Showing results by narrator "Dahlia Dahlia" in All Categories

I’m a mountain man who’s always lived alone. When I see a tragic accident on the highway, I have a chance to change things. But not everyone agrees that my cabin should be their home. It’s time to man up and be what they need. Because they are more than my heart. They are my soul. And they belong on this mountain.

Being in control of her life is Enchantress Regine Marchand's mantra, and the role of Domme is the perfect way to do so. An accomplished equestrian, championship is in sight—no one will get in her way, not even an overbearing Dom who vows to take control.

The Southern Kingdom did not bend rules or deviate from tradition. For Syrenn, this meant that she would have to continue vying for the Princes hand in marriage - even though she often found her eye wandering toward his darker, elder brother. Until the Southern Prince chooses his bride, however, she is stuck in a realm that is not her own, participating in a marriage contest against her will. When her fellow contenders start dying gruesome deaths, she must uncover who is behind the murders. Even if it costs her own freedom.

Benedict Turner has made a name for himself dismantling smaller publishing houses and destroying authors’ careers in the process. When the flirtatious Brit agrees to a quick interview for my book research, the last thing I expect is the charming, sexy billionaire to sweep me off my feet. Despite being a walking red flag who doesn’t like pineapple on pizza, considers a nightly run a good time, and insisting soccer is football, he isn’t the morally gray man I thought he would be.

Rosey the white-tailed deer has so many friends in the forest, and she always takes time to tell them they are wonderfully made, and that their time will come to do the good work of God. She gathers her friends around her at the pond and introduces them to each other, as she knows her forest friends are in need of a friend. It’s at the pond Rosey meets Briar, a messenger from God Himself.

Es ist kein Märchen. Aber es könnte eines werden. Jedenfalls, sofern der Präsident des MC Sons of Ragnarök das Sagen hat. Wie das Licht einer Straßenlaterne einen Nachtfalter, so zieht mich die zarte Gestalt auf dem dunklen, menschenleeren Supermarktparkplatz an. Doch im Gegensatz zur Motte weiß ich ganz genau, dass es mein Verderben sein wird, wenn ich diesem Bedürfnis nachgebe. Kann mich das zurückhalten? Gottverdammt! Natürlich nicht. Ohne Rücklagen ein Kosmetikstudio eröffnen? Mit Mitte zwanzig sollte das prinzipiell kein Problem darstellen.