christine

Halloween: it’s a holiday where people shed their boring everyday personalities and become fantastic beings ready for an epic party. Well, guess what? That’s Billy Boston 24/7, 365, baby! It’s who I was before I became a millionaire and it’s who I’ll always be. My beautiful next door neighbor, Donna, is a hardworking nurse who takes her job seriously and her fun even more so. All she wants is a no-strings arrangement and that’s fine by me.

Contract killer Lachlan Kane wants a quiet life working in his leather studio and forgetting all about his traumatic past. But when he botches a job for his boss’s biggest client, Lachlan knows he’ll never claw his way out of the underworld. At least, not until songbird Lark Montague offers him a deal: use his skills to hunt down a killer and she’ll find a way to secure his freedom. The catch? He has to marry her first. And they can’t stand each other.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

The last thing I expected was him. A surly, broody mountain of a man who helps me save an injured deer in a snowstorm. Now, Roan Hartley keeps showing up with his glowers and grimaces. But they only make his rare smiles and the gentle way he talks to my daughter mean that much more. When forces from my past find us, Roan is determined to keep us safe—even if that means sleeping on my ancient couch every night.

When a chance encounter sparks an unlikely bond between rival murderers Sloane and Rowan, the two find something elusive—the friendship of a like-minded, pitch-black soul. From small-town West Virginia to upscale California, from downtown Boston to rural Texas, the two hunters collide in an annual game of blood and suffering, one that pits them against the most dangerous monsters in the country.

Single and jobless again, I return to Boston, needing old friends to comfort me from bad decisions, like dating my boss, moving in with him, and being dumped, fired, and homeless all in one night. Note to self, never ask a man “Where is this going?” when you have no place to go! So when my bestie tells me an old friend from high school happens to be looking for a roommate, I jump at the chance. What she didn’t tell me was that this "old friend" was Carson Hill, Mass High School’s center hockey player and the guy who didn’t know I existed while I knew every detail about him.

Forced into an arranged marriage, Mina Hobart has no choice except leave her childhood home and follow her new husband on a dangerous journey westward. Each hot, dusty day on the Oregon Trail is pure misery, and it isn't long before tragedy renders her a widow. Returning home isn't an option. She presses on, hoping to carve out a life for herself in the new frontier.

Running into your ex is never ideal. Running into your ex who is now dating your nemesis is a literal nightmare. That’s how I found myself in a sheer panic, reaching for the closest guy at the bar and kissing him. And to my delight he was easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I failed to divulge one little detail. I was a virgin. Bishop Bohanan was my first. Now he’s demanding to be my one and only. And he won’t take no for an answer.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.