One book from one bestselling author is exciting, but when you put ten all together what you get is something more.

Something Intense.

Intense 2 is a collection of stories from ten authors who bring their A game every time they sit down with a blank page. Combined together you get a limited edition read jam-packed with passionate encounters, powerful alphas, and romance that will keep you warm at night.

This is a must read for any romance reading, page turning book addict. Download it now before it’s gone!

This collection includes:

Cambria Hebert – Text (novel)

Julie Richman – Bad Son Rising (novel)

Tijan Meyer – Brady Remington Landed Me In Jail (novel)

Ilsa Madden-Mills – Very Wicked Things (novel)

Eliza Lund – The Agreement (novel) / Drake Restrained (novella)

Liv Morris – Love Handles Club (novella)

J.l. Mac – Reach Me (novella)

Author Kailin Gow – The Blue Room (novella) / Heat (novella)

Brady Remington Landed Me In Jail

By Tijan

He was different when he was with me. If we’d been at the party, he would’ve had the hard edgy look to him. He liked his tattoos to be seen, but I saw that he had pulled a blanket to cover the tribal tattoo on his stomach. The one on his shoulder was hiding in the shadows.

“It’s not that I don’t like her. It’s just that…she’s one of them.”

“One of what?”

“You know. Your girlfriends.”

“My what?”

“Your girlfriends.” I didn’t think that I needed to spell it out. “She’s…I don’t know. She’s cool and confident and…she’s not the type of person that I’m friends with.”

“You’re friends with me.” His voice was quiet.

The air shifted again. Here we were…I knew that I needed to tread lightly, very lightly. I met his gaze, swallowed over a knot in my throat, and felt that we were talking about something different.

“You’re different. I mean…we’re not normal, Brady.”

A scowl formed at his mouth. “What are you talking about? We’re not normal?”

“You know—you’re…one of them and I’m…not.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He threw himself off the bed and stalked towards me. “You are just like me. You are no different than me. You are no different from Clarissa.”

“Yeah, but…” I was pressed against the doorframe as Brady towered over me. “I’m not one of your girlfriends.”

His chest was in front of mine. Another step, just an inch, and we’d be pressed against each other. His gaze was glued to my lips. I kept looking from his eyes to his lips, but then I felt something strange wash over me when he murmured, throatily, “You’re more than that.”

I sucked in a large breath, I couldn’t let it out. I stood there, frozen in place. He skimmed the side of my face with his hand, then tucked my hair back and cupped my cheek. He moved close and slowly, so slowly, rested his forehead against mine. His breath tickled my lips. “You’re my best friend, Ray.”

My hands had lifted to his arms. I felt his muscles shift underneath my fingers and I clasped harder. I couldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?” The words wrangled out of my throat.

Brady didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his mouth against my temple. My hands slid from his arms to his shoulders and then behind his neck. One of his hands cupped the back of my neck where he applied pressure and arched my head back. The other hand skimmed the side of my robe. When his fingers spread out, the top of his thumb brushed underneath my breast.

“Brady, I don’t…” I couldn’t talk anymore, but I knew there was something that I needed to say. I knew it, but…

“Shhh.” His lips touched mine. They rested there, but there was no pressure, no demand from him.

Then his lips opened over mine. A surge of need rushed through me and I clasped him tight. Brady pushed me against the doorframe and he urged my leg to wrap around his waist. I couldn’t get enough of him. It was like before, but this time it was different. I knew what would happen.

I never thought I’d do this or be like this, but it was Brady.

 

 

UFC Middleweight fighter, Ryley Jameson, swore it would never happen again. He was done with his ex, and over the pain she’d inflicted when she left him. At least, that’s what he tells people. Maybe if he says it enough, he’ll begin to believe it himself.

Regretting her decision to let Ryley go, Ashleigh Warren comes back into town and confronts him. Holding only one secret back, she puts the rest on the line and asks for a second chance. Too bad he’s not going to let her off easy.

Camden Jameson loves his twin brother, but his jealousy runs deep. They may be identical in looks, but that’s where the similarities end. When Ashleigh comes back into Ryley’s life, Camden has the perfect opportunity for revenge. Two birds, one stone.

A journey to the Dark Side affects them all, but only one feels the true sting of revenge.

The magnetic feeling I always felt when he was near pulled me to him. Out of the corner of my eye, Gabriella watched on in amazement, but I couldn’t focus on anyone other than my fighter; the one I loved, but left because I was afraid. I slowly approached him, biting my lip to keep it from trembling. He lifted his weights, one arm at a time, his muscles bulging with each curl. Those arms used to hold me, but I was too stupid not to stay in their warmth and protection.

“Ryley,” I murmured softly.

Either he didn’t want to acknowledge me or he couldn’t hear. Even my own voice sounded foreign to my ears. Moving closer, I stood in front of him and took a deep breath. “Ryley,” I repeated. “Can we talk?”Setting the weights down, he lowered his head and balled his hands into tight fists. His knuckles were torn wide open and all I wanted to do was touch him. Without looking at me, he stood and towered over me, glancing around the room. He looked at everything, but me.

“Let’s go,” he demanded.

Before following him to the back, I looked at Gabriella who frowned and shook her head. This wasn’t going to be good. I felt like I was being led to slaughter by the way everyone watched me with trepidation in their eyes. All I wanted was for Ryley to look at me and listen to what I had to say. However, with each step I took it felt more and more like the end.

Once we got to the back, Ryley opened the door to an empty office and turned on the light. As soon as I walked in, he shut the door behind us and locked it. I swallowed hard as he stood there, head down, body coiled tighter than a snake’s. I wanted to go to him and wrap my arms around him, but I was frozen. I wanted to hear him call me angel like he used to when we’d make love.

“I went to your house this morning. Your brother wasn’t too happy with me. Did he tell you I came by?”

He stiffened and sighed. “No.”

“I thought as much,” I whispered. “I guess I can’t blame him.” Panic started to set in and I could feel the blood rushing to my head. I felt nauseated and lightheaded, but I swallowed it back as hard as I could. “I’m so sorry, Ryley. I never wanted to hurt you. But you have to know, there’s nothing going on between me and Colin.”

He scoffed and leaned against the wall, looking at my feet. “It didn’t look like that yesterday.”

“I know what it must’ve looked like and I know you don’t trust me after everything I did, but you have to believe me. All I want is a chance to prove it to you, to prove that—”

“To prove what?” he exploded, lifting his fiery gaze to mine for the first time. My breath instantly left my lungs and I faltered, tears welling in my eyes. “To prove that I can trust you? That you want to be with me? How the fuck do you expect me to do that?”

Shaking my head, I found the courage to move forward, tears falling down my cheeks. When I lifted my hands to his face, he turned his head, the connection gone. “No, that’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say that I love you. That I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

For a second it seemed as if he was listening, but then he jerked his face out of my hold and moved away. “I think you’re missing the point. You see, I don’t want you back. I’m happy with the way things are.”

“Really?” I choked. “So you get to screw whoever you want and party it up? Is that what makes you happy?”

Smirking, he shrugged his shoulders. “That’s just the way my life is. You wouldn’t even want me back if you knew the things I’ve done since you left.”

USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can’t forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.

Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over nine novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.

From the author of One Pink Line comes a story about letting go of the past and finding bravery in the depths of fear. Set on the sun-soaked beaches of Thailand and the rough waters of the Indian Ocean, The Unimaginable paints a vivid portrait of a young woman on a journey to find herself—and her harrowing fight for survival.

After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules, Jessica Gregory moves from her small Indiana town to Phuket, Thailand. But her newfound routine is upended with the arrival of Grant Flynn, a captivating, elusive man who is sailing around the world while trying to move on from a past tragedy. Jessica volunteers to help crew Grant’s boat, Imagine, on a passage across the Indian Ocean and finds herself falling in love with him as the voyage gets underway. But when disaster strikes, Jessica must summon her courage as the crew is confronted by unspeakable terrors––and, aboard a boat named for such promise, comes the unimaginable.

“Excuse me.”

My thoughts were elsewhere when I heard a man’s voice and then looked up from the dustpan to see him standing at my classroom door. His voice was strong and captivating, much like the rest of him.

“Can I help you?” I asked, and we locked eyes. His smile made me catch my breath.

“Sorry to interrupt. I would like to make a donation to the school.”

I brushed some loose hairs out of my eyes. “How are you with a broom?”

“Horrible.” He looked around. “But I’m a great storyteller.”

He was older than me, late thirties maybe, with rugged good looks. I guessed it’d been at least two days since he shaved. But he was tall and strikingly handsome, and his comment piqued my interest.

“Maybe you’d like to come to one of my classes and share your stories.”

He cocked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. “Okay, you’re on.”

My face lit up. “Really? I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“Then why’d you ask?” I let out a small laugh.

“I would love to.” He took a couple steps closer. “You look familiar,” he said with a knowing glance.

“I do?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “I just said you did.”

I shrugged and then leaned the broom against the desk and extended my hand. “I’m Jessica. I’m a teacher here, and also the assistant director.”

He shook my hand, and I felt it in my heart.

“Grant Flynn. Nice to meet you, Jessica. You’re American?”

“I sure am. Sounds like you are as well.”

He nodded. “How long have you been in Thailand?”

“About four months.”

“Have you been with the school the whole time?” he asked.

“I have. It’s been a wonderful experience.”

He crossed his arms again and studied me. “I see,” he said, not taking his eyes off of me. “Are you the right person to talk to about making a donation? I’d like to leave a check if that’s all right.”

“Of course, yes.”

He grabbed his checkbook from his front pocket and pulled a pen from behind his ear. His presence put my nerves on high alert, and the irony that I was behaving like a giddy schoolgirl was not lost on me either.

“Thank you, Mr. Flynn. This is very kind of you.”

Many visitors to Phuket would come by the local schools and leave donations. It was sort of a ritual for some, a way to leave their mark, a gesture of kindness for many boaters to visit the schools and bring supplies or leave a small contribution of a hundred dollars or so.

“Please call me Grant,” he said as he wrote.

I stood behind him dusting myself off when Sophie walked in.

“Hey, mate, what are you doing here?” she asked.

Both Grant and I looked at her, but he answered. “Told you I was going to come by this week.”

“Right. You met my girl, Jess, did ya?”

He turned to me. “I did. She was helping me decide whether my donation should be manual labor or monetary, but I’m going to stick with my original plan.”

He tore the check out and handed it to me.

“You two know each other?” I asked.

“Grant’s been coming in to The Islander all week,” she said.

He pointed at me. “That’s where I know you from.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, taking the check from him. “I’ll see that our director gets this today, and I look forward to hearing your stories.”

I glanced down and nearly gasped when I saw the check was for five thousand dollars.

“I appreciate it.” He touched my shoulder. “See you later,” he said to Sophie, then waved his hand over his head and walked out, allowing me to breathe freely once again.

Sophie and I went to the window and watched as he got into his rental car.

“You know him from the bar?” I asked.

“He and his mate have been coming in every night. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them. They’re docked at the marina, both Americans.”

“Niran had me on lunches last week.”

“He’s a charmer, eh?”

I nodded. “And quite generous.”

“How generous?” she asked.

“Five thousand dollars generous.”

“Shit, no,” she said, and whisked the check from my grip. “Skylar’s going to freak. You working tonight?”

“Nope. Not until Saturday.”

“All right then. See you later,” she said, and left.

I picked the broom up and saw the bus arrive, but all

I could think about was Grant Flynn.

When I came to school the next morning there was a package at the front door with my name on it. Inside were two DustBusters and a note that read: These are more my speed. I’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.

Grant

(1) Kindle Paperwhite and signed prints of: KAT FIGHT, ONE PINK LINE, FINDING BLISS, and THE UNIMAGINABLE (US)

Dina Silver is an author, a wine drinker, and an excellent parallel parker. She is the author of Kat Fight, Finding Bliss, and One Pink Line, which was chosen as a 2012 Top Title by IndieReader and was a finalist in their 2012 Discovery Awards. She lives with her husband, son, and twenty-pound tabby cat in suburban Chicago. She’d prefer to live where it’s warm year round, but then she’d never stay home and write anything.

Some people wait decades to meet their soul mate. Courtney Kaufman suspects she met hers in high school—only to lose him at seventeen. Since then, Courtney’s social life has been a series of meaningless encounters, though she’s made a few close friends along the way. Especially her roommate, Max Cooper, who oozes damaged bad-boy vibes from every pore.

Max knows about feeling lost and trying to move beyond the pain—he’s been on his own since he was sixteen. Now it’s time to find out if he can ever go home again, and Courtney’s the only one he trusts to go with him. But the trip to Providence could change everything…because the more time he spends with Courtney, the harder it is to reconcile what he wants and what he thinks he deserves.

It started out so simple. One misfit helping another. Now Max will do anything to show Courtney that for every heart that’s ever been broken, there’s another that can make it complete.

“Hey,” I said, before they could notice me staring. “I think you’re waiting for me?”

“Oh, hey.” The girl hopped up to clear the chair for me. “I’m Dana. I bet Ji Hoo that it was another prank call.”

“I should’ve taken your money,” the blond guy said.

He must be Ji Hoo.

“I’m Evan.” The guy radiated a thuggish vibe between the hair and his tattoos on his forearms. He had on an ouroboros ring that wrapped halfway to the knuckle of his middle finger. By the look of his hands, he was also the guitarist.

“Courtney.”

Dana waved at the seat. “Go ahead, I’ll tell you a little about the group before you play. If you don’t like what you hear, it’ll save you the trouble.”

“You want a beer?” Ji Hoo asked.

When I nodded, Evan stood to get one from the bar. He was shorter than I’d have guessed from the width of his shoulders. He rapped on the counter, his voice a deep baritone rumble as he ordered my drink. I swung my gaze back to Dana, who was talking about Racing Sorrow.

“Ji Hoo and I are both majoring in music,” she was saying.

“Whereas I’m between academic engagements,” Evan added. “I was, but I lost faith in the system.”

“You were just too lazy to go to class,” Dana said.

Ji Hoo tapped out an impatient rhythm against the table. Betting he’s the drummer. “Do you plan to tell her about our sound at any point?”

That means Dana probably plays bass.

“I’m on it. Basically we play a 50-50 mix of original music and covers. Mumford and Sons, The Lumineers, Of Monsters and Men, Imagine Dragons—”

“I think she gets the idea,” Evan cut in. “Can you sing?”

“Not well enough to front a group, but I can harmonize.”

“Alto or soprano?” Dana asked.

Ji Soo nudged her. “Five bucks says alto.”

“You win.” I told him.

Dana seemed pleased, at least. “Nice. I’m mezzo soprano. Ji Soo is tenor and Evan brings the bass-baritone.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Evan said. “Back to basics for a minute. We’re folk rock-indie, harder than Mumford. If that sounds like your thing, go play a song.”

It took me a few seconds to realize they were all staring expectantly, waiting for me to respond. I bent down to check the sheet music and picked out Ho Hey by the Lumineers. Maybe this was a stupid idea since I’d never performed, not even a piano recital when I was eight. But at worst, I’d embarrass myself in front of the ten people currently in the bar.

Sitting down, I pretended I was home, playing in our dining room. The tinge of nerves faded when I imagined Eli sitting beside me. I delivered a simple, wistful version of the song devoid of showy flourishes. Lifting my head, I took a breath and faced my three judges.

 

I WANT IT THAT WAY – AS LONG AS YOU LOVE ME – THE SHAPE OF MY HEART

Ann Aguirre is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author and RITA winner with a degree in English Literature; before she began writing full time, she was a clown, a clerk, a voice actress, and a savior of stray kittens, not necessarily in that order. She grew up in a yellow house across from a cornfield, but now she lives in sunny Mexico with her husband, children, and various pets. Ann likes books, emo music, action movies, and she writes all kinds of genre fiction for adults and teens, published with Harlequin, Macmillan, and Penguin, among others.