Whispers and the Roars

by K. Webster Publication Date: December 6, 2016 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance
When my eyes are closed, the monster can’t ever see me. When I sing a song in my head, the monster can’t ever hear me. When I pretend my bedroom is a playground where I play hide and seek, the monster can’t ever find me. The darkness should frighten me. I should worry I’ll find more monsters…monsters scarier than him. But I’m not afraid. It’s safe here. When I’m inside of my head… He. Can’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Warning: Whispers and the Roars is a dark romance. Strong sexual themes and violence, which could trigger emotional distress are found in this story. The abuse written in this story is graphic and not glossed over which could be upsetting to some. Proceed with caution. This story is NOT for everyone.

Fractions of seconds can do lots of damage. One decision can ruin lives. A blink can be tragic. And loving a Hollister…can hurt like hell.

I would know.

They say the average person can hold their breath under water for two full minutes when pushed to the extremes. Will Hollister has been holding his for years. The oldest of two elite swimming brothers, Will was always a dominant force in the water. But in life, he preferred to let his younger
brother Evan be the one to shine.

Evan got the girl, and Will…he got to bury all of the secrets. A brother’s burden, the weight of it all nearly left him to drown.

The daughter of two Olympians, my path was set the day my fingertips first touched water. My future was as crystal clear as the lane I dominated in the pool—swim hard, win big, love a Hollister.

My life with Evan burned bright. He gave me arms to come home to, and a smile that fooled the world into believing everything was perfect. But it was Will who pushed me. Will…who really knew me.

And when all of the pieces fell, it was Will who started to pick them up.

In the end, the only thing that matters are those few precious seconds—and what we decide to do while we still have them in our grasp.

After We Fall by Melanie Harlow Publication Date: November 28^th, 2016 Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

A perfect storm led me to this place. Ghosted by my fiancé, I was suddenly broke, heartbroken and facing eviction. Enter Mason Leo, the six feet and two inches of pure muscle and arrogance I’ve hated with a passion since the day we met. The man is cocky, womanizing and ruinously gorgeous.

Worse than that, he’s my ex’s brother. And for the next two weeks, he gets to do with me as he pleases.

I’ll explain.

With both our exes – wait for it – set to marry each other in St. Lucia, I’ve agreed to let Mason pay my debts so long as I play his date. My only job is to keep my clothes on while I get my closure. Because as much as I hate Mason Leo, the man is a walking sex god. And in the name of revenge, he gets to take me out, show me off – dress, touch and kiss me with those wicked lips. It’s all for show, but every night in paradise with him brings more drinks, more drama and another temptation, so no matter what I do, I can’t stop reminding myself this:

There’s absolutely no good to come from f*cking my ex’s brother.

No matter how good it’ll feel.

Aaron is getting married to Mason’s ex-girlfriend, Eva, and soon. Mason believes Eva is marrying Aaron to get back at him, and he doesn’t want that for his brother. He asks Taylor to attend the wedding as his date with the hope that his brother will realize his mistake and call the whole thing off.

Taylor has always detested Mason. He is the last person that she wants to be spending anytime with. Anticipating her reluctance, he promises to pay off all of her debt if she agrees to be his plus one. At first, Taylor turns him down, but after a particularly hellish night at work, she agrees on the condition that she be seen as his girlfriend and not some cheap fling.

The only problem they have now is getting everyone to buy that they are an actual couple. Taylor’s strong dislike of Mason is widely known amongst members of their social circles. Can they really convince everyone that their fauxmance is real?

Over the course of their “relationship,” sparks begin to fly. It becomes harder for Taylor to remember that none of this is supposed to be real. What’s going to happen when it all comes to end?

Ex Games is the first book that I have ever read by Stella Rhys. That’s a shame, because I have clearly been missing out! Do you love those books that grab your interest from the first page and hold on until the end? How about those books that help you forget all your troubles after a long stressful day? This is that kind of book! I was completely enraptured by the story from the moment I began reading it. 

Taylor and Mason were so much fun to read about. I couldn’t get enough of their flirty banter! Taylor is a strong, beautiful, self-made woman that demands respect. Mason is cocky, sexy, successful, and downright swoonworthy. He will, without a doubt, be a book boyfriend contender for many readers. Their crazy sexual chemistry makes for some deliciously hot scenes! Not only is their physical attraction strong, but so is their emotional connection. They are able to open up to each other in ways they haven’t been able to with anyone else. It’s always a plus for me when I can feel something deeper than just a physical connection between the characters. 

I enjoyed every minute of this story! It was really easy to get into, incredibly well paced, and well written. I loved the author’s amazing writing style, and I will definitely be trying all of her books in the future. The only thing I felt like this was lacking was an epilogue. It certainly doesn’t leave you hanging, but I would have liked a tiny bit more than I got. Regardless, I would recommend this book to almost any fan of contemporary romance. Ex Games is passionate, steamy, humorous, and at times, emotional. If you were on the fence about reading this, I think you should hop off and give it a try!

     
They say when life closes one door, another one opens. This door happens to lead to paradise. And a man I can never, ever have. Still grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica "Ronnie" Locke needed was to lose her job at one of Chicago’s finest restaurants and have to move back in with her parents. So when a window of opportunity opens for her – running a kitchen at a small Hawaiian hotel – she’d be crazy not to take it. The only problem is, the man running the hotel drives her crazy: Logan Shephard. It doesn’t matter that he’s got dark brown eyes, a tall, muscular build that’s sculpted from daily surfing sessions, and a deep Australian accent that makes your toes curl. What does matter is that he’s a grump. Kind of an asshole, too. And gets under Ronnie’s skin like no one else. But the more time Ronnie spends on the island of Kauai, falling in love with the lush land and its carefree lifestyle, the closer she gets to Logan. And the closer she gets to Logan, the more she realizes she may have pegged him all wrong. Maybe it’s the hot, steamy jungles or the invigorating ocean air, but soon their relationship becomes utterly intoxicating. There’s just one major catch. The two of them together would incite a scandal neither Ronnie, nor her family, would ever recover from. Forbidden, Illicit, off-limits – sometimes the heat is worth surrendering to, even if you get burned.  

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“There are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye , you know. 

Every time I read a Karina Halle book, I’m immediately transported into the world that she so eloquently created. From the location alone, I feel like I’m actually there soaking up the sun, wriggling my toes in the sand and inhaling the fresh island air. 

For the food, I’m tasting all of these different spices and flavors that mesh so well together from the ripe mangoes to freshest sea food, I felt like I was there eating everything. This is what reading her books do to your mind, and you have no choice but to soak up this experience because that’s what it was. An EXPERIENCE.



“He has a way of making me forget everything, a way of losing my thoughts. He’s always done this to me”. 

Veronica Locke loves to cook. Being in the kitchen is her own oasis so when a new opportunity presents itself for to be a chef in Kauai Hawaii for her brother in- law’s resort, she takes it. You would think that leaving your home to start over in a new country would be frightening for her, but Veronica is in desperate need of a fresh start and she’s going to take it. 



What happens when the one person whom you’ve spent the past few years blaming for the ultimate rift in your family, becomes the one temptation you can’t ignore. The only thing Logan has ever wanted to do was open his own hotel on a beautiful island and sharing it with a woman who would be his everything. Now seven years later, he’s widower who’s trying to keep his business and peace of mind afloat. 

They say the best things in life are worth fighting for and the way Logan feels about his hotel, held no truer meaning than that. Hiring his sister in-law to be one of the new Chefs is going to test his ability on whether or not a past encounter was a just a figment of his imagination or something that will be beyond their control.


I really enjoyed this story and even though there were certain characters that had me setting aside bail money, I loved the interactions with each other. There were times when I felt like things moved too fast for my liking, but I understood the reasoning behind it and the connection was real. If you’ve never read anything by this author, you are seriously missing out.
 

PROLOGUE

I saw him first. It shamed me to think it then, it shames me to think it now. But that’s what the truth does to you sometimes. It shames you because it’s only in the truth that you realize how human you really are. What a raw, devastating thing that is, to embrace your humanity and learn to live with all your sharp points, the hollow places, the cracks and the crevices. To be utterly real. To be terribly flawed. Those cracks had always been forming inside me, slowly making their way to the surface over the years. In my family, there wasn’t much you could do but try and hold yourself together, to stick glue on your wounds, to paste over the imperfections. But the cracks still grew, until all of us were held together by crumbling cement, just statues waiting to collapse. That was years and years ago. I was just twenty-two at the time. A baby. I’m still a baby in the grand scheme of things, but there’s something precious about your early twenties, where you think you’re so much older, bigger, than you are, where life is just about to deliver the crushing blows that will knock you off your feet for the rest of your days. The small things become the big things and the big things become the small things and you aren’t quite sure when they made the switch. But in the end, I saw him first. He was mine, even before he knew it. He was mine in some strange way that I still don’t understand. The only way I can think of to explain it is… You just know. There are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye, you know. Maybe it’s all in the chemistry, certain pheromones that react when they mix together, maybe it’s a smell that triggers a memory, maybe it’s a glimpse at a future you don’t recognize or a hint at the past, a life you’ve lived and forgotten. Whatever it is, you know that moment, that person, is going to shape you for the rest of your life. That’s what it was like when I saw him. Standing over by the windows and staring out Lake Michigan, like he was wishing he could be anywhere but there. I wished the same. My mother’s the deputy mayor of Chicago and this was another one of her fundraisers I felt obliged to attend. It was tradition in my family, for my father, for me, for my sister, to show up and wave the flag of support. It didn’t seem to matter that the stuffy politicians that surrounded these events never paid me any attention. And if they did, it was the wrong kind of attention, always the sixty-year-old man leering after the young thing with the nice smile. Luckily I didn’t smile all that often. My resting bitch face took over whenever I was deep in thought, which was pretty much all the time. But this guy…I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling, and that it was completely wrapped up in and connected to everything that was going through me. I don’t know where I found the nerve to go over and talk to him. He seemed so much older, not quite the sixty-year-old politicians I was used to seeing, but maybe in his early-thirties. More than that, there was some kind of aura around him. Sounds stupid, I know. Whatever it was, it was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky. It was usually Juliet’s job to go around and make everyone feel warm and comfortable at these events—hell, in every event—but she wasn’t here yet. And though I could have easily stayed in the shadows, I was pulled to him, like he had a wave of gravity whirling around him. I remember what I was wearing. Strappy flats because I hated wearing heels, a knee-length cocktail dress in emerald green, sleeveless, high-neck. It made me look older and I wore it because my mother always wanted me to look like a lady. With a glass of champagne in hand, I made my way over to the windows, my heart racing the closer I got to him. He looked taller up close, well over six feet. His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer’s, and suddenly I had a vision of him diving into the lake. The navy blue suit he was wearing looked well-tailored but he seemed uncomfortable in it, like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it. I stood beside him for a moment, following his gaze out the window. He seemed lost in his thoughts but out of my peripheral his head tilted slightly and he brought his eyes over to me while I kept staring at that wide expanse of water, stretching out to the horizon. “Can’t wait to get out of here?” I asked, but though my tone was mild, my delivery was bold. It was as if someone else had taken a hold of my body, forcing me to speak. I slowly turned my head to meet his eyes. I was taken aback for a second. He was staring at me like he knew me, even though I’d never seen him before. Then again, I was sure I’d been staring at him in the same way. That feeling of knowing. He knew me, I knew him, and who the hell knows how that was possible. His eyes were brown—are brown—dark with currents of gold and amber, giving them beautiful clarity. Slightly almond shaped. His brows were also dark, arched, adding to the intensity of his gaze. He’s the type of guy whose eyes latch onto you, dig deep, trying to sift through the files of your life, see who you really are. “How did you know?” he asked, a full-on Australian accent rumbling through his gruff voice. It made my stomach flip, my core smolder. How deed you now, is what it sounded like. Funny how I stopped hearing the accent after time. I gave a half shrug and looked back to the party. More people had flooded the room, mingling around the appetizers. My mother was in the corner, a crowd of politicians around her. She didn’t see me. She never did. “Because I think I’d rather be in the middle of Lake Michigan too,” I told him, “then be stuck here with all these people.” “These people,” he repeated. My focus was drawn to his lips, full, wide, tilting up into a smirk. Beneath them was a strong chin and even sharper jaw, dusted with a five o’clock shadow that seemed permanent, like the man couldn’t get a clean shave even if he tried. “How do you know I’m not one of these people?” “Because you’re over here and not over there. How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?” He studied me for a moment. My blood pounded in my head and I felt a giddy kind of thrill at how this was progressing. If anything, I was proud for holding my own with this handsome stranger. He was the first man I ever really felt at ease with. He cleared his throat, offered me a quick smile before he nodded at the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. “She almost looks like the ocean, doesn’t she?” “Not quite the same as Australia, I would imagine.” “No hiding this accent, is there?” He glanced at me and stuck out his hand, which I shook for a moment, warm palm to warm palm. “I’m Logan Shepard. Australian. And the reason I’m here is because I was invited by a friend of mine. I’m only in town for a few days and he didn’t want to go alone. He’s over there.” He nodded at a tall black man in the corner, listening intently to another man. “Warren Jones,” he said, as if I should know him. Perhaps I should. He probably thought I was one of them. “He’s local and the key piece to my investment.” I wasn’t one for business talk—I never had anything to contribute other than lamenting student loans—but I wanted him to keep talking. “What’s your investment?” “Starting my own hotel,” he said. “In Hawaii. Have you ever been there?” “Once. When I was eight. I think we were in Honolulu. I remember a city, anyway. Waikiki Beach.” “This hotel is in Kauai. The Garden Isle. Went there once as a teenager and couldn’t get it out of my mind.” I didn’t know the right things to say. I wanted to ask more about the hotel, what it means when you have an investor, but I didn’t want to appear dumb. I kept my mouth shut. “You haven’t introduced yourself,” he said. “Protecting a secret identity?” I smiled, close-lipped. “Not really. I’m Veronica Locke. American. And I unfortunately I don’t have much else to add to that.” “Locke?” he repeated, eyes darting to my mother. “Are you the daughter of the deputy mayor, Rose Locke?” “One of them,” I told him. He nodded quickly. “I see. No wonder you’d rather be in the middle of the bloody lake. I bet you have to do this stuff all the time.” “It’s not so bad.” I took a sip of my drink so I didn’t have to say anything more and looked away at the crowd. The bubbles teased my nose, making my eyes water. I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke. “I’m sure you have plenty more to say about yourself though. Where do you work? Student?” “Culinary arts,” I told him. “I’m one of those crazy people who dream of being a chef one day.” He frowned. “Why is that crazy?” I gave him a look, forgetting that most people have no idea how hard it is. “Because it’s a long road, long hours, and nothing is guaranteed. People think being a chef is easy. They see Gordon Ramsey or Nigella Lawson and think it’s all fame and food and money and they have no idea what it’s really like. I’m not even out of school and already I feel half-beaten.” He was still frowning. He did that a lot, I would soon learn. “Sounds like life to me.” His eyes dropped to my lips and something intensely carnal came over them, like suddenly I was the food, not the wannabe chef. “Did you want to get a drink somewhere. After this? When you’ve done your daughterly duties?” I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what a drink meant. Just a drink? A date? Was it sex? I started going through my head, trying to think of reasons why it was a bad idea. My legs were shaved, did my bra and underwear match? Did I have a condom? I had taken the pill this morning, even though my last boyfriend and I had broken up months ago. I hadn’t been with a guy, let alone a man, in a long time. Don’t flatter yourself, I quickly thought. What makes you think he’d be interested in you that way? “Yes,” I said when I finally found my voice. “Yes, I would like that.” A spark flashed in his eyes, lighting them up in such a way that made my toes literally curl. Damn. I was in trouble with this man. “Any way you can get out of your duties sooner?” he asked. I couldn’t help but smile, raising my brow at his presumptuousness, while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out. I looked around the room and tried to judge how likely it was that someone would notice if I was gone. My mom was still surrounded by a wall of people and no one was paying any attention to us, standing by the windows, already removed. A sad thought hit me, sliding past before I could really dwell on it: no one even notices when I’m here. “If we’re quick and sneaky,” I told him. “Being quick isn’t in my repertoire,” he said, “but I could give it a shot.” Again. Damn. I wasn’t one to blush but I could feel my cheeks heating up and hoped my skin supressed the flush. He was so much older than me in so many ways, the last thing I wanted was to appear the naïve schoolgirl. And I didn’t know what to say to that. He was staring at me with those dark eyes, a look so intense yet sparkling with charm and something…wicked. I’d never find out how wicked they could be. “Ronnie!” A melodic, ultra-feminine voice sliced through the moment like an unwieldy machete, causing me to flinch, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. Oh no, I thought. Not now. Logan’s head swiveled toward the sound of the voice, like a hound picking up a scent. I didn’t bother looking over, I kept my focus on him, watching his expression intently. It changed, as I knew it would. She had walked into the room. He saw her. And like it was for so many men, that look of lust I had thought was for me, was now for her. That’s when I knew it was over. Whatever thing I had felt for him, it didn’t matter anymore, not when she was in the room. Nothing ever mattered as long as she was around. I might have saw him first. But he was all hers after that.

  
                                       
Karina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books. Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK. Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more. FACEBOOK TWITTER GOODREADS AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
 

Fractions of seconds can do lots of damage. One decision can ruin lives. A blink can be tragic. And loving a Hollister…can hurt like hell.

I would know.

They say the average person can hold their breath under water for two full minutes when pushed to the extremes. Will Hollister has been holding his for years. The oldest of two elite swimming brothers, Will was always a dominant force in the water. But in life, he preferred to let his younger
brother Evan be the one to shine.

Evan got the girl, and Will…he got to bury all of the secrets. A brother’s burden, the weight of it all nearly left him to drown.

The daughter of two Olympians, my path was set the day my fingertips first touched water. My future was as crystal clear as the lane I dominated in the pool—swim hard, win big, love a Hollister.

My life with Evan burned bright. He gave me arms to come home to, and a smile that fooled the world into believing everything was perfect. But it was Will who pushed me. Will…who really knew me.

And when all of the pieces fell, it was Will who started to pick them up.

In the end, the only thing that matters are those few precious seconds—and what we decide to do while we still have them in our grasp.

Excerpt:
“I need you to stay, Will,” she says. “No matter what…if you lose, if I lose. If this gets hard, whatever this is. I need you to stay until we figure it out. And even then, I just think…”

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