Kristen Ashley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Kristen Ashley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:43 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Kristen Ashley – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 The Woman From Nowhere (Misted Pines #5) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/the-woman-from-nowhere-misted-pines-5-read-online-kristen-ashley Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:43 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-woman-from-nowhere-misted-pines-5-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Misted Pines Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)

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After a heartbreaking betrayal, Mabel Adams reinvents herself for the fourth time. Regardless of the alarming reputation of the deceptively sleepy town of Misted Pines, she decides to move all the way across the country to start yet again.

Mabel has a one-night stand with a mountain man who rocks her world in bed but doesn't tell her his name.

The next day, after receiving a threatening note from her neighbors, she discovers she's living next to an extremist cult where the women go in and are never seen again.

After serving, former Navy SEAL Hutch Hutchison is living a peaceful life on his patch in the mountains outside Misted Pines. He's been burned so many times by women, he's happy to train his guard dogs, play his guitar, live remote, and most of all, quiet.

Until he hooks up with a beautiful woman who lives just down the way. And then he discovers she's been threatened by the cult next door.

Hutch's protective instinct sparks, and he decides his next mission is to keep Mabel safe at all costs.

But there's something even hinkier about that cult than Hutch or local law enforcement expect.

As Hutch executes the riskiest mission of his life—keeping Mabel safe at the same time keeping both of their hearts intact—Hutch and the Sheriff's Department try to unravel the mystery of The Lion and The Lamb before it's too late.

Because Mabel is in their crosshairs.

And Hutch is not about to allow her to disappear

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

ONE

“Pink Moon”

Mabel

The bar probably had the capacity to fit twenty-five people.

It was the closest thing to an actual hole-in-the-wall that I’d ever seen.

Outside, it looked like a big shack.

Inside was no different.

There was no stone, brick or drywall to be seen. It was all rough wood, even the planks on the floor.

There were three taps for beer, one for cider, and a single shelf behind the bar displaying bottles of alcohol, the closest thing they had to top shelf being Jack Daniels Old No. 7.

Providing heat on this chilly night were a small, cast-iron fireplace in a back corner, walls that kept the wind out (just barely) and bodies.

There were four bar stools in front of the short bar, an entry space that was big enough to allow a few people to stand, four tables with four chairs each (yes, all wood), two-by-twos along the walls with an aisle between, which led up to a miniscule stage mostly taken up with two humungous speakers that were absolutely not needed in this small space.

There was a threadbare rug covering the tiny stage, so big it dipped off the sides, along with a stool.

On which, currently, a man was sitting with his guitar perched on his knee, singing into a microphone.

As far as I could tell, every slow, mellow, bittersweet song he sang was original.

Further to that, he had a silken, smooth baritone voice, and long, graceful musician’s fingers on strong, veined man’s hands.

If you had no imagination and a limited vocabulary, you’d call him blond.

But the rich complexity of his thick, overlong hair, to me, didn’t know whether to be blond, brown or auburn, could not be described by one simple word.

Nor could anything about him.

Well, I guessed one thing could.

He was tall. I could tell that even if I hadn’t seen him standing, considering how long his broad torso was even bent over that guitar, and the length of his meaty thighs and shins.

And he was muscular.

But it wasn’t lean muscle. Nor was it bulky. However, you couldn’t miss the man packed some power.

He had some russet-brown scruff on his cheeks, jaw and chin. It was full, not patchy, but it also wasn’t a beard.

He had a chiseled jaw, sun lines radiating from his dark-brown eyes, and high cheekbones.

He was beautiful.

Simply beautiful.

Robert Redford as Jeremiah Johnson beautiful (obviously without the true blond hair and bushy beard).

And perhaps part of that was why the house was packed, and not just that they came to listen to the moody, broody, sublime music he was playing.

Not that it could get too packed out here in the middle of nowhere, but it was standing room only.

And I knew the hulking lumberjack of a bartender didn’t tend to this many people every night.

Truth, this place seemed like it existed just to be a local gathering hole for those of us who lived up in the mountains on the west side of Misted Pines—a good twenty-minute haul just to get groceries and seriously sparsely populated.

But no one would want to drive that drive into town to have a few drinks and commune.

Though that hulking lumberjack wanted his neighbors safe and sound, and he didn’t make any bones about it. I knew this because there was a sign on the shelf with the liquor that said, I’ll serve you as much as you want, but I’ll also take your fucking keys.

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Advertisement Perfect In Every Way (Manors and Mysteries #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/perfect-in-every-way-manors-and-mysteries-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:54 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/perfect-in-every-way-manors-and-mysteries-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Manors and Mysteries Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)

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Historical fiction writer, Vivienne Dupree, is hoping to unravel the mystery of her WWII soldier, great-grandfather’s doomed love affair with the lovely Lady Harmony. A woman he met convalescing at the sweeping English country estate, The Downs.

Vivienne jumps at the invitation to spend time at this magnificent property, doing so with unfettered access to family papers.

What she doesn’t expect is to come face-to-face—and immediately go head-to-head—with Battle Talyn, the ludicrously handsome, imposing, ridiculously arrogant Duke of Burleigh.

From the start, Vivi and Battle match wits, but it doesn’t take long for Vivi to realize something is amiss at The Downs. She dives into her research to figure it out, at the same time Battle launches a campaign that Vivi doesn’t quite understand.

The game is on, and a mystery is afoot.

What kept the doomed lovers apart all those years ago? What’s happening in the ballroom? Is there a curse on The Downs?

And what does all of this have to do with Battle and Vivi?

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

CHAPTER 1

THE DOWNS

I idled outside the ornate, twenty-foot-high gates, not thinking about the grand adventure that, for months, I’d been so excited to embark on, I could barely stand myself.

Instead, I was concentrating on the sudden bizarre feeling I had, which I’d never felt before.

A feeling that assaulted me (and that violent of a word was an apropos descriptor) the second I saw those gates.

It was a feeling so strong, I was idling in the road in front of the gates of a drive I was supposed to be turning into, a drive on a fortunately not very busy road, and yet for some reason, I was unable to turn in.

I didn’t understand what I was feeling. It was, in my cadre of as yet experienced emotions, undefined.

I was exhilarated, yet alarmed.

Excited, yet terrified.

It was kind of like the sensation you get before you go into a haunted house.

You know it’s going to be fun, but even so, you’re facing the unexpected.

What you further know is, what’s about to happen will be completely out of your control.

But in order to face that unexpected—though what you could expect was that you were going to have the pants frightened off you—you had to let go, put one foot in front of the other, trust, and know things are going to scare you, but in the end, you’ll be laughing.

It took some effort to pocket this strange emotion so I could peer down the lane beyond the gates.

The lane was shaded with beautiful old trees and carpeted with vibrant green lawns.

It was then, out of nowhere, although this time predictably, I felt a strong pang of melancholy.

I did this even though I’d never met him. He was gone before I was alive.

Even so, I knew my great-grandfather had seen these gates. He’d been driven through them. He’d stayed in the massive house that lay beyond the intricate wrought iron and parkland.

In that house, he’d convalesced.

In that house, he’d fallen in love.

In the end, he’d left this extraordinary estate with a broken heart.

And I was there to tell his story.

On that thought, taking a bracing breath, I turned into the lane, stopped beside the security speaker and noted it had a camera.

I hit the button to roll down my window and was about to reach out and hit the one that would call to the house, but the speaker squawked at me before I could even raise my hand.

“Ms. Dupree?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Can you please hold your passport or some other official photo identification to the camera?” the speaker requested.

Unsurprised by this request, for I knew what lay beyond those gates, and thus I knew they wouldn’t let anyone through them who shouldn’t be going through them, I turned to my bag, pulled out my passport, opened it to the picture page and held it to the camera.

“One moment please,” the speaker said.

Although I wasn’t surprised they had security, and it was not just a couple of Ring cameras, I wondered what they could do with my passport information that would take a moment.

Could they check it?

And if they could, how did they get access to that kind of data?

As far as I knew, only government and law enforcement agencies could do something like that.

I mean, if they could, that would take this security to a new level.

I pocketed that emotion too as I slid my passport back into my tote and waited.

I waited some more.

And longer.

I was just about to say something when I heard a mechanism start churning, the gates started opening and the speaker squawked again.

“Thank you for waiting, Ms. Dupree. Please drive through.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you,” I replied.

As the gates slowly opened, I took my foot off the brake.

I was a writer, but I’d been a researcher first.

Therefore, I didn’t come here blind. I knew all about The Downs and the family that had lived there for more generations than my country had even been a country.

But as I drove through the opened gates, taking in the vast manicured lawns under the sprawling canopies of mature trees, I was blown away.

Everything was better in real life than in pictures.

However, this was something else, and “better” didn’t cover it.

And when the trees gave way and I started to see the house…

“Holy crap,” I whispered as more, and more, and more of it was unveiled.

I’d seen pictures of this too.

But…

Good God.

It was built of sandy-gold Bath stone. At the front middle, there was a dual staircase, each side leading up to a vast landing that was home to the fifteen-foot double doors of the main entrance. The house was three stories, one below stairs with half of the level rising above ground. It had a wide central section with two wings angling back at each end.

I drove my long-term rental to one side of the front steps, and I did it on autopilot, I was so entranced by the house.

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Advertisement Bad Medicine (Avenging Angels #4) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/bad-medicine-avenging-angels-4-read-online-kristen-ashley Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:26 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/bad-medicine-avenging-angels-4-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Avenging Angels Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)

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Willow Knightley has just been through it with her ex-mooch of a boyfriend. But sadly, he’s just the latest in a long string of men (starting at birth) who didn’t treat her right.

She decides her only recourse is to give up on men forever.

The problem is, her friend/acquaintance/one-time bodyguard, member of the Nightingale Investigations & Security team, Gabriel Stark, has targeted her as His One.

Gabe’s been through it at the hands of women too, so he knows exactly what he wants.

And he wants Willow.

Willow states her case against them being an us, but she doesn’t count on the fact that not only does Gabe love a challenge, he lives for them.

Up against an onslaught from a man who rinses his own whiskers out of the sink, Willow might not stand a chance.

But then, while the Angels are trying to figure out what’s got one of their informants very jittery, she gets a hint that there are demons in Gabe’s history, and she has to know.

The bets are on…

And luck favors a Stark

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

ONE

EVISCERATED

Several months ago…

I didn’t know how it happened.

One second I was standing just inside my apartment door and Gabe—my hot guy acquaintance/friend who had recently turned into my bodyguard—was moving through my space to make sure it was secure, no bad guys lurking in the closet, no ex-boyfriends planning on doing something (else) that was immensely stupid.

The next second, he called out all was safe, I stepped in further and shut the door behind me.

The second after that, he appeared in the mouth of the hall.

And then, for some reason, I was staring at him. (Okay, I knew the reason, he was breathtakingly handsome in a scary, uber masculine way.)

He was also staring at me.

How we made it across the room to each other, that was the part I didn’t know.

How we collided in the middle of my drab living room, again, no clue.

Though, I didn’t miss how his mouth crashed down on mine. How his arms crushed me to his tall, hard body. How my fingers skated over his thick, close-cropped, coal-black hair. How his neatly trimmed beard deliciously abraded my skin. How I opened my mouth to him practically before our lips touched. How he didn’t hesitate to thrust his tongue inside like my mouth was his to claim.

Like it had always been his to claim.

Before we met.

Before we were born.

Before the universe even came into being.

Uh…no, I didn’t miss how good his kiss was.

And I didn’t miss how good he felt, strong and warm.

Further, I didn’t miss how good I felt: wanting him, him wanting me…

Belonging to him.

Already.

I belonged to him.

With…just…one…kiss.

One kiss that wasn’t even done yet!

And I didn’t miss how safe…

How safe…

Safe.

Safe.

With all the mental and physical strength it took—and mind you, it took a lot (straight up, all I had)—I yanked from his arms and retreated two very wide steps, only stopping because I ran into my secondhand (but not all that bad) armchair.

Gabe was staring at me, his broad, proud chest visibly rising and falling with his breaths.

He wasn’t the only one breathing heavy.

“Willow—” he started.

I shook my head, lifting a hand, palm aimed his way like I was holding him off, but I knew.

Man, did I know.

Those gestures were for me.

I was holding myself back from making another really stupid, really damaging, really messed-up decision.

“That wasn’t smart,” I said, my words shaky.

He nodded, and that movement, his agreement, should’ve set my mind at ease.

But it felt like a million needles piercing my skin.

Then he said, “You’re right. While I’m assigned to protect you, we shouldn’t go there.”

“Gabe—”

“But after this shit is done, babe⁠—”

“No,” I stated firmly, surprised I had that in me, glad I did, but at the same time devastated.

His excruciatingly perfect, arched black eyebrows winged up. “What?”

“No,” I repeated.

“No…what?” he asked, appearing confused, which was kinda adorable.

Gabriel Stark had been in my sphere now for a good while. He was buds with my buds’ boyfriends. We were firmly entrenched in the same posse.

He was also built like a brick shithouse—bulky, sturdy, no lean muscle there. Though he was all muscle and it was all in-your-face power.

He was further, all spread-legs-while-seated, arms flung over the backs of chairs and booths, taking up manly space like it was his due. His chuckle, which was hard to come by, was deep and rumbling, and each time he emitted it, it was clear he was bestowing a gift you should feel lucky you received.

And whenever I heard it, I felt lucky.

Whenever I caused it, I felt like the queen of the world.

He was intense.

He was edgy.

He was so sexy, it was almost scary.

So not once, not even close, had he ever looked remotely adorable.

And seriously, in this exact moment, I really did not need to know he could.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

You’ve learned, my logical brain told me. The hard way. Like, a gazillion times. Starting at, oh, I don’t know…birth!

But this is Gabe, my starry-eyed, dreamer brain told me. He’s a member of the Hottie Squad. They’ve managed the impossible. They’ve succeeded in morphing the hot, sexy alpha bits with the thoughtful, sensitive enlightened bits of a human being with a dick.

Raye says Cap struggles with his inner caveman all the time, my logical brain reminded my dreamer.

He bests it, my dreamer reminded my logic.

Barely, Logic pointed out.

“Willow?” Gabe called.

I focused on him.

“No, not after either,” I pushed out because I had to.

For a second, it seemed my words didn’t penetrate.

I knew when they did because his brows knitted ominously.

“Were you in a fugue state when I kissed you and you missed what just went down?” he asked.

That was kinda funny, which was surprising because Gabe was not a funny guy. He didn’t joke. He didn’t quip. He was not lighthearted and fun-loving.

I wished I could laugh. Laugh and shrug off the words I’d just said. Tell him I wasn’t thinking straight. Tell him Kevin had muddled my head. Tell him, yeah, he was right, while all this crap was going down with Kev and Kev’s very dead friend Trev, we shouldn’t go there, but after…

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Advertisement Finding the One (River Rain #7) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/finding-the-one-river-rain-7-read-online-kristen-ashley Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:04:17 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/finding-the-one-river-rain-7-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: River Rain Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)

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Their parents being family friends, American/English aristocrat, Blake Sharp, and Scottish playboy Alasdair Wallace were thrust together all through their childhoods.

Blake thought Dair was a filthy, obnoxious, little boy bully.

Dair thought Blake was a spoiled, prissy wee miss.

Then Blake grew up to be a beautiful, loving woman who took care of everyone and made amazing pistachio muffins. And Dair grew up to be a protective, fun-loving, hard-living professional rugby player.

In the meantime, they’d both been deeply betrayed by lovers.

When their paths cross again, Blake is still reeling from her fiancé’s treachery and what she learned about herself during it.

Dair thinks he’s recovered from a marriage to a woman who was not at all what she seemed, and now he’s smitten by the woman Blake has become.

So smitten, he has every intention of exploring what they can grow to be together.

But their combined family history is filled with secrets and lies. Secrets and lies that explode in their faces.

And while they deal with that, ghosts from the past rise up and threaten to haunt their future.

Is what they built together strong enough to hold true?

Or will their personal demons tear them apart?

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

Chapter 1

Tally Sheet

Blake

* * *

“You need to be nicer to Wallace, dear.”

I turned at my mother’s voice.

“They’re an important family,” Mum went on when I caught her gaze. “And he’s the heir.”

This was so Mum.

Thus, of course, I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Blake Charlotte Sharp,” Mum snapped.

“Alasdair Wallace is a bully,” I snapped back and looked across the bar at the man in question.

He was standing with the groom-to-be (tomorrow) Rix and Rix’s best friend, Judge.

They looked like a craft beer advertisement.

A very successful one where every man who saw it would want to be them and therefore run right out and buy that beer. Whereupon they’d drink it and think the next day, even after they’d over imbibed, they’d be prepared go on a ten-mile hike that included a bracing swim in a snow-fed lake, get home and still have enough energy to mow the lawn and fuck their woman.

Blech.

Some women might think Dair Wallace was sinfully attractive.

I was not one of those women.

Okay, so he had thick, dark hair and rugged outdoorsman features hewn from centuries of his ancestors being, well…rugged outdoorsmen (along with rebels, warriors and pains in the asses of any English ruler that came along). He was tall and built like a rugby player (because he played rugby).

All my life, when we’d go to England for our visits to Mum, for a week during their summer holidays, the Wallaces would come down from their sprawling estate in Scotland to visit us in her townhome in London, or our family’s country seat in Somerset, or worst of this lot, we’d go up north and visit them.

Dair Wallace was the epitome of “oh, he’s pulling your hair and teasing you relentlessly because he likes you,” when everyone knew that wasn’t the case.

No, it was because little boys like that were assholes who weren’t taught better.

And Mum was the kind of woman who gave little boys like that as much leeway as possible, because that was the way of her world, but also because his daddy was rich.

And because she was fucking him.

Dair’s daddy that was.

As far as I knew, I was the only one who held this knowledge, outside Mum and Balfour Wallace. We’ll not get into how I discovered this because I didn’t need the resurgence of that particular trauma. We could just say it was not conjecture in the slightest.

We could also say that this affair had lasted forever, and as far as I knew (considering the covert glances they’d been sharing since the Wallace family showed at the party, not to mention, them being at Genny and Duncan’s last night), it was still going strong.

Certainly Kenna Wallace, Balfour’s wife, didn’t know it. Nor did Dair and Davina, their children.

The very fact the Wallace family were here, at this bar, for the rehearsal dinner for my sister Alex’s and her fiancé Rix’s wedding tomorrow said it all.

They were not family.

Dair nor Davina were in the wedding party.

Rix hadn’t even met any of them until yesterday.

This was one thousand percent not some formal celebration where “important” out-of-town guests needed to be catered to.

Alex didn’t even have a single flower in her wedding décor. Not one. It was all grass.

So it was pretty grass. Really pretty. I made sure that was so.

But it was grass, and this was an Arizona mountain bar that was one step up from a honkytonk (all right, I didn’t know that for certain, I’d never been to a honkytonk—and I never wanted to go to one—but this place was one step up from what I would suspect a honkytonk would be like).

They were serving a buffet out of tinfoil trays, for God’s sake. And it was barbeque. Totally messy. (However, also delicious.)

Dad was pissed Mum had invited them. I could tell.

Maybe he knew Mum was sleeping with Balfour, though I doubted, if he did know, he cared. They were so over. They were so very over, they were that before they even began. Something me and Alex lived our whole lives in numerous and vastly unpleasant ways.

Still, even if it was lowkey, laidback and happening in a private area sectioned off in a bar, this was a planned function. One where I finalized the numbers with the owners two weeks ago. And those numbers did not include Balfour, Kenna, Dair and Davina.

That was why Dad was pissed. Because Mum did this kind of crap all the time. And it drove him up the wall.

As it should.

It was rude as hell.

Of course, I inflated the numbers because one of the greatest sins of entertaining was running out of food. That said, I’d allotted for two more people, not four.

And Dair ate like a rugby player too. He’d been to the buffet three times (yes, I counted).

Once, he had nothing on his plate but a massive pile of meat covered in barbeque sauce.

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Advertisement Duty and Desire Read Online Aurora Rose Reynolds, Kristen Ashley, Kylie Scott, Rebecca Zanetti http://www.books2020.com/duty-and-desire-read-online-aurora-rose-reynolds-kristen-ashley-kylie-scott-rebecca-zanetti Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:27:07 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/duty-and-desire-read-online-aurora-rose-reynolds-kristen-ashley-kylie-scott-rebecca-zanetti Genre: Alpha Male Authors: Aurora Rose Reynolds, Kristen Ashley, Kylie Scott, Rebecca Zanetti Advertisement

Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >188

Honor, protection, and undeniable chemistry. Duty and Desire brings you heroes in uniform—bodyguards, soldiers, and law enforcers—who will do whatever it takes to protect the ones they love. Filled with action, danger, and steamy romance, these stories prove that sometimes the greatest battles are fought with the heart.

Keeping You by Aurora Rose Reynolds
Quiet Man by Kristen Ashley
Closer by Kylie Scott
and
Vengeance by Rebecca Zanetti

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

CHAPTER 1

TOILET PAPER AND BEER

Bridgett

Sitting in my car outside a random gas station I pulled into to fill my tank, I stare at the message I just received on my phone and feel my throat tighten—not with sadness but frustration. Two months ago today, I moved out of the house my soon-to-be ex-husband Conner and I shared. And since then, he’s made it his mission to make my life hell.

Every day, it’s a text or a phone call asking me to come back to him. And when I refuse, he lashes out. Why he even wants me back is anyone’s guess. He doesn’t love me. I mean, how could he when he’s constantly sleeping with other women and has since we got married? Plus, he wants a child, and I absolutely do not.

Not with him.

I might have done some not-so-nice and really stupid things in the past, but I would never bring a helpless baby into an unstable environment. Which is the whole reason he told me he wanted a divorce to begin with. He found out that I was still taking my birth control after expressing his desire for us to have a baby. Like the decision was solely up to him.

I admit I had second thoughts the first couple of weeks after leaving him because I was really fricking scared, and my mom was adamant that I was doing the wrong thing. But now, I have zero regrets.

Actually, that’s a lie. I have a whole bunch of regrets, but none of them have anything to do with moving out of the house he and I shared or contacting a divorce attorney after he didn’t. Because he only used the topic of divorce as a way to try to manipulate me into giving him what he wanted.

With no choice but to text him back, I drag in a breath, then quickly type a reply, letting him know exactly what my lawyer told me just a few days ago. He cannot, in fact, take my car from me—regardless that it’s in his name—so long as I pay the lease payment every month and keep the insurance up to date. Which I have.

After I send the message, I place my cell in the cupholder, then reach over and dig my wallet out of my bag on the passenger seat. With my credit card in hand, I shove my door open and place one high-heeled shoe on the ground, then the other, before hefting my butt out of the seat. Shoving my Visa into the machine a second later, I wait for it to clear. As the tank fills, I carefully watch the dollar amount since I can’t put more than fifty dollars in if I plan on eating this week.

Over the last sixty days, I’ve learned a lot about not only who I am and who I want to be but also about money and the value of a dollar. Before I moved out of the house I shared with Conner, I never thought about how much gas was or food. Or that an afternoon at the spa costs what some people—me included now—make in a month working full time. I cringe even thinking about that.

If I had been smart, I could have been working while married instead of traveling, shopping, and pretending to be happy—when I was not—and saving every single dollar I made. Had I done that, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now. I would’ve had a nest egg and would have been able to leave Conner without worry after the second time he cheated. The first time, I took him at his word that it was a mistake and would never happen again.

All that said, I now know I will never—not ever—be dependent on another man in my life.

When the pump hits forty-nine dollars, I grab the handle and squeeze the grip lightly until the amount lands right on the fifty-dollar mark. As I’m replacing the nozzle in its holder on the pump, someone shouting catches my attention. I turn in the direction of the building, feeling my stomach bottom out as two men run toward me, both dressed in dark clothing with masks covering their faces. As one lifts a gun in my direction, a balding older gentleman who must be the attendant on duty yells from inside the gas station that he’s calling the police.

“Where are your fucking keys?” the man closest to me barks while the one running with him opens the driver’s side door to my car and gets behind the wheel.

“Got the keys!” the guy inside shouts, and my Benz’s engine turns over while the man with the gun shoves me out of the way so he can open the passenger door, causing me to wobble on my heels. Then, in a blink, they speed off. I stare at the taillights of my car, sure that what just happened didn’t.

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Advertisement Night’s Fall (The Four Realms #1) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/nights-fall-the-four-realms-1-read-online-kristen-ashley Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:42 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/nights-fall-the-four-realms-1-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: The Four Realms Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >192

The Four Realms are experiencing an unprecedented period of peacе...

At thirteen years old, it became known Prince Aleksei Knightstar of Night's Fall was the True Heir. The next king, the fiercest warrior, the mightiest beast in all the realm.

The Fall rejoiced at having the first True Heir in over a century.

But Aleksei is private, no nonsense, and worried about why The Fall, in a time of peace, would need a True Heir.

Laura Makepeace is a talented costume designer and everywoman who's recovering from a recent random and traumatic attack where she lost something vital. She barely has it in her to put on a pretty frock and go drinking with her girlfriends.

She certainly isn't prepared to be summoned to the True Heir's table in the VIP section of a club.

The prince is not a male easily put off, not to mention, like every other female in the Four Realms, Laura has been crushing on him since she first saw him.

Thus, Laura finds herself suddenly being courted by Prince Aleksei and thrown into a whirl of public and press attention, royal family dysfunction...

And a plot that threatens lives and the peace of the Four Realms

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

Chapter 1

The Pink and Black Club

“You can pay me back whenever,” Catla announced graciously.

Sitting across from Catla in the back of her father’s LuxeCraft (or…one of them), Gayliliel and I could do nothing but stare at our friend in shock.

I should have expected something like this the minute Cat started pressing for a night out.

She’d couched it in the whole “I know what happened to you was awful, but you can’t hide away from life forever” routine.

However expected something like this was, this particular something was very un-Cat-like.

That being, spring it on us at the definition of the last minute and think we’d pay for it.

On this thought, the cab filled with Gayle’s fae energy, which meant I had no choice.

I had to take control of this burgeoning situation and speak first.

“Cat, entry into the Black Room is very expensive.”

I communicated this in as reasonable a tone as I could muster, considering everyone knew entry into the hyper-exclusive, VIP Black Room of the ridiculously famous and trendy Pink and Black Club wasn’t expensive. It was cripplingly steep. Cat knew it most of all, since she’d paid for it.

Gayle’s family had wealth, like Cat’s. Not as much, but she came from money.

That said, Gayle made her own way like most human children did when the time came, and considering her father was human (it was Gayle’s mom who was fae), that was the expectation.

Regardless, Gayle would have struck out on her own anyway. It was just who she was. Case in point, Gayle had started working at age fifteen, intent to get a head start. As such, now, she didn’t do too badly.

But she couldn’t afford the Black Room of the P&B Club.

Very few could.

This unlike Cat, whose mother was human, but her father was demon, and they were loaded. They not only had money, they had status. So much, they even hobnobbed with royalty.

Demons did things differently, especially for their daughters. Although Catla worked, she also received an additional allowance (a hefty one) from her family, which afforded her the opportunity to live the high life and dress to impress.

Not to mention, a monthly line of credit that was more than I’d ever made in an entire year.

My family, straight shifters on both sides, came from modest means.

Even if we didn’t, I’d escaped their dysfunction years ago. There had been no support from that quarter since, well…

I was born.

They’d kept me clothed and fed with a roof over my head, I’d give them that.

However, I’d gone no contact the minute I could. That being at seventeen, the age of majority for a shifter. But even before, I was as no contact as I could get still living in the same house with them.

“And we didn’t agree to it,” Gayle cut in, not speaking reasonably but instead, heatedly.

“And it’s really not in my budget,” I continued. Ever, I did not say.

“You can pay me back in installments or something,” Cat allowed.

I could feel Gayliliel bristling, not a good thing for a dark fae, and before I could intervene, she asked, “So, if you go out and buy me a pair of Eduardo Navasco shoes I don’t want and can’t afford, and give them to me, you’d expect me to pay you back for them?” Gayle asked.

“That’s hardly the same.” Cat flicked out an elegant hand. “You’re here, aren’t you? No one forced this on you.”

“Yes, I’m here because I thought we were going to the Pink Room,” Gayle shot back. “Or, at most, the Blue Room.”

The Pink Room was where everyone could get in, if you were chosen by the doorman. The cover charge was more expensive than most, but it wasn’t outlandish.

The Blue Room was one room deeper into the club. It required a charge that was not nominal. As such, although I’d been to the Pink Room, I’d never been in there.

The Black Room required a charge that, as noted, was astronomical. It also required connections. But since Cat’s people, the Truelocks, were The Truelocks, all she undoubtedly had to do was say her name, give her credit code, and we were in.

Cat crinkled her adorable snub nose at the very idea of mingling in the Pink Room, and when Gayle mentioned Blue, she didn’t look any happier.

Gayle didn’t miss it, nor did she like it.

“The little people can be fun. You should know,”—she flapped a hand between herself and me—“since you hang out with us.”

She wasn’t the “little people.”

But I was.

“No demon would be caught dead in the Pink Room,” Cat retorted.

She was very correct. When I’d been there before, I’d gone with Gayle, or one of our other friends, Monique. Never Cat.

And there it was.

Recently, Catla had been husband hunting at the decree of her father.

And Cat was hunting for a demon, or at least a half one, also at the decree of her father.

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Advertisement Tenderfoot (Avenging Angels #3) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/tenderfoot-avenging-angels-3-read-online-kristen-ashley Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:08:32 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/tenderfoot-avenging-angels-3-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Funny, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Avenging Angels Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >120

Harlow O’Neill is waiting for Javier Montoya to make his move. She has it bad for the gorgeous new investigator at Nightingale Investigations and Security. She’s sure he knows it. She’s also sure he’s just as into her.

And she’s read the Rock Chick books. She knows how those Hottie Squad men are supposed to win their women.

Javi is just not trying to win her.

Then one evening Harlow is undercover on a mission for the Avenging Angels, and Javi blows her cover. She’s not happy about it. They share words and some of the ones Javi uses aren’t all that great.

Harlow retreats. Javi goes on the advance.

And the man Harlow was investigating winds up dead.

The Angels go all in to discover what’s happening with a dating app scam that ended up with a dead guy. The Nightingale men aren’t fans of the women wading in on such a dangerous case, and they’re doing something about it.

It’s a race between the Angels and the Hottie Squad as to who’s going to solve the mystery.

While all of that happens, Javi’s not taking any chances with Harlow’s safety. He moves her into his place and Harlow learns firsthand what it means to be in the romantic crosshairs of a member of the Hottie Squad…and the heartbreaking reasons why Javi kept her at arm’s length

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

ONE

“THE PROPHECY”

(TAYLOR SWIFT)

“All quiet on the Western front.”

“You were just dying to say that, weren’t you?”

“Well…duh.”

“Though, how do you know? You’re on the Eastern front.”

“Semantics.”

“Directions.”

“He’s late.”

“I’m not liking this.”

“Is this business usually this boring?”

In order, all the above was: Luna, Raye, Luna again, Jess, Luna, Jess again, Willow and Shanti.

My crew. My besties.

The Angels.

This convo sounded in my new ear thingy. One of the ones Arthur gave us.

It was fancy-dancy. It received and sent. In other words, it picked up my voice and the conversations I had. My girls could hear everything, and I didn’t have to speak into a wristwatch or something like that.

It was extra cool.

Then again, Arthur tended to spoil us, and as such, always got us the best stuff.

The ear thingies even matched our flesh tones so they’d be harder to see. Like really matched, as if they were made just for us. Mine was a peachy pink. Jess’s was an oliveish peach. Shanti’s was mocha. You get the picture.

Though, I wore my hair down, just in case.

I wasn’t taking any chances because, with this loser I was going to be dealing with that night, I was our only shot, and I couldn’t blow it. He went for girls like me (and Willow), and one could say Raye, Luna, Jessie and Shanti weren’t at all like me (or Willow). And since he was Willow’s ex, and he was giving her troubles, me and the other Angels were trying to shut him down.

It wouldn’t do for him to see my ear thingy and the jig being up.

It’d taken some doing to get to the point of this fake date, even if he didn’t know it was fake, including some reconnaissance (to others this might be considered stalking, though stalkers tended to stalk, and we were stalking as a means to an end—I liked to think that made all the difference so it didn’t feel skeevy).

It also included me signing up to a dating app (not my thing at all, when I found my guy, it’d happen like it was supposed to happen…organically) and arranging for me to be in his vicinity because the app he used to prey on women was one that binged with a possible match when someone was close.

Seriously.

Creepy, or what? (I’ll answer that…it was creepy.)

Why any woman would willingly allow strangers to know she was nearby, I had no idea.

I didn’t suspect that app was going to have a long lifespan. I’d messed around with it, and unsurprisingly, the vast majority of people on it were men.

And I suspected many of those men were what we weren’t but were forced to be under the circumstances: stalkers.

But there I was, after Kevin and I “matched.” With Willow’s guidance, the Angels created a profile for me he’d go for, and I had to admit, with no small amount of disquiet, what we wrote wasn’t far from the truth.

Me and Willow’s ex, Kevin, had been messaging each other for a week.

It was time for a meet.

Let me rewind.

My friends and I were the Avenging Angels. We were vigilantes (of a sort). We investigated crimes on our time off from being servers, baristas and bartenders at a fun, hip spot called The Surf Club.

We had a benefactor: Arthur. He was our Charlie. He seemed to have unlimited means, but none of us had met him, nor did we know who he was.

We also had a Bosley, but her name was Clarice, she was a high-powered, expensive lawyer, and she didn’t like to be referred to as Bosley.

I know this sounds crazy, and maybe to some, it was.

But surprise of surprises, even with zero training, we were really good at this investigating stuff.

It might be dumb luck, but I was an optimist, so I liked to think of it as good intuition.

Since we started doing this, we’d solved the mystery of women going missing, abducted by a human trafficking ring.

We’d then solved the mystery of people from homeless camps also going missing, kidnapped to be forced labor in drug dens.

Now, we were doing this.

It all started when Raye was triggered, because her little sister had been kidnapped and murdered when she was super young, and her entire family had fallen apart. Raye descended onto a path of wreaking justice to injustice and eventually investigating the disappearance of a little girl (who, yeah, you guessed it, Raye found with zero training).

The rest of us got roped in (by “the rest of us,” I mean Jessie, Luna and I).

Recently, we recruited Shanti and Willow, mainly because Arthur picked Shanti, and she was tight with Willow, and Willow was having man problems, so we girls pulled her in because we figured that was what Arthur got us all together to do.

Not to mention, Willow was already a loose member of our crew. She worked with us at SC, we all liked her a whole bunch, she thought our Angel business was cool, so why not?

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Advertisement The Woman Left Behind (Misted Pines #4) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/the-woman-left-behind-misted-pines-4-read-online-kristen-ashley Mon, 21 Apr 2025 22:20:18 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-woman-left-behind-misted-pines-4-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Drama, New Adult, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Misted Pines Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >127

There are two dead bodies in Idaho, and the gun used to kill them has been traced back to a sixteen-year-old robbery in Misted Pines.

Sheriff Harry Moran has a broken heart and a stack of case files on his desk that the corrupt sheriff who came before him might have bungled.

Or he may have framed innocent people.

The first case Harry dives into, the woman left behind lives just a block away from his office.

When Lillian Rainier opens the door to the sheriff, Harry, who’s been a dead man walking since his wife died, comes back to life.

As for Lillian, she’s had a crush on Harry for forever, Harry showing at her door, and how he is when he does only makes her fall deeper.

As Harry and his team dive into these suspicious cases, Harry and Lillian have to figure out what to do with all they feel for each other, how hard it hits them, and how deep it goes.

But as a voice from the past becomes a witness in the present, and Harry and his crew dig deeper, they sense something sinister happened years ago.

As they weave together the threads of a cold case, they realize how messy it is.

Worse, the man behind the mess is desperately cleaning it up …

And no one in Misted Pines is safe.

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

Prologue

GUT

Harry

Shitty police work was one of the ugliest stains on society.

This was the thought Sheriff Harry Moran had as he sat in his ergonomic chair behind his desk at the sheriff’s department.

He was staring at the two files in front of him trying to ignore the email that was up on the monitor of his computer.

Those files were two of fifteen stacked on his desk.

Each of those files had one thing in common: the shoddy, lazy or corrupt investigation overseen by Fret County’s last sheriff, Leland Dern.

Dern was the man who came before Harry.

Which meant Harry was the man who had to clean up Dern’s mess.

Due to recent circumstances—the latest being a double murder that wasn’t properly investigated and an innocent man served prison time—a full and exhaustive, time-consuming and resource-heavy audit of every investigation under Dern’s tenure had been done.

There were shambolic cases they’d had no choice but to file away. The police work hadn’t been up to Harry’s expectations of his department, but there was nothing that pointed to an injustice being done.

Now, he and his team had to go back over those fifteen cases and hope what Harry expected—Dern playing favorites, taking bribes, looking the other way or preferring to go hunting rather than working—wouldn’t land them in lawsuits.

He was starting with these two.

He glanced at his monitor and felt his neck muscles tighten, which meant he again looked to the files and refocused.

They were the two cases that intrigued Harry the most, because the woman who had connections with both lived a block away from his department, only a five-minute walk from where he sat right there at his desk.

Lillian Rainier.

He’d lived in the town of Misted Pines his entire life, and because of his job, he knew or knew of a great many people in all of Fret County, and he’d never heard of her.

But Dern suspected, and investigated, her parents of a robbery sixteen years ago.

The investigation stalled, because Sonny and Avery Rainier had disappeared. And then, the case had simply died. Nothing else had been done. Not an interview, not a single follow-up of a lead.

A year later, Lillian married Willie Zowkower, a man Harry did know well.

Willie was a low-level gentleman dealer and a high-level charming asshole who currently had three outstanding arrest warrants in Fret County.

Recently, Willie had also disappeared.

And Lillian hadn’t reported her parents, or her husband, missing.

Harry’s gut was telling him something was up with Lillian Rainier.

And what was on Harry’s computer monitor was telling him whatever that was, it was something bad.

So, no. His gut wasn’t telling him anything. It was practically screaming at him to get off his ass, walk to her house and have a word.

Since Harry wasn’t lazy, and he thought of law enforcement not as a job but as a calling, he got off his ass in order to walk to her house and have a word.

It would be a good bet Harry had passed Lillian Rainier’s house thousands of times in his life, and he never noticed it.

Standing outside it now, he wondered why.

A small cracker box painted a pale yellow with white trim, sporting a green roof and a shocking-red door, there were profuse plantings of bronze, butterscotch and yellow button mums in appealing but mismatched terracotta pots dotted up the front steps and all over porch. An attractive fall wreath of leaves, berries and pinecones was on the door. A white picket fence rounded the property, and he could see the numerous rose bushes that likely ornamented that fence in the summer had been cut back in preparation for winter.

There were two Adirondack chairs on the porch. They were painted white and had yellow, brown and green plaid lumbar pillows upstanding against the back of the seats, a wooden table with a lantern resting on top between them.

No kitschy Sweater Weather! Or Happy Fall Y’all or Fall in Love! signs marred the neat, well-kept property.

As he opened the gate on the fence and stepped foot on her front walk, that feeling in Harry’s gut intensified.

Something was up.

Something was about to happen.

Something big.

He walked up the steps to that bright-red door.

He knocked.

He stood in his uniform and looked through the box of six square-paned windows at the top of the door, when he sensed movement inside.

And then there she was.

She opened the door.

The instant she did, the moment his eyes caught hers, Harry’s chest caved in, and his stomach curled up.

Yeah.

Something was about to happen.

Something big.

And he wasn’t ready for it.

ONE

Fresh-Cut Flowers

Lillian

I stared up and into the chocolate brown eyes of Sheriff Harry Moran, my heart in my throat, even though, when he’d made the announcement at the town council meeting that they were auditing Leland Dern’s files, I knew this day would come.

I had answers to his questions.

I doubted he had any answers to mine.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >127

Advertisement Smooth Sailing (Wild West MC #3) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/smooth-sailing-wild-west-mc-3-read-online-kristen-ashley Wed, 12 Feb 2025 07:22:53 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/smooth-sailing-wild-west-mc-3-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Wild West MC Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >135

When the Chaos Motorcycle Club came to call, Harlan “Hugger” McCain wasn’t ready to be welcomed into the fold. They said he was a legacy. He felt like an outcast.

But he patched in anyway.

And he was all in to be a part of their not-quite-outlaw missions.

This takes him down to Phoenix, right into the orbit of Diana Armitage, a beautiful, green-eyed woman with a heart of gold and a scarily honed tendency to sacrifice for pretty much everyone she cares about, and some people she barely knows.

Hugger has been existing. Life has never given him much, now, he expects even less.

Diana lives life to its fullest. And she doesn’t keep it a secret she wants to drag Hugger right along with her.

But Hugger is certain he’s got bad blood. He’s got one foot in Chaos, one foot out. One foot in Diana’s life, one foot out.

Diana and his brothers in Chaos have their work cut out to show Hugger who he is.

That he belongs.

And he’s worthy to be loved.

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

PROLOGUE

BEAT-UP CHAIRS

Big Petey

Denver, Colorado

Not too long ago…

Thursday Night

The bar wasn’t the worst Pete had been in, it wasn’t the best either.

But it was a bar, a busy one, and shit went down in bars, busy, seedy, or neither.

And shit was going down.

That was why he tensed, and Rush, sitting across from him in a back corner booth, tensed with him.

They’d seen the dipshit on the barstool cop a feel of a woman’s ass as she walked by with her friends. They’d seen her negative reaction to that unwanted touch.

And they’d seen how Harlan McCain hadn’t missed either.

Now, Harlan, a bouncer at the bar, was on the move.

Pete knew Harlan also hadn’t missed the man on the barstool had a crew with him.

And that bar had one bouncer.

Harlan.

That didn’t stop the man from walking right up to Barstool and having a few words.

Unsurprisingly, those words didn’t go well.

Even if Harlan appeared to be going about things calmly and rationally, the situation deteriorated. Barstool got off his seat, going right into a two-handed shove on Harlan without the man doing a thing to stop him.

His buds all exited their seats and gathered around.

Harlan went back a step at the shove, but that was it.

Except Harlan kept talking.

Barstool got in his face, and it was clear he wasn’t sharing the weather.

Harlan stayed cool, and when Barstool finally shut up, he kept calm and kept talking with some easily read head and hand motions that indicated Barstool, and his buds, were invited to walk out the front door.

Barstool, either drunk, stupid, or both, took a step back, cocking an arm to throw a punch.

This caused Pete to prepare to move.

It also caused Harlan to dodge, and while dodging, take Barstool by the back neck of his shirt, the back waistband of his jeans and frog-march him right out the front door.

His crew followed, and their set faces and body language shared what they intended to do when this shit went outside.

Pete and Rush instantly slid out of their booth.

Harlan was a big guy. Tall. Built. And the man’s muscle wasn’t lean, it was bulky.

If he knew how to use it, it would pack a mean punch.

If he didn’t, it could slow him down. Make him vulnerable.

But four on one wasn’t good odds for anybody, no matter how they could handle themselves.

This being why Pete and Rush quickly wound their way through the bar to the front door and out of it.

Rush was young, fit, and he knew how to take care of business.

Pete had long since passed his days where he could throw down.

Shit, he had to brace in preparation just to stand up from a chair. His knees were bad. His back ached most days. His neck got stiff easily. Even his hips got to hurting on more than the rare occasion. Cold weather seized him right up. He went through ibuprofen like he owned stock in that shit.

The thought of throwing a punch, or catching one, made his stomach curl into itself.

But this was Harlan.

This was Jackie’s boy.

So Pete would get trounced to dirt if it came to it.

Rush pushed out the door first, Pete followed, and they both stopped in their tracks right outside.

Barstool was flat on his back on the pavement, and he looked like he was out cold.

One of his crew was bent double, his hand to his face, blood streaming through his fingers, hollering, “You broke my nose, asshole!”

Another was on his knees, both hands clutching his junk, a look on his face no man needed translated.

The last was backing off from Harlan, his hands up.

“Well…shit,” Rush whispered.

That said it.

What, it took them half a minute to get out there?

Impressive.

“Banned,” Harlan’s low, rough voice came, his gaze centered on Hands Up.

“You just earned a lawsuit,” Hands Up threatened.

“Got cameras everywhere, man. They caught that genius”—Harlan jerked his head toward the prone man on the pavement—“doing his grab-ass shit in the bar. Caught him refusing to leave when it was made clear he was no longer welcome in this establishment. Caught him shoving me and winding up to land a blow. Out here, caught him doing the same, then that professor”—an additional jerk of the head to the one bleeding—“jumped on my back.” Another jerk in the other direction. “That one tried to pile on. Now, you tell me, what judge is gonna see some assclown grab a woman’s ass, refuse to leave when asked, all four of you throwing down against one guy, and give you that first dime for me protecting myself and the women in the bar, something I’m employed, in part, to do?”

Before Hands Up could speak, Harlan kept at him.

“None of ’em. Trust me on this, I been doin’ it for a while. Now gather your troops and get gone. Don’t come back either. Lifetime ban.”

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Advertisement Back in the Saddle (Avenging Angels #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley http://www.books2020.com/back-in-the-saddle-avenging-angels-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:24:06 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/back-in-the-saddle-avenging-angels-2-read-online-kristen-ashley Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Authors: Kristen Ashley Series: Avenging Angels Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >141

Jessie Wylde is on a secret mission. She’s trying to find her brother. She hasn’t told her friends; this is about family.

She doesn’t think it’s dangerous.

Eric Turner disagrees.

Eric is a member of the Nightingale Investigations and Security team. Therefore, Eric knows what he’s talking about.

Eric isn’t only badass, he’s also a seriously gorgeous guy, and Jessie has a huge crush on him. She doesn’t think he knows she exists…until now.

Eric steps in, and so do Jessie’s besties, the Avenging Angels. Soon, the Angels and the Hottie Squad are on the case to find Jessie’s missing sibling.

There’s more happening when it comes to Eric, though. Jessie’s so worried about her brother, she’s not paying attention. Eric sets about changing that, and just like all the Hot Bunch before him, when he finds his one, he doesn’t mess around.

However, something is afoot in Phoenix. And as the Angels uncover the sinister workings behind people going missing, and Eric and Jessie unpack their emotional baggage, the Angels dive deeper into the dark underbelly of the city…

Finding heroes, more hot guys, lots of hijinks…and heart.

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

ONE

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

It was dark as pitch in the area around the makeshift encampment that sat in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, in what had become a kind of no-man’s-land just south of the heart of the city.

This darkness might have had to do with the fact it was nearing one in the morning.

It wasn’t a great time to do my search, but in the last six months, I’d been hitting up the encampment at random times, day and evening, and always came up empty-handed. But due to safety issues, I’d never gone so late (or early, depending on how you looked at it).

This time, I was giving it a shot precisely because it was so late (also because I was getting desperate).

He had to sleep somewhere, and I was hoping it was here. At the same time, I died a little death thinking it might be.

It was the night before Thanksgiving.

I’d hoped he’d be somewhere with someone on Thanksgiving, even if that someone wasn’t me, and, well, that somewhere was here.

I’d learned, and I had the requisite materials with me.

Four bags full of bottles of water (sorry environment) and a backpack stuffed with packs of beef jerky, boxes of protein bars and hydration packets.

Oh yeah, and an empty used sharps container.

Homer shuffled out first, as Homer always did. I wasn’t sure Homer slept. I was sure Homer was King of the Homeless Encampment.

I was sure of this because I’d learned something else. I had to make Homer trust me before anyone else did.

This took time.

And lots of bottles of water and packs of beef jerky.

He said nothing as he took two of the bags and the sharps container from me.

Then he mumbled, “Late night.”

“Is he here?”

My vision had adjusted to the dark. I’d hit the encampment, and in the dim light that came from the city and various camp lanterns dotting the space, I saw his eyes in his dangerously tanned, leathery, be-whiskered face catch mine.

And I saw my answer.

No.

My brother wasn’t there.

“Seen him?” I asked as we began to move through the oddly organized labyrinth of tents, the tarps that created crude shelters, loaded grocery carts and scattering of debris.

“Did you bring clean syringes?”

This wasn’t an answer to my question, and sadly my answer to his was, “Not this time.”

He nodded, reached into a bag, made a noise, and a hand came out of a tent.

He put a bottle of water in it as I shrugged off the backpack to pull out a bag of jerky.

Homer took that, tossed it into the tent, and we moved on.

We did this at two more tents before I said, “Homer.”

That was all I said, but he got me, so he stopped and turned to me.

And he stated it plainly. “You find him, you quit coming.”

Oh my God.

On the one hand, it felt good that he trusted me, and him saying that meant he and his brethren appreciated me. I didn’t have the resources to give much, and I knew I didn’t help their situation at all, but it was nice to understand the little I did meant something.

On the other hand, I needed to find my brother.

“Are you…keeping him from me?” I asked.

He shook his head.

But he said, “Others might.”

That meant, since Homer knew everyone and everything, others were.

Damn.

I pointed out the obvious. “I’ve gotta know if he’s all right.”

Homer gazed around the dismal space that looked bad and smelled worse.

I took his point.

If Jeff was here, he wasn’t all right.

Then again, I already knew he wasn’t all right.

Just as I knew, the minute Mom kicked him out seven months ago and he didn’t do his usual—bunk with one of his buds, then figure his shit out and get back on his meds—I would be doing what I was doing right then.

And there I was, doing what I was doing right then.

We moved through the space, silently handing out waters and protein delivery systems, with me looking closely at faces and trying to peer into tents.

I came up empty.

As usual.

When we were back at Homer’s tent, he took the spent plastic bags from me (something else I’d learned: Homer had a thing for plastic bags) but handed me the clattering sharps container.

“It’d be good you bring syringes next time,” he said.

With that, he ducked into his tent and disappeared.

I stared at it, the feelings I was feeling balling up inside me, the weight so heavy, the urge was almost overwhelming to open my mouth and shriek my fear and frustration to the skies above Phoenix.

I didn’t do that.

I carried that weight with the container and my empty backpack to my car.

Though, I didn’t make it to my car.

I stopped dead twenty feet away when I saw Eric Turner, investigator at Nightingale Investigations & Security. The place of business of Eric, Cap (my friend Raye’s boyfriend) and a number of other badasses who were all ridiculously attractive.

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