Bad Babygirl: The Hacker Prequel
Daddy’s going to own me.
I knew hacking would get me into trouble one day, but not like this.
Kidnapped and held captive in a military compound, I’m forced to endure a humiliating exam, then I’m held down and branded with the number thirteen.
Just when I think my captors have pushed me to the end of my limits, I discover there’s worse to come.
A man forcing me to call him Daddy.
He’s going to make me submit to him.
The more I fight, the more he likes it.
Novella previously published in the USA Today Bestselling Anthology Daddy’s Demands as “Daughter #13”.
Bad Babygirl: The Con-Artist Book One
If I have to hurt her to get what I want… I will.
No is not an option.
My little con artist is about to learn I run my criminal enterprise with an iron fist.
She is no exception.
She will do as Daddy tells her or there will be pain.
Little does she know how much I will enjoy inflicting it.
Bad Babygirl: The Thief Book Two
I will stop at nothing to get the information I need.
No matter how much she fights me… I will win in the end.
My little thief cannot steal away, I don’t care how hard she tries.
Daddy’s in charge now.
She either follows my rules, or there will be consequences… painful ones.
Bad Babygirl: The Expert Book Three
I control everything about her life… she just doesn’t know it.
Despite her dangerous profession she has an air of naïve innocence.
It makes her weak, vulnerable… easy prey for a man like me.
Until now, I’ve been content to stay in the shadows, but someone has made a deadly mistake, they have threatened what’s mine.
My little one is about to understand that Daddy is done watching.
It’s time I claim my babygirl.
This is a dark romance daddy dom series. There are no sweet hugs and kisses from these domineering daddies. You’ve been warned. Note: This is part of a continuing series and not a stand-alone.
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Ryder & Quinn “The Expert”
Once they were gone, Ryder turned on me.
I kept my head lowered, refusing to meet his hard gaze. Undaunted, Ryder stepped closer.
I inhaled but could only smell dust. I knew from previous encounters that Ryder never wore cologne or any kind of scent which might give his presence away. I stared at his heavy black boots. They laced high up on his calves. Today he wore khaki cargo pants and a white t-shirt which did nothing to obscure his heavily muscled chest and arms.
After a moment’s pause, Ryder pulled on both of my ponytails like you would a petulant child.
I looked up.
He shook his head, “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into, kitten?”
He had never called me by my name let alone an endearment. I closed my eyes. The weight of the events of this morning were starting to bear down on me. It was all becoming too much.
Ryder pulled on my ponytails again. The red curls straightening then springing back into form.
“Answer me,” he said in a dark tone which allowed no argument.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I honestly don’t know. I just know it isn’t safe for me in Chicago right now.”
Ryder looked down at my upturned face. Slowly, he twirled one thick curl around his forefinger.
Sure, my earlier plans hadn’t included him. They couldn’t have. Not only did I have no way to contact him, I never would have presumed to ask him for help. Inhaling a breath, I held it as I realized how desperately I wanted him to stay.
Selfishly, I wanted to lean on his strength.
I was scared and didn’t want to face whatever this was alone.
Ryder untwined the curl from his fingers. Running his knuckles over my cheek, he said, “You do exactly as I say when I say it, no questions asked.”
This wasn’t a negotiation.
He placed a hand around my waist and snatched me close. My head fit under the crook of his arm.
It was strange to feel both safe and in danger at the same time.
Ryder leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“Now you really are in trouble, kitten.”
I knew his threat had nothing to do with the men after me.
Something told me I had just jumped out of the frying pan, straight into hellfire.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author in
Dark Romance & Horror.
There is something delicious in our desire for the corrupt, our ravenous appetite for the brutal, the profane, the unspeakable. The taboo. I write the type of books that give you a frisson of unease; that will have you questioning your own resolve as I take you on a dark ride of twists, kinks and perversions of both the flesh and mind.
Enjoy the blush and tremble as you read each decadent word.