Kati Wilde

Kati Wilde – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:15:23 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Kati Wilde – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Only One Bed Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/only-one-bed-read-online-kati-wilde Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:15:23 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/only-one-bed-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)

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Two Enemies. Only One Bed.

Abbie Walker can’t wait to spend two weeks alone in a remote cabin. No overbearing mother. No nagging sister. Just one grumpy cat, a carload of snacks, and a heart full of cheer. It’s going to be the best holiday ever.

Then, in the middle of a blizzard, he shows up.

Not Santa, unfortunately. Instead an injured Reed Knowles stumbles into Abbie’s cabin, ruining her perfect holiday. Abbie has good reason to hate him—and Reed doesn’t like her any better.

But they’re stuck together. And there’s only one bed. So until the snow thaws, they’ve got to bite their tongues, keep each other warm…and maybe, during those cold winter nights, discover their worst enemy is the one person they’ve needed all along.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Abbie

“This is going to be the best Christmas ever,” I declare. My fingers, already aching after three hours of white-knuckling the steering wheel, tightly grip the wheel again when my chained tires jerk over a rut hidden beneath the snow.

Hot Biscuit Slim—never the jolliest cat to begin with—yowls mournfully from his carrier on the passenger seat. No doubt he’s lamenting the day I fell in love with his grumpy little face and wishing himself back at the rescue shelter.

“It is going to be the best Christmas ever. And we aren’t going to die,” I mutter the last part forcibly, as if speaking the words aloud will prevent our likely imminent death on this narrow forest road.

At least, I hope I’m on the road. Rapidly falling snow has completely obscured the ground. I lost cell reception two hours ago, my GPS gave up any pretense of knowing where to go when I turned off onto the first, slightly less narrow forest road a few miles back, and my sense of navigation is reduced to ’try not to hit any trees.’

When a low-hanging branch burdened with snow scrapes across the side of my car, I amend that to ‘try not to hit any tree trunks.’

Hot Biscuit Slim yowls again.

“Oh, hush! The weather app said it wasn’t supposed to begin snowing until tonight. This is not my fault!”

The stink that suddenly erupts from the cat says he heartily disagrees. Frantically I roll down my window—and I’m hit with a wave of sheer mountain bliss. My lungs fill with clean, crisp air. Only a degree below freezing, it isn’t bitterly cold but delightfully refreshing. Fat flakes drift downward, so soft and quiet and lovely that for an instant, the painful tension of hunching over my steering wheel while trying to navigate an increasingly treacherous road eases from my back and shoulders. Then a branch overhead releases a giant glop of wet snow that bombs the edge of my open window and explodes. By the time I brush the worst of it off my lap, icy water has soaked my crotch.

Hunching over the steering wheel again, I grind out from between gritted teeth, “Best. Christmas. Ever.”

Fifteen minutes later, Harris’s cabin pops out of nowhere. One moment I’m crawling along with trees to either side of me, the next moment a clearing opens up and the road ends. Squatting beneath the tall firs is the log cabin where I plan to spend the next two weeks. I’ll give myself a perfect Christmas, the kind I’ve always dreamed of—which ought to be easy, since I’ll be alone.

Almost alone.

My spiteful ball of claws and orange fur growls menacingly as I lug his carrier through the snow to the tiny covered porch. After fumbling with the key ring in my gloved fingers, I open the padlock that secures the door to the frame, then the deadbolt. Cold, stale air greets me when I push inside.

My heart gives a happy skip. Though the shuttered windows allow in barely any light, what I can see of the interior is exactly as Harris described. Aside from the closet-sized bathroom, the cabin is laid out as a single large room. A queen bed is shoved into the far corner with a chest of drawers at its foot. To my right, two leather armchairs face a stone fireplace. In the center of the cabin sits a round table with two wooden seats tucked underneath; a kitchenette and cabinets fill the wall to the left. Altogether, it isn’t much bigger than my first studio apartment was, so I feel right at home.

Despite the exhaustion of my harrowing drive, renewed energy surges through me. I pull out Harris’s instructions, then go around igniting the pilot lights for the fridge, stove, and water heater. I find a snow shovel in the shed behind the cabin, clear the short path to my car, and begin unloading my bags and boxes. My efforts are accompanied by the merry sounds of Hot Biscuit Slim yowling in the bathroom, where I’d locked him in with his litter. The last thing I need is for him to escape through the front door while I’m carrying everything in. Undoubtedly he’d scamper out into the forest—forcing me to chase after him, probably only to get lost and freeze to death. Meanwhile, he’d scamper back to the cabin, tear his way into my Christmas ham, and not miss me one bit.

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Advertisement The Harvest Bride – The Dead Lands Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/the-harvest-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Sun, 12 Nov 2023 07:05:03 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-harvest-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)

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After losing everything to a curse that struck the kingdom of Galoth, Sarya just wants the world to leave her alone. Yet when a demon begins hunting the people in the forest near her village, staying hidden isn’t an option. Neither is avoiding the warrior who helped saved all of Galoth. Bannin the Blowhard has never said a serious word in his life...and yet the warrior claims that he intends to marry Sarya.

Now she’s about to discover how serious Bannin can be when her happiness is at stake—and how completely devoted to her pleasure…

Please Although this novella’s plot and romance can stand alone, the story follows the events of The Midsummer Bride and the hero was introduced in that novel. This novella was originally written for an audiobook podcast audience in an abridged format. This ebook edition includes expanded chapters, including scenes from the hero’s point-of-view, an epilogue, and a map.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Sarya the Wary

The forest was suddenly far too quiet.

Sarya looked up from the cluster of mushrooms she’d been harvesting, clutching a sturdy knife in her right hand and holding a partially filled basket in her left. She wasn’t frightened. Wary, yes, because only a fool wouldn’t be a little wary while alone in the woods, and Sarya was no fool. But it was curiosity, not fear, that held her still, her head cocked as she listened.

Nothing.

That was…odd. Though many migratory birds had already abandoned Galoth for warmer climes, plenty remained through the winter. Yet none flitted through the trees or sang from the branches overhead. Even the constant humming of the insects had gone silent.

Yet there was something. At first, only a dull, rhythmic thud. But growing louder now. Closer. Footsteps? If so, whoever it was had a long, ponderous stride. And there was more—a continuous sliding and crackling. As if something was being dragged over the ground, disturbing the fallen leaves.

Sarya could imagine several reasons to drag something through the forest. She’d done it many times herself…though she’d never made the woods fall silent when she did.

Who would? Or perhaps the question ought to be—

What would?

The hairs prickled on the back of her neck. Though still not frightened, wariness overtook curiosity. The trunk of the enormous oak she’d been collecting mushrooms from stood between her and the forest path. She couldn’t see what was coming, but neither could it see her.

Though she couldn’t have said why, Sarya was certain she didn’t want it to see her. Perhaps it was merely the harmless old hermit, Fas Lergin, dragging home a deer after a hunt. Or that blasted Bannin the Blowhard, who was rumored to have returned from whatever new adventure had lured him away from Galoth. But her instincts were screaming that it wasn’t either of those men.

Sarya trusted her instincts. Her gut never led her astray.

Only her heart had ever done that.

Today, at least, that unruly organ was in agreement with her gut. Her heartbeat thumped faster as the footsteps neared. With her back pressed to the oak’s trunk and the knife gripped in her fist, Sarya listened to it pass, not even daring to breathe.

A steady creaking accompanied the steps. The kind of creaking she sometimes heard on windy nights, as the forest bent and swayed around her cottage. Or when she stepped on the loose stair leading up to her bedchamber. She supposed a wooden cart might make a similar sound, yet in the twenty-five years she’d been alive, Sarya had heard plenty of wooden carts, and not one of them had ever made goosebumps crawl over her skin.

By Anhera’s blessed jewels, what was it?

Her curiosity returned, razor sharp. She needed to know.

Yet she was still wary. Mindful of the orange and yellow leaves carpeting the forest floor—the woods were so quiet that even a slight crunch beneath her foot would seem like a shout—Sarya eased her way around the trunk, keeping the oak’s solid mass between her and…whatever it was. If it looked back, she’d still be hidden from sight.

Hidden, except in the brief moment when she peeked around the tree. Her gaze quickly swept down the trail it left behind.

The bloodied trail. And the human hand, dragging along the ground, attached to a body that was wrapped up in… No, not just wrapped up. Impaled. Pierced.

By some…horrible…thing.

Lungs squeezing tight, Sarya jerked her head back, concealing herself again. Hands shaking. Breath trembling.

Now she was afraid.

But what had she seen? She didn’t know. Except that it hadn’t been human, though it walked upright like one.

Sarya knew who that hand belonged to, though. Fas Lergin, the old hermit. Who’d never hurt anyone.

Anger began to burn through her fear. There was no saving the old man. Yet the thing that had killed him…likely couldn’t be stopped by this small blade. She glanced down at her knife. Oh, why hadn’t she brought her sword? Or an axe? Anything more substantial than this little prick of a weapon.

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Advertisement The Midsummer Bride – The Dead Lands Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/the-midsummer-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Wed, 16 Aug 2023 21:45:11 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-midsummer-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)

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A Barbarian Who Must Lie
When a prideful queen comes to his prison cell with an unbelievable proposal of marriage, Warrick of the Dead Lands is quick to accept … but not merely to secure his freedom. Because he recognizes the powerful jewels the queen wears — jewels pilfered from the temple of a goddess, who unleashed her wrath upon a kingdom. His plan? Pretend to go along with Queen Elina until he can steal the jewels back, then use them to lift the goddess’s curse.

Except the queen isn’t who Warrick assumes she is at first glance, and his deception might cost him everything…

A Queen Who Must Die

Betrayed by everyone she’s ever loved, trusting no one, Elina has spent years searching for the warrior prophesied to overthrow the sorcerer who stole her throne … and Warrick is the one warrior she’s found whose description matches the prophecy. She doesn’t want to marry a barbarian, but she’s running out of time — the sickness ravaging her body means she’ll be dead long before she sees home. Only the enchanted jewels she wears give her the strength to continue on … and her new husband’s touch offers the only pleasure she’s ever known.

But after a life spent running from those who betrayed her, Elina doesn’t know whether to trust Warrick with her kingdom — or her heart…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

A Barbarian Who Must Lie

When a prideful queen comes to his prison cell with an unbelievable proposal of marriage, Warrick of the Dead Lands is quick to accept … but not merely to secure his freedom. Because he recognizes the powerful jewels the queen wears — jewels pilfered from the temple of a goddess, who unleashed her wrath upon a kingdom. His plan? Pretend to go along with Queen Elina until he can steal the jewels back, then use them to lift the goddess’s curse.

Except the queen isn’t who Warrick assumes she is at first glance, and his deception might cost him everything…

A Queen Who Must Die

Betrayed by everyone she’s ever loved, trusting no one, Elina has spent years searching for the warrior prophesied to overthrow the sorcerer who stole her throne … and Warrick is the one warrior she’s found whose description matches the prophecy. She doesn’t want to marry a barbarian, but she’s running out of time — the sickness ravaging her body means she’ll be dead long before she sees home. Only the enchanted jewels she wears give her the strength to continue on … and her new husband’s touch offers the only pleasure she’s ever known.

But after a life spent running from those who betrayed her, Elina doesn't know whether to trust Warrick with her kingdom … or her heart.

The Midsummer Bride is part of the Dead Lands series but can completely stand alone. For content warnings: swipe or scroll back to the copyright page.

(tap to enlarge)

Elina the Cursed

Here we are again, weaving tales of barbarians and queens, picking up a thread spoken of long ago during a midwinter celebration. But the seasons have turned—so quickly, too quickly—and midsummer is finally here. In the days between, we have told stories of a kind queen, an ironskin queen, a champion queen, and a stonehearted queen.

Now comes a dying queen.

The time is anotherwhen, a date unknown but on the cusp of a curse’s end. The place is anotherwhere, a world unnamed but too near our queen’s destined grave. And this story begins, as many stories do, when all hope is nearly gone—

But, no. No time do we have for another rambling start! Quickly, let us begin. For we know that love is the most powerful of all true magics…but what use is love if she is dead? Hurry now, turn the page.

It might already be too late.

Torrath

“The queen’s face is cracking,” said Chardryn after bustling into the royal tent and getting her first look at Elina in her finery. The old nurse clucked her tongue and continued, “Not even the promise of freedom will tempt an imprisoned barbarian to follow her if that is the visage he lays eyes upon.”

Dara’s narrow shoulders hunched slightly, but her steady strokes never faltered as she brushed gold paint onto Elina’s chin.

The maid did not come to her own defense. So Elina did.

“The mask is too old, Chardryn.” So thick and heavy as it dried that Elina dared not make more than the smallest movement of her lips to speak. “It was but a lump of paste in the bottom of the jar when Dara began. She salvaged what she could with the oils at hand.”

The nurse nodded in resigned understanding. “Those at hand are not as refined as Aleron oils, I suppose.”

Aleron. A pang of longing struck Elina’s heart, as it did every time someone spoke the name of her kingdom. It had been far too many years since she’d left home. Since she’d fled from home, in truth—pursued by assassins sent by Soren, her sorcerer of an uncle.

“Well, no use fretting over what we can’t change.” Brusquely Chardryn set down her apothecary chest on the end of Elina’s curtained bed. She opened the lid and fished out an assortment of herbs and powders. “No more of the queen’s face can be procured until—”

“—we all return home,” Dara finished with a wistful sigh. Abruptly her dark eyes widened and shot to Elina’s. “Forgive me, Your Highness! I didn’t mean to speak of—”

With her naked fingers, Elina gently touched the wrist that hovered near her cheek, the steady brushstrokes interrupted by the maid’s dismay. “You’ve said nothing to forgive. The illness my uncle cursed me with will probably kill me before I return home. This we all know, and we need not pretend otherwise. But you will return, Dara. You will see your family again.” Pulling back her hand, Elina smiled—though the stiffness of the paint only allowed a faint curve of her mouth. “Soon, if this barbarian is the warrior we seek.”

If the barbarian was not, Elina might take him anyway. She had no more time to search for the warrior spoken of in the witch’s prophecy. Better to return to Aleron with any warrior at her side than die far from home, having never attempted to remove her uncle from his ill-begotten throne or free her people from his tyrannical rule.

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Advertisement Sheriff’s Bad Bear – Wolfkin & Berserkers Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/sheriffs-bad-bear-wolfkin-berserkers-read-online-kati-wilde Fri, 03 Feb 2023 20:31:47 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/sheriffs-bad-bear-wolfkin-berserkers-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)

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He’s done waiting, so his mate is about to discover that his bed is just right…

A werebear is just a cute name for what Brandon Ranger really is — a berserker. Beneath his skin lies a warrior driven by pure, brutal emotion. Which was fine when he was at war.

But at home, nothing’s so easy. Especially not when prickly sheriff’s deputy Samantha Green just wants to be friends. Because a berserker’s emotions never sit quiet—and when Brandon’s need comes roaring to the surface, there’s only one way to save her:
Run.

So he did.

A year later, he’s back and his berserker’s under control. Except it’s too late. Because if Brandon wanted to win her heart…running is the worst thing he could have done.

Good thing a berserker never gives up.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

SAMANTHA

Nine months ago, if a giant grizzly bear had meandered its way across my back field and into my barn just before midnight, my reaction then would probably have been a whole lot different than it is now.

For one, I wouldn’t have remained sitting on this old bench swing, with my boots propped atop the wooden railing on the back porch. I probably wouldn’t have run screaming into the house—or I like to think that I wouldn’t have—but I’d have made sure my feet were flat on the ground so that I could run.

Two, I’d have stopped dicking around with Animal Crossing on my phone and started taking a video. Because a bear coming up from the river and onto my farm would have made a hell of a story, but not a single person I know would have believed me without evidence. There are bears around in this part of Oregon. Black bears only, though. There sure aren’t any giant fucking grizzly bears.

Three, seeing the bear wouldn’t have started a hot little ache down low. Wouldn’t have made me bite my lip as I watched him. Wouldn’t have made me so damn aware of every inch of my skin.

At least, I don’t think so. After all, I’ve always thought Belle got a shitty deal when her animated Beast turned back into a prince. So, I don’t know. It’s hard to say how I’d have felt when a bear crossed my path—except that I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been even a bit horny for him.

That was before the whole world went sideways, though. Before my sister and I went on a vacation into the Colorado mountains last winter, where a werewolf attacked Alicia under a full moon and infected her with the same curse. Before Travis Ranger showed up here in town, already in love with Alicia, and announced that Hey, I’m a werewolf, too, and I can help you control your beast. Then he tacked on a Here’s my brother, Brandon, who’s a berserker. Which is just a fancy term for a raging warrior in a grizzly bear suit.

Or, whenever Brandon feels like it—just a grizzly bear. One who’s more likely to roll around in a field of wildflowers and laze in the afternoon sun scratching his furry belly than bust into raging warrior mode.

Also more likely to irritate the hell out of me…then make me laugh until I cry.

Bear or not, Brandon’s a good friend to have.

Which is why I put away that tingly pussy nonsense before he comes out of the barn. Or I try to. Because he strips off his clothes in there before shapeshifting into a bear and ambling around. Then he puts them back on before coming into the house.

Except he doesn’t put them all on in the barn. Nuh-uh. Instead he strides out into the moonlight, six feet seven inches of solid, heavy flesh in nothing but a pair of low slung jeans and with his shirt dangling from his hand. Like he got distracted in the middle of putting clothes on and just walked out like that. Or he’s in a hurry, so he decided to finish dressing as he went.

But one thing I know about Brandon: he’s never in a hurry. So this whole show, with the Oops, I guess Samantha just got an eyeful of my massive hairy chest and shoulders broad enough to support a bulldozer, not to mention the happy trail that runs straight down to the bulge behind my zipper that suggests what’s behind there will grow into a damn hefty piece of equipment—it’s no mistake. Brandon wants me to see him.

Then he wants to get naked and nasty with me. If it wouldn’t mean saying bye-bye to our friendship, I’d want it, too.

A fuck just isn’t worth it, though. Even a really amazing fuck. So I do my best to put that tingly shit away.

Halfway across the back yard, Brandon finally drags his shirt on over his head. His brown hair is cut military-short even though he’s been out of the service for a few months. I’m not sure what he’s doing next. He’ll get around to figuring it out in his own sweet time, I guess. For now, he’s living here at the farmhouse with me—an arrangement that came about when Ranger came down from Alaska with Brandon tagging along…mostly to bug the fuck out of Ranger, he told me. But when they found Alicia suffering from her curse, Ranger promptly moved in. Since Brandon was here, we invited him to stay, too. And it worked out for everyone, because with Ranger and Brandon living with us, for the first time Alicia began to see herself as something other than a monster. Ranger and Brandon were just people. People who could pop out claws and teeth and superpowers, true—but experiencing everyday life with them showed Alicia that the beast inside her was nothing to fear.

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Advertisement The Stoneheart Bride – The Dead Lands Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/the-stoneheart-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Thu, 10 Nov 2022 23:01:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-stoneheart-bride-the-dead-lands-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal, Romance Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)

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Flora doesn’t know which is worse: being abducted by ogres who intend to eat her, or being saved by the barbarian warrior who’d coldly rejected her hand in marriage. Brom the Stonehearted had crushed Flora’s every hope of a future where she was valued for herself, and dreams of a life where she was more than her uncle’s political pawn.

But as they ride toward home, Flora discovers that a warrior raised in the barren wilds of the Dead Lands recognizes value far beyond power and gold—and that his particular kind of courtship could never be cold…

This short fantasy romance is part of the Dead Lands series but completely stands alone. The audiobook will soon be available on the Read Me Romance podcast.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Five days ago, when Brom the Stonehearted had rejected Flora’s hand in marriage, the agony that had ripped through her chest made her wonder if a broken heart was truly shredded from within. But five days ago, Flora hadn’t guessed that she would soon know the answer.

Well, she wouldn’t know it, because she would be dead. But the two ogres who’d abducted Flora would see whether her heart was literally a broken mess when they tore her body apart and devoured her flesh.

Which would likely happen as soon as they finished arguing over who got the juiciest bits.

“I claim her plump haunch,” one of the hideous giants declared, while smacking his slimy lips and tossing an armload of fallen boughs onto their fire.

The other scoffed as he used his monstrous stone axe to hack at the tree limb that would become Flora’s roasting spit. “What of it? She has two haunches. I’ll take the second.”

“Have you forgotten our purpose, fool?” the first ogre spat through jagged teeth. “Upon the left haunch is the birthmark that will prove who she was to those who find the remains.”

“Then leave her head and the ring with the royal crest. They will know the jewel and her face.”

“Our orders are to also leave the marked haunch.”

“We might say that we did leave it, but that an animal of the forest must have carried it off,” said the second ogre with a sly, wet grin.

Lying on her side at the edge of the small clearing, Flora tried not to listen. Truly she did. She was already terrified, and further panic wouldn’t help her escape during the short time that the ogres were preoccupied with building the fire. The horror of the day had already taken its toll—first when the guards in her hunting party had been slaughtered, then when she’d been bound, gagged, and tossed over the back of her horse, followed by endless hours of travel to the border of her uncle’s kingdom. If she gave into fear now, she’d never free herself from the ropes binding her hands and feet.

Yet until Flora heard the ogres speaking, she’d thought they’d only taken her along as a snack. She hadn’t realized they had a more heinous purpose.

They meant to start a war. And their actions today would start it. When Flora’s uncle discovered her remains, and with the full support of the kingdom, he’d march his army into the mountainous territory held by the ogre overlord…where her uncle might eventually be victorious, but not before thousands of his soldiers were killed in those battles.

Flora could not let her life be the cause of so much death.

Steely resolve steadied her trembling fingers, and Flora blindly searched the ground behind her bound hands for a sharp stone or a pointed stick—anything that she might use to free herself.

Nothing but dirt and leaves.

Panic began to take hold again when the ogres finished their preparations at the roasting fire. Flora’s heart stuttered as they turned in her direction. Their greedy eyes roamed hungrily over her nude form, and terror wormed through her muscles like a parasite, leeching her strength—but not her resolve. Frantically she squirmed backward through the dirt, not giving up even as the brutes laughed at her futile attempts to get away.

“Even if your feet were free, human, you could never outrun us.” The first ogre started toward her, unsheathing the blade that, earlier in the day, had butchered Flora’s guards. “But fear will season your meat, so a chase would make our feast all the more deli—”

Abruptly he stopped—mid-word, mid-step, mid-thunk—though Flora in her desperation to escape hardly knew whence that heavy, fleshy thunk had come.

That is, until the ogre collapsed onto the ground with an axe protruding from the back of his skull.

Shock held her immobile for the briefest moment. Had the second ogre betrayed the first, so that he could gorge on her meat without sharing even a haunch? But when her eyes darted to him, the ogre still standing did not look to Flora at all. Instead he held his giant axe at ready as his foul gaze searched the utter dark of the nighttime forest.

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Advertisement Evil Twin – Villains in Love Read Online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/evil-twin-villains-in-love-read-online-kati-wilde Sun, 08 Aug 2021 21:52:26 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/evil-twin-villains-in-love-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Romance, Virgin Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Evil Twin - Villains in Love
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Kati Wilde
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B0912S1CL6
Book Information:
Bane should have been king… But he was born four minutes too late. Though it was Bane who’d led armies to victory against the scourge of the undying, now he must watch as his undeserving twin claims yet another throne through marriage to a princess of a neighboring kingdom. A kingdom that Bane had saved. That throne should be his. So he’ll take it. All Bane must do is deceive his twin’s innocent bride. He'll trick her into his bed, and once he’s planted his seed, the bride—and her kingdom—will be his. With such a prize in hand, he won’t care if she ever forgives him for his deception. It hardly matters if she does, because his evil plan doesn't include falling in love. But his bride has a few plans of her own... Want to read other stories featuring a villainous (but not too villainous) character? Look for Bad Girl by Ella Goode (ASIN B0917YZ483) and Bad Guy by Ruby Dixon (ASIN B0916J8RVH), both available now!
Books by Author:	Kati Wilde

Content Warning

Hi! If you’ve read the description of the book, then you know this story features a twin deceiving a sexual partner about their true identity, which means consent is dubious at best. Some of us can enjoy fiction where the main characters do things that, in real life, would deserve a trip to prison — and some of us can’t. Only you know how well you’ll tolerate romances featuring that kind of scenario, so here’s the heads-up that this story does. In addition, there are:

references to war and battle

violence against fantasy monsters that were once people

emotionally abusive family dynamics, including mentions of forcing a character into an environment where a magical, narcotic-like effect dampened her mental faculties.

1

Bane

On her deathbed, Bane’s mother had made him swear an oath never to kill his twin. But if the good queen had lived to see the waste of air that Tamas had become, she might have let Bane rescind his vow. She might have even put the assassin’s dagger into his hand and bade him to do the job well.

Alas, it was not to be.

Bane had been but five years old when he made that vow. Over the twenty-five years that followed, each morning Bane awoke and hoped this would be the day that his twin would die.

But that was also not to be. At fifteen, a fall from his horse during a hunt broke Tamas’s arm, not his neck. Though blue fever and the wheezing cough swept through the palace, his brother survived every plague. None of his mistresses ever stabbed him, or smothered him with a pillow, or gave to him a lethal pox. He’d not even the courtesy to choke to death on a grape, as their royal father had when they were twenty years of age—and although grapes were banned from the king’s table from that day forward, enough wine flowed into Tamas’s cup that he ought to have at least tumbled down a stairwell or fallen out a tower window. Yet he never did. And so each night, Bane went to bed disappointed.

But he would not this night.

This night, Bane would claim a throne. But he would keep his vow, and he wouldn’t take his brother’s crown.

Instead he’d take his brother’s bride.

A mere four minutes had determined the early course of Bane’s life—four minutes that had seen him arrive second-born from his mother’s womb and denied him a kingdom.

A mere four seconds determined the rest of his life, for that was all the time Bane needed to devise his plan. Those four seconds took place at supper, in the lull between the soup course and the fish, and immediately after Queen Aveline of Phaira said to him, “Mere words could never express how thankful we are to your brother for sending Gocea’s warriors to defend our people against the undying scourge. I trust that giving to him our brightest jewel will come nearer to conveying the depth of our gratitude, even as it unites our kingdoms.”

Their brightest jewel? Bane’s gaze followed the queen’s across the table. Sitting at Tamas’s right hand was a young woman with luminous brown skin. Diamond hairpins secured black curls in an elaborate style. A white silk gown clung to ample curves.

Their daughter, Sapphira. The heir to the Phairan throne.

Resentment spewed through Bane’s blood, hot and bitter. When he’d been summoned away from his warriors’ training camp to attend this royal banquet, he’d assumed the only purpose was to celebrate the victory over the scourge. But they also clearly meant to wed Sapphira to Tamas…and in time, his brother would rule over two kingdoms.

Because of gratitude.

Yet it hadn’t been Tamas who’d sent Gocea’s army to Phaira. No, his twin brother had petulantly refused to help their neighbors. No matter how Bane had argued with him—because every Phairan that was transformed into an undying beast would only strengthen the scourge’s numbers and multiply the threat against Gocea—his brother hadn’t relented, whining that his kingdom would be undefended if he sent his army outside Gocea’s borders.

Bane had led the warriors into Phaira, anyway. He had crushed the scourge. He had saved that kingdom.

Yet the Phairan king and queen were giving their daughter to his spineless shitbag of a brother. And by doing so, they were giving Tamas that kingdom, too.

So Bane would leave them no choice but to give the princess to him, instead.

It would be easy enough. Fuck her. Plant his seed. Tamas wouldn’t want her if Bane had her first—and his twin wouldn’t risk claiming a child that might not be his. Not even for a kingdom. But then, his brother was a vain, worthless parasite.

In that respect, Tamas and Sapphira seemed well matched.

Bane watched her now, sizing her up as he would a fortress that he wanted to breach. His first thought upon meeting the princess was that she appeared pretty and lively but also pampered and insipid. Nothing he saw at dinner overturned that impression.

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Advertisement Losing It All – Hellfire Riders MC Read online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/losing-it-all-hellfire-riders-mc-read-online-kati-wilde Fri, 23 Aug 2019 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/losing-it-all-hellfire-riders-mc-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Losing It All - Hellfire Riders MC
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Kati Wilde
Language:	English
Book Information:
The Hellfire Riders' enforcer, Stone Wall, has just three weaknesses. Dogs. Little kids. Damsels in distress. But this time, the damsel isn't in distress. She's bait, luring him in with haunted eyes and a sad smile. And Stone should have known better, but he couldn't resist those soft, sweet lips. One kiss put him in a cage, fighting for his life. Fighting not to let winning rip his soul apart...and losing that fight. So he played the hero. That's over with. The moment he's free, that damsel in distress is going to give him his pound of flesh. Kiss by kiss. Lick by lick. It's payback time.
Books by Author:	Kati Wilde

I

The Cage

1

Every night, after I’m imprisoned in my stall, the sound I dread most is the soft clunk of the electronic lock releasing. Fear of an unlocked door might seem stupid, considering that I want nothing more than to escape this nightmare that I’m trapped in. But since I’m not free yet, the only place I feel safe is behind that steel-reinforced door—until six a.m., when the door opens and my daily duties begin.

So when the clunk wakes me just after midnight, terror instantly freezes me in place, lying on my side and with my back to the door. Two months ago, that emotion might have been hope instead of terror. Even a month ago, my first thought might have been The FBI finally found us! or Matt took the guards by surprise and he’s busting us out of here.

But after three months in this hellhole, hope is hard to hold onto. So instead I lie motionless in bed and think that one of the guards must have gotten tired of jacking off in the control booth and decided to help himself to some forbidden pussy. Now I’ll have to let him rape me or I’ll have to fight him off, and both options are a death sentence.

Because I’ve only got a few rules to follow. Number one is, “Do as you’re told.” Number two is, “Keep your cherry”—at least until Papa decides to give it away.

No one ever explicitly said that I can’t keep a scalpel under my pillow, but I don’t have to be told that it’s an unspoken rule. Having a weapon—especially one that I stole from a locked cabinet in the medical room—will get me in trouble. And around here, ‘trouble’ doesn’t merit a hand-slapping. It means a bullet to the head. But only after I’ve been passed around to all the guards and other prisoners. So what’s worse—one rape, or a few dozen rapes followed by death?

I know what’s worse. But as footsteps stealthily approach my narrow bunk, I pretend to sleep…and my right hand creeps beneath my pillow.

My fingers curl around the scalpel’s handle just as an urgent whisper hisses through the dark.

“Cherry, are you awake? Did Lissa get locked in here with you?”

It’s Bravo. One of the guards. And he’s looking for Lissa?

My mind races with the implications of that until he grips my shoulder and gives me a hard shake. “Cherry!”

I let go of the scalpel and simulate waking up, blinking heavily, looking at him in confusion. In the dark, the expression on Bravo’s face is hard to make out, but the suppressed panic in his tone is easy to hear.

“Have you seen Lissa?”

“Not since she went into her stall at ten,” I tell him in a drowsy voice, as if still not fully awake.

“She went in there before it was locked? You’re sure?”

“Yes.” And I am. Every night it’s the same. Her quarters are across from mine and, just before the lights go out, we wish each other goodnight through the small windows in our doors. “Why?”

Bravo doesn’t answer. Instead he mutters a curse and hightails it out of my room. The door automatically locks behind him.

I sit up, my body thrumming with tension, my heart racing. Lissa’s gone. And Bravo’s panicking because he’s the one who unlocked her stall.

I know all about their hookups. The guards aren’t supposed to touch either of us, but Lissa isn’t forbidden for the same reason that I am. My virginity will be a prize to some lucky fighter in the stable—if any of them are ever lucky enough to make it through ten bouts in the Cage. But Lissa is the sexual bait they use to abduct those fighters in the first place, so the guards aren’t interested in protecting her chastity. And when Papa decides that one of the fighters or a guard deserves a reward, she’s the one to give it. Sometimes a blow job, sometimes more. But unless it’s been sanctioned by Papa, the guards aren’t supposed to fool around with her—because the guard in charge, Victor, runs a strict operation and he claims pussy is a dangerous distraction.

Victor’s not wrong. Distracting a guard is exactly why Lissa began flirting with Bravo. He’s younger than the others—not a boy, because none of the guards are—but probably not much older than me. Maybe around twenty-five or so.

My brother, Matt, thinks the guards are probably a local militia that turned mercenary. He believes that some of them—like Victor—were actually in the military at one point. But the others either washed out of basic training and have something to prove, or they just like to strut around and play soldier. I’m not sure which of those Bravo is, because they’re careful not to tell us any personal information, but he has the ‘strutting around’ part down pat. He’s always swinging his dick around, the kind of guy who thinks nailing a chick makes him more of a man and who can’t bear anyone questioning his masculinity. So all Lissa had to do was coo at him and say that she loved the size of his cock, and Bravo was more than willing to risk unlocking her door so she could slip out and meet up with him.

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Advertisement Teacher’s Pet Wolf Read online Kati Wilde http://www.books2020.com/teachers-pet-wolf-read-online-kati-wilde Mon, 14 May 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/teachers-pet-wolf-read-online-kati-wilde Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Authors: Kati Wilde Advertisement

Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >45

Read Online Books/Novels:	Teacher's Pet Wolf
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Kati Wilde
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07VV9HKF6
Book Information:
This sexy alpha intends to teach his mate a few lessons about local wildlife…  Alicia Simmons rarely lets anyone get too close. So crushing on a hot wildlife expert via videochats in her classroom is completely safe. The long-distance flirtation means no expectations—and no expectations means no disappointment…or hurt. And when Ranger tells her he’s visiting her neck of the woods, spending a few days—and nights—with him doesn’t sound too dangerous, either. Sure, when the fling is over, she’ll have to pick up the pieces of her heart. But at least he’ll be safe from the beast inside her.  Except Travis Ranger isn’t coming for a fling. He’s coming for Alicia. And he’s got a lot to show the shy science teacher…starting with a lesson about what happens when a wolf finally gets his claws on the woman he’s waited far too long to claim. And no matter how hard she tries to push him away, he’s never going to let her go.  Because Alicia thinks she’s a beast? His shy little teacher hasn’t seen anything yet....
Books by Author:	Kati Wilde Books

1

Alicia

“Can we quit now?” Maria’s voice breaks through the quiet in my empty classroom as I’m adding up the points on a chemistry quiz. “Give me permission to quit now. Or kill me. I don’t care anymore. I just want this misery to end. Are you even listening to me, Alicia? Because you look like you’re ignoring me in this time of desperate need. Are you grading something important there? Am I messing up your count? Am I? Five, seven, eight, two, three thousand and twenty-four…”

Laughing, I write the score at the top of the sheet and glance up. Maria’s leaning back against the frame of my classroom’s open door, forking something green and leafy out of a huge Tupperware container, and looking gloriously frazzled—dress shirt untucked from her pencil skirt, curling brown tendrils falling out of her French braid, cat-eye glasses perched at the tip of her nose as if pushing them into place will take more strength than she has left.

“Only three more days,” I remind her.

“Three more days of classes,” she emphasizes. “But another week for us. So you know what unfresh hell will continue?”

“Lauren reheating fish in the microwave?”

I make it sound like a question, but it’s not a guess. Though the teacher’s lounge is on the opposite side of the building, I can smell the fish from here. And I’ve been trying to ignore it. Trying so hard, though my stomach keeps rumbling and my mouth keeps salivating. Because the smell doesn’t nauseate me. Not like it did only six months ago. Instead it just makes me hungry.

But everything makes me hungry.

“Yessss,” Maria hisses, then shoots a furtive glance around to make certain no students hear her continue, “Effing Lauren. I dashed to the fridge but my shirt still picked up that stink. Which means the rest of my afternoon is going to be spent trying to teach seventh grade boys who think they’re real damn clever with their fish jokes.”

Seventh grade girls are usually worse. More vicious. They’re just sneakier with the jokes, a little quieter. I hear them, anyway.

I shake my head in sympathy. “Effing Lauren.”

“And—and—as if that wasn’t enough bullshit today”—she takes a huge bite of salad and then chews while saying—“Ava’s mother wants to talk after school today about the grade she earned on her last essay. On the phone.”

“Which Ava?”

“Chase-Carroll,” she says without missing a chew, crunching what smells like sunflower seeds and kale. “On the phone. What’s wrong with e-mail? How is anyone of our generation choosing a phone call over e-mail? Even face-to-face is better than a phone call—and I hate people. So if I’d rather be face-to-face? You know it’s bad.”

By this time of year, every teacher I know hates people. The kids are still okay, but people? Ugh.

Except for Maria. I still like her well enough. And since she seems to be settling in to eat her lunch against my door frame, I pull a thick roast beef sandwich out of my desk drawer—forcing myself to unwrap it slowly, breathing through my mouth, already dreaming of sinking my teeth into bread and meat. “Are we the same generation as Ava’s mom?”

I’m not old enough to have a thirteen-year-old girl. Well, biologically I am. But only if I popped out a baby in middle school.

Which, knock on wood, I haven’t seen happen to any girl in this middle school. But this is only my third year of teaching, so it’s early days yet.

“I think so? If we aren’t, her mom looks real damn good for someone who’s of voluntarily-talks-on-the-phone age.” Maria scrapes up another bite and contemplates the forkful of kale, adding morosely, “This is the cruel and unusual punishment part of our job.”

“Talking on the phone or that salad?”

“Ha ha.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You probably like phone calls, considering that you’ve got a direct line to Ranger Ranger.”

My chest hollows out as my heart swoops into my throat, because simply hearing Ranger’s name creates the most wonderful, painful, achingly sweet combination of emotions inside me. “Those are video calls. Not phone calls.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s face-to-face.” When it wasn’t face-to-classroom, with Ranger giving lessons to my biology students from his remote location in the Arctic Circle. “You said yourself it’s different.”

She waves that off. “Is he calling in today?—it’s always Friday, right? Or did you guys already wrap up for the summer?”

My stomach tightens. “Today’s the last day.”

“Aw. Well, I’ll tell you what you should do as soon as vacation starts: fly up to Alaska, hike to whatever mountain he’s on, and then be all, ‘Oh, Ranger Ranger!’” she exclaims in a breathy voice, fluttering her lashes. “‘I’m so lost, and my vagina’s so rusty. Can you save me?’”

“Rusty? I really hope that’s a reference to my hair color.” Not that calling the auburn curls down there ‘rusty’ is much better, but still. My vagina’s not rusty.

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Evil Twin - Villains in Love

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B07VV9HKF6

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