Craving Forbidden Anthology
.Forbidden—Banned. Prohibited. Not allowed. Off limits.
There’s one word which means something completely different, yet it always seems to go hand in hand with the forbidden… Temptation. It follows the untouchable, clings to the taboo, slowly luring you in, only to corrupt the last bit of self-control you might have. Nothing is more enticing or more alluring than the one thing that has forbidden stamped all over it. Like the beautiful daughter of your mortal enemy. Or the gorgeous best friend of your older brother. There’s also the much older man who makes you want to throw all your inhibitions to the wind. Whatever your vice, this collection is everything you need to indulge. So, forget about the rules. Ignore the warning signs. Embrace the illicit, and allow yourself a taste of the… FORBIDDEN. |
Bad Blood, Novella
She's the Princess of the Hades Horsemen MC, he's the President of their enemy. But their attraction follows no laws, no matter how sacred.
Excerpt:
Vera blinked her eyes. She blinked again. Dark. Black. Empty. She saw nothing. Moving her hand around, she felt carpet beneath her. What the fuck had happened? And then the throbbing ache in her head made itself known. She reached up to touch the area and her hand came away wet. Shit. She hissed as she found an open wound.
Using the wall directly behind her, she pushed her way into a standing position.
Suddenly a door directly across from her was thrown open and blinding light seared into her eyes.
Her blurry vision took in the behemoth of a man in front of her.
She’d daydreamed a lot over the last ten years about what he would grow to be. Her protector, her best friend. But never, in her best dreams, had she envisioned the man before her. He towered well over six feet and his body was stacked with muscles. His booted feet gave way to massive thighs that any girl would love to run her hands over. He wore jeans and a plain back t-shirt that was loose, but did nothing to hide the fact that his chest and abs were most likely equally impressive, if not more. His biceps tested the strength of the cotton, and she watched as he crossed his tattooed arms, making them stand at attention. He wore a black leather cut over the shirt, and nothing else. The simplicity of it made it somehow incredibly masculine. Reluctantly her gaze moved to his face. Dark brown eyes stared down at her. He had several days’ stubble on his face that emphasized the hard angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He was gorgeous. He was a walking orgasm.
But he was also trouble. Because standing before her was Rider Hawkins. The President of Satan’s Sentinels. They were murderers. Every single one of them.
Fuck.
She's the Princess of the Hades Horsemen MC, he's the President of their enemy. But their attraction follows no laws, no matter how sacred.
Excerpt:
Vera blinked her eyes. She blinked again. Dark. Black. Empty. She saw nothing. Moving her hand around, she felt carpet beneath her. What the fuck had happened? And then the throbbing ache in her head made itself known. She reached up to touch the area and her hand came away wet. Shit. She hissed as she found an open wound.
Using the wall directly behind her, she pushed her way into a standing position.
Suddenly a door directly across from her was thrown open and blinding light seared into her eyes.
Her blurry vision took in the behemoth of a man in front of her.
She’d daydreamed a lot over the last ten years about what he would grow to be. Her protector, her best friend. But never, in her best dreams, had she envisioned the man before her. He towered well over six feet and his body was stacked with muscles. His booted feet gave way to massive thighs that any girl would love to run her hands over. He wore jeans and a plain back t-shirt that was loose, but did nothing to hide the fact that his chest and abs were most likely equally impressive, if not more. His biceps tested the strength of the cotton, and she watched as he crossed his tattooed arms, making them stand at attention. He wore a black leather cut over the shirt, and nothing else. The simplicity of it made it somehow incredibly masculine. Reluctantly her gaze moved to his face. Dark brown eyes stared down at her. He had several days’ stubble on his face that emphasized the hard angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He was gorgeous. He was a walking orgasm.
But he was also trouble. Because standing before her was Rider Hawkins. The President of Satan’s Sentinels. They were murderers. Every single one of them.
Fuck.