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Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3) Thunderball (James Bond #9)

Striding to the door, he narrowed his eyes in my direction. I suggest you relax and let me take care of you. You’ll need your energy.

There was a sudden, almost painful tightening of his body as he caught sight of her face, her fierce expression as she swung the weapon back and forth in desperation. Hair thick and white-gold, generous brows, eyes with an almost feline tilt to them. A long nose, balancing out the generous curve of her lips. Awareness of her moved through him like slow, warm honey. She was, in a word—No. None of that, now. Dangerous thoughts. But he could appreciate that she was, apparently, a fighter—though she seemed surprised herself at the fact, looking uneasily between the weapon in her hands and the two dozen men gaping at her. The last half-hearted scuffles had been abandoned in favor of dumb shock at her unexpected appearance. That was reasonable, he supposed. And now the effect of seeing her bloodied and fierce, like a queen on a battlefield, was rather singular. It spoke to his own blood, made it sing its secrets. She was…

Bloodlines (Conversion #2)

A job. Nicholas shook his head, stomping out the blaze of heat that cut across his chest. Payment owed for services rendered.A sharp, deafening crack broke through the faint hum in his ears; Nicholas swung his attention up, toward the aft of the ship. A section of the mizzenmast, the third mast of three, had finally snapped under its own weight, just as he’d feared it might.And it slowed, time did. He let out a sound that was less a warning and more a terrified shout as the wood splintered and the sails collapsed in on themselves with a thwack and flutter. The lines supporting the mast snapped as if God himself had cut them, and the whole of it—the topgallant, the topmast, the rigging, the metal hardware—came crashing down over them.

Harmonys Way (Breeds #8)

The sailors who dove to escape the mast’s crushing weight weren’t able to move far or fast enough to avoid the tangle of sails and rigging. Captain Hall roared out, The girl! Find the girl!The men from both crews fell on the wreckage with their axes and swords, cutting it away, searching beneath it. Nicholas knew better. She’d been standing near where the mast smashed through the bulwark, but not in its path. The impact wouldn’t have struck her directly, but knocked her back—

He leaned over the rail, searching the dark water between the hulls of the two ships, and—yes, there—a ring of white where something had fallen, struck the surface, and promptly sunk.

Nick! he heard the captain call, but he’d already shrugged out of his jacket and waistcoat and vaulted himself over the rail and into the sea.Tossing it away, the flash of black writing begged me to unfold it.

I didn’t relish the notion of destroying the creation—even if it was demeaning—but curiosity itched too hard. I scooped up the little butterfly, then tugged on the folded lines to reveal the note inside.Scrawled with masculine penmanship the letter read:

Stealing Parker (Hundred Oaks #2)

I came here to get you out of my thoughts. But you fell asleep, and I’m beginning to doubt I will ever achieve that. For a man like me, that is an issue. Therefore, I’m leaving the moment you wake up.No odes of promises to come back or hints that he’d request to share me again. He’d had his one night and been honest enough that I wasn’t enough to capture his attention.

His words sharpened until they glittered with stinging barbs, delivering venom into my heart.If that was the only pleasure I had, at least I knew what it felt like.

I have to write it down so I never forget.Mr. Prest would become a figment of my imagination, locked forever in my toilet paper novel.

I wouldn’t tell anyone about him.I wouldn’t grow to know him or care for him.

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