Alpha Male – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Alpha Male – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:02:03 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Alpha Male – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Crooked Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward http://www.books2020.com/crooked-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:02:03 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/crooked-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >106

A new, sexy standalone from bestsellers Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision.

But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Wes knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was also infuriatingly protective. And smart. And funny. And thoughtful when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Little by little, the walls I’d built started to crack, and falling for the bodyguard became the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. Because if my father found out, Wes wouldn’t just lose his job. He’d lose his life.

Getting involved with him was reckless, yet I couldn’t find a way to stop it, no matter how hard I tried. But while I was busy losing my heart, the man who took it was hiding a secret.

And it turned out, the most dangerous man in my life wasn’t my father after all—it was the one who threatened to break my heart

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

CHAPTER 1

* * *

Juliette

Ugh. What the heck time is it?

I pushed my sleep mask up onto my forehead and reached over to the nightstand to unplug my ringing cell from the charger. Arlo Quinn flashed on the screen, and unless I’d slept eighteen hours, he was calling me at five fifteen AM.

“Hello?” My voice cracked with morning grog.

“Hey, Jules. It’s Arlo. I’m sorry to wake you this early.”

“If you aren’t calling to tell me there’s a wildfire heading straight for my house, I’m hanging up.”

He sighed. “Bradley doesn’t like the rewrites you did.”

I sprang upright. “What? How is that possible? It’s the fourth set of rewrites I’ve done for those scenes, and I barely even wrote any of the words. Bradley dictated how he wanted the entire thing to go.”

“I know. I’m sorry. He can be…difficult sometimes.”

“Parallel parking in front of The Ivy while being watched by a table of movie stars is difficult. Figuring out what to wear when someone tells you dinner is smart casual is difficult. Bradley Wilson? That man is a giant asshole.”

Arlo chuckled. “He wants to meet with you at six in his trailer at the studio.”

“That’s in forty-five minutes.”

“I know. He just woke me up to have me call you.”

I shook my head and ripped the covers from my body, dragging myself out of bed. “Does Sam know he asked for rewrites again?”

“I’m not sure.”

Translation—the director has no freaking clue. These constant rewrites had become a control game for Bradley, a power trip of sorts. The director’s team spends hours planning the next day’s shoot, only to have the star show up ten minutes before call time and drop twenty pages of rewrites in their laps. After, he struts back to his trailer to sip his stupid grande, iced, half-caff, ristretto, sugar-free vanilla, oat milk macchiato with no foam and enjoy a one-hour massage. I had no clue why the director put up with it. Actually, that wasn’t true. He probably did it for the same reason I did. Because Bradley Wilson was—Lord knows why—one of Hollywood’s biggest A-list actors at the moment, and the jerk had a lot of industry pull.

Annoyed, I padded into the kitchen to the coffeemaker. “I’ll be there, Arlo. But you have to invite Sam, too, or at least one of the assistant directors. They need to be in the loop from now on.”

“Okay. I’ll make some calls.”

I breathed out on a huff. “Thank you.”

“There’s one more thing…”

“I’m afraid to ask. What?”

“Bradley requested you stop at Robeks and pick up his morning energy drink.”

My eyes bulged. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

The poor assistant sighed. “I’m afraid not.”

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “I’m not doing it. I’m a screenplay writer, not his damn gopher.”

“I would do it myself, but my girlfriend and I share a car, and she works the night shift. She doesn’t get home until seven.”

“Why can’t he have his drink delivered from Uber Eats?”

“He doesn’t trust the drivers.”

“What does he think is going to happen? They’re going to poison him? Wait, on second thought, maybe I will pick up his energy drink, with a side of cyanide.”

“I’ll take an Uber and get it for him. I really am sorry to keep calling you with all his requests, Jules.”

I took a deep breath in and let it out. It wasn’t Arlo’s fault. And the poor guy probably made minimum wage for dealing with his asshole boss all day long. “I’ll pick up his drink. There’s a Robeks on my way to the studio.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t guarantee I won’t add some laxatives so he’s stuck in the bathroom half the day, but yeah. I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Jules. I’ll text you his order. It’s sort of long.”

Of course it is… After I hung up, I brewed a cup of coffee and took a three-minute shower. I did not wash my hair. Looking in the half-fogged mirror, I gave myself a quick internal pep talk. Think on the bright side. Your day can’t get much worse than being woken up at five AM and having a spoiled actor’s breakfast order to fetch.

Unfortunately, the universe must’ve taken my attempt at manifesting a better day as more of a challenge. Because when I climbed into my car at twenty minutes to six, my cell phone rang a second time. And the name on the screen this time was probably the only person I wanted to speak to less at this hour than Bradley Wilson—my father.

I debated not picking it up, but the last time I’d avoided Dad for a half day, he’d sent one of his goons to my house to knock on my door. So I took yet another deep breath and told myself dealing with my father would be good practice for my meeting with Bradley—a primer in staying calm.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >106

Advertisement Worth the Fight Read Online Alexa Riley http://www.books2020.com/worth-the-fight-read-online-alexa-riley Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:02:01 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/worth-the-fight-read-online-alexa-riley Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Alexa Riley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

Katie can’t trust her father, not after he threatened to have her committed if she told people how he treated her. He’s a man with influence and power, so she decides to hide out at Farrow Haven, the safe house for women. When she arrives, she realizes that she could be putting everyone in danger. Now she has no choice but to trust the clinic’s doctor to keep her safe. The only problem is, he knows all her hidden secrets.
Wynn knows who Katie is the moment she steps into his office. What she doesn’t know is that he’s keeping secrets of his own. He’s going to make things right by keeping her safe, but the one thing he can’t keep hidden are his feelings for her.

Someone call a doctor because these two are burning up the pages. What else are they supposed to do while locked in a house with no power? Get back in the ring one more time for the ultimate showdown… don’t worry, she’s worth fighting for

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

CHAPTER

ONE

KATE

What has become of me? I stare into the mirror, not recognizing myself while wondering how I ended up here. A few months ago, I was in a whole other country, away at school. I'd been fairly neutral about boarding school but only because I went back and forth on the reasons for it. At times I'd ask myself if they shipped me off because I was so much of a bother, and other times I'd convince myself it was for the better. I was getting an education that most people only dreamed of, so I tried to focus on that.

Besides, if I was at home, I’d likely be just as lonely. My parents were always busy. My mother was fully invested in charity work, which always seemed to be more about the parties than any actual charity. I guess the appearance of it was what mattered to her the most.

My father is one of the best lawyers in the city, but when he decided to take a shot at running for senator, that’s when everything went wrong. Or was it when my mother died? I'm not so sure anymore since it's all still a blur. The last few months went by in a blink, but the days hadn't felt that way. They'd felt long.

I reach up to touch my black eye and wince. It's worse today. Part of my cheek has a bruise that formed overnight. My father always had a temper. My parents could be volatile toward each other, but I guess now that my mom is gone, he chose to take it out on me.

When I was told my mother had fallen down the stairs, at first I was shocked. But it hadn’t taken long for my mind to wander. The toxicologist report said she was drunk, but who knows what happened to make her fall. I’ll never have the answers because my father has far too many friends in high places. He’ll soon be a person in high places as well.

The grieving widower image was selling well for him too. Despite seeing him upset a few times, he’s moved past it quickly. Maybe his guilty conscience is what had him upset in the first place. Either way, it’s been six months, and he seems fine. He might not be going out with women publicly, but he’s been inviting them back to the house.

When I found out my mother died, I came home, but he hasn’t let me go back to finish out my semester at school. Thankfully it was close to the end, and of course they let me finish up online. My father simply had to ask, and they were quick to agree.

At first I thought he wanted me home because it was a big change. It didn't take me long to realize I was now a prop for him to use in his bid to become senator. It’s only the two of us now, and he tried prancing me around like a pony.

With my mother gone, I believe all the anger he kept bottled up is now aimed at me. There’s nothing that I can do correctly in his eyes. However, to the rest of the world, he appears to be a loving father that’s helping his daughter through this tragic time.

Things came to a head when he tried to get me to go on a date with one of the partners in his firm. The man was fifty years old. I told my father that going on a date with a man so much older than me would look horrible to the public, but he didn’t care. He told me that if I didn’t comply, the consequence would be his daughter having a mental breakdown and needing to be committed.

A knock at the door jolts me back to reality. Yesterday, while my father was preoccupied with a woman he brought home, I snuck out. I don't know if he's noticed I'm gone yet, but it's not as though he'd be able to take me out in public. Not with how badly my face is bruised. It would be horrible for his image and start all kinds of rumors.

I smooth out my hair to make myself presentable, but it's stupid. I'm in Farrow Haven, so it’s not like I have anyone to impress. They’ve already seen my black eye, and thankfully they didn’t push for more details when I'd gotten here yesterday. The main thing they wanted to know was if I was an adult. Apparently, they have a separate haven for teens on the run.

Years ago, I met a female officer that was working at an event my mother hosted. In a bold move, I reached out and confided in her because I knew she'd understand. She knew who my father was and that there wasn't going to be much the police could do.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

Advertisement Punished by the Prison Warden Read Online Jenna Rose http://www.books2020.com/punished-read-online-the-prison-warden-read-online-jenna-rose Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:59 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/punished-read-online-the-prison-warden-read-online-jenna-rose Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Forbidden, Novella, Taboo, Virgin Authors: the Prison Warden Read Online Jenna Rose Advertisement

Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >20

I’m the only woman in a prison full of men. And the warden has his eye on me.

I'm innocent, but no one believes me. Not the judge, not my mother, and definitely not Warden Killian Rew, the most terrifying, gorgeous man I've ever seen.

I’m just a number to him. 5075. He makes me call him sir and obey his every command. One second he’s warm, the next he’s ice cold, tearing my heart in two directions.

But when the other inmates come for me, he saves me. When I'm shaking and broken, he holds me together. And when his cold mask finally cracks, I see what’s underneath.

Obsession. Possession. I belong to him.
I should be afraid of this man. Instead, all I can say yes, sir.

A human-written, instalove romance featuring a dominant alpha warden, a sweet and innocent FMC, age-gap, forced proximity, no cheating, no cliffhangers, just pure escapism, steamy scenes, loving devotion and a guaranteed HEA!

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

1

ALICE

“Alice Clement, I find you guilty of theft, breaking and entering, and destruction of private property and sentence you to one year in prison!”

The judge’s gavel comes down hard, echoing through the courtroom, causing my stomach to sink like the Titanic. Somewhere behind me, I hear my mom’s desperate wail as the tears start to fall.

“I’m innocent! Momma, help me!” I cry out. But it’s too late. Big men in uniforms are already dragging me away, my wrists handcuffed like they’re worried I’m actually dangerous. Me. A five-foot-three girl, barely one hundred pounds. Who am I a danger to?

“You’re no daughter of mine,” my mom hisses, eyes bloodshot as she stands. “I broke my back raising you on my own, and this is how you repay me?”

“Mom, I swear—” But I don’t even have time to finish as I’m hauled out a side door and into a grim corridor. My legs turn to Jell-O, but it doesn’t matter. The guards hold me, dragging me on.

“Don’t try that with us, sweetie. You’re going to prison, and it can be the easy way or the hard way.”

The other man chuckles, his voice like sandpaper. “Sure wouldn’t mind if it was the hard way, am I right?”

This cracks them both up as my pulse goes wild and my heart rattles like a flag in a hurricane.

How did this happen? I’m the world’s best-behaved girl. I’m eighteen and have never been suspended, never had detention. I’ve never even been late to school. And yet suddenly, I’m a criminal.

It all started three weeks ago when Jamie, the lady who runs the nail salon where I work—well, worked—came rushing out of the back office, screaming at the staff that cash had been taken from her safe. I didn’t even know she had a safe, but she instantly accused me because I ‘looked guilty’ and was the new girl.

Nothing I said could convince her otherwise. She never liked me. Even tried to accuse me of being late when I was on time. Before I could even defend myself, she called the police and I was arrested and booked.

Mom and I couldn’t afford a lawyer, so one was appointed by the state—one who could not have cared less about me. I swear, six months in law school and I could have given myself a better defense.

Now here I am, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, as two double doors open in front of me, revealing a white prison van.

“No, please!” I cry out, squirming against the impossibly tight grip of my captors. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up,” one of them barks as I’m hurtled into the back of the van. My vision blurs and my head spins as I’m chained to the wall and the doors slam shut behind me.

The engine roars and the van leaps forward, sending my head slamming into the wall. I cry out in pain and pray for a miracle. But it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting one.

The ride to the prison feels fast, but I have no way of judging time back here. No phone, no watch, no human contact. Just me, a pair of handcuffs, and a chain.

Just as I’m starting to drift off, the doors open and the same two men snatch me up like a fresh new delivery and carry me out with the same lack of care. Somehow, I manage to look up and see a sign over the door that reads: Last Rites Penitentiary.

“You’ll love it here, sweetie,” one guard chuckles. “The only girl. You’ll have the pick of the litter.”

Adrenaline rakes through me. “W-what do you mean, only girl?”

The other guard smirks down at me, his lips dry and cracked. “Oh, they didn’t tell you? Until last month, this was an all-male facility.”

A sense of doom crashes into my stomach, weighing me down as I stare up at the stained brick walls, the fences ringed with razor wire, and the armed guards at regular intervals.

All this for petty theft? Petty theft I didn’t even commit?

“How many men?” I ask, my voice no more than a breath.

“Five thousand and seventy-four.”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to vomit. A shiver courses through me as the gates open and I’m pulled inside. I want to kick and scream, fight for dear life against this terrible sentence being thrust upon me, but what good would it do?

All the energy has been drained from me, and I’m nothing compared to the men at my sides. They could lift me over their heads with one arm just for a laugh.

They think I’m some kind of floozy, when in reality, I’m closer to a nun than a regular girl my age. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never even been on a date—Mom made sure of that. Then again, none of the boys at my high school were interested in me anyway.

<<<<1 2 3 11 >20

Advertisement Breaking the Thief Read Online Jenna Rose http://www.books2020.com/breaking-the-thief-read-online-jenna-rose Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:58 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/breaking-the-thief-read-online-jenna-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Novella, Taboo Authors: Jenna Rose Advertisement

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

I knew Chris was dangerous the moment he walked into my bookstore.

He moves quietly through rooms, studying them… Every door. Every window. Every exit.
But when he looks at me, that danger disappears.
He’s quiet. Protective. The kind of man who makes a shy bookstore girl feel safe in a world that suddenly feels too big.
Then I gave him a cup of coffee and I knew my life was about to change. What I didn’t know, was how dangerous that change would be.

Because Chris isn’t the man he pretends to be.
He’s a professional thief.
A man who’s spent eleven years robbing banks and disappearing without a trace. And the blueprints hidden in his closet prove tomorrow will be his biggest job yet.

I should run.
But when Chris looks at me, the ruthless criminal disappears, and the man underneath looks like he’d destroy anyone who tried to take me away.
Now I’m caught between two impossible choices:
Walk away from the only man I’ve ever loved…
Or trust the thief who stole my heart.

A human-written, addictive, instalove romance featuring a dangerous bank robber, an innocent bookstore girl, and a love worth risking everything for. No cheating, no cliffhangers—just obsession, protection, and a guaranteed HEA

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

1

AVERY

He’s here again.

Third Tuesday in a row. Same time, just after five when the light through the front windows of Worn Spines, the little bookstore where I work, turns amber.

He comes through the door with such confidence you barely even notice. Like this little bookshop on Fifth Avenue in Gaslamp is just another errand on his list. Only nothing about him says errand.

He radiates precision.

He oozes control.

I only notice him because he tries so hard not to be noticed. Plain khakis, black T-shirt, black shoes. Nothing flashy. Nothing fancy. But the way he moves through the store with his shoulders level, eyes scanning, aware of every bit of his surroundings—that’s not how normal people browse for books. That’s how someone walks through a space they’ve already mapped in their mind.

I’m standing behind the counter, pretending to organize the new arrivals display, but I’m really watching him. I’ve been watching him for three weeks now. Which sounds creepy, but I can’t stop myself.

Maybe it’s because I’m eighteen and he’s clearly much older than me. Or maybe it’s because I’m barely scraping by and he has his whole life under control. Maybe it’s because he’s mysterious.

Of course, it doesn’t help that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Not pretty-boy gorgeous. Not Instagram or TikTok gorgeous. He’s the kind of gorgeous that would make you cross the street away from him at night and then hate yourself for not having the guts to stay near him.

Slicked-back blond hair, well over six feet, a jaw that could have been carved from steel, and a muscular body that even his plain clothes can’t hide. The black T-shirt stretches over his shoulders and chest like it’s seconds from tearing. His arms are thick and veiny, and when he reached for a book last week, I caught the edge of something dark on his bicep. A tattoo. Just the tip of it, disappearing beneath the fabric like a secret.

I’ve been thinking about that tattoo for days, which is crazy. Because I don’t even know his name.

Today, he goes straight to the non-fiction section, pulls out a book like he knew it would be there, then takes a seat in the leather chair by the window like he owns it. He opens the book and starts reading.

Not skimming, not checking his phone. He’s focused.

I tilt my head discretely to read the spine from across the room.

Advanced Security Systems. Electricity, Sensors, and Design.

Interesting.

Not a self-help or a book on politics for this guy. A technical manual on security systems. The kind of thing someone might read if they were trying to get past them…

Stop it, Avery. He’s probably just an engineer or a guy in the field…who just so happens to look like he could snap someone’s neck without even raising his heart rate.

I should leave him alone. But I know I can’t. Quickly, I brew two cups of the shop coffee and walk over to him.

“Just a little light reading?” I say, stopping in front of his chair, holding out a mug for him. He just looks at it, then up at me.

And wow, he’s even more stunning up close. His eyes are ice blue, almost gray, and they beam into me with a focus that I can almost feel. I’m pinned in place. For a full second, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at me, my face, my hands holding the mugs. He’s reading me the way he reads rooms.

“Can I help you with something?” His voice is low. Flat. Not rude exactly, but impenetrable.

“I just brought you a coffee,” I say, holding out the mug. “Anyone sitting in this leather chair gets a free cup. It’s a rule I invented a couple minutes ago.”

Nothing. Not a smile, not even a twitch of the lips.

“I didn’t ask for a coffee.”

“I know, I just thought it would be a nice gesture…”

Something moves behind his eyes, like he’s calculating. Trying to figure out why I’m standing here. What I want. Whether or not I’m a threat.

Me. All five-foot-three of me in my two-year-old Converse and torn up jeans.

“Who sent you over here?” he asks.

“Sent me? Nobody sent me. I work here. Just trying to be friendly.” I glance at his book, trying to change the subject to something he’s more into. “You’re into security systems?”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow. He glances behind him, then looks back at me, squaring his shoulders. “What exactly is your interest in what I’m reading?”

I take a step back. The warmth I walked over with is swept away with something cold. Embarrassment. I drop my eyes. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. Have a nice day.”

I turn to leave, feeling deflated. After three weeks of wondering about this man, thirty seconds of conversation has told me everything I need to know. He’s rude, paranoid, and probably is the kind of person you would cross the street to avoid.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

Advertisement The Girlfriend Treatment Read Online Jessa Kane http://www.books2020.com/the-girlfriend-treatment-read-online-jessa-kane Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:55 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-girlfriend-treatment-read-online-jessa-kane Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Jessa Kane Advertisement

Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

Petra is not an escort—but she does answer the phones at one such agency. When she receives a call from a scarred veteran named Barry, he makes a request she never saw coming. He needs a date to his brother’s wedding in order to honor his elderly grandmother’s final wish to see him settled down. One problem? None of the other girls are available, leaving Petra, a mere receptionist with no dating experience, to pretend to be Barry’s girlfriend at the wedding. But when their attraction detonates on sight, what starts as pretend doesn’t stay that way long. After all, there’s only one bed…and their relationship is definitely the only thing being faked

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

one

Petra

The phone rings and I jolt, causing the perfect cat eye that I’m applying with electric-blue liquid liner to go crooked. Exhaling with a huff, I slump into the leather armchair and wrinkle my nose at the hollering landline. I am not cut out for this receptionist job, but I wasn’t exactly given a choice when it came to my employment, was I?

I am the youngest of five sisters.

The runt.

The brat.

The grunt.

An endless source of amusement to my four older sisters, each of whom owns a stake in Sweet Fleet: An Escort Agency, based just outside of good old Las Vegas.

They escort, while I schedule their dates from the safety of my boring air-conditioned office. And don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t rather be working in the field. No way. It is my goal in life to never be pawed by some garlic-breathed businessman in the high roller suite of the MGM. That life is not for me. Not that I’m judging.

But I’d rather be doing something else.

Petra Kowalski: Makeup Artist to the Stars.

Heck, I’d take a company of showgirls. I just want to work with makeup.

Anything to avoid answering this phone and having to hear the lecherous excitement in the voice of another client. But that’s what I get paid to do…and this call has been ringing a while, so I better answer.

While leaning forward and attempting to fix my smudged cat eye, I hit the button for speakerphone, since I’m alone in the office. “Good evening,” I say in a practiced, sultry tone. Have to create the right vibe, don’t I? “This is Sweet Fleet. What can we do for you?”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Then, finally, “Yeah. Hi.”

My eyes widen involuntarily, caught off guard by the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. Male. Gruff. Resonant. “Hello, sir. Are you calling to schedule a date?”

The sound of pacing commences on his end of the line. “Something like that.”

Uh oh.

This guy must be into something kinky, but he’s not ready to share any particulars. Maybe it’s just his first time pursuing a particular fetish and he’s shy talking about it? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened. It wouldn’t even be the first time this week.

I’m a virgin myself. But I’ve gotten quite an education sitting in this chair.

I probably know more about sex than any other virgin on planet earth.

“Sir, I’ve been working the phones for Sweet Fleet for a whole year. There is no kink this gal hasn’t heard about. Believe me. This is a judgment-free zone.”

His laugh is chagrined. Pleasant, too, oddly enough. “It’s not…a kink thing.”

Sure. “Oh.”

“I’ve just never done this before. I never thought I would.”

“I see.” I frown at my reflection in the makeup mirror. I’m used to first timers, as well, but there’s something different about this guy. He’s not eager and out of breath, the way most callers get when they’re arranging to meet an escort. “Why don’t we start with your name.”

“Right. Barry.”

“Barry,” I echo, adding a little coaxing to my tone, my finger winding around the curly phone cord. “What’s your idea of a perfect date?”

He’s quiet for a good five seconds. “Are you old enough to be taking these calls?”

I rear back, affronted. “What? I’m using my most seductive voice!”

He makes a skeptical sound. “I can still tell you’re young.”

“I’m nineteen, thank you very much.”

“Nineteen? Okay, I’m going to hang up now.”

“No! Wait!” I listen for the void of disconnection to hit my ear, but thankfully the quiet sound of him breathing is still there. “I only do the scheduling, Barry. Calm down.”

He laughs without humor. It turns into a sigh. “Look, I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask for. I have a unique situation.”

Relieved he’s talking again and I haven’t blown it with a client, I wake up my computer screen by wiggling the mouse. The color-coded calendar appears, along with our core offerings. “Well, we have a few different options. Why don’t I go over them with you? You can tell me if one of them fits the bill.”

“I highly doubt that’s going to happen.”

“You’ll be surprised.” I clear my throat. “First up, we have the Instant Gratification Package. That one has an hourly rate.” He’s a first timer, right? I should be extra clear, just so he doesn’t get confused. “You engage in sex—”

“I’ve got the picture.”

“That’s not what you’re looking for,” I surmise. “Okay. We have the Date Night Package. One of our girls is your companion for the whole evening. Take her to dinner, to a show. Even a work function. They are all excellent conversationalists and can adapt to any scenario. At the end of the night, sex is certainly on the table, but it’s an upcharge.”

Spoiler alert: they always request the upcharge.

“We’re getting warmer,” Barry says dryly. “Except for that last part.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

Advertisement Captivating Curse (Bellamy Brothers #9) Read Online Helen Hardt http://www.books2020.com/captivating-curse-bellamy-brothers-9-read-online-helen-hardt Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:54 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/captivating-curse-bellamy-brothers-9-read-online-helen-hardt Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Erotic, Suspense Authors: Helen Hardt Series: Bellamy Brothers Series by Helen Hardt
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >70

Enter a world of mystery, suspense, sin, and heart-wrenching emotion with Helen Hardt's Bellamy Brothers series!

She chooses sacrifice over survival.

He will damn himself to bring her back.

Daniela Agudelo has spent her life paying for the sins of men who believed they owned her. This time, the choice is hers, and it’s the most dangerous one yet. To save an innocent child she loves, Daniela offers the one thing she swore no one would ever take from her again.

Hawk Bellamy refuses to let her disappear.

As Daniela vanishes into the jaws of her past, Hawk risks his fortune, his freedom, and the carefully controlled life he’s built to find her. Every secret he uncovers drags him deeper into a truth he’s spent his life denying—his father’s legacy isn’t clean, and the darkness threatening Daniela may be rooted in his own blood.

Daniela already knows what she’s willing to sacrifice. Now Hawk must choose what he’s willing to destroy to save her

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

PROLOGUE

HAWK

Eagle nods once, heavy, as the sedative crawls up his veins. “Outside your door,” he whispers. “The night I…went down.” His lashes flutter. “Somebody didn’t want me telling you what I found out about Dad…”

Everything inside me goes still. “What about Dad?”

“Dad and…” His tongue trips. “D—D—D…” The syllables stumble, break apart. His eyes roll, slow as tide. He tries again. “D⁠—”

The last consonant dies on his lips. His mouth softens. The sedative wins.

I turn to the nurse. “Is he okay?”

The nurse is already smoothing the line, already changing the monitor range. “He’s fine,” she says. “He needs sleep. His body’s been through a lot. He’ll likely be out the rest of the night.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “You can come back in the morning.”

“Yeah,” I say, though morning feels a lifetime away. “I’ll do that.”

Falcon watches me from the door.

“I’ve got something to attend to,” I tell him.

“Reyes.”

I nod.

The hallway feels too bright.

I take the elevator down, grab my car from the valet.

The night outside feels wrong, air thick and wet. I drive with my knuckles raw from earlier, the bandage already spotted through.

The drive is slow and dark, but I finally make it.

The old barn crouches on the edge of our land. No lights. No sounds but crickets.

I kill the engine and listen. Nothing. Good. I want quiet.

Gravel crunches under my boots. The barn door gives with a long, complaining groan.

My eyes adjust quickly.

The chair.

My skin crawls with tiny invisible feet.

What the fuck?

The chair waits where I left it.

Empty.

For a second my brain refuses to believe what my eyes are seeing. The shape is wrong. That’s all. Reyes is slumped. Head down. I step closer.

The rope is cut. The rag I used to gag him in a heap on the ground.

I go cold and hot at once.

“Reyes,” I say into the dark.

Silence answers.

I cross to the stool where I left the plate. The fork sits on top and the plate is licked clean. He ate every bite.

Something glints at the base of the post. I crouch. A sliver of metal.

Fuck. It’s half a hacksaw blade. Where the hell did he get that?

I follow the scrape marks to the side door. Outside, weeds bend in two lines to the service path. Not footsteps. Knees. He crawled, or someone dragged him. The tracks vanish in the gravel.

My skin prickles.

I scan the rafters. The beams.

Nothing.

Motherfucker.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. No bars. I step toward the big doors. One bar. Then none.

He was tied. He was gagged. He was mine. And now he’s air.

Eagle’s voice punches through my head, slurred and stubborn. Outside your door. Didn’t want me telling you what I found about Dad… D-D-D…

Dad and what. Dad and who. Dad and D.

The barn tilts.

If Reyes is out, he’s either running or hunting. Maybe both. If he’s running, he goes home, grabs the diary, burns the pictures, resets the board before I can move. If he’s hunting⁠—

No.

I replay every knot I tied. Every check. Every lock. There’s a gap I didn’t see. There has to be.

I walk the perimeter again, slow this time, eyes on small things. I inhale.

Something hits me.

Motor oil?

No. Almost like soap, but stronger.

Fuck.

Cheap aftershave.

The same ghost Eagle muttered about through meds. Aftershave in a garage somewhere. A smell that doesn’t belong to my barn or to Reyes.

He didn’t get out alone.

My mouth goes dry.

My phone vibrates. I yank it out. One bar now.

A new text from a number I don’t recognize.

It’s a photo. Grainy. It’s the barn. Two figures. One slumped, one upright. A third shape in the foreground—just the hint of a shoulder. Whoever took it is almost in the frame.

Under it is a message.

Nice knots, Bellamy. Try harder.

My pulse goes flat. I lift my head into the dark and grin without humor.

“You want to play?” I say to the ghost of cheap aftershave riding the night air. “Okay.”

A second buzz. Another photo pops up. Close-up this time. Reyes’s wrist, chafed and bleeding, hand giving the camera a lazy thumbs-up. On his ring finger, a smear of something darker than dirt.

And then a third—a shot of a safe keypad. Not mine. Not his. Looks like a stock image. Just numbers lit in cold blue. The code fields blank. The caption under it:

Tick-tock.

The screen goes black.

I stand in the doorway of the barn, fists opening and closing, knuckles burning under old blood and new.

Eagle’s last stuttered syllable scrapes through me again. D—D—D⁠—

Dad and who?

Reyes is gone.

Then I see them.

More texts.

From Daniela, sent hours ago.

Belinda is missing. DHS revoked her temporary protected status.

This quickly? What the fuck?

My breath catches in my throat.

I stopped being the good son. I embraced chaos, did what felt right in the moment.

Pandora’s box has been opened, and that same chaos has now cursed everything I touch.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >70

Advertisement Meet Cute the Hitman Read Online Lucy Darling http://www.books2020.com/meet-cute-the-hitman-read-online-lucy-darling Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:52 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/meet-cute-the-hitman-read-online-lucy-darling Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Lucy Darling Advertisement

Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

What happens when a recluse heiress hops into the wrong car that belongs to the hitman that's been searching for her? Glitter, tiaras and bullets fly.

Killian's whole hitman life is spun into chaos when a quirky, innocent heiress with a head full of rainbows and unicorns hops into his car, mistaking him for her driver. He was sent to find her, and she fell right into his lap wielding a lightsaber and wearing a crown of real jewels. She has a knack for doing that. New mission: keep the girl alive and kill anyone who tries to dampen the sunshine she gives the world. She is, after all, his Zolotse.

Teddy has luck on her side when all her planned sneaky adventures start to crumble away. The luck comes in the form of a sexy Russian tatted driver that is three times her size. He may appear intimidating, but he's the sweetest man she's ever met. When her flight gets cancelled, Killian is there to save the day! He has a knack for that. How lucky can one girl get? New mission: have the adventure of a lifetime with the most handsome man she has ever met. He is, after all, her sweetheart.

"Meet-Cute the Hitman" weaves humor and heart in a story where love and danger collide, leaving readers wondering if love can truly conquer all

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

Chapter One

TEDDY

Iimpatiently wait for my best friend to come online. Okay, she might be my only friend under the age of sixty, but that’s beside the point. This is the one time of day she can always be online. The man who keeps her trapped is going out for a few hours. He has the same routine every day. Where he goes, we don’t have a clue, but one day, I’ll figure it out. It is my new mission, my first really, but you gotta start somewhere.

I perk up when I see the little green light flick on, telling me that she's online. Quickly I put my headphones on and make sure that I’m connected. Roland sets a Shirley Temple down next to me with extra cherries. My absolute favorite, but he says I call everything my favorite.

What? Can't a girl love a lot of things?

"Do you need anything else?" he asks.

I hadn't even asked for the drink, but I swear Roland can read my mind at times. He's been in my life since before I could really remember, having worked for my grandmother for decades. I suppose now he works for me, but it's strange to think that. Also sad at times because it’s a reminder that I’m on my own now. Roland is the closest thing to family I have left.

"I'm good, but thank you," I tell him.

Roland gives a stiff nod before turning to leave. He lives on the estate, and we never have guests except for staff, but still he insists on wearing that butler suit outfit thingy. It appears too stuffy to me, but I’m not the one who has to wear it.

I should zip it on the topic. I'm not one to talk. I never go anywhere, but every day I get up and get ready like I'm going to a tea party. It’s a habit I formed with my grandma, and now I love it. Just like my Shirley Temple. I take a giant sip of it.

"I'm here." Lily's voice comes through the headphones. "He lingered today." I know the he she’s speaking of is her guardian, Tristan.

"What do you mean?" I ask in a low whisper. "Is he on to us?"

"I don't believe so. He mentioned a trip he has to go on for work."

"Really?" That might actually be rather helpful for us.

Tristan does travel often for work. At least that's what he tells Lily. She checked his calendar one day when she snuck into his office but didn't see any trips scheduled. We wanted to line up our secret plan with one of them, but nothing had been on the calendar in the following months. That was actually more abnormal than anything.

"He said it was last minute, and he'll give me more details later, but I think we're still good to go."

I puff out a breath. "Either way, I can hang around until we can strike."

"Strike?" Lily laughs. Strike her up an escape plan.

Lily can never go anywhere without a bodyguard. Tristan believes danger is around every corner. He takes her care to a whole other level. It’s truly insane.

Tristan had taken over as Lily’s guardian a few years back when her parents died. She came home for the funeral, having been away at school. Lily is always away, or she was when she was still in school.

It's how we met. Years ago, we both participated in a summer program and maintained constant contact. I hated the program. It was about etiquette. It was to train you for high society. My grandmother was more trying to get me out of the house. I'd been excited at first, but it ended up the same as school had, an awful experience that I never wanted to repeat.

I was always the target for bullying. School was miserable, and it also took almost an hour to get to, which is why Grandma had taken me out and hired tutors. When I'd gone to the summer program, it was more of the same until Lily stepped in. She wouldn't let anyone pick on me. Lily might be tiny, but she's got the mouth of a sailor and the audacity of a man. That’s what Grams would say when she’d hear her over my headphones.

This time it's my turn to save her from being locked away in the gilded tower Tristan has put her in. Sure, it's not a total jail, but there isn't much of an option for her, and honestly, Lily believes if she does push back, Tristan would put a lock on it. That's why it's better we just go ahead with our plan and then deal with the fallout. Then she will be back here with me.

Lily might live in the elite society world, but she doesn’t have access to money. That’s where I come in. Apparently, I’m loaded. When my grandma passed away a few months ago, I was left with everything. Though I’d give it all back to have her instead.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Advertisement Step-Kink (Wanting What’s Wrong #11) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:51 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Forbidden, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >38

He has the face of my father, but his hands are all his.
Rye McAllister is my dad's twin brother. He took me to my first thrift store, named a bonsai tree after me, and was always there at Sunday brunch.

Now Dad's in rehab, Mom’s a mess, I have the tryout of a lifetime coming up, and Rye's sleeping down the hall as my stand-in father figure.

And I am not okay.

When my friends drag me to a bachelorette weekend, I’m expecting chocolate dildos and too much tequila, not a private kink club for Truth or Dare night. And, because God hates me specifically, guess who’s there? Uncle Rye.

Things go from awkward to holy sh*t when he slaps a collar on my neck and takes all my dares for himself.
So, what do I do? I bolt. Because I’m the good girl that holds the family together by being, well… perfect.
The McAllister Clan is coming apart. But will love be enough to put the pieces back together?

Author's This filthy little bachelorette-gone-wrong features a 6'5" step-uncle with his twin brother's face and an obsession with a sweet, tiny dancer that is 100% off limits. Safe, no cheating, with a hero who tracks her iPhone like a love language. He looks like her dad, but being her Daddy is what he was born for

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

CHAPTER 1

Elodie

How am I going to spend two weeks in the same house with the man I can't stop thinking about? A man who, incidentally, looks exactly like my father?

It's just so wrong.

Here I am, scrolling through my phone, looking at pictures of my Uncle Rye, while my mother packs her bag to go visit my father across the country in rehab.

A little bead of sweat trickles down my chest, making me shiver as April sun streams through the kitchen window.

"Rye will be here tonight,” she says as she fidgets with the tag on her Coach bag making sure the logo is clearly visible. “Most people can't tell the difference between him and your father. He'll come and go, just like your dad does. He'll drive the minivan. Just don't let any of the neighbors get too nosy, and don't mention what's going on to anyone. Elodie, are you listening?"

Blood rushes to my face, and I turn my phone face down on the granite island.

“I’m listening,” I say, receiving a doubtful frown in response. “Uncle Rye will be pretending to be Dad. Got it.”

“Perhaps you should call him Dad at all times while he’s here. What do they call it, method acting?”

I nod ignoring the rush of dampness that seeps from my body thinking of sleeping a wall away from my uncle for two weeks. “Got it. I’ll call him Dad.”

I bet Dad fucks like a beast.

All that calm control has to have an outlet right? God, I wonder if he will be jerking off while he’s here? The vision has my feminine parts clenching. My nipples are achy and sensitive and my clit is ten kinds of demanding right now.

Rye could melt most frigid women’s resolve into a steaming puddle of wanton desire with those spooky greenish gold eyes of his and the way he moves through life with a confidence that makes you want to put him between you and all the terrible things in the world. I tell myself it’s just infatuation build on the quiet attention he’s given me since I was five years old.

But, every time I see him, it’s like the air disappears. I want to reach down and rub away the tension he creates between my legs.

I know nothing of men in that way really except what Anna and Jeremy my besties from grade school tell me. But there are things built into our DNA we cannot control. Desire and want. God, so much want.

My mother offers a thin smile and I return one in my practiced, polished perfect daughter manner.

Image is everything to my mother. She won Miss Michigan, after all, and her own mother was first runner-up in the Miss USA pageant, 1952, or whatever year it was.

“No fast food,” she says checking her lipstick in the glassy front of the wall oven. “I mean it, Elodie, don’t let Rye lead you astray. You’re doing so well on this diet, I don’t want to lose our progress. Remember that Sophia said their only doubt about you is that you’ve…filled out a bit more than is normally acceptable for a principal dancer.”

I click my molars together on another forced smile. “Got it. No fast food. I promise.”

She turns to open a cupboard and take yet another count of the diet shakes stacked in there, and I take the opportunity for another peek at my phone.

I tap on my photo files, then another tap to the hidden file I keep.

The latest snapshot of Uncle Rye pops up first from last month's performance of Swan Lake, where he brought me five dozen white roses. The picture is him standing next to me as I struggle to hold up what felt like fifty pounds of floral bliss.

“You have enough Opti-Cal to last two weeks. Weigh in when you first get up after you pee, then again right before bed. The app will log it and I’ll check it while I’m gone. Remember, accountability keeps us honest. God help me, if that man ruins all the work we’ve done—”

"Everything will be okay, Mom. Just take care of Dad."

Two years ago, I put on five pounds during spring break, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. Mom blames Uncle Rye because he insisted that I could share his Chinese take-out when he came to visit, just a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday. He ordered enough for six, and I pigged out but I also took on an extra two hour practice every day because there was no school, so I’m not sure if the five pounds was from the fried rice, or just a little water weight from an overload of msg and sodium.

I’m six pounds lighter than I was then and Mom is happier with things this way.

And honestly? When Mom’s happy, my life is a heck of a lot easier.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >38

Advertisement This Kingdom Will Not Kill Me (Maggie the Undying #1) Read Online Ilona Andrews http://www.books2020.com/this-kingdom-will-not-kill-me-maggie-the-undying-1-read-online-ilona-andrews Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:49 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/this-kingdom-will-not-kill-me-maggie-the-undying-1-read-online-ilona-andrews Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Ilona Andrews Series: Maggie the Undying Series by Ilona Andrews
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >222

Outlander meets Game of Thrones in this blockbuster new epic fantasy series from the #1 New York Times bestselling author duo Ilona Andrews.

When Maggie wakes up cold, filthy, and naked in a gutter, it doesn't take her long to recognize Kair Toren, a city she knows intimately from the pages of the famously unfinished dark fantasy series she's been obsessively reading and re-reading while waiting years for the final novel.

Her only tools for navigating this gritty world of rival warlords, magic, and mayhem? Her encyclopedic knowledge of the plot, the setting, and the characters' ambitions and fates. But while she quickly discovers she cannot be killed (though many will try!), the same cannot be said for the living, breathing characters she's coming to love—a motley band that includes a former lady’s maid, a deadly assassin, various outrageous magical creatures, and a dangerously appealing soldier. Soon, instead of trying to get home, she finds herself enmeshed in the schemes—and attentions—of dueling princes, dukes, and villains, all while trying to save them and the kingdom of Rellas from the way she knows their stories will end: in a cataclysmic war

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

PART 1

BAG OF MONEY

CHAPTER 1

MONTH OF PLANTER, DAY 6

Rain drenched the city, cold and relentless. It leached all color from the medieval-looking buildings, turning the world gray and soaking through the filthy rag in which I had swaddled myself. The sour stench rising from the grimy folds was truly epic. I couldn’t feel my toes, and my fingers were going numb.

The three-story buildings towered over the alley like the walls of a stone canyon, boxing me in. Sometime between yesterday evening and this morning, my stomach had turned into a painful bottomless pit. I hadn’t eaten in three days. I wasn’t even shivering anymore. My body didn’t have the energy.

I checked on my rock again. It lay in a puddle by my feet, a cream-colored chunk of building stone about the size of a large grapefruit. Any bigger, and it would be too hard to grip with one hand. I had found it this morning and carried it through the rain for two hours until I found the right bridge.

The rock was still there. I touched it with my foot to make sure. It felt solid and real.

I peeled myself from the wall and leaned a little to glance out of the alley. In front of me a narrow stone bridge spanned the width of a rain-swollen river. Another wall of medieval buildings loomed on the other side. Behind them, a tower soared, a spire rising at least six hundred feet, silhouetted against the storm-choked sky and topped by a huge flower of translucent, milky glass. The flower’s petals were shut into a bud, guarding the observation deck in its center from the storm. Every few seconds, bright gold sparks dashed through the enchanted glass.

A dozen dark shapes circled the flower, surfing the wild air currents. My brain expected them to be birds, but birds had only one pair of wings, not two. The feeling of wrongness was overwhelming.

Yep, the Mage Tower and the strange bird-things were still there, too.

I huddled against the wall.

I couldn’t touch the Mage Tower, but I knew it was real. For one, I had pictured it differently. In my head it was a flawless pale needle, elegant and almost dainty. If this had been a hallucination, what I saw would’ve matched the vision in my head, but the reality was nothing like that. This tower jutted up, defiant, its walls worn but strong, as if it had grown from bedrock. And it felt old. Like it had stood there for thousands of years and would stand just like that for another millennium, timeless and indifferent, while the city around it crumbled into dust, rebuilt, and crumbled again.

No, it was real, like this endless rain, like the pain in my freezing bare feet, and like the gnawing ache in my stomach.

In the distance, a bell tolled four times. Four pm.

It wouldn’t be too long now.

To say that this was not the way I envisioned spending my Sunday would be a criminal understatement. Today would’ve been my one day off. I should’ve spent it watching Netflix, nibbling on a pizza, and reading while lounging on my couch in my tiny apartment, in my soft sweatpants, warm and dry. Not wrapped in a dirty rag, shivering in a grimy alley, while the sky dumped gallons of cold rain on my head.

I wasn’t a big reader through most of my childhood, but when I was sixteen, my first serious boyfriend broke up with me, and it was hell. My brain kept rehashing every moment of the relationship in excruciating detail. One afternoon, as I lay on my bed, wallowing in self-pity, my mom handed me a thick fantasy book, and when I turned my nose up at it, she told me, “Maggie, you need to live in someone else’s head for a bit.”

I’d thought I would read a few pages. When I came up for air, five hours later, my breakup was an afterthought. Some seriously messed-up stuff happened on the first page, and I had to find out how it turned out. Somehow by the end of those five hours, the book had wrung me dry. I could deal with life again.

I’d tried every genre under the sun since, but fantasy was my vice of choice. There was something about blades and magic that did it for me. Deadly sword-masters, thieves prowling through moonlit streets, dark magicians, warrior princesses, ruthless nobles, majestic dragons, hideous monsters, I loved it all. Put a hot dude in armor with a sword on the cover, and my eyes glazed over while my hand crept to the buy button, budget be damned.

I had read enough fantasy books to fill a library, but that very first series was my special treasure. Set in the city of Kair Toren, capital of the kingdom of Rellas, the story revolved around the power struggles of eight noble families, and it was so full of fantasy tropes, it would be clichéd except that the superb writing moved it right past stereotypical into classic. The characters felt so real, they practically jumped off the page.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >222

Advertisement The Fire Bride (Kings of Fury #3) Read Online Gena Showalter http://www.books2020.com/the-fire-bride-kings-of-fury-3-read-online-gena-showalter Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:46 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-fire-bride-kings-of-fury-3-read-online-gena-showalter Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Suspense Authors: Gena Showalter Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >74

She has burned through lifetimes alone.
In the hidden realm of Ashmorra, immortal berserkatrix Olyssa Drachenveil, Queen of Dragons, has spent centuries bound to a cruel grant eternal life to a mortal firebrand in the heat of her flames or watch him perish. But any man she’s ignited has died screaming. She’s vowed never to test another.

He must survive her fire.
Taron Locke, brilliant historian and secret dragon slayer, has spent his life preparing to end the creature who murdered his father. A legend cloaked in beauty and ruin. When he summons her with ancient chains, he intends to end her reign, not fall under her spell. But the moment they meet, everything combusts. A battle. A bond. A kiss that could burn an empire to ash.

In war, desire is the most dangerous blaze.
As ancient enemies rise and Olyssa’s crown—and heart—hang in the balance, she must decide whether to defy destiny or surrender to it. And Taron must destroy the queen he was born to hate… or become the firebrand destined to love her for eternity

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

Prologue

Hear now the tragedy of the Dragon Queen.

Once upon a time, in the age when dragon-berserkers carved kingdoms from flame, Olyssa Drachenveil was born in fire and fury, her heart sealed in ice, her destiny already written.

Her fated firebrand she must burn: immortality in her flames, or ash with no return.

For Olyssa, love equaled loss. She’d buried friends and family alike and feared losing another. So she did what dragons do best: she hardened. Leading raids beside her father, the Dragon King of Ashmorra, she helped steal treasure and thrones with abandon but no remorse.

Until she came upon Leopold Locke, a mortal man with iron chains and endless courage. The only villager to stand his ground when dragon armies darkened his skies.

With cunning traps and surprising strength, he did the impossible. He imprisoned the storm-eyed princess.

Somewhere between their battles and bargains, the line between captor and captive blurred. Hatred turned to heat, heat to hunger and hunger to love. He taught Olyssa to build rather than destroy. She showed him the joy of life beyond survival.

But as soon as her father’s war ended, Olyssa and Leopold’s newfound love faced an unbearable choice. Let him remain mortal and lose each other to time. Or forge him immortal in her flames, risking everything to spend eternity together.

He chose the fire. Love.

Olyssa agreed to test him, even as doubt flickered. But hope quickly smothered doubt, for an ancient myth foretold of a great phoenix warrior, pure of heart, rising among the dragons. A tale, she was sure, that spoke of Leopold.

She unleashed. He burned.

But he did not rise again.

His ashes scattered in the wind, and Olyssa’s scream split the heavens. Fueled by rage and blame, Leopold’s brothers struck, binding her in the very chains her sweet Leo had once freed her from. In her grief, she let them do it.

Weeks passed, her constant flow of tears seeping into the metal, igniting a second curse. From that day forth, the Chains of Olyssa would call to her whenever worn, forcing her to test the wearer in her fire. Immortality or ashes.

Ignorant of this, she left the shackles behind when at last she escaped. The Lockes, however, kept them, plotting, waiting, vowing that a son of their line would one day be her undoing. But as she rose in rank, becoming leader of the dragons, generations of Lockes withered while others bloomed, their hatred slowly curdling into something worse. A hunger for the very immortality Leopold had not gained.

Each time a Locke chained himself in the mystical bonds, he summoned the Queen of Dragons. Each time she came. And each time, she burned him to ash in her flame.

Centuries ticked on. The world changed. Olyssa endured, her heart hollowed by regret and sorrow.

Today, only one Locke remains. And unlike those before him, he doesn’t seek immortality.

He seeks her end.

When the Chains call once again, will the Dragon Queen’s heart be mended at last… or broken beyond even her fire?

Chapter

One

A well-trained human smells slightly singed. In other words: Perfect.

-Humaning for Beginners: A Dragon’s Tale of Human Management

Disaster had a flair for theatrics, and I was currently its reluctant star.

First, my father had clawed back from the death I’d dealt him centuries ago. Then, three of my best warriors vanished without a trace. Most recently? Someone spotted a human creeping around my realm. Not once, not twice, but thrice. He’d picked fights with my dragons—and won. He’d also pocketed things that didn’t belong to him, successfully avoiding traps I’d set.

I glanced at a shelf on my wall, where my favorite teacup used to rest. My hands balled.

How was he doing this? It should be impossible.

Although there were legends of rare tools able to safely whisk humans between worlds. What if he’d found one?

At least I didn’t have to wonder about his identity. “Professor Taron Locke,” I muttered into the wind, as if speaking his name might summon him, allowing me to deal with the problem at last.

Nope. He didn’t appear.

I stood on the edge of my personal balcony, the highest point of Castle Ashmorra. No rail separated the ledge from the ether; when you could fly, you didn’t need one. A light breeze perfumed with linden blossoms and wild chamomile tugged strands of hair free from a myriad of pins. The crimson hue blended with the sunrise until it looked as if my entire body might ignite in soft fire. The illusion strengthened as the hem of my scarlet gown danced at my ankles.

I scanned my queendom, a dimension stitched like the finest silk to the human world. Below me, molten spires and ancient ruins coiled together in a symphony of gold. Crystalline rivers wound through obsidian meadows that bloomed year-round with violet emberlilies and white ashorchids. Berserkers trained on a soot-streaked field dotted with mist-veiled ghost trees. Mothers and children swam in a lake the same color as skyglass, while twin suns rose in a slow, simmering dawn, casting streaks of lavender across an expanse of dark blue.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >74