Showing results by narrator "Declan Winters" in All Categories

For almost a century, we've believed the prophecy to be a hoax. The promise of Fated Mates being the cure to this ruined world was a beautiful story, a romantic lie told to keep us in line. Nothing more than an idyllic promise to make us work together. Only we never did, and the world only suffered more. Joining the military has turned my life into a monotonous cycle of schedule, routine, and order. Day after day, I wake at the same time, wear the same uniform, and stare at the same power-hungry faces I've been commanded by for decades.

1881 - Special Agent Gillian Hamilton, magic caster for the Federal Bureau of Magic and Steam, has recovered from injuries obtained while in Shallow Grave, Arizona. Now back in New York City, Gillian makes an arrest on New Year’s Eve that leads to information on a gangster, known only as Tick Tock, who’s perfected utilizing elemental magic ammunition. This report complicates Gillian’s holiday plans, specifically those with infamous outlaw, Gunner the Deadly, who promised they’d ring in 1882 together.

Hot for teacher? No. Hot for teacher's widower? Maybe a little more than I should be.

I'm a gay preacher with more tattoos than sense and more notches on my bedpost than years in the ministry. You've heard of those romances where the priest is seduced by the worldly outsider? Yeah, this isn't that. I'm also not totally settled on the existence of God. Call me a skeptic, but when you work with abandoned and abused teenagers, you tend to have a few questions for anyone calling themselves divine.

I like horses better than most people. After years of supporting our local equine rescue, it’s safe to say that I have a certified hate-on for the rodeo. So why is Luke McCall, injured rodeo diva, in my training paddock? I feel bad that he was outed by the media, and I get the need to regroup out of the spotlight.

Logan Cobalt rarely dates, but finds himself asking out the elusive waiter at Bailey's Cafe. Sure, he has spent numerous lunch hours chatting up the beautiful man over sandwiches, but nothing has come close to a real date. When Logan finds out Macy's hiding a secret, he will move heaven and earth to keep the man safe. After all, he runs a successful security and bodyguard business, so it wouldn't be hard to issue a protection detail. Would it?

I used to believe in fairy tales, but I've kissed far too many frogs that never turn into Prince Charming. The glass slipper never fits. I'm always the ugly step-sibling; never the princess. They're the same crushing blows every time. Why is it so difficult to accept that I like myself the way I am? With my pretty dresses, pastel tattoos, and sparkly nail polish, I like to feel beautiful. All I want is my happily ever after. To be cherished and adored and loved for who I am. I desperately want to find my forever person. Why am I always left with a broken heart instead?

I'm a mob boss. And I'm in love with a virgin. I run a high-end escort service, and Ford is a nervous, perfectly bow-tied, sexily bespectacled money nerd. It doesn't make any sense, this attraction between us.

Look, no one's ever accused me of being sane, y'know? So when I say that I am crazy over this RICO agent, know that I mean business. Sure, I'm responsible for getting him fired from the job he's wanted his whole life, but his grandfather just died and left him 13.1 billion dollars. Dude deserves a break is all I'm saying. And yeah, I'm a violent mobster with a savior complex, but that shouldn't get in the way of our epic love story.

George Hunt can think of nothing he’d like more than to skip the high-society fundraiser where he has to guard a precocious sixteen-year-old girl and her judgmental therapist, but there’s no way out of it. If anything bad were to happen and he wasn’t there to stop it, he’d never forgive himself. So even though she’s grilling him about his dating life and the good doctor is psychoanalyzing him, he’s going to soldier on, because protecting his charges is what a knight does.

Separated by lies, bound by desire . . . Falling in love was not something Bishop had ever planned on. Until a sexy billionaire named Syn appeared on his radar. Syn who is off limits. Syn who just announced his engagement . . . Now the lies and treachery are piling up . . . And Bishop will need...

There’s not much I miss about prison, save for the buttoned-up therapist who doled out subtle commands and generous praise in equal measure. We never spoke of the crackling tension between us, but every time he straightened my posture or called me a good boy, we knew what was going on.

Former US Army soldier Owen Gray thought he had life all mapped out with a man of his dreams, but Jordan Thomas had other ideas. After a botched attempt at a pass in their friend's swimming pool, Jordan put the brakes on anything remotely romantic. Owen was out of patience. Now, he was going after Jordan with everything he had to offer. He knows some about Jordan's past, maybe not all the details, but he knows enough. And it doesn't matter . . . what he wants is for Jordan to give them a shot. All set to have a show down, Owen gets some distressing news that throws his life into a tailspin.

Nothing can prepare you for the phone call from your best friend telling you his dad was murdered. But here I am, getting on a plane to fly halfway across the country to hold his hand and hope to hell that I'm not walking into a complete disaster. Who am I kidding? The police think Gregory Crane killed himself, but Elliot is sure they're wrong. And the dead man can't tell us what happened, so I'm going to have to use good old-fashioned detective work to figure this one out. Except I'm not a cop anymore and all my contacts are half a country away.

Isaiah Cole escapes his everyday life as a schoolteacher by debating—and trash talking—online under a fake name. For the past four years, his internet persona has been getting closer and closer to another user. They’re friends, and there’s even a little flirtation now and then… but the guy doesn’t know Isaiah’s real name, and they’ve never seen each other’s faces. Until now. Of all the men who could be behind his friend’s avatar, Isaiah is stunned to learn he’s been chatting with Tanner Jeffries, a jaw-droppingly gorgeous forward from his favorite hockey team.

I wait for the signal at crosswalks. I pay my taxes on time. And despite my association with a certain mafia family, I run a clean business providing security for Manhattan's wealthy elite. I don't break the law.

Mason can admit that he's had the hots for rough and gruff Gage Hillcrest for well over a year now. Only Gage is bossy and overbearing as all hell. Not to mention that Gage is a closed book and Mason doesn't know anything about the man. Gage has wanted smart mouthed and sexy, Mason Taylor since he first laid eyes on him. But the two of them are like oil and water. Mason is wild. And well, Gage is not. Mason also has a big house and more money than he'd ever need while Gage is drowning in debt.

Bashiri spends his days loving his animals, running his own meditation studio, and knowing his kind are hunted while hiding in plain sight. He also spends a lot of time avoiding a certain grumpy vampire who rejected him one too many times. When his life begins to change and enemies become bolder, the Blood Boss sends his vampires as protection. Including the sullen Petru.

One hellish moment. One painful decision. And everything radically changed. Years later, I've adjusted to my new life as a P.I. when a long-bearded, red-headed guy walks into an alley. The same dark alley where I was having a talk with the armed men who were following me. The encounter is brief and bloody and ends with him winking at me as he drives away. My curiosity—and some tailing—brings us together again... or so I thought.

I've loved Hendrix Cavanaugh since his high school mascot days, and seeing him grind himself down like this has been driving me up a wall. Now that he's collapsed on stage, I can't watch from the sidelines for a second longer. I know I'm not his type—I'm a network security specialist who wears expensive suits and alphabetizes his spice drawer. In contrast, Hendrix wears all black, including his eyeliner and nail polish, and I doubt he's so much as alphabetized his contacts list.