I watched Ryan die. So how is Ben wearing his face? Six years ago, I watched my best friend--and secret crush--splatter all over the pavement. He died. I saw him. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've never stopped looking for him. Seeing him in crowds, in the classroom, in my dreams--and my nightmares. It's cost me everything--my identity, my sanity, and maybe my life. So when I walk into class to see a man who looks exactly like Ryan standing before me, I freak out again. My therapist tells me to stay away from Ben. He's no good for me. I'll end up back in a padded room. But I have to know the truth. Is Ben really Ryan? That's not possible. But Ben has scars--real ones and metaphorical ones. If Ben is Ryan, why doesn't he just tell me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? Or worse--is he trying to kill me? The Boy Who Died is the first romantic suspense novel from bestselling romantacy author Bella Moondragon writing as B. Moon. If you love romantic suspense, are a fan of Colleen Hoover, Gillian Flynn, Christopher Greyson, or Paula Hawkins, you won't want to miss this page-turner!
Marcie
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and step out of my apartment onto the sunny breezeway outside. Early September in Virginia retains most of the heat of summer, so I wipe instant sweat off my forehead before my brown curls can catch in it. This semester is going to be different. That means not showing up looking like a drowned rat, even if I doubt anyone in my photography elective is going to care.
Birds sing as I lock the door then test the knob to make sure it actually locked. A voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like Dana, my therapist, reminds me I'm not supposed to be indulging those instincts. I'm safe here. The only person I've been in danger from since setting foot on the campus of Ardent University is myself, and she's getting out of my way this year. I unlock the door, lock it again, and walk away without testing the knob.
My heavy backpack bounces against my shoulder. I don't want to have to return to my apartment between classes, even if it's technically on campus, and the weight of my books reminds me exactly what kind of day I'm in for. A long one. My very first semester with a full course load. I massage my shoulder and shrug on the second strap to even out the weight. Nursing textbooks aren't light.
But I'm not worried. All summer, I talked with Dana and the guidance office. Both of them asked me a dozen or more times if I was sure a full slate of classes wouldn't lead to what they called "a repeat of last time" and what I call "honestly, a pretty minor mental breakdown, considering." But I am not thinking about that. I'm thinking about the fact that I told them I was sure so many times that they both believed me, and now I have my very first college elective to look forward to. My outlook feel light and bright, and I take a second to categorize the feeling like Dana taught me.
Hope. I smile and stride down the wide, cobblestone path cutting through the main quad toward the art building. This is going to be a good year if it kills me.
Emerson Hall, a glass-covered building that hosts most of the art classes, welcomes me through its wide-open double doors. If I'd lived a different life, most of my classes would've been here. But after months in the institution, I wasn't able to face the idea of grim professors judging my performances like the musclebound nurses judged my fingerpainting and macaroni necklaces for any sign I was a danger to myself or others. I haven't even entered the building since then. It's light and airy, like I remember from the tour Ryan and I took so many years ago. As always, his name hits me like a spear to the chest. I suck in a deep breath and plunge forward.
The photography class is on the far side of the building from the door in a room covered in windows. A handful of desks sit haphazardly around the room, and a middle-aged woman wearing a blazer with elbow patches looks up from one of them as I walk in.
"I'm Professor Washington," she says. "I love an early student. Really shows the dedication you need to get the shot in the real world. Take a seat, and we'll wait for the rest of the stragglers to wander in."
I nod and surreptitiously check my watch as I claim a desk near the back. Twenty minutes early. Dammit! I tried so hard to arrive a chill, normal five minutes ahead. I'll just do better tomorrow.
Minutes tick away. Professor Washington scribbles in a tiny notebook balanced on her desk. I pull out my laptop, then the simple camera suggested for the course. A few more students filter in. As always, they're all a few years younger than me. Between my reduced course load and the six months I lost to the institution, I'm entering my sixth year attending Ardent. At least I've got kind of a young face. I never lost the baby fat in my cheeks, and I like to keep my hair braided back away from my face in a way my roommate, Heather, says makes me look like an orphan on Ellis Island.
A guy sits in front of me, and my breath catches. His hair is the exact same golden blond as Ryan's in the summer. My rib cage squeezes, crushing all the air out of my lungs. My hands shake. I clutch the edges of my desk to try to still the tremors.
Dana's voice, easy and certain, pours over my thoughts. Breathe. Three reasons he's not Ryan.
I inhale. The guy in front of me is shorter than Ryan's 6'3" by a few inches.
I exhale. Ryan lived in goofy graphic T-shirts his mom picked up for him at the local thrift store, and this guy is wearing a kind of ridiculous blazer.
I inhale. The guy in front of me has thick, muscular arms. Despite his height and his few seasons on the basketball team, Ryan hated sports and barely had enough muscle to lift some of his older cameras.
And the most important one? The Dana in my mind taps her pencil against her clipboard.
Ryan is dead. The guy in front of me isn't Ryan because I watched Ryan die, and I remember every second like it was yesterday. I exhale shakily and relax my grip on the desk.
The guy in front of me twists in his seat to reveal a thick, blond mustache. "Can I borrow a pencil?"
I almost laugh as I hand over my spare. What a stupid close call. He looks nothing like Ryan. I fiddle with the settings on my new camera as the last of the desks fill up. The moment class actually starts, Professor Washington stands and begins handing out syllabi. There's no reason to stress today. I doubt I'll be doing anything trickier than reading paragraph five on page two aloud this week. I relax into the flow of class.
"In addition to the two photography expeditions I'm leading on the eighth and the twenty-seventh," the prof says as we approach the end of class, "we have three others, to be led by an actual, working photographer. You're very lucky." She smiles conspiratorially. "Please help me welcome Ben Andrews, the newest photojournalist at the Ardent Weekly!"
I clap politely with everybody else, but I'm too busy circling the expeditions Professor Washington will be leading. Her attendance policy is lax as long as people turn in the work, but I'm not going to lose my chance to actually go out in the field with her.
A light, teasing laugh bounces off the windows, and my stomach drops to my toes. He sounds exactly like Ryan. I inhale and look up, ready to start listing differences.
There are none. The man standing at the front of the class, waving his hands to try to get people to stop clapping, looks exactly like my high school best friend, plus the six years I've been without him. His hair is a little longer, curling around his ears instead of shaved tight to his skull. He's grown into his hands and his ears. He wears the sort of preppy, short-sleeved button-down with a tiny pattern we used to make fun of people for. But there's nothing else to separate him from the boy I knew.
"All right, I'm not exactly Ansel Adams." He smiles self-consciously. "I just moved here from a little town in Illinois, and-"
That's Ryan's smile, the one he used when people told him he was so tall he had to play basketball. My stomach lurches. My heartbeat drowns out the rest of his words.
Inhale for three. Hold for three. Exhale for three. Still Ryan. I pinch myself until my jagged nails break the skin. Still Ryan. I shut my eyes, rub them, and open them again. Still Ryan. My rib cage caves in on my lungs as I fight through every goddamn exercise Dana ever taught me, looking for anything that will make this hallucination go away.
It has to be a hallucination. Ryan is dead. He's dead! I saw his blood, still taste it sometimes. But if it's a hallucination... then I'm losing my mind again.
Professor Washington claps her hands, and I jump.
"All right, that's Ben. Why don't the rest of us go around and introduce ourselves? Name, and why you decided to take this class." She smiles. "I decided to teach photography because I think there's nothing more beautiful than giving others the gift of art."
Oh, god, they want me to talk. To talk without throwing up. My skin vibrates as if attempting to escape from my body.
"And you?" Professor Williams looks at me.
So does Ryan. Ben. Ryan. I swallow.
"Marcie Holt," I manage. "Needed an art elective."
Professor Williams purses her lips and turns to the next student. Ben doesn't. He lingers on me. There's something in his eyes I don't recognize. I tear at the skin around my thumbnail.
"That's it for today," Professor Williams finally says. "I look forward to-"
I lurch out of my seat, bolting for the door. It doesn't matter what she thinks of me. I'm changing electives.
My chances of survival are slim. Going west in the 1880s? Dangerous. Fighting rogues and traveling through pack lands where we are unwelcome? A death sentence. But Akecheta awakens a part of me I've never known before. I'm brave. I'm strong. I'm an Alpha's daughter. I will fight for my people--even if it costs me everything. And chances are, it will. If you love steamy wolf shifter romance that will leave your heart racing, read this new adventure from the author of The Alpha King's Breeder.
I feel his eyes on me, staring through the darkness-darkness as black as his soul. As the fiancée of a rich state senator, I should be living the easy life, but that's not how it is for me. My mother's sick with cancer, my fiancé smells like women's perfume, and I'm not sure he even loves me. When I start to sense someone watching me, I should be terrified. Instead, I'm electrified. Kidnapped, held in a small room, but not tortured, I'm given a chance to study this man behind the mask. He's intriguing in ways he shouldn't be. He excites me in places I've never felt before. Should I give into the enticement and taste his sin? Or try to return to my regular life with a man I cannot trust who probably doesn't care about me at all? It's tempting-that's for damn sure. Tempted by Sin is a steamy dark stalker romance that might be triggering to some. You won't want to miss the shocking twist at the end!
Christmas magic is in the air at the Santa Clause Ball! Will it lead to love? Growing up in a town called Mistletoe Mountain, it's no wonder I love Christmas. My parents named me appropriately, too. You can't get much more Christmas-y than Holly Lane Garland! This Christmas is going to be even more magical than usual--I can just feel it! At the annual Santa Claus Ball, I meet an amazing man who makes my heart play "Jingle Bells." There's just one problem--well, maybe two. I have no idea what his name is--or what he looks like. (Did I mention the Santa Claus Ball is a masquerade?) Searching for my perfect man leads me to make a new friend. Patrick is amazing, and we have so much in common. He loves Christmas, too. But I think he has a girlfriend. And, well, he's just not the guy who kissed me under the mistletoe. Or is he? Will I find love before Santa arrives, or will I lose my chance at mistletoe magic? If you like sweet, clean Christmas romance novels that get you in the mood for the holidays, you won't want to miss this new romance from the author of Melody's Christmas, Christmas Cocoa, and All I Want for Christmas is Pooch!
Sometimes being outnumbered is a good thing--a very good thing! Harper When I signed up for an app that let me make some extra cash attending events with single men, I had no idea it would lead me to fall in love--four times! Scott is a caring organic farmer with muscles like no other. Damien is one of the richest men in the world who knows how to spoil me. Rafe is a famous quarterback who always hits me in the right spot. And then there's Tomas, my former professor turned Latin lover. It's scary dating four men, but they don't mind. In fact, they like how happy I am this way. Jack, however, my ex, is not exactly happy to find out my new situation. He'll stop at nothing to have me as his own--and share me with no one. When he goes too far, will my men be able to save me? If you love steamy reverse harem books, this new series from the author of Realm of the Chosen and Ember's Flames is perfect for you. Why choose if you don't have to?
All fae have a One--One person who strengthens their magic and enriches their life. A perfect mate. So why can't I find mine? What is a fae princess to do when she can't find the prince she's meant to spend the rest of her life with? I have to find him now, for the sake of my kingdom. Evil forces are moving in, and the only way I can come into my full power is to find my perfect mate. If I don't, the magical barrier that protects us will crumble because my magic won't be strong enough to hold it. But... I feel this strange pull to not one, but four different men! What in the world is going on? Can I be mated to all four of these men and still save my kingdom, or will what seems to be an asset turn out to be our undoing? The One is the first in a new reverse harem series by the author of Realm of the Chosen and Ember's Flames.
Late at night, when I think I'm alone, I feel his breath on the side of my face, and I know--he's watching me. Ever since I moved into this ancient mansion to take care of my sick aunt, I've been experiencing strange things. When I discover she has a boarder, a mysterious, sexy artist who lives on the third floor, I think some of that is explained. The bumps in the night. The whispers from the shadows. But once Dalton and I are properly introduced, the strange occurrences don't stop. If anything, they are amplified. When I close my eyes at night, it's his face I see. It's his hands I feel. It's his lips I taste. The more I get to know him, the more I realize I don't know him at all. Dalton's not the kind of man that buys a woman flowers and makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. No, he's the kind of man your mama would tell you to run from. Cold. Dangerous. Complex. And now that he wants me, I learn he is more than that. Possessive. Controlling. Diabolical. I should leave this place before it's too late, but I know I can't. Whatever it is that's sunk it's fangs into him, it has me, too. He has me, too. For better or worse. 'Til death... Whispers of the Devil is a dark romance which some readers may find disturbing. Proceed with caution.
My family was on the poverty line and had no way to support me in college. I had to work part-time every day just to make ends meet and afford to get into the university. That was when I met her—the pretty girl in my class that every boy dreamt of asking out. I was well aware she was out of my league. Nevertheless, I mustered all my courage and bravely told her that I had fallen for her. To my surprise, she agreed to be my girlfriend. With the sweetest smile I had ever seen, she told me that she wanted my first gift for her to be the latest and top-of-the-line iPhone. I worked like a dog and even did my classmates’ laundry to save up. My hard work eventually paid off after a month. I finally got to buy what she wanted. But as I was wrapping my gift, I saw her in the dressing room, making out with the captain of the basketball team. She then heartlessly made fun of my inadequacy and made a fool out of me. To make things worse, the guy whom she cheated on me with even punched me in the face. Desperation washed over me, but there was nothing I could do but lie on the floor as they trampled on my feelings. But then, my father called me out of the blue, and my life turned upside down. It turned out that I was a billionaire's son.
Five years ago, he upped and left his wife without informing her. He had always felt unworthy. As a result, he decided to go and become a better man. It took him five whole years of daily hard work. When he was satisfied, he returned as a powerful and honorable man. He intended to start a family with his wife. But he got back to meet the greatest shocker of his life. He actually had a daughter!
Benjamin Dylon, a mysterious billionaire abandoned at the altar Antonela Bianchi whose name she only knows. Suffering the greatest love humiliation, she goes to a bar and meets a handsome man and gives herself completely to him. When she wakes up the next day in a hotel bed, she realizes that she has committed madness. A few days later, Antonela discovers that she is pregnant and to make matters worse, she finally meets Benjamin, discovering that the man who abandoned her at the altar is the same man she met in the bar. Pregnant and alone, rejected by her own family, Antonela has no choice but to leave so that she can have that child in peace. Three years later, when her mother suddenly passes away, Antonela is forced to return to the city and meet Benjamin again. He is now her sister's fiancé, and Antonela must hide the fact that he is the father of her child.
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”
The kiss grew more passionate as he felt her warm supple body pressing against his chest. He couldn't believe how soft she was. He was gentler this time, making love to her with a slow, languorous pace, pausing now and then to check the expression on her face. Kira was. transported. She no longer felt the fabric of the sheets underneath her. One moment, she was floating in the air, cuddled by cotton candy clouds. The next, she'd become one with a dinghy, bobbing up and down with the undulating waves. His scent enveloped her. He was on top of her, using his arms to support his weight and avoid crushing her. She snuggled up closer to him, safe and snug, cocooned in his warmth. Kira had always marvelled at Austyn's stamina, but he outdid himself tonight. In the midst of overwhelming rapture, Kira still had the presence of mind to broach the subject she'd been meaning to bring up. 'My dad's medical bills.' Austyn paused. He frowned as he looked into those beseeching eyes. 'It'll be taken care of by the end of business day tomorrow,' he said with a bit of an edge in his voice. Kira breathed out. ****** She is a 21-year-old college student who dreams of becoming a journalist. He is the heir of the McCarthy family and president of a business empire. She is bright-eyed and vivacious, a glass-half-full kind of gal. When life throws her a curveball, she knocks it out of the park. He is the archetypal alpha male, aggressive and domineering. Endowed with both brains and brawn, he steamrolls over his enemies and rules his company with an iron fist. The two would never have crossed paths if not for a cruel twist of fate. Kira's world was turned upside down when her father was hospitalised after a car accident. The medical bills were astronomical. Austyn McCarthy offered her a way out. The price: becoming his contract wife. At night, he consummated their marriage but called out another woman's name. Who was she? Why did Austyn marry Kira if he was in love with someone else? Kira was his lawful wife, but she had no right to ask these questions. Then one day, the woman showed up in front of her.