Mostrando resultados por narrador "Aubrey Vincent" en Todas las categorías

Fleeing my father's cruelty, the wicked king who robbed me of a future, I face death in the streets, caught between a rebellion and a tyrant's reign. Captured by those sworn to kill me, the rebels remain blind to my true identity—the missing daughter of the despised king. Faced with an impossible choice, I stand before them: join the rebels or face their blades. Yet, Dacre, the son of the ruthless rebellion commander, becomes torn between suspicion and a desire that mirrors my own. He allows no one to touch me, tries to protect me, yet threatens me at every turn.

Verena was the lost princess of Marmoris, the very thing we had spent our entire lives looking for, and I had let her go. The lingering taste of her mixed with the deep ache in my chest over her betrayal haunted my days and nights. I knew she was hiding something, but her secrets were far more treacherous than I could have imagined. Though I wished my own betrayal hadn't been so bitter on my tongue. Now, my dreams are haunted by the way her deep blue eyes looked up at me in shock when I revealed I knew her truth.

Now that the Drexians have revealed themselves to humans, the two species are working together to protect Earth and the galaxy from alien invaders. That means women aren't just tribute brides anymore. And they aren't going to be bossed around by anyone--not even the badass Inferno Force warriors.

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.

All I know about the Taori warrior who saves me during an escape attempt and the ensuing battle is that he’s huge and horned. When he drags me from the carnage and deeper onto the barren moon, I’m grateful for his protection—even if he does eye me like I’m the last drop of water in the desert. When he confesses that he’s slowly being consumed by an ancient curse on his people—a mating fever with only one cure—I don’t want to believe him.

When Aurora Bennett witnesses a murder by a ruthless Los Angeles crime boss, she ends up stuck in her apartment like she’s the one who committed the crime. Then a sexy new neighbor moves in, and he’s just the sort of bossy, broad-shouldered male that makes her crazy—in more ways than one. Devon Whitestone can’t tell his neighbor Aurora the truth—that he’s actually a personal bodyguard hired by her brother, the owner of Bennett Security. Rule number one: don’t touch.

My trip to Mexico for my cousin's wedding was only supposed to be a few days of obligation and oceanside. I wasn't expecting Luke. Wasn't expecting the hot hockey player, with the smirks and the tattoos, who kept bumping into me. And I certainly wasn't expecting to spend a night on the beach, under the stars, underneath him. It was magical, but I thought it would end there. Instead, we exchanged numbers and stayed in touch. So when Luke invited me to watch him play in Vegas, I went. And it was great. Until we woke up the next morning and found the wedding certificate in my pocket.

Luca King. The notorious playboy. A master of one night stands. My constant shadow. Wherever I went, he was always there. Until he wasn’t. One wild night at a masquerade party was all it took. I got pregnant, broke my engagement, and failed my family.

When Kalesh Naz wakes from crashing in his escape pod, he's enraged to find himself locked in a dungeon. He's on a battle moon where he and other fierce aliens are forced to battle for their survival as entertainment for the cruel Xulonians. He will do anything to get back to his crew--even if it makes awakening the long-dormant barbaric ways of his ancestors and harnessing the mating fever that simmers beneath the surface.

There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement, or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game (because, apparently, he’s a professional athlete). Nor how to handle it when you get to the game and realize he’s freaking famous, since half of the 20,000 people in the stands are wearing his jersey.

As if being abducted by space slavers wasn’t bad enough, I’m sold to a species of aliens in need of extras for their immersive entertainment moons, where their privileged citizens can hunt or battle or bed us at their leisure. When I’m separated from my crew and dropped into a lush alien jungle, I have no idea which fantasy moon I’m on—until the first arrow nearly impales me.

After that close-up of his package on the sailboat in Morocco, TMZ started calling him Crown Jewels. Not that I keep track of Prince Liam. Definitely don’t stalk him online like my friends do. I’m out of that scene now. My family’s reality show might still be running, but I’ve been off-screen for a while. When people pass me on the sidewalk, they might squint, but most of them don’t scream “Lucy Rhodes” and ask about my love of Lucky Charms or how my broken toe healed. Prince Liam - my stalking his Instagram - that’s just for fun. It’s my dirty little secret.

I volunteered to sneak onto an enemy battleship. Now I’m stranded on a prison moon with a hot Drexian pilot who can’t stand me. I had no choice. It was either volunteer for a rescue mission for the Drexians or go to prison on Earth. I know, I know. The irony isn’t lost on me. But what were the chances I’d end up on a creepy alien prison moon running for my life with a Drexian who seems annoyed that I saved him? Which is a problem since we’re stuck together on a swampy planet that’s too hot to wear much of anything.

When I don't marry his nephew, I have no idea I'm still promised to Zoran's clan. Imagine my shock when the dark and imposing alien informs me that he will be taking me as his tribute bride--and taking me back to the Drexian home world with him. The silver fox warrior isn't like the brash young Drexians on the station. He's intense and serious and a bit scary, and I can't imagine being his bride. But it appears I have no choice. I'm bound to him, which means my life will be as the mate of an alien I barely know and can't imagine falling for.

"You will go to Rathe University, live among the giftless and those of light magic. You, Knight Deveraux, will learn to coexist." I've never heard more wasted words in my life. Then again, the gifted counsel never did have much to say that wasn't. The only members amongst them who speak a thing worth listening to are my parents, the king and queen of the Stygians, the people of Dark magic. Unfortunately for me and my brothers, they've chosen to play nice instead of sinking their talons into anyone who dares demand a thing from their heirs. In this instance at least.

When I stepped into the courtroom this morning, I intended to fight for my client's life. I never expected to run for my own. Now the courthouse is in lockdown, and I'm trapped in a tiny room with my nemesis—the West Oaks PD cop who hates me most. He's a single dad with a growly attitude, an ex-Marine, and he's the star witness against my client. But it turns out Detective Sean Holt and I do have something in common. This threat against us is personal, and the maniac behind it wants us both dead.

Now that everyone on Earth knows about the Drexians - and their need for human mates - women have been falling all over themselves to volunteer. But not me.

I wasn’t supposed to end up on the Drexian space station or be matched to one of their gorgeous warriors as a tribute bride. My perfect twin sister is the one they wanted. Instead, I stole her spot. The trouble is, I’m not tribute bride “material”, whatever that means, and I’m on the first transport back to Earth in disgrace.

Marry a man I barely know to save my family from ruin. It might’ve been simple, if my betrothed were anybody else. On our wedding day, my husband-to-be arrived at the courthouse like a black cloud rolling over Manhattan. Walt didn’t crack smiles or pepper in pleasantries as we exchanged hollow vows in front of the judge. His disdain for me was so palpable I assumed we’d walk out of that ceremony and resume our regularly scheduled programming. But then fate was like, Hold my beer. I got this.

My friends found their happily-ever-afters with a couple of sweet, doting, over-the-top, in-love athletes. They got nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. But me? I got stuck with a dickhead who riles me up on purpose and calls me Banshee. Yeah, he might have a voice made explicitly for wet dreams. And he might have a body and face carved by the gods. And he might have a level of Alpha-hole that gets me all hot and bothered. But when he presses my buttons, he presses ALL my buttons.