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The Con Artist
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT:
Quill set the box next to the cage and walked the few feet to where Saskia sat like a sculpture on the ground. He pulled her up and, without a word, began to undress her. She didn’t dare speak. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her hips, his hands running carefully over each inch of skin as he exposed it to the cool air. She braced her hands against his shoulders as she stepped out of the jeans, kicking her own shoes off in the process. She’d worn a thong under the pants—subconsciously seducing him, knowing he’d discover it because of course this was coming. Quill ran an appreciative hand over the bared flesh, then removed the thong as well. She was left in the black cami top and collar. She hadn’t bothered with a bra on the plane. She’d tried not to think too much about that choice. It took almost nothing, not even the hint of a breeze, for her nipples to stand at attention. Typically, she wore bras with padding, not to look larger, but to avoid looking sexually excited even when she wasn’t. It attracted the wrong kind of attention. And she couldn’t be bothered to constantly explain to men with a frat-boy mentality that they just did that. Quill cupped her breasts over the thin fabric and tweaked her nipples into even harder points as he stared into her eyes in the most unnerving way. She tried to look down. Some demure submissive instinct? She wasn’t sure, but when her gaze dropped, he slipped a hand under her chin and forced her gaze back to his. Minutes passed in this aching silence. It was a challenge. A game. Who would speak first? As in any negotiation, whoever spoke first, lost. She knew that at least. She’d already lost once with this man, and she wasn’t willing to keep doing it. Finally, he peeled her top off, and she stood on the cold marble floor, the sun from the skylight warming her back… waiting. She didn’t wait long. He led her quietly to one of the Greek columns on the south end of the gallery and extracted a key from his pocket to unlock the chains. He turned her to face the column and locked each wrist in place so that her arms were stretched high over her head in a V. Then he did the same with her ankles. She felt as if she’d been left for a lion to rip apart in some huge amphitheater while the bored elite looked on. Quill dragged the mystery box over to the column. She wouldn’t let herself look inside, too afraid if she saw what all he’d brought out here to torture her with, she’d start screaming and begging for mercy. She closed her eyes as large, strong hands skimmed over her back. Despite her fear, her body arched into his caress. He pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder, then he rooted around in the box until he found what he was looking for. Saskia wished there was a clock on the wall, something to mark this length of silence. Some tiny clicking tick tick tick so she could feel and know that time was still a thing that moved even as she stood frozen in this space. She waited for him to say something. Anything. But now that it had begun, he seemed devoted to this eerie peace. She jumped as something thudded against the skylight. There was a flapping of wings, and she looked up in time to see a disoriented raven fly off. A beat later, the whip came down across her back, and she winced against its bite. She hadn’t had time to register the sound as it sliced through the air, the noise competing with the bird outside. But she heard it the second time, so sharp and loud it seemed it could rip time and space apart. The leather licked across her flesh like a serpent made of flame, and all she could do in response was tremble in his chains. Screaming, crying, begging, all of these things would have been appropriate, but Saskia couldn’t do it. She couldn’t break this vow of silence she’d committed to, and it seemed neither could he. Neither of them spoke, too locked into this trance to interrupt its flow now. She counted each lash in her mind. She felt his strength, not in how hard he waled on her, but in how he restrained himself and held each strike in check. Finally, he returned the whip to the box. She tensed, waiting for something else—not sure she could take more when no comfort was offered. While he hadn’t put her in physical peril, the lashes were much harder and more intense than the light play she’d experienced at the few kinky parties she’d been to on a lark. And here there was no magic word she could say to make it all stop. All she could do if it became too much was beg and hope he’d have mercy on her. Saskia startled when his hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her back, turning her tear-streaked face toward him. He left a long, lingering kiss on her mouth that took her breath away. When he pulled back, he said, “I’m going to paint you now. Just like this.”
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Wolf
-- EXCERPT: “Reese!” I ran to catch up to her outside the school she taught at. I had Becky run a background check on her so I could find out where she lived and worked. I figured it would be a little creepy to show up at her house, but work was good. There were other people around and she would feel safe. I took in every inch of her as she turned toward me. She was short, maybe 5’ 3”, but she was so damn beautiful. She was curvy and had blonde hair in one of those pixie haircuts. It looked damn good on her too. She turned and her eyes widened. She looked around quickly, so I followed her gaze, thinking she saw something suspicious. “What’s wrong? Is someone after you?” “No,” she said incredulously. “Why would you assume that?” “Because you were looking around, like there was danger or something.” “Yeah, you’re the danger! Why are you here?” “Because I wanted to talk to you. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot in the coffee shop and you’ve been ignoring my calls-” “Because I didn’t give you my number.” “Well, I didn’t get it on our date-” “We never had a date. Look, it was nice to meet you, but there’s nothing going on between us. We aren’t dating.” I scratched the back of my neck, not sure why she was denying what I saw clear as day. “Okay, I can see how you would think that there’s nothing between us. I mean, high intensity situations cause stress on new relationships.” “We’re not in a relationship.” “But we could be,” I grinned. “See, I think you’re not really giving me a chance here. We had a connection back in that coffee shop.” “What we had was some banter before I found out that you murder people for a living!” I shook my head slightly. “See, that’s not entirely accurate. First, I told you that I worked in security, and I even told you that sometimes I took out the bad guys. I never lied about that. And second, I never ever murder anyone. I strategically take out people that should otherwise be dead or imprisoned because they’re really bad people.” She stared at me dumbfounded and I grinned, thinking I had gotten through to her. “I don’t believe it.” “You’re starting to come around, am I right?” “Are you really this…obtuse?” “Okay, I resent that. I’m not stupid. I’ll admit, there are some times that I can be a little…oblivious and it’s gotten me into trouble, but I know exactly what happened in that coffee shop and you do too. You can’t deny that we had something.” “Yes, I can. We didn’t have anything in the coffee shop. See? I just denied it.” “I object your denial,” I said firmly. “What? You can’t just…ugh!” “You’re so cute when you get flustered. I could just pick you up and carry you around in my pocket all the time.” She glared at me and stomped past me to her car. “So, should I pick you up tonight?” “No!” She spun around, putting her hands on her hips as she stared me down. “I don’t want to go out tonight. In fact, I don’t want to see you ever again!” She got into her car and slammed the door. I went over and knocked on her window. “Seven?” She threw her car in reverse and squealed out of the parking lot. “Hey, this is a twenty mile an hour zone!” I shouted. 
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Tasting Her Christmas Cookies
-- EXCERPT:
“We are having a Christmas bath scene in the near future,” I said to the camera, “with holiday bath bombs and themed cocktails. But unfortunately, it won’t be tonight. The bake-off starts tomorrow, baking fans!” I looked longingly at the bathtub. Then, making sure the phone was definitely not recording, because I did not need to be that kind of Instagrammer, I took a quick shower. I seriously could not get over how huge the bathroom was. I could live in it. With a toaster and a mini fridge, I would totally be good. After wrapping myself in the robe, I tied a T-shirt around my hair. I had frizzy hair on a good day; keeping my curls manageable was a perpetual struggle. I applied a gingerbread-cookie-scented moisturizer while my videos uploaded. Because I was busy scrolling through my phone and answering comments as I came out of the bathroom, I didn’t notice the half-naked man until he swore. I looked up and screamed. “Help! Help! Stalker!” I shrieked and ineffectively pointed at the stranger. Between the rippling muscles, the washboard abs, and an ass I could bounce a quarter on, I hoped he wasn’t actually here to hurt me, because he could do some damage. Pointing and shrieking wasn’t going to stop him. Fortunately, he looked more shocked and horrified than angry and violent. “Stop screaming!” he bellowed. A freezing breeze blew into the room. It was as if the man had brought the rage of winter into the master suite with him. He looked like it, too, with his ice-blue eyes and silver-white hair. “This is my penthouse. You are not authorized to be here. That makes you the stalker!” I stopped screaming. It clearly wasn’t helping anything. I also couldn’t help but notice that the bathroom wasn’t the only thing that was huge in the room. With him wearing nothing but boxer briefs, I could tell Santa had brought the handsome man a very large Christmas package indeed. The breeze blew in from the balcony, swirling the strange man’s clean and masculine scent around the room. I forced myself to ignore it. “Get out of my house,” Big Christmas Package said flatly. “You get out!” I shrieked. “I’m a bake-off contestant. This isn’t your room!” “What the—” he grabbed his clothes, tugging on his pants. “The Great Christmas Bake-Off? I cannot have Christmas invading every element of my life. This is ridiculous. Christmas is ridiculous. It’s such a stupid, childish holiday.” He punctuated his words by snatching up articles of clothing. “Hey now!” I said, hands on my hips, fear subsiding. “Christmas is never ridiculous. It’s the best holiday ever. And if you can’t see that, well then, you’re just a grinch, aren’t you?” He advanced on me. I was suddenly very aware of how large he was. Christmas package notwithstanding, this dude was tall, broad shouldered, with rippling muscles. He could probably split me in two. Yes, please. “You’re some stupid little baker who never outgrew the childish fantasy of Christmas,” he sneered. My nose was inches away from his chest. He glowered down at me. I was too angry to be aware of his half-naked body. Okay, maybe I was like fifteen percent aware. But the majority of my energy was focused on being offended on behalf of Christmas. “Don’t insult baking,” I said, giving him my best “I want to speak to the manager vibe,” though it was ruined by the fact that I had to crane my neck up to see him and that I was completely naked under the robe. “And never insult Christmas!” His nostrils flared slightly. “Men like you constantly belittle the work that women do to keep cultural traditions like Christmas alive,” I continued, poking him in the chest. “We decorate homes to make them cozy.” Poke. “We cook holiday dinners and bake festive desserts.” Poke. “We host parties that bring families and friends together.” Before I could poke him again, he grabbed my hand in his much-larger one. Then, realizing what he’d done, he quickly released it. “I will not stand for your bad attitude!” I declared. He glared down at me, strong jaw clenched, eyes cold as a frozen lake. “I can’t even believe this,” he finally snarled. He grabbed his briefcase and stormed out, still shirtless. “Oh my God!” Fiona exclaimed, wide-eyed, as she ran into the room. She hugged me then pushed me to sit on the bed. “Are you okay? Who was that? Why was he in here? Someone call the police!” “I knew it! You’re trying to steal my boyfriend,” Amber yelled at me, rushing into the room. “That’s Owen Frost, and he’s mine!” 
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Title: The Beautiful Years Part V
Author: Annie Rose Welch
Genre:Contemporary/ Mafia Romance
Release Date: November 14, 2019 Cover Designer: Buoni Amici Press
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
History books are written about why men go to war. Religion. Land. Oil. And the most dangerous reason of all—a woman, the kind worth risking your heart for. My wife, Scarlett Fausti, was that woman. She sparked a war amongst the world’s most dangerous men. Enemies had attacked us from the inside, from the outside, thirsty for blood and ready to spill more for power. No one in our world could be trusted, except for a few. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. My adversaries were ready to see me on my knees. Only one person could bring me there, though—that woman, my wife. But as it’s been said, all’s fair in love and war, and to keep her alive, to keep her safe, I’d willingly fall at the feet of monsters.
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Born and raised in New Orleans, Annie has a habit of shortening her words and telling long stories. She speaks with a southern flair and cooks with it too. At the tender age of twenty- one, she hitched up her wagons (took her first plane ride) and moved out west to the big shake (California). Her passion for writing began one sleepless night when she imagined a gorgeous woman and a man with maniacal hair floating above her like lightning bugs falling from the sky. Curious about them, their story, and why they were floating around in her head, she sat down and penned (typed) her first novel, Marigny Street. A dream come true for her, she hasn’t stopped writing since. She loves a damn good love story, always has, no matter what the genre. She is particularly moved by imperfect love that in its own unique way is perfect, the notion of love at first sight, soul mates, and things that are generally out of the norm.
When she’s not writing she enjoys dabbling in photography and finding new, inspirational music to add to her collection. She currently resides in Texas (where everything really is bigger) with her husband, daughter, and their three peculiar dogs, Boudreaux, Tabasco, and Vanna Loo (who, call her crazy, bark with an accent).
For lagniappe (a little extra), a virtual cup of café au lait and beignets, please visit Annie’s website:
     
  Kindle UnlimitedPart I (On Sale for 99¢)AMAZONPart IIAMAZONPart IIIAMAZONPart IVAMAZON 
UNRAVEL YOUby Diana A. Hicks Publication Date: November 18, 2019 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
FREE WITH KINDLE UNLIMITED
Amazon: https://amzn.to/
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2qULsch
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/32QnmfK
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2CMpNWj
Amazon MX: https://amzn.to/2XggQxQ
 SYNOPSISIt’s the wedding of the summer… College graduate Valentina de Cordoba never expected to fall for the handsome and intimidating Derek Cole when she accepted his offer to rent his property. From cottage to mansion, this single mom is certain she doesn’t deserve him or the fairytale unfolding. But Derek gets what he wants… and he wants her. He’s “the one” for her, but before she says I do, she has to survive a month long trip to his family’s estate in Atlanta. Gaining approval from four brothers and an over-protective mother might just be her hardest test yet. For hot billionaire Derek Cole, this homecoming is a chance to mend the damage he caused when he walked away from the family business. But all it takes is a bless her heart from his mother for Derek to know it will take more than tea to get the two women he loves on the same page, let alone under the same roof. Just when they think nothing else can go wrong… their past and future collide.
ABOUT DIANA A. HICKS
Diana A. Hicks is an award-winning author of steamy contemporary romance and science fiction. Her latest release LOVE OVER LATTES, Book 1 in her Desert Monsoon Series, is a 2018 Readers’ Favorite Honorable Mention in the Romance – Contemporary genre! When Diana is not writing, she enjoys kickboxing, traveling, and indulging in the simple joys of life like wine and chocolate. She lives in Atlanta, and loves spending time with her two children and husband. Connect with Diana on social media to stay up to date on her latest releases. Website| Facebook | Facebook Group |Instagram | Goodreads | Twitter | Bookbub | Pinterest | Amazon Author Profile ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
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Title: BLINDSIDED Author: Amy Daws Genre: Sports Romance Release Date: November 21, 2019 Cover Designer: Amy Daws ⚽ ⚽ ⚽   What happens when an almost thirty-year-old virgin agrees to let her Scottish footballer best friend give her some lessons in seduction? Lots of banter, awkwardness, jealousy, and heat. Midfielder Maclay “Mac” Logan is a loud-mouthed, tattooed ginger content with focusing on football. But when an adorably-freckled seamstress comes barreling into his life, he finds Netflix-And-Bickering with her to be his new favorite pastime. Freya Cook is used to being the invisible woman with a needle and thread, offering cheeky punchlines as she helps dress London’s finest. She’s plus-sized in body and spirit, and other than her friendship with Mac, talking to the opposite sex is one skill she never mastered. However, after one innocent game of Never Have I Ever, Mac offers to play Love Coach for Freya. What neither of them see coming are the feelings that develop when the clothes come off. Now they’re both about to learn the biggest lesson of all: Don't fall in love with your best friend. 
 Hands down the best book I’ve read of the year. I feel like I wanted for Mac and Freya for forever, but it was just my impatience because I wanted them SO MUCH. Freya is so awesome, and SO relatable. Her thoughts, her figure. Her fears. Not feeling like she’s good enough. Then there’s Mac. Who is also awesome. And has his own faults... I just love their relationship- from Netflixing Heartland, Hercules the cat... and how freaking swoon worthy Mac is when he becomes her “love coach”. I can’t even tell you how much I loved it. I honestly want to start reading it again, it was that good. Amy builds you up with this amazing story. Sends you gutted for a bit, and brings it all back to you in this perfect package. Read. This. Book. -Goodreads Reviewer  I wake the next morning to a rough tongue touching my nipple. A smile spreads across my face as I open my eyes and expect to find Freya. My face falls when I see it’s her fucking demon of a cat laving at my pec like it’s going to produce milk at any moment. “Fuck off, you wee bastard!” I bellow and shove the animal off my chest. Hercules takes off down the hallway, and a snort echoes in the room. I turn my gaze to find Freya perched on a chair in the corner of her bedroom. She’s dressed in a long nightshirt, her red hair a wild mess of curls, and her makeup smudged like she was properly fucked last night. And she looks positively entertained. “Did you just sit there and watch your cat violate me?” I croak, sitting up and rubbing my tender nipple. She giggles and steadies herself so as not to spill the two cups of coffee in her hands. “I came in to bring you a coffee, but Hercules looked like he was warming up to you, so I just sat down here to not interrupt. I had no idea he was going to lick your tit.” She bursts out laughing all over again. “You and I are in a fight then,” I reply gruffly, propping myself up on the headboard of her bed. “That was disturbing.” She nods, her face still tormented with poorly concealed laughter. “For us all.” 
Check out Amy's Facebook page for an awesome paperback giveaway! 
⚽ ⚽ ⚽   Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 25 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in England. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she's watching Gilmore Girls, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance. For more of Amy's work, visit: http://www.amydawsauthor.com 
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Title: Haunted Hearts
Author: Christine Pope
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Cover Designer: Lou Harper - Cover Affairs
Editor: Katherine Tomlinson, Story Authority
Publisher: Dark Valentine Press
Publication Date: November 20th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb:
His prison lives in his very bones. She holds the key that could free him…or break him.
Elena Salazar doesn’t exactly have permission to house-sit, but she’s sure her cousin Ava won’t mind the not-quite break-in. After all, Ava would want her to feel safe. And free. Two concepts Elena’s still adjusting to after eleven years a prisoner in her own home, thanks to her terrifying ability to summon demons.
She manages to make peace with the resident ghost in Ava’s house, but she has to do some really fast talking when a tattooed, tautly muscled warlock shows up with Ava’s keys in his hand and deep-seated pain in his troubled eyes.
The Salvadoran Escobar clan is healing under new primus Gabriel’s leadership. But no one is likely to forget that the cruel former primus used Alessandro Escobar and his fearful gift as a weapon, unwilling though he was. When Gabriel sends him to Ava’s house for an extended “vacation,†Alessandro packs his bags with a heavy heart.
No one warned him the house was already occupied.
Elena is beautiful, skittish, fragile, with a demon for a friend and a nervous habit of hiding behind her books and her art. Alessandro drinks in her sweetness like water from a desert spring. But if he dares reveal who he is, what he is, the key to her heart could vanish, leaving him the lonely prisoner of his gift.
This time, for good.
Note: Haunted Hearts, the final book in Christine Pope’s Witches of Canyon Road series, can be enjoyed as a standalone paranormal romance.
USA Today bestseller Christine Pope is the author of the paranormal romance Witches of Cleopatra Hill series and the Djinn Wars series, among many other books (sixty and counting!). Researching UFOs brought her to magical Sedona, Arizona, where she now makes her home. Find out more about her books at christinepope.com.
Author Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2X9svOI
Twitter: https://twitter.com/christinejpope
Buy Links:
Hidden Gifts: https://amzn.to/2ZXOaLd
Darker Paths: https://amzn.to/2vACSya
Mysterious Ways: https://amzn.to/2WhIIAw
A Canyon Road Christmas: https://amzn.to/2GXph9o
Demon Born: https://amzn.to/2vBEjNa
An Ill Wind: https://amzn.to/2UYhYmT
Higher Ground: https://amzn.to/2K3i0rq
Haunted Hearts: https://amzn.to/2rRUuHh
NIGHT’S KISSby Mary Hughes Publication Date: November 18, 2019 Genres: Adult, Entangled: Amara, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires
Amazon: https://amzn.to/
iTunes: https://apple.co/
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2QmgQLr
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2CMwrvP
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Ohq09e
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/35dwDA7
 SYNOPSISAs a human who hunts vampires, I risk death each night I take to the streets. Bloodsuckers are stupidly fast. I have only my wits, my practice, and my weapons. Oh yeah, and my rage. Vampires killed my parents before my eyes when I was young. My revenge? I’ll destroy every last one of the evil bastards, starting with their king. But only one man can help me locate the king. Achingly tall, dark, and too-sexy-for-his-own-good, Ryker is gorgeous enough to be the vamp king himself. But the devilish arch to his black eyebrow, his white, unfangy grin, and rocking the daytime are good clues that he’s human. We’ll have to work together as uneasy allies if I hope to get my final revenge on the king—only now it seems evil monsters are also after our prey, and they’ll stop at nothing to see us all dead. And why are they having so much trouble finding the king? Each book in the Ancients series is STANDALONE: * Night’s Caress * Night’s Kiss
ABOUT MARY HUGHES
I write wickedly fun romantic adventures and steamy paranormal romances, stories that crackle with action and love. Challenging, alpha men–and women not afraid of a challenge. Oh, do the sparks fly when he meets THE woman guaranteed to infuriate and inflame him most. In real life I’m an author, a spouse and mother, a flutist, a computer geek, and a binge-TV-watcher of The Flash, Elementary, NCIS, and Wynonna Earp. Website | Facebook | Bookbub | Goodreads | Twitter | Pinterest | Newsletter | Amazon Author Profile ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
Alee
-- EXCERPT: Funeral food is like every other party food. Pinwheel sandwiches, mini-meatballs in a brown sauce, wilted salad, and an assortment of cheese and crackers. Laine plucks a cucumber from the tray. He dips it in ranch then shoves it in his mouth with an inappropriately timed sexy smile. “Bryn hates baby carrots. She said there was something unnatural about them.” “Toss them.” Laine points to the trash receptacle. “She’s right, they look like fat little baby fingers.” He inspects a dried out digit shaped carrot. I pick up the tray and carry it to the trash. “This is for Bryn.” The carrots make a raucous as they spill into the bin. A few people glance my way, not for long. Too much eye contact and they’ll have to acknowledge me, speak me, console me. Laine tosses his carrot in from a few feet away. “Bryn for the win.” He holds pose a few seconds the way Steph Curry does when he hits a three. We return to the buffet where Frances is speaking to Bryn’s English teacher. She was an honor student so we never had classes together. “Bryn was smart,” I tell Laine because he’s the only one here who will listen. “She had a 4.0 for, like, ever.” I remember watching her study, wondering where all that information went. She was like a sponge, absorbing everything around her. Bryn immersed herself in life. She was always moving, always busy with practice of some kind, volunteering, studying, me. I was a project too. She tried like hell to get me involved, get me out of my shell. My spirit animal is a crab; shells are my thing. Laine and I move to the stage on the other side of the room. A bunch of unattended kids run back and forth squealing like baby pigs. Laine knows a couple of them. They jump on him as soon as he sits down and beg for piggyback rides. He obliges. Laine is a nice guy. I like Laine. That’s probably why I fucked him. “Are any of these yours?” It’s a joke, but you never know. “That one kind of has your eyes.” I point to the little girl clinging to his back. He gently lets her down and she runs off. “I volunteer at an after-school program at the rec. At first, it was just something to add to my college applications, but I liked it so I stayed.” “You really are a good guy, aren’t you?” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “I owe you an apology, for that day. For sucking you into my shit show. You didn’t deserve that.” His shoulder leans into mine. “No apology necessary. Honestly, I could tell you and Benny weren’t gonna make it.” Laine is Benny’s best friend, he knows all about Benny’s side chicks. Maybe that’s why he did it. I wonder if Bryn knew it too. 
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Traceless
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: I pull her into my arms on impulse, her small sound of pain as her eyebrow brushes against my shoulder making me let go. “Sorry.” “No. It’s okay. I like being close to you.” “You do?” “Yes.” We breathe into each other, mouths a few inches apart, her features blurring. An edge lives inside me, vibrant and real, relocating wherever it’s needed. It divides me, making me know the difference between baseline calm and danger. I want to live in baseline with her. I want to live with her. Not co-exist. Live. She turns, somber and achingly present. “We can’t keep doing this.” “Doing what?” “Not talking about this.” Instead of asking her what she means, I slide my hands to her waist, palms greedy at her curves. She’s taut and fit, with more muscle than I can see. My hands find it, memorize it. Want it. “Let’s talk, then.” “We’re breaking every rule.” Her eyes flit to the jammer bar on my wrist again. “Once you’ve mastered the rules, you know when you have to break them.” “We were never taught that.”
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