HATE TO DATE YOU, an all-new standalone contemporary romance in the Dating Series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Monica Murphy, is LIVE!

Stella Ricci is bored.

Her overprotective family barely let her out of their sight, despite the fact she’s a grown woman. Yes, she loves her job at her family’s café and she’s the best barista in the entire Monterey Peninsula, but is that enough? She’s thinking no. But what else can she do?

Enter Carter Abbott. Burnt out after the never-ending grind of selling high end real estate in Los Angeles, he’s returned home, unsure of what to do next. He needs someplace to crash temporarily until he gets back on his feet.

It’s easy for Stella to suggest Carter move in. Temporarily of course. It’ll give her someone to talk to. The only problem?

That one night stand Stella and Carter had about a year ago. They never talked about it. They still don’t really talk about it. Despite the fact that the old chemistry has come back full force. Living together has made that obvious. Should they admit that one night wasn’t enough? Or will dating each other turn into an epic fail?

Only one way to find out…

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Meet Monica:

Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and HarperCollins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult, and contemporary romance.

She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she’s not writing, she’s reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She’s a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.

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Title:  PANTS ON FIRE
Author:  LACEY BLACK
Genre:  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Release Date:  APRIL 7, 2020

Cricket

Success is what you make of it. That’s my motto and the premise of my speech; the one I’m heading back to Southern Illinois University to give at my college alumni reunion. As the morning co-host of Good Morning, San Francisco, I was asked to be one of the keynote speakers, and while I’m honored to do so, there’s only one problem. The other speaker is Danny Ohara, my former boyfriend. Throw in an issue with my credit card that leaves me stuck at the airport, no rental car in sight, until a familiar face appears like a guardian angel in sexy black glasses.

Here’s my dilemma with my attraction to Rueben Rigsby, my airport savior and old friend from college: I’m not supposed to be attracted to him. At all. He’s my ex’s former roommate. Yet that doesn’t stop my big mouth from lying about the status of our relationship when we come face-to-face with said former roommate. As in, we have one.

Together.

Rueben

I don’t know why I agreed to come back to SIU for the alumni reunion, but I’m damn sure glad I did. When I found the familiar face stranded at the airport, I readily agreed to give her a ride. It’s great to catch up with Cricket Hill, as we make our way back to the place we ultimately met. What I’m not prepared for is this overwhelming attraction I feel for her. I’m not supposed to notice how amazing her butt looks in a pair of black yoga pants. She’s a friend. Period.

But Cricket has other plans. When she lies about our budding relationship to my former roommate and her ex, I have no choice but to go along with it to save face. I have to pretend to be her boyfriend. I mean, it’s one little white lie, right?

Wrong.

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“…another winner from Black with endearing characters, a charming, sexy romance and a satisfying blend of heartfelt emotion and humor.”  ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 4.5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Danny does a scan from head to toe, lingering a little too long on my chest. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes, feeling nothing like I felt when Rueben did it earlier tonight. Instead, I want to stab his eyes out with a rusty butter knife and then throw darts at them.

“Good to see you, Cricket,” he finally says when his eyes return to my face.

“I wish I could say the same to you,” I mumble, stepping around him and finding the worn throw line on the marred hardwood floor.

“Come on, Cricket, it’s been ten years. Surely you’re not still pissed off, are you?” he asks, spinning around and following me.

I throw the first dart, ignoring his looming presence beside me. “Actually, yes, yes I am still mad.” I throw the second dart. “You stole my car!” I state as I throw the third one with a little too much force and miss the board completely.

Danny retrieves my three darts before I can, bringing them back to where I stand. “I paid you for your half,” he reminds me, cocking his head to the side as if it’s no big deal.

“Six months after you left!” I thunder, feeling that familiar rage brewing inside me. Instead of punching him in the face—which is taking all the strength I have not to do—I focus straight ahead and throw the darts.

I can feel his eyes on me as I throw and tuning him out is proving to be harder than I’d like.

“You look good,” he says as he retrieves the second round of darts.

“Fuck off.”

Danny sighs and hands me the darts. He watches in silence as I throw the darts a third time. All of my throws are complete shit, probably because I can’t even concentrate on the round board in front of me. It takes all my energy not to turn and “accidentally” toss a dart or two at his head. But then I think about prison and how horrible I’d look in those orange jumpsuits and decide he’s not worth the energy or time. Plus, I’m not that great of a cook and I’d probably get stuck with kitchen detail.

“What do you want?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder and wondering where in the hell Rueben is.

“Saw you over here alone and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

“I’m not alone,” I argue, then wishing I would have kept my mouth shut.

“No?” he asks, glancing around as if calling me on my bluff when he doesn’t see anyone remotely close that could constitute as my date. A knowing grin spreads across his face—one that tells me he thinks I’m lying.

“No,” I insist. “He’s…in the bathroom.”

“Right,” Danny snorts. “It’s okay to be here alone, Cricket. I mean, I’m here alone too.” He takes a step closer and those pesky hairs at the nape of my neck stand at attention again. “Maybe it’s fate that we’re both alone tonight.”

“Or maybe it’s because everyone who knows you knows what kind of an asshole you are and wants nothing to do with you.”

He seems to straighten up at that. “And maybe it’s because you’re cranky and unforgiving and refuse to let the past go.”

I practically growl at him. “Unforgiving? You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’ve forgiven you for taking my job,” he states, crossing his arms over his chest.

That makes me pause. “Excuse me? Taking your job?” What the hell is this guy talking about?

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re the bubbly new co-host of Good Morning, San Francisco?”

I roll my eyes. “That was four years ago, jerk. That position hadn’t been yours in six years. In fact, you were the one who left it, remember?”

He doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. It’s almost like he’s just trying to grate on my nerves, which pisses me off that I’m actually responding at all. It’s like I’m letting him win. “All I’m saying is maybe if you were as bubbly in person as you are on-air, you’d have a date this weekend,” he says with a shrug.

“I do have a date!”

“Really? Where?” he asks, a growing smile on his fucking face as he glance around once more.

Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me. It’s familiar and, unlike Danny, a welcome one. Before I can even think about a consequence or a repercussion, I practically jump up and throw my arms around Rueben’s neck, saying, “He’s right here.”

Then I kiss him.

Hard.

Rueben’s arms wrap around me, drawing me against his body, and two things happen. My body ignites with desire, as if someone doused me with gasoline and lit a match, and the second is he deepens the kiss. His lips are firm, yet soft, as he plies my mouth open, his tongue delving inside and sliding against mine. It’s intoxicating and invigorating, and frankly, out of this fucking world. I have no idea how long we kiss, all I know is I’d be okay with it never ending. His lips are masterful, and frankly, I’ve never been kissed like this before. Ever.

ENTER LACEY’S GIVEAWAY FOR A SIGNED PAPERBACK OF PANTS ON FIRE!

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About Lacey Black:

Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading and writing. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and a chocolate lab. Lacey loves shooting guns and should only consume one mixed drink because she’s a lightweight.

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THE HARDEST PLAY, an all-new standalone sports romance from A.S. Teague is coming April 16th, and I have the gorgeous cover!

It’s easy to convince the world that you have it all…

Cover Designer: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

I’m Quinn Miller­­––record breaking running back, professional football’s favorite rags-to-riches story, all-around good guy.

What’s not so easy? Repairing your reputation after mistakes both on and off the field leave you labeled as a disgrace to the league.

With only one team willing to give me a chance, I have no time for a relationship.

But after one night with Georgia Reed, the hopeless romantic with fiery red hair and an attitude to match, I’m hooked.

With Georgia cheering me on, it doesn’t feel like the world is against me anymore.

That is, until her father steps into the locker room as my new head coach.

Finding the woman of my dreams was the easy part; it’s keeping her that will be the hardest play of all.

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About A. S. Teague:

A.S. Teague enjoys the warmth of South Carolina with her husband and two daughters. The stereotypes about peach cobbler and sweet tea are not overstated. After years in the medical field, she is now enjoying every minute of being a stay-at-home mom. She loves wine, the beach, wine on the beach, and crying at Disney movies. When she doesn’t have a book in her hand, she can be found pestering her husband with pictures of animals she wants to rescue, as well as debating whether to exercise or take a nap.

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MISS TYPED, a sexy new office romance from Aubrey Bondurant, is available now! I’m excited to share an exclusive excerpt, along with an awesome giveaway and my 5 smooches review with you today!

Title:  MISS TYPED
Series:  MISS #2
Author:  AUBREY BONDURANT
Genre:  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Release Date:  APRIL 3, 2020

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“…an addictive romance between a tortured, alpha-male military hero and a strong, sassy woman guiding him to love.”  ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

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ENTER AUBREY’S GIVEAWAY FOR A $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD!

From New York Times Bestselling Author, Corinne Michaels, comes a riveting new, emotional second-chance standalone love story on May 19, 2020!

I fell in love with Sydney Hastings when I was ten years old.

At sixteen, we whispered promises of forever.

When I was twenty-two I broke them all. I left her and promised never to return.

After my father’s death, I’m forced to go home to Sugarloaf for six months. She’ll be everywhere, no longer just in my memories and regrets.

When we’re together, it’s as though time never stopped. She’s still the one I want, but I don’t deserve her. Instead of apologizing, I take that beautiful, broken woman in my arms. But after that, it’s her turn to leave me.

Now I have to fight. For her. For us. For the life we both want …

Cover Designer: Sommer Stein from Perfect Pear    |    Photographer: Brian Kaminski

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About Corrine Michaels:

New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Corinne Michaels is the author of ten romance novels. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.

After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.

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FROM BLOOD AND ASH, a captivating, sexy and action-packed high fantasy novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout, is available now!

“Action, adventure, sexiness, and angst! From Blood and Ash has it all and double that. So many feels and so many moments it made me cheer for the character. Read. This. Book! You’ll be obsessed!”   ~Tijan, New York Times bestselling author

If you love forbidden romance, this book is for you. If you love snark, this book is for you. If you love action and intrigue, edge of your seat moments and being caught off guard by what you’re reading, this book is for you. And if you’ve been missing . . . vampires in your life, this book is for you.

A Maiden…

Chosen from birth to usher in a new era, Poppy’s life has never been her own. The life of the Maiden is solitary. Never to be touched. Never to be looked upon. Never to be spoken to. Never to experience pleasure. Waiting for the day of her Ascension, she would rather be with the guards, fighting back the evil that took her family, than preparing to be found worthy by the gods. But the choice has never been hers.

A Duty…

The entire kingdom’s future rests on Poppy’s shoulders, something she’s not even quite sure she wants for herself. Because a Maiden has a heart. And a soul. And longing. And when Hawke, a golden-eyed guard honor bound to ensure her Ascension, enters her life, destiny and duty become tangled with desire and need. He incites her anger, makes her question everything she believes in, and tempts her with the forbidden.

A Kingdom…

Forsaken by the gods and feared by mortals, a fallen kingdom is rising once more, determined to take back what they believe is theirs through violence and vengeance. And as the shadow of those cursed draws closer, the line between what is forbidden and what is right becomes blurred. Poppy is not only on the verge of losing her heart and being found unworthy by the gods, but also her life when every blood-soaked thread that holds her world together begins to unravel.

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About Jennifer L. Armentrout:

#1 New York Times and #1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. She spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband and her Border Jack Apollo. In early 2015, Jennifer was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a group of rare genetic disorders that involve a breakdown and death of cells in the retina, eventually resulting in loss of vision, among other complications. Due to this diagnosis, educating people on the varying degrees of blindness has become of passion of hers, right alongside writing, which she plans to do as long as she can.

Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Tor, HarperCollins Avon and William Morrow, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her Wicked Series has been optioned by PassionFlix. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. Her adult romantic suspense novel TILL DEATH was a Amazon Editor’s Pick and iBook Book of the Month. Her young adult contemporary THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER is a 2017 RITA Award Winner in Young Adult Fiction. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

She is the owner of ApollyCon and The Origin Event, the successful annual events that features over a hundred bestselling authors in Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult Fiction, panels, parties, and more.

Connect with Jennifer L. Armentrout

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SEXY LOVE, a Sexy series 1,001 Dark Nights novella from New York Times Bestselling Author Carly Phillips, is available now! I’m excited to share this exclusive excerpt and the video trailer with you today!

SEXY LOVE by Carly Phillips

A Sexy Series Novella brought to you by 1,001 Dark Nights

About SEXY LOVE:

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Carly Phillips comes a new story in her Sexy series…

Learning curves have never been so off-limits.

Professor Shane Warden is on the verge of getting tenure. He never thought he’d see the day, after a false accusation from a student years ago that nearly destroyed his career, and decimated his ability to trust. But the moment he walks into class and lays eyes on the seductive blonde with legs that go on forever and lips he immediately wants to kiss, he knows he’s in trouble.

This time for real.

Single mom Amber Davis is finally living her dream of going back to college. In the ten years since she dropped out to have a baby–and recover from his father’s death–it’s been the goal that always felt just out of reach. Until now. But one look at her hot, sexy professor, and Amber is head over heels in lust. It doesn’t take long before their attraction blazes out of control.

Neither of them can afford a forbidden affair.
Yet it’s the one thing they are powerless to stop.

It will only take one hint of a rumor to destroy everything they’ve worked so hard to achieve… and in this case the rumors are true.

**For fans of Carly’s Sexy Series, Sexy Love is book four in that series.**

**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

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EXCERPT:

Shane Warden pushed his chair back from his computer, rose to his feet and stretched, his back aching from all the hours he’d put in at the desk in his office. If he didn’t know better, he’d never believe he’d gone to the gym this morning to work out. But he had. Then he’d showered, come back here, and had gotten into the zone on his research, losing track of time, skipping lunch and working through the afternoon. Now, almost dinner hour, his stomach was grumbling and he was way overdue for a long walk and some food.

He strode through campus, the sight of students sporadic, as summer session didn’t lend itself to kids hanging out on the lawns and in the student union. But the Circle, a cul-de-sac with a variety of restaurants and eateries, was open year round, and he decided to head there for dinner.

As he walked, he opened his phone and skimmed the progress he’d made on the paper he was working on. Another couple of years and he hoped to move into a tenured position, something he would have thought impossible a few years ago. Shaking his head before he went there, he refocused on the words on the screen, a deep dive into a paper dealing with advanced quantitative economic theory and…

He bumped into someone, jolting himself and causing his phone to fall to the ground at the same time he reached out to steady whoever he’d crashed into. His hands wrapped around soft flesh and obviously feminine arms. A floral fragrance reached his nostrils, and he found himself breathing in for a deeper whiff of the tantalizing scent.

“I’m sorry!” the woman said as he helped stabilize her before letting her go and retrieving his cell.

“My fault. I was reading on my phone.” He looked up and found himself staring into arresting light blue eyes surrounded by blonde hair that had been pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, with sexy stray strands falling around her face.

“And I was looking at the directions on my screen. I’m new to the area,” she explained, biting down on her full lower lip.

“Where are you headed?” He hoped she was going his way despite the fact that she was, in fact, walking in the opposite direction.

VIDEO BOOK TRAILER:

PRAISE FOR CARLY PHILLIPS:

“Love Carly Phillips and a curvy woman as our main gal? Um, sign ME UP! There aren’t enough books out there like this, and I love the Dare brothers.”  ~Rachel Van Dyken, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

“Carly Phillips brings on the swoon. A must read.”  ~Natasha Madison, USA Today Bestselling Author

“Carly sure knows how to write intense and real stories that make you fall in love with the characters and want the best for them.”  ~Karen, Goodreads Reviewer

“Woah. Once again Carly Phillips has delivered another emotional rollercoaster plot that had me complete spellbound from page one, all the way through till the last page of the book.”  ~The Sassy Nerd Blog

About Carly Phillips:

Carly Phillips is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels, including the Indie published, Dare to Love Series. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers.

Connect with Carly:

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THE SINNER, a passionate new novel in J.R. Ward’s #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series, is available now, and I have an exclusive excerpt for you!

THE SINNER

The Black Dagger Brotherhood series

by J. R. Ward

On Sale: March 24, 2020

A sinner’s only hope is true love in this passionate new novel in J.R. Ward’s #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series.

Syn has kept his side hustle as a mercenary a secret from the Black Dagger Brotherhood. When he takes another hit job, he not only crosses the path of the vampire race’s new enemy, but also that of a half-breed in danger of dying during her transition. Jo Early has no idea what her true nature is, and when a mysterious man appears out of the darkness, she is torn between their erotic connection and the sense that something is very wrong.

Fate anointed Butch O’Neal as the Dhestroyer, the fulfiller of the prophecy that foresees the end of the Omega. As the war with the Lessening Society comes to a head, Butch gets an unexpected ally in Syn. But can he trust the male—or is the warrior with the bad past a deadly complication?

With time running out, Jo gets swept up in the fighting and must join with Syn and the Brotherhood against true evil. In the end, will love true prevail…or was the prophecy wrong all along?

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EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEEK!

Route 149
Caldwell, New York

Behind the wheel of her ten-year-old car, Jo Early bit into the Slim Jim and chewed like it was her last meal. She hated the fake-smoke taste and the boat-rope texture, and when she swallowed the last piece, she got another one out of her bag. Ripping the wrapper with her teeth, she peeled the taxidermied tube free and littered into the wheel well of her passenger side. There were so many spent casings like it down there, you couldn’t see the floor mat.

Up ahead, her anemic headlights swung around a curve, illuminating pine trees that had been limbed up three quarters of the way, the puff y tops making toothpicks out of the trunks. She hit a pothole and bad-swallowed, and she was coughing as she reached her destination.

The abandoned Adirondack Outlets was yet another commentary on the pervasiveness of Amazon Prime. The one story strip mall was a horseshoe without a hoof, the storefronts along the two long sides bearing the remnants of their brands, faded laminations and off -kilter signs with names like Van Heusen/Izod, and Nike, and Dansk the ghosts of commerce past. Behind dusty glass, there was no merchandise available for purchase anymore, and no one had been on the property with a charge card for at least a year, only hardscrabble weeds in the cracks of the promenade and barn swallows in the eaves inhabiting the site. Likewise, the food court that united the eastern and western arms was no longer offering soft serve or Starbucks or lunch.

As a hot flash cranked her internal temperature up, she cracked the window. And then put the thing all the way down. March in Caldwell, New York, was like winter in a lot of places still considered northerly in latitude, and thank God for it. Breathing in the cold, damp air, she told herself this was not a bad idea.

Nah, not at all. Here she was, alone at midnight, chasing down the lead on a story she wasn’t writing for her employer, the Caldwell Courier Journal. Without anyone at her new apartment waiting up for her. Without anyone on the planet who would claim her mangled corpse when it was found from the smell in a ditch a week from now.

Letting the car roll to a stop, she killed the headlights and stayed where she was. No moon out tonight so she’d dressed right. All black. But without any illumination from the heavens, her eyes strained at the darkness, and not because she was greedy to see the details on the decaying structure.

Nope. At the moment, she was worried she was about to provide fodder for True Crime Garage. As unease tickled her nape, like someone was trying to get her attention by running the point of a carving knife over her skin—

Her stomach let out a howl and she jumped. Without any debate, she went diving into her purse again. Passing by the three Slim Jims she had left, she went straight-up Hershey this time, and the efficiency with which she stripped that mass-produced chocolate of its clothing was a sad commentary on her diet. When she was finished, she was still hungry and not because there wasn’t food in her belly. As always, the only two things she could eat failed to satisfy her gnawing craving, to say nothing of her nutritional needs.

Putting up her window, she took her backpack and got out. The crackling sound of the treads of her running shoes on the shoulder of the road seemed loud as a concert, and she wished she wasn’t getting over a cold. Like her sense of smell could be helpful, though? And when was the last time she’d considered that possibility outside of a milk carton check.

She really needed to give these wild-goose chases up.

Two-strapping her backpack, she locked the car and pulled the hood of her windbreaker up over her red hair. No heel toeing. She leftright-left’d it, keeping the soles of her Brooks flat to quiet her footfalls. As her eyes adjusted, all she saw were the shadows around her, the hidey-holes in corners and nooks formed by the mall’s doorways and the benches pockets of gotcha with which mashers could play a grown‑up’s game of keep away until they were ready to attack.

When she got to a heavy chain that was strung across the entry to the promenade, she looked around. There was nobody in the parking lots that ran down the outside of the flanks. No one in the center area formed by the open-ended rectangle. Not a soul on the road that she had taken up to this rise above Rt. 149.

Jo told herself that this was good. It meant no one was going to jump her.

Her adrenal glands, on the other hand, informed her that this actually meant no one was around to hear her scream for help.

Refocusing on the chain, she had some thought that if she swung her leg over it and proceeded on the other side, she would not come back the same.

“Stop it,” she said, kicking her foot up.

She chose the right side of the stores, and as rain started to fall, she was glad the architect had thought to cover the walkways overhead. What had been not so smart was anyone thinking a shopping center with no interior corridors could survive in a zip code this close to Canada. Saving ten bucks on a pair of candlesticks or a bathing suit was not going to keep anybody warm enough to shop outside October to April, and that was true even before you factored in the current era of free next-day shipping.

Down at the far end, she stopped at what had to have been the ice cream place because there was a faded stencil of a cow holding a triple decker cone by its hoof on the window. She got out her phone.

Her call was answered on the first ring.

“Are you okay?” Bill said.

“Where am I going?” she whispered. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s in the back. I told you that you have to go around back, remember?”

“Damn it.” Maybe the nitrates had fried her brain. “Hold on, I think I found a staircase.”

“I should come out there.”

Jo started walking again and shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m fine—yup, I’ve got the cut through to the rear. I’ll call you if I need you—”

“You shouldn’t be doing this alone!”

Ending the connection, she jogged down the concrete steps, her pack bouncing like it was doing push-ups on her back. As she bottomed out on the lower level, she scanned the empty parking lot—

The stench that stabbed into her nose was the kind of thing that triggered her gag reflex. Roadkill . . . and baby powder?

She looked to the source. The maintenance building by the tree line had a corrugated metal roof and metal walls that would not survive long in tornado alley. Half the size of a football field, with garage doors locked to the ground, she imagined it could have housed paving equipment as well as blowers, mowers, and snowplows.

The sole person-sized door was loose, and as a stiff gust from the rainstorm caught it, the creak was straight out of a George Romero movie—and then the panel immediately slammed shut with a clap, as if Mother Nature didn’t like the stink any more than Jo did.

Taking out her phone, she texted Bill: This smell is nasty.

Aware that her heart rate just tripled, she walked across the asphalt, the rain hitting the hood of her windbreaker in a disorganized staccato. Ducking her hand under the loose nylon of the jacket, she felt for her holstered gun and kept her hand on the butt.

The door creaked open and slammed shut again, another puff of that smell releasing out of the pitch-black interior. Swallowing through throat spasms, she had to fight to keep going and not because there was wind in her face.

When she stopped in front of the door, the opening and closing ceased, as if now that she was on the verge of entering, it didn’t need to catch her attention and draw her in.

So help her God, if Pennywise was on the other side . . .

Glancing around to check there were no red balloons lolling in the area, she reached out for the door.

I just have to know, she thought as she opened the way in. I need to . . . know.

Leaning around the jamb, she saw absolutely nothing, and yet was frozen by all that she confronted. Pure evil, the kind of thing that abducted and murdered children, that slaughtered the innocent, that enjoyed the suffering of the just and merciful, pushed at her body and then penetrated it, radiation that was toxic passing through to her bones.

Coughing, she stepped back and covered her mouth and nose with the crook of her elbow. After a couple of deep breaths into her sleeve, she fumbled with her phone.

Before Bill could say anything over the whirring in his background, she bit out, “You need to come—”

“I’m already halfway to you.”

“Good.”

“What’s going on—”

Jo ended the call again and got out her flashlight, triggering the beam. Stepping forward again, she shouldered the door open and trained the spear of illumination into the space.

The light was consumed.

Sure as if she were shining it into a bolt of thick fabric, the fragile glowing shaft was no match for what she was about to enter.

The threshold she stepped over was nothing more than weather stripping, but the inch-high lip was a barrier that felt like an obstacle course she could barely surmount—and then there was the stickiness on the floor. Pointing the flashlight to the ground, she picked up one of her feet. Something like old motor oil dripped off her running shoe, the sound of it finding home echoing in the empty space.

As Jo walked forward, she found the first of the buckets on the left. Home Depot. With an orange-and-white logo smudged by a rusty, translucent substance that turned her stomach.

The beam wobbled as she looked into the cylinder, her hand shaking. Inside there was a gallon of glossy, gleaming… red… liquid. And in the back of her throat, she tasted copper—

Jo wheeled around with the flashlight.

Through the doorway, the two men who had come up behind her without a sound loomed as if they had risen out of the pavement itself, wraiths conjured from her nightmares, fed by the cold spring rain, clothed in the night. One of them had a goatee and tattoos at one of his temples, a cigarette between his lips and a downright nasty expression on his hard face. The other wore a Boston Red Sox hat and a long camel-colored coat, the tails of which blew in slow motion even though the wind was choppy. Both had long black blades holstered handles down on their chest, and she knew there were more weapons where she couldn’t see them.

They had come to kill her. Tracked her as she’d moved away from her car. Seen her as she had not seen them.

Jo stumbled back and tried to get out her gun, but her sweaty palms had her dropping her phone and struggling to keep the flashlight—

And then she couldn’t move.

Even as her brain ordered her feet to run, her legs to run, her body to run, nothing obeyed the panic-commands, her muscles twitching under the lockdown of some invisible force of will, her bones aching, her breath turning into a pant. Pain firework’d her brain, a headache sizzling through her mind.

Opening her mouth, she screamed—

About J.R. Ward:

J.R. Ward is the author of more than thirty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. There are more than fifteen million copies of her novels in print worldwide, and they have been published in twenty-six different countries around the world. She lives in the South with her family.

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