Some love stories come with body counts. Moses “Mo” Garrison ain’t no hero. He’s the one they call when shit gets ugly. An ill-tempered killer with a reputation for shooting first and asking questions never. The leader of ruthless gang in South-Hurst, Mo is chaos wrapped in caramel skin, with a Glock on his hip and ghosts in his past. The streets fear him. His crew trusts him. And feelings? He don't do those. Soleil “YaYa” Rae, is a Hoodoo spiritualist with a guarded but open heart. YaYa is more familiar with sage and soul work than the streets. She stays out the way — burning sage, minding her business, and protecting her peace. But peace gets messy when her little brother starts idolizing the same streets she prayed he'd never walk. Now she’s staring down a man who should’ve scared her… but somehow feels like home. He’s violence. She’s healing. And they were never supposed to fall in love. But Mo has demons he doesn't speak on. And YaYa has a light that makes them scream. Can love survive the sins required to keep it, or will their love ruin them both? Welcome to South-Hurst. Where healing ain't soft and love ain’t clean. And nobody gets out the game untouched

Some love stories come with body counts. Moses “Mo” Garrison ain’t no hero. He’s the one they call when shit gets ugly. An ill-tempered killer with a reputation for shooting first and asking questions never. The leader of ruthless gang in South-Hurst, Mo is chaos wrapped in caramel skin, with a Glock on his hip and ghosts in his past. The streets fear him. His crew trusts him. And feelings? He don't do those. Soleil “YaYa” Rae, is a Hoodoo spiritualist with a guarded but open heart. YaYa is more familiar with sage and soul work than the streets. She stays out the way — burning sage, minding her business, and protecting her peace. But peace gets messy when her little brother starts idolizing the same streets she prayed he'd never walk. Now she’s staring down a man who should’ve scared her… but somehow feels like home. He’s violence. She’s healing. And they were never supposed to fall in love. But Mo has demons he doesn't speak on. And YaYa has a light that makes them scream. Can love survive the sins required to keep it, or will their love ruin them both? Welcome to South-Hurst. Where healing ain't soft and love ain’t clean. And nobody gets out the game untouched

If anyone ever said being an adult was easy, they hadn't been one long enough. Diana Casillas can admit it: she doesn't know what the hell she's doing half the time. How she's made it through the last two years of her life without killing anyone is nothing short of a miracle. Being a grown-up wasn't supposed to be so hard. With a new house, two little boys she inherited the most painful possible way, a giant dog, a job she usually loves, more than enough family, and friends, she has almost everything she could ever ask for. Except for a boyfriend. Or a husband. But who needs either one of those?

Love wasn’t something that I ever felt before. I knew how to love because I loved my Yaya more than life. I knew that I could love, because the baby I had grown within me and now held, I loved her more than I loved myself. As I watched this man sleep peacefully beside me, one arm around me, keeping me close, I knew that I loved him. I knew that I could see forever with him, and I knew that he would kill any and everything moving when it came to protecting me.

A traditional American woman, a “tradwife” influencer, suddenly awakens in the brutal reality of 1855—where she must unravel whether this living nightmare is an elaborate hoax, a twisted reality show, or something far more sinister in this sensational debut novel. My name was Natalie Heller Mills, and I was perfect at being alive. Natalie lives a traditional lifestyle. Her charming farmhouse is rustic, her husband a handsome cowboy, her six children each more delightful than the last. So what if there are nannies and producers behind the scenes, her kitchen hiding industrial-grade fridges and ovens, her husband the heir to a political dynasty? What Natalie’s followers—all 8 million of them—don’t know won’t hurt them. And The Angry Women? The privileged, Ivy League, coastal elite haters who call her an antifeminist iconoclast? They’re sick with jealousy. Because Natalie isn’t simply living the good life, she’s living the ideal—and just so happens to be building an empire from it. Until one morning she wakes up in a life that isn’t hers. Her home, her husband, her children—they’re all familiar, but something’s off. Her kitchen is warmed by a sputtering fire rather than electricity, her children are dirty and strange, and her soft-handed husband is suddenly a competent farmer. Just yesterday Natalie was curating photos of homemade jam for her Instagram, and now she’s expected to haul firewood and handwash clothes until her fingers bleed. Has she become the unwitting star of a ruthless reality show? Could it really be time travel? Is she being tested by God? By Satan? When Natalie suffers a brutal injury in the woods, she realizes two things: This is not her beautiful life, and she must escape by any means possible. A gripping, electrifying novel that is as darkly funny as it is frightening, Yesteryear is a gimlet-eyed look at tradition, fame, faith, and the grand performance of womanhood.

Love wasn’t something that I ever felt before. I knew how to love because I loved my Yaya more than life. I knew that I could love, because the baby I had grown within me and now held, I loved her more than I loved myself. As I watched this man sleep peacefully beside me, one arm around me, keeping me close, I knew that I loved him. I knew that I could see forever with him, and I knew that he would kill any and everything moving when it came to protecting me.

SImone "Honey" Williams isn't looking for love, just the next bag. Guarded, gorgeous and grinding her way through nights at Magic's Garden, she's mastered the art of taking what she needs without letting anyone close. Until Kingston "King" Carter walks in. Ruthless, rich and always in control, King is used to running the streets and everyone in them. But the moment he sees Simone, all bets are off. He wants her. Wants to protect her, own her, keep her. And he doesn't care what lines he has to cross to make that happen. But the streets are shifting. A new crew is gunning for King's territory and when Simone's pulled into the middle of a brewing war, the game turns deadly. Is she just another pawn in a man's world or the queen who changes everything? High heat. Heavy tension. Hood loyalty. This is Velvet & Venom. Where love might feel like protection, but it hits like possession.

SImone "Honey" Williams isn't looking for love, just the next bag. Guarded, gorgeous and grinding her way through nights at Magic's Garden, she's mastered the art of taking what she needs without letting anyone close. Until Kingston "King" Carter walks in. Ruthless, rich and always in control, King is used to running the streets and everyone in them. But the moment he sees Simone, all bets are off. He wants her. Wants to protect her, own her, keep her. And he doesn't care what lines he has to cross to make that happen. But the streets are shifting. A new crew is gunning for King's territory and when Simone's pulled into the middle of a brewing war, the game turns deadly. Is she just another pawn in a man's world or the queen who changes everything? High heat. Heavy tension. Hood loyalty. This is Velvet & Venom. Where love might feel like protection, but it hits like possession.

I came home and ended up with two enemies because of the women I choose to love. Kendra was the one I thought I loved, but the feeling I felt when I looked into Alaia’s eyes told me that I had never experienced love with Kendra. When I looked into my Joy’s eyes, I wanted to give her the stars, moons, and the sky wrapped up with a big fat ass bow. So, for her, I would go to war to make sure Tweety had no parts in touching her ever again. My son’s life was touched because of a man that didn’t understand that I’m at the top. Now, I’m about to touch every person he has ever loved until my hands are wrapped around his throat. For my seeds, I will shed blood.

A richly inventive novel about a centuries-old vampire, a spellbound witch, and the mysterious manuscript that draws them together. Deep in the stacks of Oxford's Bodleian Library, young scholar Diana Bishop unwittingly calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript in the course of her research. Descended from an old and distinguished line of witches, Diana wants nothing to do with sorcery; so after a furtive glance and a few notes, she banishes the book to the stacks. But her discovery sets a fantastical underworld stirring, and a horde of daemons, witches, and vampires soon descends upon the library. Diana has stumbled upon a coveted treasure lost for centuries-and she is the only creature who can break its spell. Debut novelist Deborah Harkness has crafted a mesmerizing and addictive read, equal parts history and magic, romance and suspense. Diana is a bold heroine who meets her equal in vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont, and gradually warms up to him as their alliance deepens into an intimacy that violates age-old taboos. This smart, sophisticated story harks back to the novels of Anne Rice, but it is as contemporary and sensual as the Twilight series-with an extra serving of historical realism.

Alex’s Corbeau-Green’s world is burning down around him, and Ophelia Winters is desperate to prove she didn’t light the fire. When Ophelia first accepted a scholarship from Sorrowsong, an elite university in the Scottish Highlands, she wanted nothing more than to destroy Alex and his family at any cost. But that was before she knew him, before they became each other’s everything. Now, after an unthinkable betrayal and the disappearance of his father, Alex is forced to return to New York, desperate to forget what they had, and salvage the damage done to his family. In Scotland, Ophelia is left reeling, alone . . . and watched. With a new anonymous tormentor threatening to release evidence that Ophelia and Alex committed a murder on campus, it’s clear that they’re going to need each other once again. But can they find a way to trust each other, and repair the love that they had? And even if they can—will it be enough this time to keep them alive?

I came home and ended up with two enemies because of the women I choose to love. Kendra was the one I thought I loved, but the feeling I felt when I looked into Alaia’s eyes told me that I had never experienced love with Kendra. When I looked into my Joy’s eyes, I wanted to give her the stars, moons, and the sky wrapped up with a big fat ass bow. So, for her, I would go to war to make sure Tweety had no parts in touching her ever again. My son’s life was touched because of a man that didn’t understand that I’m at the top. Now, I’m about to touch every person he has ever loved until my hands are wrapped around his throat. For my seeds, I will shed blood.

After my Yaya passed away, I didn’t have anyone that cared for me. I mean, not even a month after Yaya was in the ground, he sat me down in the living room and sold me to a thirty-year-old man. I was sixteen, and my big brother, the man that was supposed to protect me sold me off like cattle on a farm.My entire life has been to please Zayne. I’m his fourth wife, and the youngest wife. Nobody has ever protected or cared for me. I was tossed the cards that life handed and had to make do with them. That is until Cappadonna Delgato and I cross paths-again.All it took was for me to see her one time in that visitation room to know that I needed her. Alaia, her name literally means Joy and happiness, and I didn’t see anything of the sorts in her eyes when she stared into my eyes that day. As Allah would have it, our paths were meant to cross on the outside, and they did.I’m a protector, a provider, and a man, and I don’t think Alaia has ever had that in her life. I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to see to make her mine. She went years without knowing what protection and true love felt like, and I’m stepping up to make sure she doesn’t go another day not knowing how I feel or how I’m coming behind her. If I say she's mine, she's mine, and I've never been afraid to shed blood to prove it.

After my Yaya passed away, I didn’t have anyone that cared for me. I mean, not even a month after Yaya was in the ground, he sat me down in the living room and sold me to a thirty-year-old man. I was sixteen, and my big brother, the man that was supposed to protect me sold me off like cattle on a farm.My entire life has been to please Zayne. I’m his fourth wife, and the youngest wife. Nobody has ever protected or cared for me. I was tossed the cards that life handed and had to make do with them. That is until Cappadonna Delgato and I cross paths-again.All it took was for me to see her one time in that visitation room to know that I needed her. Alaia, her name literally means Joy and happiness, and I didn’t see anything of the sorts in her eyes when she stared into my eyes that day. As Allah would have it, our paths were meant to cross on the outside, and they did.I’m a protector, a provider, and a man, and I don’t think Alaia has ever had that in her life. I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to see to make her mine. She went years without knowing what protection and true love felt like, and I’m stepping up to make sure she doesn’t go another day not knowing how I feel or how I’m coming behind her. If I say she's mine, she's mine, and I've never been afraid to shed blood to prove it.