The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Mon, 13 Feb 2017 01:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Consent Read Online Charmaine Pauls (Loan Shark Duet #2) http://www.books2020.com/consent-2-read-online-charmaine-pauls Mon, 13 Feb 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/consent-2-read-online-charmaine-pauls Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Consent (The Loan Shark Duet #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Charmaine Pauls
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
9782956103110
Book Information:

When Gabriel broke down my door, he took over my body and life. Never with force, but always with clever manipulation. He stripped me of my independence, my defenses, and my clothes and turned me into an addict for his touch.

Once, I had dreams and a future. Now, I have fears, scars, and insatiable needs. I’m damaged beyond repair, but if I’m to survive the most dangerous man in Johannesburg, I can’t allow him to break me, because broken toys are destined for the garbage dump.
Books in Series:

The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls
Books by Author:

Charmaine Pauls Books


1

Valentina

A baby.

I’m going to have Gabriel Louw’s baby.

Gabriel Louw.

The most dangerous man in Johannesburg.

Oh, God.

I clutch a hand over my mouth to silence a sob and place the other over my stomach where our child is growing.

While the taxi takes me farther and farther away from my captor on my impulsive escape route, my mind reels with a thousand thoughts. How did this happen? Did I forget to take my pill? I’m sure I took it every day at the same time. I even have an alarm programmed on my phone. Did I slip up? How? When? I haven’t taken any medicine that could’ve interfered with the contraceptive.

For the life of me, I can’t think of an explanation. My rational mind, the part of me in denial, demands that I find proof that the pregnancy test is wrong, but my gut knows otherwise. The knowledge pounds in my ribs.

I’m pregnant.

And alone.

I have little money, no job, and I’m running from Gabriel Louw.

I’m in so much trouble. Now is not the time to figure out what went wrong. I need to think of how I’m going to stay alive.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks.

When Gabriel finds out I’m missing, he’ll go after my brother. I give the driver Kris’ address and sink back in the seat, nauseous from fear.

He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Everything all right?”

I lower my hand from my mouth and grip the door handle. I need to hold on to something. “I’m fine, thank you.”

It feels like forever before we pull up at the clinic. I ask the driver to keep the meter running and skirt around to the back of the house where I won’t be visible from any of the clinic windows. I try the kitchen door, but it’s locked. I knock softly.

Please, Charlie, hurry.

For several painful heartbeats, nothing happens.

Biting my nail, I run from window to window until I spot Charlie. He’s sitting on his bed, reading a comic book. I tap on the glass. The last thing I want is to scare him by pounding on the window. No reaction. I knock harder. I can’t afford to attract Kris’ attention. In the meantime, the taximeter is running a hole into the small amount of cash I have on me.

Tap, tap.

Finally, Charlie looks up. When he sees me, he calls out, “Va–Val.”

I motion for him to be quiet with my finger on my lips and point at the window latch. Instead of opening it, Charlie hops from the bed and leaves the room.

Don’t call Kris.

A moment later, the backdoor opens, and my brother steps out.

Beyond relief, I want to pull him into my arms and tell him we’re going to be all right, but I have to act normal.

“Surprise, Charlie,” I whisper. “I came to fetch you. We’re going on a holiday, but you have to come quietly.”

“Q–quiet,” he whispers back, mimicking my earlier gesture with a finger on his lips.

There’s no time to go through the house and gather some of his things. I lock up so Kris will be safe inside and throw the key through the bars of the open bathroom window. Hooking my arm through Charlie’s, I lead him to the waiting taxi.

Inside, the driver and Charlie speak simultaneously.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Where are we go–going?”

Where are we going?

Where can I run to where Gabriel won’t find me? A place like that doesn’t exist. If I’m to keep my wits about me, I have to ignore that notion. I’m no longer responsible for only Charlie and myself, but also for a third life. I have no plan of action. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Think, Valentina. Think.

“Ma’am, where to?” the driver repeats, more impatient now.

I can’t afford a plane or bus ticket to anywhere for myself, let alone for two people. There’s only one option left. Wherever we’re going, I’ll have to drive.

“Ma’am?” The man turns in his seat and gives me a piercing look. “Is everything all right back there?”

“Yes. We’re going to Berea.”

He regards me from under his bushy eyebrows and says with a hint of disbelief, “Berea. You sure?”

“Just drive. I’ll give you directions.”

He holds my eyes for another moment before turning back to the front and pulling away from the curb. I exhale in relief, and squeeze Charlie’s hand to reassure him, happy that Kris hadn’t seen us. Charlie has wound down his window and is staring at the buildings that whiz past, oblivious to the lump of concrete in my stomach and the maddening fear pumping through my veins.

I send a quick text message to Kris so she won’t worry when she finds Charlie gone.

Charlie and I have to leave for a while. Sorry to sneak off like this, but the less you know the better. Thank you for always being a friend. Love you.


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Dubious Read Online Charmaine Pauls (Loan Shark Duet #1) http://www.books2020.com/dubious-1-read-online-charmaine-pauls Fri, 20 Jan 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/dubious-1-read-online-charmaine-pauls Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
<<<<1231121>110
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Dubious (The Loan Shark Duet #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Charmaine Pauls
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
9782956103103
Book Information:

How far will a man go to get the woman he wants?

I’m a loan shark. Breaking people runs in my blood. The Haynes’ were supposed to be a straightforward job. Go in and pull the trigger twice. One bullet for Charlie, one for his sister. But when I saw Valentina, I wanted her. Only, in our world those who owe us don’t get second chances. No way in hell will my mother let her live. So I devised a plan to keep her.

It’s depraved. It’s immoral. It’s dubious. It’s perfect. Just like her.
Books in Series:

The Loan Shark Duet Series by Charmaine Pauls
Books by Author:

Charmaine Pauls Books


1

Valentina

I never take the yellow glow of a light bulb or the blue staccato flicker of the television screen for granted. Looking for signs of life is an ingrained habit for people like me, people who live in fear. Already from the corner, I strain my neck to look at our floor. Then I stop dead. The rectangle of our window stares down at me. Black. Dark.

Oh, my God.

Charlie!

My palms turn clammy. I wipe them on my tunic and sprint up the remaining stairs to the second floor, almost tripping on the last step. A jerk on the handle confirms the door is locked. Thank God. Someone didn’t break in, attack Charlie, and leave him for dead. I drop my keys twice before I fit them in the lock. From inside, Puff starts barking.

The damn lock mechanism resists. One of these days, the flimsy nickel is going to break off in the door. I force until the key turns. In my rush to get inside, I stumble over Puff who runs out to greet me. He scurries away with a yelp and his tail between his legs.

The darkness is menacing. Flicking on the lights doesn’t expel the emptiness or the sick feeling pushing up in my throat. A hollowness settles in my chest as I take in the bowl of half eaten Rice Krispies and the glass of milk on the table.

“Charlie!”

Even if I know what I’ll find, I run to the bathroom.

No one.

“Dammit.”

Leaning on the wall, I cover my eyes and allow myself one second to gather strength. Something wet and warm touches my calf. Puff stares at me with his hopeful, sad eyes, his tail wagging in blissful ignorance.

“It’s all right, baby.” I pet his wiry hair, needing the reassurance of his warm little body more than he needs my caress.

Lightning rips through the sky, the sound lashing out a beat later. I close the curtains. Puff hates thunderstorms. After feeding him, I lock up and knock next door, but, like ours, Jerry’s flat is dark.

Damn him. Jerry promised me.

It’s a wild guess, but I’m betting on Napoli’s being Jerry’s favorite hangout. It’s the only place he ever goes.

The rickety framework clangs under my trainers as I charge down the two flights of stairs. It’s after eight. Having a car thief as a neighbor keeps me protected to an extent, but only from criminals lower in the hierarchy than Jerry. There are the drug dealers, mafia, and gangs to be reckoned with. I remain alert as I go, checking the abandoned houses, parked cars, and alleys. Staying under the streetlights, at least the ones not broken, I walk like my mom taught me––like I’m not a victim.

The brewing storm dissolves, taking with it the rain that would’ve washed away the neighborhood’s stench and soot. It’s summer, but the smoke from the cooking fires gives the Johannesburg air a thick, wintry smell as I cross from Berea into Hillbrow. Most buildings in Hillbrow no longer have electricity. When crime took over, people who could afford municipal services moved to the suburbs, turning the city center into a ghost town. Shortly after, the homeless and others with more sinister goals invaded the deserted skyscrapers. The door and windowless buildings look like skulls with empty sockets and gaping mouths. Doors have long since been used for firewood. What is left is the carcass of a city. The vultures have picked the meat off the bones, and now there are only the scavengers who prey on each other, and if I’m lucky tonight, not on me.

The walk to Napoli’s takes almost forty-five minutes. I’m scared, and my legs ache from standing in the veterinary clinic all day, but worry over my brother outweighs fear and exhaustion. By the time I get to the club, I’m close to collapsing. It’s not the first time Charlie has disappeared. From experience, I know the police won’t help. They have their hands full with murder cases and so many missing persons they don’t have enough space on milk cartons to post everyone. Anyway, most of them are corrupt. I’ll more likely get gang-raped by officials in a police cell than get assistance. I have to find my brother myself.

A group of teenagers in dirty vests sniffing glue at the corner shout insults.

The tallest climbs to his feet, his skin shiny with perspiration and the whites of his eyes like saucers. “Yo, white bitch. What ya doin’ on my block?”

“Hey!” A meaty bouncer in a T-shirt with a Napoli’s logo shuts them up with a look.

The bouncer doesn’t stop me when I push through the entrance, but I feel his eyes burn at the back of my head as I walk down the black-painted corridor into the brightly lit interior. A song from a local rave-rock band blares from oversized speakers. The walls are covered in street art, the day-glo colors popping off the bricks under the fluorescent lights. The club smells of poppers and disco machine smoke. There’s every kind of generalization inside, from the dark-suited Portuguese to the gold-chained Nigerians. Half-naked women do the rounds, most of them looking spaced out.


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