction for vagrants and ne’er-do-wells. Therefore, tear it down.

When the time came for public input on the matter, he’d suddenly found himself standing—without having previously planned to do so—and arguing that the place had sentimental value for him and that he’d like a shot at restoring it. He might even turn it into some kind of tourist spot, an idea he’d come to by way of town administrator Patsy Blankenship, she whom he’d hung up on moments ago. She had already renovated one old local homestead into a bed and breakfast that hosted the occasional guest or local event. The board had balked at his idea at first, but after he’d promised to either clean up the blight or hand the old Gordon place back to the town for demolition within a year, they’d relented. Now he owned the home: a shelter for rats, snakes, vagrants, and bored teenagers. He had no idea where to begin.

Graham pushed the thoughts away. This was no time to go second-guessing his life choices and cost himself what little nerve he had summoned to search for trespassers. He sidled up the hall. The back of his shirt created a loud scraping sound against the faded and peeling fleur-de-lis wallpaper covering the entry hall, a remnant of his mother’s New Orleans roots. He left his own narrow trail of Wolverine sole prints in the dust on the floor, carefully avoiding stepping on the ones left by the previous visitor. The physical memories of life in the house came flooding back to him. The sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor. The sound of his father’s footsteps. Even the scrape of the wallpaper against the fabric of his shirt bubbled up memories of him dashing all over the house, running his hands and fingers over the walls as he did, just as any normal wild young boy might do.

The tiny hook and eye latch that had been meant to secure the cellar door was already undone when he got there. Graham didn’t know whether his father had initially installed that latch, but he’d always thought it a silly and unnecessary addition. The door to the cellar was no more than three uneven slats of painted pine carelessly supported along their backs by two horizontal two-by-fours. Large gaps between each slat rendered useless any attempt to keep the cooler air of the cellar out of the entry hall by just shutting the door. Besides, it had always managed to swing shut and stay closed on its own—even unlatched—which was one more reason the cellar had made for such an excellent hiding place.

A small wooden cabinet knob was mounted a couple of inches below the hook. Graham grabbed it and pulled. The door swung open easily on its spring hinges and without much complaint about the new tension; surprising after so many years of disuse. The ray from his Maglite spilled into the opening and revealed three splintery and slowly disintegrating steps, approximately one-quarter of the familiar set of plank stairs leading from the mouth of the door before vanishing into the damp darkness below. Graham felt for the light switch just inside the cellar door and flipped it on, but it produced nothing. He’d had service activated so he could begin work on the place. Maybe the power company hadn’t gotten around to it yet. That would certainly explain the state of the security light out front.

“Hello?” he shouted into the depths of darkness. “Lost Hollow Constable! Is anyone down there?”

There was no answer.

Graham stepped through the door. He’d covered only one tread before the sound of the creaking staircase started to get to him. There he paused, not allowing the door to swing shut behind him and not liking the soft and spongy feel of the tread on which he stood. It had much more give in it than he remembered from his youth.

From this position, the narrow beam of his Maglite enabled him to see the end of the staircase, but nothing beyond. The final step looked black and almost completely rotted away. The one above it didn’t appear to be in much better shape. If he went forward, he risked breaking those steps, which would make climbing out of the cellar much more difficult. If he didn’t go on, and someone was trapped down here, he might lose his job in disgrace. Worse, a real law enforcement officer, like a county sheriff’s deputy, might end up investigating the “screams” and finding a dead body he’d missed out of fear, in which case he could at the very least be accused of neglecting his duties as an officer of the peace.

Maglite secured in his left hand, Graham pawed at his right hip, immediately taking comfort in the shape of the county issue radio clipped to his belt. He ran his fingers along the top of the device until they closed around the volume knob, which he turned to the right. A thin click and a spurt of white noise erupted through the tomb-like silence of the old house. It vanished just as quickly, leaving in its wake the distinct hum of radio silence. Even so, it was reassuring that he had not only remembered to carry his direct connection to the Hollow County Sheriff’s Department inside with him but it also appeared to be in proper working order.

“Let’s hear it for technology. Thank God.”

From somewhere inside his head, he thought, the darkness replied: GOD AIN’T GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.

The next thing he felt was the bone-crunching shock of something blunt and heavy striking the back of his head. He heard what sounded like the shattering of thick glass. He was able to stay upright just long enough to feel what might have been a trickle of blood oozing from his scalp to the nape of his neck. A pair of unseen hands at his back thrust him into the darkness of the cellar, launching him down the full length of the rickety staircase. He fell forward, plummeting face first into the densely compacted earth beneath the house. The bridge of his nose exploded in a bright starburst of pain. His upper teeth crashed down on his lower lip, ripping open the pliable flesh. He felt an immediate swelling there. A thin stream of hot blood ran tear-like down his chin from the wound. Dimly, he heard the crack of splintered wood as his shins came down last, disintegrating the deteriorated lower steps in a fireworks show of wood rot and ancient dust.

His radio went flying when he hit. He heard it shatter in a hiss of static somewhere off to his right. The base of his Maglite struck the ground at the same time. It flew from his hand and bounced off the earth once, twice, and rolled some distance over the ground before coming to rest against the farthest cinder block wall of the cellar. The lamp behind the flashlight’s lens flickered madly, creating a nauseating strobe effect, a stop-motion version of Graham’s shadow on the wall beside him as he at first struggled to regain his feet and then gave up, collapsing flat to the earth.

The lamp finally steadied itself at a low burn, illuminating almost nothing about the cellar but the corner in which it had landed. It had come to rest too far from the limit of Graham’s reach. He stretched his left arm out for it anyway, hopeful that the darkness had merely created some sort of illusion of depth. His fingers clawed at the dirt for a second or two before they ultimately surrendered and lay still.

Graham Gordon lay broken and exhausted on the black earth at the bottom of the cellar stairs. In the fading last rays of his dying Maglite, he saw an eye: a disembodied, full white orb broken by jagged lightning-shaped lines of red capillaries. The iris in the center of the eyeball was a murky dark brown color, unshining and nearly black. Its pupil was but a pinprick in the beam from the flashlight.

It stared at him from just beyond the edge of the darkness, unblinking.

“Dad?”

The world went dark.


About the Author

 photo JMk-2I56_zpsxzgr4q95.jpg
ISAAC THORNE is a nice man who has, over the course of his life, developed a modest ability to spin a good yarn. Really. He promises. Just don’t push him down a flight of stairs.

You can find Isaac on Twitter or on Facebook

Isaac reviews films for TNHorror.com and TheHorrorcist.com. He is the host of Thorne’s Theater of Terror and Classic

Cuts on 24/7/365 horror-themed SCRM Radio at scrmradio.com.

More of Isaac’s work is available at isaacthorne.com and wherever books are sold.

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Vicious


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Sinners of Saint, Book One
Contemporary Romance

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Emilia

They say love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances, and it’s true.

The man who comes to me in my dreams also haunts me in my nightmares.

He is a brilliant lawyer.

A skilled criminal.

A beautiful liar.

A bully and a savior, a monster and a lover.

Ten years ago, he made me run away from the small town where we lived. Now, he came for me in New York, and he isn’t leaving until he takes me with him.


Vicious

She is a starving artist.

Pretty and evasive like cherry blossom.

Ten years ago, she barged into my life unannounced and turned everything upside down.

She paid the price.

Emilia LeBlanc is completely off-limits, my best friend’s ex-girlfriend. The woman who knows my darkest secret, and the daughter of the cheap Help we hired to take care of our estate.

That should deter me from chasing her, but it doesn’t.

So she hates me. Big fucking deal.

She better get used to me.



Vicious a complete standalone and a part of the Sinners of Saint series


Other Books in The Sinners Of Saint Contemporary Romance Series:



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Defy

Sinners of Saint, Book Two

ISBN: 978-0996135672



Ruckus

Sinners of Saint. Book Three

ISBN: 978-1546904465



Scandalous

Sinners of Saint, Book Four

ISBN: 978-1977569189



Bane

Sinners of Saint, Book 5

ISBN: 978-1717110985



About the Author


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LJ Shen is a USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author of over ten books. She lives in California with her husband, son, and cat.




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Playing Around

Title: Playing Around

Series: Rough Play, Book One

Author: Suzanne Clay

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: April 15, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84600

Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, contemporary, college, new adult, bisexual, friends to lovers, coming out, group sex, voyeurism, dirty talk, ethical nonmonogamy, family issues, biphobia, family drama, athlete

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Synopsis

Logan and Christian have been best friends since kindergarten. After spending their entire childhoods together, it makes sense they would go to the same college: the first step toward making their futures intertwine forever as blood brothers. But being away from home means discovering freedom Logan and Christian have never had before, and their journey of finding who they really want to be—and how they want to fit into each other’s lives—is a messy one. When a double date with their girlfriends turns into a new, erotic experience, both Logan and Christian are shaken by it. Suddenly, they can’t continue to see each other in a platonic light. Exploring their curiosity feels dangerous even when their girlfriends aren’t an issue, but ignoring their changing feelings is impossible.

Excerpt

Playing Around Suzanne Clay © 2019 All Rights Reserved Chapter One Logan For years, Logan resented how his parents had made him into a workhorse. Whether the boxes of supplies were for the funeral home or the drug store, they were heavy and unwieldy, and no matter how much he protested, his parents never tucked an extra dollar into his pocket for his trouble. There was no choice—just required labor without a word of gratitude. Moving his belongings into his college dorm was the first time he welcomed the labor. No parents telling him how to set things up. No last-minute delivery showing up right as he finished. No demands or expectations. Just welcome quiet. He set the last of the boxes on the floor with a grunt and rubbed his arms as he studied the small room. The tight quarters weren’t much—barely the size of his bedroom at home and stuffed with twice as much furniture to accommodate two men—but he wasn’t going to complain. Not even about the bunk bed. He’d heard from his RA, Aavai, they could be broken down into two beds, and he’d get Christian to help him do so later. “Lazy ass.” Speak of the devil. Logan glanced over his shoulder with a smirk as Christian came in with both hands full of bags, as many as seven hanging from each hand. “At least I know how to pack a box,” Logan said. “I can’t believe your parents let you bring all your shit in grocery bags.” “Not all of it,” Christian fired back. He set the bags down on top of their mountain of stuff in the corner. “Shut up. You’re still lazy. You’re standing there, not even starting to unpack…” “Why the hell am I gonna unpack when we need to work through logistics?” Logan gestured around the room. “Look at this. Two beds. Two desks. Two dressers. C’mon, we’ve gotta do some rearranging. This place looks like shit.” “I don’t give a damn how it looks.” Christian leaned forward and launched himself face-first on the bed. Unsurprisingly, his feet hung off the edge. “Perfect.” The word was muffled, but he already sounded half-asleep. Logan walked over. “Now, who’s the lazy ass?” He spanked him and darted away with a laugh when Christian turned on him like a wounded animal. “Get up, man! Want you to help me break this bed down.” Christian scoffed. “Weren’t you the one who just said we’ve got too much shit in here? And now you wanna move the bed? No way.” “If you like the bunks so much, you can sleep on top.” Christian shot him a frown. “Me? On the top bunk? Are you kidding me?” “You’re over six feet tall. How are you afraid of heights?” Christian shrugged and rolled onto his side, the wall protecting his ass from another slap. Logan rolled his eyes. “All right. Are you gonna make me spell it out for you?” “Yeah, go ahead, spell it out.” Of course. “If you think I’m gonna meet some girls who’re chill with crawling up a ladder to get some alone time, you’ve got another thing coming.” The grin Christian shot him spoke multitudes. “Your ugly ass couldn’t get a girl in the first place.” “I’ll be stealing your girl first.” “I’d like to see you try!” Logan laughed as he turned away. He took in the placement of the furniture and tried to visualize the best place for everything—once he moved things, he was unlikely to do it again. “Listen, just help me break apart the bed, and we can put it by the wall.” The mattress creaked when Christian sat up. That was definitely going to put a damper on trying to be quiet when they had company over. “Nah. I wanna get a couch and put it there.” Logan glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve got a couch in the living room. The whole point of a suite is to have another room to put our shit in instead of clogging up the bedroom.” Christian shrugged. “So? The couch can only fit three of us anyway. What if I wanna sit down somewhere and you and our suitemates are taking up all the cushions?” “Then you sit your ass on the floor.” Christian stood, his eyes sparking with a familiar competitiveness. A fire lit up in Logan’s chest as Christian faced him. Logan squared his shoulders, head tipped back to look him in the eye. Christian didn’t seem the least bit intimidated when he replied, “I’m getting a couch. And I’m putting it there.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m taking apart the bed and putting it there instead.” Christian took two dangerous steps forward. Already, his hands dangled by his side, open and ready for grabbing. Logan planted his feet and held his gaze. “Winner chooses?” Christian asked. Logan bit his bottom lip through his smile. “Bring it on, motherfucker.” Christian barreled toward him like a bull, grabbed hold of Logan, and they began their dance. Like any two guys who had known each other since kindergarten, they’d always done their fair share of horsing around. They’d thrown each other in the dirt on the playground when they were seven, much to the panic of their teachers, and Logan’s mom had blunted the end of a broom with the number of times she’d banged it against the ceiling when they wrestled too loudly. They knew each other’s moves by heart at this point. Though Christian had the stronger body from years of soccer, Logan played dirty. Christian’s hand wrapped around the back of Logan’s neck, and Logan batted his arm away before going for Christian’s waist. An early takedown might not be the best strategy, but the more unpredictable he could be, the best chance he had. Unpredictable didn’t work. Christian spun with his tackle, and all the breath knocked out of Logan when he landed on his back on the cold tile floor, Christian’s weight on top of him. “Couch,” Christian said with a certain smugness. Logan lay limp for only a second to catch his breath before he exploded with energy, lashing out legs and grabbing at Christian’s shirt to get some leverage. “No deal! I didn’t give yet!” “You’re gonna!” Christian was never out of breath this early. He sounded as calm as he’d been a few seconds ago. He caught Logan’s wrists, then pinned them to the floor over his head, his bright white teeth shining against his dark skin. “We’re getting a fucking couch.” “No way!” Logan squeezed his thighs around Christian’s hips and twisted, trying to roll him over, but Christian pressed a hand against his stomach and held him there, as if it was easy. The full weight of Christian—most of it bearing down on his wrists, the rest coming down on his hips—was too much to shake off. Maybe if I just tire him out… Logan didn’t stop thrashing around, his teeth gritting with the effort, and Christian laughed, the only sign of his exertion the slight tremor of his tone. Christian bore down on him, one of his muscular legs tangling up with Logan’s to pin it down too. Their bedroom door opened just then, and they both whipped their heads to see the mortified man backing away with wide eyes. “Oh, fuck, sorry!” And then the door slammed shut. Silence. Christian stared at him for a few seconds. They both started to snicker. Christian sat on his knees, letting Logan pull away and rub his back. “Oh my God, you don’t think he—” “I absolutely think he thought that,” Logan said through his laugh. “Holy shit. Should we go tell him?” “Nah.” Christian’s eyes gleamed as he stood and offered Logan a hand to tug him to his feet. “He’ll figure it out when he sees all my girlfriends I’m bringing back.” “Right.” Logan rolled his eyes, elbowing him as he walked past. “C’mon, we might as well go introduce ourselves or whatever.” Christian got to the door first—competitive to the end—and opened it for him. “And then we go couch shopping.” “Fuck you.” “I won,” Christian said with a smirk. “That wasn’t a win!” Logan led him into the living area of their dorm’s suite. “We got interrupted! That wasn’t even close to a win!” “We don’t have technicalities in the rulebook.” “I’ll put it in tonight.” Logan rolled his eyes. “If we’re getting a couch, you’re fucking paying my medical bills after I go to the hospital for my broken back.” “Weenie.” “Shut up.” After a moment of searching the empty living room and their kitchen nook, they peered in the second bedroom and found the man who’d walked in on them. “Hey.” Logan knocked gently on the half-open door. “Sorry, you, uh, caught us at a bad time.” The guy threw his hands up as if he’d been stopped by police. “I’m so sorry—” “Dude, you don’t have anything to be sorry about.” Christian leaned against the doorframe as if his head wasn’t almost brushing the top. “Just taking care of some unfinished business.” “Shut up,” Logan threw over his shoulder and held out a hand. “I’m Logan. This is Christian. Guess we’re gonna be your suitemates?” “Yeah, guess so!” The guy smiled as he shook Logan’s hand, though his eyes still flitted between them as if he were watching a tennis match. “My name’s Daiki. It’s nice to meet you both.” “Daiki?” Christian asked. “Daiki.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything more. “Have you guys met my roommate yet?” “Nah. We just got here, but Aavai said we were the first ones in.” Logan shrugged. “We left last night, got a hotel room, got some breakfast this morning…guess we were ready to get here.” Ready was an understatement. After twelve years of being in the same tiny town and barely able to remember where he’d first lived, the change of scenery was what Logan had been desperate for. It didn’t matter that Fulton State University was in the same state—tuition was cheaper for his parents, and the view outside Daiki’s window showed him something different. A city, for example, that wasn’t too far away, barely visible over the roofs of their college buildings. He didn’t know what was down there besides a Waffle House, a hotel, and a gas station that carried an incredible array of candy for late-night snacking, but he looked forward to learning the lay of the land. “I guess he’ll be here later.” Daiki rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you guys think I can go ahead and claim a bunk and start unpacking, or…” “Tell your roommate to go fuck himself if he doesn’t like the bunk you picked.” Christian was succinct as always. Logan laughed and shoved Christian out of the doorway. “Don’t pay him any attention. He doesn’t think much. Sports scholarship, you see.” “At least I got a full ride.” Christian lifted his chin and smirked. “Don’t see my parents having to rob a bank just to pay for the damn place.” “Mm-hmm. Yep, and you’re gonna be a big soccer star, and we’re all gonna say we knew you when. Uh-huh.” Logan rolled his eyes. “I, uh, I guess you guys know each other…pretty well?” Daiki asked. “Have you been…together long?” “I’ve known this idiot since he was trying to eat crayons, if that’s what you mean,” Logan drawled. “But that’s about it.” Daiki’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Really? You’re not dating? But I thought—” “We’re straight. Sorry to disappoint.” Christian turned on his heel and headed into the living room. “Logan, I’m hungry! Buy me a burger!” “Buy your own burger!” Logan called and glanced at Daiki. The expression on Daiki’s face made Logan hesitate. “Hey. Sorry if you’re…” How do I phrase this? He’d heard it put a number of ways back home, and all of them had made his mom’s lips thin. He’d learned what the wrong words were only after she washed his mouth out with soap. “…he doesn’t mean anything bad. Promise.” Daiki stared at him hard. “I hope he doesn’t, or he’s going to have an awful time at this school.” Logan chuckled. They’d already walked past several couples holding hands around the busy campus as they found their way to the parking lot—most of them a guy and a girl, but a couple of girls and a couple of guys together too. The open display of affection would take some getting used to. “It’s fine. Seriously, no problem. It’s just not something we saw very often at home.” Daiki leaned against his desk and glanced down at his feet, and Logan took the opportunity to size him up. The gay couples weren’t the only thing he’d have to get used to. Though Daiki didn’t appear mixed like Logan was, he still wasn’t white. As he’d carried his boxes in, Logan had seen more people of color than in his entire life just in the lobby. Their floor RA was Indian and Sikh. The girl checking them in downstairs was white, but she was being helped out by someone with dark brown skin. FSU was a different world, one appearing as though the campus had come out of some movie that was really making a point out of being diverse. As though it had been intentionally done. As though some guy was gonna point the diversity out in his review as being unrealistic. But here he was, standing in a room with someone who wasn’t white and who wasn’t like his best friend Christian either. Logan spent the past twelve years thinking the white, heterosexual climate of Greenbarrow was normal. But the other students didn’t seem as surprised by their surroundings as Logan—and he wasn’t sure what he thought of that yet. Going home after this was going to feel fucking weird. “I guess you guys are both from down here, then,” Daiki finally said. “Around Georgia? Yeah.” Logan shrugged. “Greenbarrow’s a couple hours south of here. Why, is my accent that bad?” Daiki chuckled. “It’s pretty thick, but that’s not bad, I mean—” “I got you.” Logan grinned. “You always apologize this much? What, are you Canadian?” “No! No, I just…” He trailed off. “I guess I don’t want my roommates to hate me immediately. Especially if you two are some united front that could make my life pretty terrible.” Daiki wasn’t a tiny guy, but he carried himself with the air of someone who was ready to be pushed around right now. Logan wasn’t a bully, and with the school’s star jock as his best friend, he’d been pretty immune to targeted violence by his classmates. But he’d never exactly stepped in and stopped anyone from being an asshole either. This is a sign. I’ve got some penance to do here. Logan was pretty sure his social calendar was going to be filled with nothing but Christian for the next four years, but he could try to do better. “I’ll only make your life terrible if you eat whatever food I put in the fridge,” Logan said dryly, and Daiki laughed. “I’d better go catch up with Christian, or I’m not gonna get any lunch, but it was nice meeting you. Maybe we can hang out before classes start.” Daiki stood tall, as though he’d been waiting his entire life for this moment. “Yeah! I-I mean, that’d probably be cool or whatever.” “Cool.” Logan backed out of the room, putting his hands in his pockets. “And, uh, hey, listen, if your roommate’s an asshole, let me know. I’ll make sure he doesn’t mess with you.” Daiki gaped at him. “Y-yeah, I’ll do that. I’m sure things’ll be fine, but…” Penance. Logan shrugged. “Just saying. I’ll see you later.” When he popped into his bedroom, Christian was shoving clothes haphazardly in the drawers of one of the chests. “You’re an idiot,” Logan said, huffing. “I wanted to move stuff around before we started unpacking.” “And I wanted to get these bags out of our fucking way.” Christian scowled at him. “What? Your noodly-ass arms can’t move furniture when it’s full of boxers?” “Fuck you.” Logan grabbed Christian’s sleeve and started walking backward, dragging him along. “Let’s go get burgers. I’ll pay if you drive my car.” “Finally.”

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Meet the Author

Suzanne is an asexual woman with a great love for writing erotica and enjoys spending her time confusing people with that fact. She believes there is a need for heightened diversity in erotic fiction and strives to write enough stories so that everyone can see themselves mirrored in a protagonist. She lives with her husband and cat, and, when not writing, Suzanne enjoys reading, playing video games poorly, and refusing to interact outdoors with other human beings.

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I Knew Him

Title: I Knew Him

Author: Abigail de Niverville

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: April 15, 2019

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 69600

Genre: Contemporary YA, LGBT, contemporary, Canada, YA, high school, theater, angst, bisexual, coming-of-age, coming out, interracial, slow burn, alcohol use, family drama

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Synopsis

In his senior year of high school, Julian has one goal: be invisible. All he wants is to study hard, play basketball, and pretend he’s straight for one more year. Then, he can run away to university and finally tell the world he’s bisexual. And by “the world,” he means everyone but his mom and best friend. That’s two conversations he never wants to have. When he’s talked into auditioning for the school’s production of Hamlet, Julian fears that veering off course will lead to assumptions he’s not ready to face. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a connection to this play. His absent father haunts him like a ghost, his ex is being difficult, and he’s overthinking everything. It’s driving him crazy. The decision to audition leads Julian on an entirely different path. He’s cast as Hamlet, and the boy playing Horatio is unlike anyone Julian has met before. Mysterious and flirtatious, Sky draws Julian in, even though he fears his feelings at the same time. As the two grow closer, Julian begins to let out the secrets he’s never told—the ones that have paralyzed him for years. But what will he do if Sky feels the same way?

Excerpt

I Knew Him Abigail de Niverville © 2019 All Rights Reserved Chapter One 7:35 PM: We need to talk. 8:00 PM: I’m sorry. 9:17 PM: I know you’re awake. 9:20 PM: Please answer my calls. 10:00 PM: At least check your voicemail. 10:47 PM: Julian? “Shut up Lucy,” I muttered, fingering the phone in my hands. I placed it on top of my chest and watched it rise and fall as I breathed. The glow-in-the-dark stars on Will’s bedroom ceiling had faded through the years, but they were still visible. I repeated the constellations in my head as I found them: Orion, Aquarius, Cassiopeia. Will was already sound asleep in his bed, but I’d never been more awake. Everything I’d said replayed in my mind, every mistake I’d ever made flashing like a movie. My phone vibrated again, and I jolted upright, the mattress groaning underneath. The message flashed on my screen as I glanced down at my hand. I still love you. “Shit.” I didn’t want Lucy to want me anymore. I wanted her to leave me alone, let me self-destruct in peace. She didn’t need my bullshit anymore. I was trying to spare her. Before my phone went off again, I rolled off the mattress onto the floor and crept out of the room. Will barely stirred through all the commotion. I grabbed his set of keys from the desk and slipped out of his room. Outside, the air was cool and damp. We’d started the second week of school and everything was still kind of green, but the smell of partially decaying leaves surrounded me. I sighed heavily, the breeze stinging my face. I probably should’ve put on a sweater before I stepped out, but I didn’t want to turn back now. I ran out into the street and jogged a couple blocks, unsure of my plan, besides getting the fuck away from everything and everyone. Just being silent with the night and forgetting I was a bad boyfriend and an even worse friend. It was kind of cloudy, but some of the stars shone through. I craned my neck and walked in a tight circle, spotting the North Star and part of Orion’s Belt. Too cloudy for much else. The sound of tires on the patched pavement snapped my attention to ground level. I stepped out of the way of an SUV and watched it inch down the road. The driver had the window rolled down, and he poked his head out as he passed me. His blond hair was slicked back, and his lips were full. He reminded me of a model. He squinted his eyes at me, like he was trying to place where he’d seen me before. I just knew I’d never seen him before. Or had I? “Salut,” he said, his accent thick. He must’ve been a student at one of the French schools. What was he doing in Riverview, somewhere totally anglophone? Anyone who went to the French schools and lived in Riverview was an anglophone who was good at French. “Hi,” I said warily. “I remember you,” he said, mouth quirking into a smile. “Last summer. Austin’s party.” “You remember that?” I tried to place him in my memory, but I’d been drunk for a good part of last summer. Lucy had broken up with me, and I was devastated. That time, I’d really wanted things to work out. “How could I forget you?” he drawled, smiling again. It would’ve been sweet if I wasn’t so on edge. And also incredibly sober. Drunk me always wanted everything sober me never took. Sober me was never what he remembered. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.” He licked his lips thoughtfully, parted them slightly. “Let me help you remember.” I shook my head, though part of me kind of wanted to remember. He had lips that were perfect for kissing. And the pieces were falling together in my head. An empty basement room, the air thick from smoke and humid heat. And a blond boy with messy hair with his hands on my waist. He kissed me. “I have a girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes. “And I’m straight.” He laughed softly and shook his head. When he regained his composure, he glanced down at me again. “Take care, you mess of a boy.” He rolled away from me, and his car crept down the street and turned the corner. I waited until the sounds of his engine died away into the night before I dared move. Letting out a sigh of relief, I pushed the hair back from my forehead. My whole body shook. I never expected the worlds of drunk and sober me to meet. Not this way. Not this year. We only had two more semesters of school. This wasn’t the time to change everything. It was all about surviving and moving on. I needed to be what people thought I was. People here would never understand. Better to go away and let them find out much later. That was the way it had to be. I breathed deeply again, trying to regain my composure. It had only been a moment, and he wasn’t a boy who went to my school. He was just a boy. Less faceless than before, but still anonymous. And people like him didn’t belong to someone like me. Not yet. I wasn’t ready for the world to see me. My phone vibrated again. This time, it wasn’t Lucy texting. Will’s name flashed on the screen. Where are you?? Had to get some air. I wrote. Can’t sleep. Get over here. We got school. I let out a grim laugh. School was the last thing on my mind right then. Lucy and boys danced in my head. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t know how. The two were linked somehow. Lucy and my failure to love her—and the boys I kissed every time we ended things. She deserved better than me. She deserved someone who wasn’t afraid, who told her about the storm overtaking him. Who wouldn’t let her assume he was on drugs or cheating because he was too afraid to admit he wasn’t… Straight. I hated that word. I hated the alternatives. Hell, maybe I hated everything. I craned my neck to look to the sky again and stared at the clouds passing over the horizon. When the wind picked up again, the frozen cold on my cheek made me aware I’d been crying. “Shit,” I muttered, wiping at my cheek. I had to keep myself together. This place had closed me in. I needed to survive one more year, and then I’d escape forever. “Jules!” I wiped at my cheeks again as Will’s yells grew closer. He was wearing his pyjamas and jean jacket, carrying my hoodie. His flip-flops slapped on the pavement, echoing in the quiet street. “Fuck, Jules!” he panted when he reached me. “What are you doing?” I shrugged. “Thinking.” He furrowed his brow. In the orange lamplight, his red hair was almost brown, and the freckles on his face were dark pinpricks. “About Lucy?” I nodded and didn’t elaborate. “You realize you don’t have to break up with her?” he suggested with a small laugh. I pulled the hoodie over my head. “No, I should. We keep fighting.” “My parents fight all the time,” he offered. “And they’re fine.” “I don’t know,” I sighed. “I just think she’s miserable with me. I need to…let her go.” “She doesn’t want to.” “Yeah, well, maybe I do,” I shot at him. Will raised his hands and took a step away. “Well, whatever. Whatever will make you happy.” Happiness didn’t seem to be an option. He squinted, as if he were trying to break me apart and analyze me, the wheels turning in his head as he tried to find the right question. “But you’re okay?” “I’m fine.” He’d meant to ask me something else, but I wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted to hear. “Okay. Let’s go.” I followed Will to his house with heavy steps. What had only been hours seemed like a lifetime since I’d told Lucy we needed to break up. Since she’d cried and screamed about how much she loved me. Since I’d been too upset to go home to an empty apartment while my mom worked the night shift. I slumped down on the mattress Will had laid out on the floor next to his bed. Remembering I held the spare keys in one hand, I threw them on the desk. “I’m going early,” Will said once we’d settled under our covers. “To school? Why?” “Gotta practice for this group project. You wanna drive me?” “No,” I scoffed, pulling the blanket to my chin. “Nice try.” He laughed softly and rolled over so his back faced me. “Try to sleep, Jules.” And then, he was out. But sleep wasn’t easy for me. I kept thinking about Lucy and boys. And how Will was too good a friend to me. He’d let me come and go whenever I needed to. He didn’t question it anymore. Sometimes, he tried to ask the hard questions, but he didn’t push when I was in a bad way. I wished I could tell him everything. But I couldn’t. He’d assume what he wanted to assume. He wouldn’t understand. No one could.

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Meet the Author

Abigail de Niverville is an author and composer based in Toronto, Canada. Born on the East Coast of Canada, Abigail draws inspiration from her experiences growing up there. When she’s not writing frantically, she also composes music and holds an M.Mus from the University of Toronto.

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MaddJax Series (Books 1-2) by Deborah Ann

Titles: MaddJax Series Books 1 & 2
Author: Deborah Ann
Genre: Contemporary Romance
(Second Chance Stepbrother/co-CEO Romance)
He broke her heart when he left her seven years ago. Now he’s back to reclaim what’s his…
Maddison Cole ~
It’s been seven years since Jaxon Jaimison left town, stole my heart, my friendship and my virginity, and took it with him. Along with our secrets.
Now he’s just waltzed back into my life, swaggering toward me with his cocky attitude.
And damn if he doesn’t look good. Smoldering eyes, sexy smile, and rock hard body made for climbing.
Made for sin.
He’s the one man that sets my insides on fire just by being in the room; just by living and breathing.
The one man I can’t have.
The boy who owns all my firsts.
Now here he is, ambushing me with a grand entrance into our class reunion and introducing himself to everyone as my loving boyfriend, after not so much as a word all these years.
He says I’m his…
Says I always have been…
I’m not so sure about that. Because if that were true, he wouldn’t have left me, just days after taking my virginity…
~
Jaxon Jaimison ~
I knew Maddison Cole was mine the moment I met her. Didn’t matter that we were only fifteen. When you know, you know.
But then my father turned around and made her my stepsister.
I understand Maddison’s worries, but I’ll never leave her again. And unlike my stepsister, I’m not hung up on the forbidden, taboo nature of a relationship between us, nor do I care what others think. We’re older now, more established, both successful. I’m not taking no for an answer. After all, I packed up my broken heart seven years ago and left town for a reason, determined on making something of myself, to be the man Maddison deserves.
Maddison thinks it’s just one night, she’ll give in and then I’ll disappear again, but seducing her to my hotel suite reunion night is just the start.
I’m staying, moving back into the bedroom beside hers, and the office beside hers, as co-CEO of the family business, right alongside Maddison, the current CEO…
Jaxon nearly destroyed me last time. I can’t afford for history to repeat itself. Not with the future of our family and the company at risk. I’ll guard my heart and our secrets at all costs…
Can first love get a second chance?
Maddison ~ Jaxon Jaimison wasn’t supposed to be the one. Nope. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my stepbrother. I made that mistake once. I’d be stupid to make it again. But then he came back to fix what was lost and broke. All smoldering eyes, sexy smile, and rock hard body. I tried to fight it. Really, I did. But I never had a chance. Jaxon’s mere presence sets my insides on fire, his scent and his taste put my mind in a haze. The temptation’s too strong, too close. My body craves his touch, longs to be against his. Just as I begin to feel hope for our future, let my walls down and accept what is—that Jaxon owns my heart, my body, and my soul—it all starts to unravel, when everything I hold dear is rocked by tragedy and threatened to be lost. All things come to an end, and this might be ours… ~ Jaxon ~ The years apart have done nothing to diminish the passion between us, the ever-present pull and need. But wooing my stepsister into crossing the line into the forbidden and giving us a second chance, earning back her trust and her heart after I left and shattered them both, has been a bigger challenge than I expected. Now that I finally have her in my arms, my bed, I’m never letting her go. Of course, there’s bound to be a few bumps on the path to Happily Ever After. Secrets rarely stay hushed. But I never saw what was coming. Never saw our pasts coming back to tear us apart. Never saw Maddison pushing me away. And never saw having to literally fight for our future together. Loosing Maddison isn’t an option, and I’ll fight to hold onto her with everything I am. Even, if it kills me…
After years of reading with her children and passing on a love for books, Deborah was inspired to write ‘The Destiny Series’. What started out in the beginning, as a celebration of a loving, young, innocent friendship and the affecting separation after a move, spun into a mythical journey of the loving binds of friendship, deep family ties, and an intoxicating fairy tale romance, with the power of love that knows no bounds.
‘Memory Betrayal’& ‘The Deal Series’ followed, with a leap from young adult romance to adult contemporary romance. Deborah writes stories about strong, sassy, smart, confident women and loveable, good-looking, sexy alpha men, in a range of heat levels, from sweet to steamy, who always find their happily ever after.
Deborah Ann resides in Northern California with her husband and their college-age daughter and son. And while it can be a balancing act at times, with how busy family life can get, Deborah sneaks in as much time as she can to slip into the lives of her characters, and the magical world in which they live…
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These books are the first of the JBLU line-up. Thrills, chills, fights, battles, races, steamy scenes, & the list continues. Get yours now & get prepared for genres to be linked like never before & the list will develop over time.

Twisted Saga Origins
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Twisted Saga Aftermath
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Twisted Saga ReGenesis
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45 Days (The Anti-Romance)
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The Curse

THECURSEBLOGTOURAPRIL 1554115445Title: The Curse Genre: Supernatural Suspense Page count: 149 Author: Kristin Ping Publisher: Fire Quill Publishers Release Date: September 25 2018 Description: Dreamcatchers can’t ward off nightmares if your nightmare is your reality? Moving to a small town is the last thing Melanie wanted, but her entire family, even her identical twin, Emily, assures her it’s the best thing for her family. But Melanie knows it’s just another form of punishment, because that’s all her family does to her—punishes her. Emily just wants her sister back, wants to recover their twin bond after she broke her sister’s trust. But something evil is waiting in their new house… When Melanie falls into the clutches of an ancient darkness, Emily is the only one who can save her. Will their bond be strong enough to break the curse? Or will Emily lose her sister forever?

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About Kristin Ping:

t2jtp6ra-400x400-400x400 Kristin is a USA Today Bestselling author and lives with her family in South Africa, where she writes full time. Her debut novel, Immortal: A Varcolac Novel, followed by Hinder: A Benders Novel, are the first two novels in a sweeping saga called Guardian of Monsters. Nine intricately imagined novels are in the works, following witches, vampires, werewolves, djinns, Benders, and shifters.

For More Information www.kristinpingbooks.com www.facebook.com/kristingping www.twitter.com/authorkristinP www.instagram.com/pingkristin www.bookbub.com/authors/kristin-ping www.amazon.com/Kristin-Ping

The Curse will be translated in Italian in 2021 through Hope Edizioni and for audio lovers, the wait is not long anymore. The Curse is in production and Carly Lepard will narrating as Emily and her twin Mel.

Excerpt

EMILY I liked the new house. The quaint town, too. I didn’t share Mel’s aversion to small towns; in fact, I’d always had a fantasy of living somewhere everyone knew each other. A part of me was certain that this move would be the best thing that could happen to Mel, though she was still sulking. She would be okay. She had to be okay, so we could move on and fix this rift between us. Mel still hadn’t forgiven me for telling Keith about the party, which had been two freaking years ago! But that was my sister; she could hold a grudge like no one else could. Of course, I hadn’t planned on breaking her confidence. But then I’d heard there’d be alcohol and drugs and who knew what else. Really, I was just worried about her safety. And it wasn’t like I could have lied straight to Keith’s face. I was never a good liar at the best of times, and the worrying hadn’t helped. So when Keith had realized Mel wasn’t home and questioned me, everything had just rushed out of me. I hadn’t wanted to disappoint Keith or Mom, because I wanted a father again. I was scared that if I disappointed Keith, he would leave, and I didn’t want Mom to be unhappy again. If Mel had just listened to Mom in the first place, I wouldn’t have been put in that position. Now, I regretted the choice I made. If I knew we would never be the same after that, I would’ve kept my stupid mouth shut and never said a thing. She was so mad at me. I desperately wished I hadn’t hurt her like that. In all honesty, I hadn’t thought Keith would drag her ass out of that party. That must have been so humiliating. According to Mom, he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t care. But those words didn’t stop Mel from rebelling, and I could sense she felt lost and betrayed. I heard Mel’s door open and shook my depressing thoughts from my head as our eyes met. I smiled at her, but she looked away and wandered down the hall. I got up and followed her. “Where are you going?” I called. “Just to look around,” she snapped. She was always short when she spoke to me now. I missed the way we used to be. Now we were broken. “Mind if I join you?” “Do what you want, Em. It’s a free country.” She was silent as we opened the doors to each room, looked inside, and closed them again. “Keith said it used to be—” “I don’t give a shit about what Keith said,” she interrupted, stalking out. I sighed and shut the door before traipsing after her. She stopped when she saw a trapdoor in the ceiling. “Please don’t,” I begged. “Why, Emmie, are you scared?” she teased. She pulled on the latch, and the stairs to the attic came down. She glanced over her shoulder at me as she started to climb up. “Stay, come up. I don’t really care.” Her words were like a knife twisting in my heart. She was never going to forgive me. It shouldn’t be this way. I gulped as I looked at the stairs. I couldn’t stay down here. What if Mel got hurt? Tentatively, I followed her upstairs. A light came on as I reached the top. It wasn’t as big as I’d thought it would be, but the attic was spine-chilling. I hated attics. They always gave me chills. Bad things always happened in attics and basements. Dust tickled my nose and I sneezed. I glanced around. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, from the old mirror in the corner to the mannequin next to it. The window was grimy. Spiderwebs covered the corners. Clouds of dust billowed into the air with every step Mel took. Stacks of boxes and old toys crowded the floor. Mel walked over to one of the boxes and picked up a stack of papers, leafing through the pages. My skin crawled and goosebumps flushed over my entire body. Something was wrong with this room. Mel opened one of the boxes. “Can we please go?” “Go if you want. It’s not like I asked you to come with me. I don’t want you here anyway,” she said as she peered into the box. “You can’t ignore me forever, Mel. I’m your sister!” “Wanna bet?” she scoffed. I was so tired of her miserable attitude, I was tempted to leave. But I didn’t. She moved another box and gasped. “Oh wow.” I was curious to see what she found. As I neared her, I saw the outline of something round and big. She held it up in the dim light. My chest tightened when I realized it was an old dreamcatcher. Bigger than any I had ever seen. For some reason I didn’t share my sister’s admiration. It felt like I was suffocating. “Mel, please leave that thing alone.” “It’s just a dreamcatcher, Em. These things are made to keep bad dreams away.” “Something just doesn’t feel right about that thing.” “Stop being so superstitious,” she said without breaking her gaze from it. She seemed awed. “Please,” I begged. My sister turned away from the dreamcatcher and glared at me over her shoulder. “Look at my arms.” I thrust my arms into her face, showing her the goosebumps peppering my skin and the hair standing on end. “I can’t breathe. Put it down. Please.” “Sheesh. Fine, drama queen.” She put the dreamcatcher down and walked back to the stairs. I couldn’t stop staring at the damn thing, and the deafening silence of the room started to choke me. What was it about that stupid dreamcatcher? Suddenly, the trapdoor swung shut with a loud bang. The light flickered and faded. I was trapped in the dark. I ran to the exit. “Mel, open up! Please,” I begged. She laughed as her footsteps receded. “Mel,” I yelled. The air in the attic became thicker and thicker. Something in the darkness caught my eye and I spun in its direction, but I couldn’t see anything. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, and no light filtered in from the grimy window. The Curse Givaway

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