Tag: Rachel Van Dyken

New Release ☆ Capture (Seaside Pictures #1) by Rachel Van Dyken

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Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair.
But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window.
Dani lives anything but a normal life.
Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood.
Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.
And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime.
But that doesn’t change the fact their parents are dead.

Or that it’s her fault.

It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on
the outside.
That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer.
He’s gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.
But that doesn’t stop her from wondering…if things were different…would he want her?
If she was whole, would he be the other half?

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EXCERPT
“Finally!” Jaymeson pointed at both of us. “Lincoln, show her to her mark. Dani, for this scene you’re simply staring at him like you want to eat him. Think you can do that?”
I nodded.
Any woman could do that.
Most men too.
“Cue music!” Jaymeson called out. “Action.”
A techno mix of AD2’s latest song filled the air as the extras started dancing around us. I stayed glued to the wall while Lincoln delivered his lines to Pris, and then he lifted his head, meeting my gaze.
It’s just a movie. It’s just a movie.
The breath left my chest on one slow exhale as he moved toward me, his body making fluid purposeful movements through the crowd.
My lips parted; my entire body felt heavy as he approached.
He stopped in front of me, his forehead grazing mine as he leaned in a few inches. Our breath mingled as the music and scene faded around me.
“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.
Holy crap on a cracker. I almost experienced my first stroke — at seventeen.
“You okay?” Lincoln’s eyebrows knit together in concern.
I licked the lipstick from my lips and nodded quickly.
Jaymeson approached. “Time for the kiss, remember kissing, not hockey. Clearly, you were confused earlier.”
Lincoln gritted his teeth and let out a little groan.
I patted his arm and grinned, my way of encouraging him. He seemed to pale more.
My stomach sank.
Maybe it was me.
I was the problem.
Not the kiss, but me. If he’d had trouble kissing my gorgeous sister, how was he going to be able to kiss me?
“Hey…” Lincoln cupped my cheek. “… focus on me, nothing else, alright? It’s only us.”
I nodded.
“You ever been to a party?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Ever made out with a guy at a party that wasn’t your boyfriend?”
I thought about it then slowly shook my head.
“So that’s what this scene is about. It’s about a guy seeing a girl from across the room and wanting her so badly that he’s willing to cheat on his own girlfriend for just one taste. Granted, he’s supposedly drunk and high, but that just takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it?”
He released my cheek and stepped back. “Imagine you’re trying to attract me, make your body as inviting as possible. Hell, just stand there and look at me, and you’ll sell it.”
Sell it. I repeated the words in my mind.
I could do that.
Because I wanted him to kiss me.
It made my heart beat faster.
My blood pump harder.
And for the first time since my parents’ death, I was actually excited about something. Nervous, but excited.
“Okay,” I mouthed.
I must have surprised him again because his eyes darkened, and then he grinned. “One day, Dani. One day I’m going to hear my name coming from that gorgeous mouth of yours, and I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions… damn the consequences.”
My breath hitched.
“Quiet on set! And action!”
There was no warning. Suddenly, Lincoln’s mouth was fused against mine, no teeth, just his soft lips pushing, prodding, moving slowly back and forth until his tongue slid through and made contact with mine.
Heart racing, I opened my mouth enough to deepen the kiss as heat washed over me.
He groaned and dug his fingers into my shoulders then slid his hands down my back and gripped my butt. I let out a squeak of surprise as I flicked his tongue with mine.
“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.
I kept kissing.
So did Lincoln.
His chest brushed roughly against mine; my breasts ached at the sharp contact. I let out a little hiss at the exact time Linc let out a groan and nudged his knee between my legs.
“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled again.
Slowly, Lincoln pried himself away from me, chest heaving.
“Good enough,” said Jaymeson.
“No,” Lincoln argued without taking his wild grey eyes off me, “I went off script. We need to do it again.”
“The hell you do,” someone mumbled. I wasn’t surprised to see Demetri glaring daggers at Lincoln’s back. Alec was next to Jaymeson, giving him an earful. I noted the strong tick in his jaw.
“Fine.” Jaymeson waved them both off. “We’ll do it again.”
“Take two, and action!”
This time the kiss was slow, languid in its movements. Hot waves of pleasure coursed through my body as his tongue slid seductively pass my lips. His taste, the feel of his mouth was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Greedily, I moaned, desperate for more of him as I reached for his shirt then fisting it with my hands and tugging him tighter against my body, wanting more contact with him. I felt every plane of muscle as he slowly turned us so his back was semi facing the camera. His knee nudged my legs apart as pressure increased down the middle of my body. I hadn’t really looked long at the script, but I was pretty sure that this wasn’t part of it.
Not that I was complaining.
He rocked into me, my back connected with the wall. With a possessive growl, he nipped my lower lip then started kissing down my neck. Kissing in public had never been my thing — but maybe that was because I’d never kissed Lincoln.
I would kiss him anywhere.
All he needed to do was ask.
Body humming with pleasure, I let out a little gasp as his warm lips met the pulse on my neck. Then his tongue licked where his lips had just been.
His knee rose higher and higher as my body sank onto his; the first contact of his leg had my body screaming with pleasure — just a little higher, just a little more.
“Cut!” someone shouted, though it didn’t sound like Jaymeson.
Suddenly, Demetri was pulling Lincoln away from me and glaring daggers at both of us. “I think you guys got the scene.”
Embarrassed, I looked down, tucking my silky hair behind my ear. Did I really almost just dry hump Lincoln Greene’s leg? In front of about twenty people, including my sister?
“You sure?” Lincoln asked, voice hoarse. I glanced up at him, his chest was heaving with exertion, his lips swollen. “Because I could have sworn I messed up my lines.”
“There are no lines, you bastard,” Demetri muttered under his breath.
“Damn it!” Jaymeson shouted. “Hey, guys, I’m going to need you to shoot it one more time. Remember, Lincoln, you’re supposed to proposition her.”
Lincoln grinned smugly at Demetri.
Demetri didn’t move.
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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency
and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking
coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from
readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken
or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com


Pre-Release Launch ☆ Capture by Rachel Van Dyken

Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair.

But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window.

Dani lives anything but a normal life.

Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.

And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime.

But that doesn’t change the fact their parents are dead.

Or that it’s her fault.
It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on the outside.

That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer.

He’s gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.

But that doesn’t stop her from wondering…if things were different…would he want her?

If she was whole, would he be the other half?

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EXCERPT

“You kiss my wife and enjoy it, I remove your balls in your sleep.” Jaymeson said in a chipper voice as he slapped me on the back.
“Always great working with a real professional, Jaymeson, always great,” I muttered.
“Here’s a tip,” Jaymeson whispered in a low voice so Pris couldn’t hear us. “Get it done on the first take so I don’t have to cause an on-set accident where I set your trailer on fire and blame it on God smiting you for being a Hollywood heathen.”
“Heathen?” I repeated with a smirk. “Isn’t that the part I’m playing? I thought Demetri was hot for Nat, so doesn’t that mean I need to be hot for your wife? Your very…” I glanced at Pris. “…lovely wife?”
“Bastard. I should never have cast you!”
I burst out laughing. “Jay, you know I’m messing with you. I’m professional. That’s why you cast me, because in a sea of Hollywood heathens, I’m the only one who wouldn’t make a pass at your wife.”
He shrugged. “True. Also you may be passable in the whole looks department, or so I’ve been told by numerous people on set.”
“Jealous?”
“Hardly.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Jamie Jaymeson. Women tattoo my name on their asses and ask me to sign their boobs.”
“You signed whose boobs?” Pris asked, sneaking up on our conversation.
“My grandma’s,” I blurted. “She’s such—” I wrapped an arm around Jaymeson and squeezed. “—a huge fan.”
“Right.” Jaymeson coughed. “It’s always such a thrill, signing elderly ladies tits. Hey, you think I should do a nursing home tour?”
“Yeah, man.” I nodded. “Dream big.”
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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking
coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website.

New Release ❤︎ The Consequence of Loving Colton by Rachel Van Dyken

It’s all fun and games…until someone’s heart is broken.
They’re not kids anymore, but Milo Caro is certain that
Colton Mathews will only see her as his best friend’s little sister for the
rest of their lives. After all, he made that clear the night before she left
for college. But four years later, her brother is getting married and Colt’s
the best man—and guess who is the best man’s last-minute date?
Milo vows to use the wedding to either claim the smoldering
firefighter’s heart or douse this torch for good. When Max—her best friend from
college, who may be carrying a torch of his own—crashes the party, they devise
a plan to make Colt see what he’s missing. But after Colt catches on, he
decides to cook up his own revenge.
Now it’s personal. Colt and Milo are at war, and between
Max’s questionable acting methods, an unfortunate trip to jail, and a maniacal
fiancée, what could possibly go right?
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“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max gave me a tender shove. “We were fine until you started stepping on my foot and elbowing me!”

“You were hitting on my mom!”

“She’s a beautiful lady!” he argued.

“Oh, my gosh.” I fell into one of the chairs and moaned. “This is a catastrophe.”

“Not true.” Max shook his head. “You just have to be more believable. I mean, would it kill you to find me screw-worthy?”

“Screw-worthy? What does that even mean?”

“That’s it.” Max grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Uh . . .” I pointed.

With a jerk he had me in the bathroom under the stairs and closed the door. Words and sounds were coming out of his mouth but I couldn’t make anything out. Max pushed me against the door and pointed his finger in my face. “I’m going to kiss you, damn it, and you’re going to like it. And I’m going to take off my shirt and you’re going to manhandle me, and you’re going to stop being so damn nervous or so help me God I’m going to bend you over that sofa in the living room and spank your sexy ass.”

Shocked, I was paralyzed in place. “Where did that come from?”

“Inside.” Max looked at me and smirked. “I have lots of feelings and I’m sick and tired of you looking at me like I don’t have a penis. I may be used to your innocence but for my own pride at least try to be attracted to me. Now close your damn eyes.”

“Stop cursing at me.”

“Stop being difficult! I’m trying to help you. And stop squirming. Shit, take a Xanax or something.”

“Max.” I closed my eyes and huffed. “This isn’t going to—”

My hand was on something hard.

I blinked my eyes open.

Since when did he have a six-pack?

I tilted my head, you know, to get a better look. His skin was really smooth but bumpy, each muscle defined so much that there was enough of a ridge for my hands to play with.

“Oh, look, he’s a man after all,” Max said, sounding bored. “I’m not your sexless friend. I’m not your damn brother. I’m not your gay friend. And I sure as hell am not thinking about anything right now except that your hands feel really good against my skin. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to respond like the idea of my mouth on yours doesn’t make you want to cry—and you’ll like it.”

“I’ll like it,” I repeated.

“There’s my girl.” His eyes flashed, and then he was kissing me again, only this time his body was on fire as it pressed against me. I felt every ridge of his abs; the length of his body was beyond devastating.

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

New Release to Benefit Parkinson’s Disease Research ❤︎ Fever Anthology

11046427_10205381795400309_1865748429750626430_nSome of today’s hottest authors and steamy stories together in a scorching anthology to benefit Parkinson’s Disease research. 

Chelle Bliss – Hook Me 
Stacy Borel – Touching Scars 
MJ Carnal – Liquid Regret 
Claire Contreras – Catch Me 
BJ Harvey – Temporary Bliss 
Liz King – Make My Heart Beat 
Aurora Rose Reynolds – Assumption 
Harper Sloan – Axel 
Skye Turner – Alluring Turmoil 
Rachel Van Dyken – Bang Bang 

Join NY Times, USA TODAY and bestselling authors as they contribute 100% of proceeds to “Team Fever” benefiting the Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. 10 authors, 10 steamy stories, one scorching hot anthology! Fever! Catch it today

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Excerpt ❤︎ Ember (Eagle Elite #5) by Rachel Van Dyken

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RELEASE DATE: FEB 19

I am a Killer. A Rapist. A Monster.

I know only pain and survival.

That is until the Cappo’s sister walked into my life.

And changed everything.

She’s a light who makes my darkness darker, her smile makes my heart turn to ice, and I can’t escape the fear her seductive looks instill–knowing it’s only a matter of time before I fail–again, and take her for myself.

This is the story of my redemption.

But it’s not pretty…I died, and now I’m alive, but not living, breathing but not surviving. I am Phoenix De Lange, son to a murdered mob boss, estranged brother, horrible friend, monster in the making, newest leader to one of the most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra.

And I will have my vengeance.

Or die trying.

I am Phoenix De Lange.

Death is all I know.

Until she offers me a piece of life–I can’t resist taking.

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EXCERPTS

PROLOGUE:

Phoenix

“Do it,” my father spat. “Or I will.”

I looked at the girl at my feet and back at my father. “No.”

He lifted his hand above my head; I knew what was coming, knew it would hurt like hell but had no way to fight back — he’d already starved me of my food for the past three days for arguing, for trying to save the girl and her cousin.

His fist hit my temple so hard that I fell to the ground with a cry. The click of his boots against the cement gave me the only warning I’d have as he reared back and kicked me in the ribs; over and over again he kicked. The girl screamed, but I stayed silent. Screaming didn’t help; nothing did.

I waited until he was done — I prayed that he would kill me this time. I prayed so hard that I was convinced God was finally going to hear me and take me away from my hell. Anything was better than living. Anything.

“You worthless—” Another kick to the head. “—piece of shit!” A kick to my gut. “You will never be boss, not if you cry every time you must do the hard thing!” Finally, blessed darkness enveloped my line of vision.

I woke up from the nightmare screaming, not even realizing that I was safe, in my own bed. With a curse I checked the clock.

Three a.m.

Well, at least I’d only had one nightmare — that I’d remembered. I’d been living with Sergio for the past week; his house was so big that I’d basically taken the east wing, and he’d taken the West, said he’d hated living alone anyway. I wasn’t stupid; I knew the guy wasn’t exactly a big fan, but it worked. I needed to stay in the States while I figured shit out.

And I wasn’t ready to leave. Not when I needed to learn all I could from Nixon. Not when I had responsibility.

And not when I had those black folders freaking burning a hole in my mind.

Luca hadn’t just left me an empire; he’d left me secrets. I wasn’t sure what was worse, knowing everything there was to know about those I was supposed to be protecting or knowing that at any minute one of them could turn on us.

“Hey!” Bee barged into my room.

“Damn it!” I pulled the blankets over my naked body, my heart picking up speed at her tousled hair and bedroom eyes. Tex’s sister, Tex’s sister. My body wasn’t accepting that — physically it wasn’t accepting any information other than she was beautiful.

And it was dark.

I looked away, scowling.

“I heard screaming.” Bee took a step forward, her perfume floating off her body like an aphrodisiac or drug, making me calm, making me want something I had no business wanting.

“Yeah, well…” I gave her a cold glance. “…clearly I’m fine, so you should go. Actually, why are you here? You know you live with Tex, right?”

She shrugged and sat on my bed. I clenched my fists around the blankets to keep from reaching out to her. It was getting harder and harder to ignore her warmth — when I lived in a constant state of near-death cold.

“He’s with Mo, and they need privacy. I’m not stupid. So I asked Sergio if I could move in for a while.”

“You did what?” I asked in a deadly tone, one I was sure would probably give her nightmares later.

She grinned. “I’m your new roomie!” Bee bounced on the bed and sent me a shy look from beneath her dark lashes. “Admit it, you miss our slumber parties.”

Forget the nightmare — I was looking at it.

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rachelborderAbout Rachel Van Dyken:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

 NEWSLETTER❤︎FACEBOOK❤︎TWITTER❤︎GOODREADS❤︎AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Release Day ❤︎ Ember (Eagle Elite Book 5) by Rachel Van Dyken

I am a Killer. A Rapist. A Monster.
I know only pain and survival.
That is until the Cappo’s sister walked into my life.
And changed everything.
She’s a light who makes my darkness darker, her smile makes
my heart turn to ice, and I can’t escape the fear her seductive looks
instill–knowing it’s only a matter of time before I fail–again, and take her
for myself.
This is the story of my redemption.
But it’s not pretty…I died, and now I’m alive, but not
living, breathing but not surviving. I am Phoenix De Lange, son to a murdered
mob boss, estranged brother, horrible friend, monster in the making, newest
leader to one of the most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra.
And I will have my vengeance.
Or die trying.
I am Phoenix De Lange.
Death is all I know.
Until she offers me a piece of life–I can’t resist taking.
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Once we were on the road, Phoenix chose the correct music for our drive. I say correct because, according to him, one didn’t start the day listening to hip-hop or anything remotely fun. No. Mr. Rogers had me listening to classical music.

Classical.

Mozart, to be exact.

Not that I wasn’t a fan of the arts, but really? It just seemed so against what you would expect from him. He was the bad boy personified; like, if you put his name in the dictionary, right next to it would be “And mothers warned their daughters to stay away, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and that heart wants that body… bad.”

He was all lean muscle and tight abs.

And I could have sworn he had a dimple, but I’d never actually seen it. Phoenix’s dimple was like Bigfoot; I’d seen glimpses in pictures and via rumors, but I had never actually seen it for myself.

One day.

One day I’d catch it and take a mental picture or five. Maybe ten. Needless to say, I knew that if I had one of his smiles, it would be a magical thing.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard I had a brief moment of panic thinking he was actually going to rip the thing from the dash and have a breakdown. Sad part? I half-expected it. He wasn’t acting normal… well, he was always moody, but this morning he seemed downright suicidal.

“So…” I tried to zone out the instruments assaulting my sanity. “You went to Eagle Elite, right?”

He was quiet for a minute then gave a swift nod.

“Wow, don’t talk so fast. I almost didn’t get all that.”

And crickets. Again.

I cleared my throat. “You graduate?”

“Sort of.”

“How do you sort of graduate?”

“Did you bring lunch money?” He asked in a tight voice.

I gaped. “Did you just ask me if I brought lunch money?”

He shrugged.

“You’re driving me to school, forcing Mozart on my poor sensitive morning ears, and just asked me if I had money for milk.”

“I’m concerned about you eating. Sue me.”

“Pretty sure the Nicolasi boss can afford to spare me a few dollars for a sandwich and a can of pop.”

“No pop.”

“Who died and made you my grandpa? Seriously. I want to know so I can steal your gun and point it at them.”

“Nobody touches my gun.”

“Which one?” I smirked, hoping he’d find the humor in my sexual innuendo, but who was I kidding? It was Phoenix. He simply grunted, rolled his eyes, and kept driving.

In a moment of pure rebellion, I undid the first two buttons of my white, collared shirt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice calm, his eyes still on the road.

“Wow, you really are like a parent. You can see me even when you aren’t looking.”

“Button that shit to your chin before I pull this car over.”

“Put on Jay-Z, and we’ll talk.”

More cursing.

I undid another button.

“Son of a bitch, you’re annoying.”

“Is this our first lovers’ spat?”

“Were there drugs in your toast?” He finally glanced at me, his blue eyes chilling me to the bone. “Be serious. I don’t want to get called into the dean’s office because you’re high.”

“Do I look like I’m on drugs?”

“Is this a trick question?”

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ELICIT
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Elect:

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Entice:

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Elicit:

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BANG BANG:
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ENFORCE:

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.


She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

 

Release Day ❤︎ When Ash Falls by Rachel Van Dyken

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#1 New York Times Bestselling Author Rachel Van Dyken returns
to regency romance with the last and final installment in The London Fairy
Tales series…A regency retelling of Snow White and The Seven Dwarves.

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Ashton Wolfsbane,
Earl of Gyles, has taken a vow of celibacy after blaming himself for his sister
in laws death. After a failed suicide attempt, he’s dedicated his life to bring
justice to the weak making it his personal vendetta to be the death dealer to
the wicked, also known as The Grimm Reaper. He denies himself lusts of the
flesh and is known throughout London because of his ability to kill
effortlessly and without emotion, that is until he meets Princess Sofia, a
woman hell bent on making him forget all his reasons for denying himself the
one thing he’s always craved—love.

After rescuing the
fair damsel, he thinks his job finished, that is until he discovers he’s to be
the Princess’s escort throughout London until she’s safely married. It wouldn’t
be such a hardship, except the Princess has made him an offer he can’t refuse.
Show her passion, real passion.

Four weeks of
giving into the desire he’s suppressed for so long–four weeks of bliss and
then they’ll go their separate ways. But things aren’t always what they seem,
and when rescuing a damsel, or making a deal with her, one must always be
prepared for the consequences.

Seven Royal Guard,
a Beast, a kingdom in chaos, and a girl as pure as the driven snow…Will they
find their Happily Ever After?

AMAZON  ❤︎  BARNES & NOBLE  ❤︎  SMASHWORDS  ❤︎  iBooks
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PROLOGUE
Ash didn’t want to remember her this way. Her beautiful face, so often lit with a breathtaking smile, was now cold and dead.
The first time he’d seen her, he had thought she was an angel, and he’d said that very thing under his breath when she had made her debut that season…
“Beautiful,” he murmured as Lucy took a turn about the room, gaining introductions to all the available gentlemen who came her way. Taking an earth-shattering breath, the kind that every man took when he was about to approach a beautiful woman, he made his way over to her.
Music faded into the background with each step. All Ash was aware of was the clicking of his boot against the floor as he progressed toward the beauty. One dance… if only she would give him one dance, he would secure her hand forever. He knew it in his heart, in his soul. She was meant to be his.
Heart beating out of his chest, he could barely contain his excitement as she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. Blue eyes twinkled in his direction, and then she lifted her hand in a wave. A wave? Something was wrong. Ash paused and then glanced self-consciously over his shoulder. There was no one but him, and then he gazed back at her. She crooked her finger, beckoning him forward.
Completely under her spell, he couldn’t deny her any more than he could cease from taking his next breath. Finally, he stood before her, at least a foot taller than she.
“Where have you been, you rogue?” She swatted him on the arm and gave him a coy laugh. “I have been looking everywhere for you!”
“For me?” Ash questioned. “Are you certain we have met?”
“Must you always joke at such serious times?” The girl laughed again, and he was caught at the sight of her dimples as they danced along her cheeks. Carefree. She appeared so carefree, so perfect, un-weighted by the things of this world, by the responsibility and darkness, by disappointment. He tilted his head and then reached out to touch her — perhaps she truly was a dream. And then a voice broke out into the pounding in his ears.
“Ah, sweetheart, you’ve met my brother.” Hunter stepped beside the girl and wrapped his arm around her.
Ash stepped back, his heart sinking down to his feet. She hadn’t been looking for him at all, but his older brother, his twin, the duke. It was such a sad joke, a sad existence really. Would he ever be first in anything?
Months had progressed into a year as he’d watched his brother and Lucy fall into such a deep love all he had been able to do was be happy for them and try to spend as much time away as possible. After all, it was not done to want your brother’s wife, to want to care for her and protect her. It was fate’s final, cruel trick to allow Ash to feel something for another and then have that person ripped away by his brother. Though he loved his brother more than his own life, it seemed Ash was always left with nothing while his brother was given everything.
His name fit.
For he was the ash after the fire of Hunter burned out.
He was nothing but soot, darkness, and sand. One day, his ashes would trickle away into the wind, never to be remembered and never mourned, but forgotten.
“Ash! Do you hear me! I love you! I love you!” Hunter yelled at his brother as he shook his shoulders, and then his eyes widened with desperation as slapped him across the face.
Ash stared at the blood staining his hands. He tried to wipe it off. Tried but failed as it continued to drip down his wrists into his jacket. “I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating over and over again, but it did not matter.
The carriage had come too fast. Lucy had thought Ash was Hunter and had run to him right into the street.
The fault was his.
He knew it, Hunter knew it, and Lucy, beautiful Lucy, his brother’s innocent wife was dead, and it was all because he had lied about who he was, tried to be better than just the second son.
He backed away, slowly at first, and then he ran.
His feet ached, his stomach heaved, and finally he stopped in the middle of the street, hoping, praying that someone or something would hit him. Death, it seemed, was his only option; it was his wish, his choice. For how could he live with himself after what he had done?
Hunter had loved Lucy, but so had Ash. She was his everything, his only relative other than Hunter, and although he had wanted her for himself, he had pushed those emotions so far beneath the surface of his heart that he hadn’t understood how far the love had run until now, until it was too late.
On legs like lead, he walked until he reached the tombstone of his parents. Both taken from him too soon. What would they think of him now? He was the disappointment in the family, the second son by minutes. And now he was a murderer.
Disgusted with himself, he sat down on the cold grass, leaned his head against the stone, and cursed. His brother — his only living relative — and he had ruined his life and ruined his parents’ memory in the process. All he had ever wanted as a boy was to please his father, yet all he’d received was disapproval. One time — just one time — he wanted to make someone proud, make himself proud.
But it was impossible.
He looked down at bloodstained hands.
His future stared right back at him.
Flee! He needed to flee, to get away. No, not just get away. He needed to die. A life for a life. So he set about doing exactly that. It was not fair that he was able to live, to survive, when the one woman who had done nothing but brought happiness to everyone she’d met, lay dead in the street.
“Lucy,” he whispered as salty tears ran down his cheeks and across his lips. “I’m so sorry… but I will see you soon. I will see you soon.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pistol. With shaking hands he lifted it to his chin and pulled the trigger.
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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street
Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances.
When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and
plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

 FACEBOOK  ❤︎  TWITTER  ❤︎  GOODREADS  ❤︎  AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

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Synopsis and Chapter 1 reveal for Enforce by Rachel Van Dyken

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Enforce Smashwords Cover
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There’s two
sides to every story…

And ours?
Isn’t pretty…
Then again,

what’s pretty about the mafia?

Trace Rooks, that’s what.

But she only wants one of us, and I’ll kill him before I let him have her.

The only problem?

We’re cousins.

And she may just be our long lost enemy.

Whoever said college was hard, clearly didn’t attend Eagle Elite University.

Welcome to hell also known as the Mafia where blood is thicker than life, and to keep
yours?

Well, keep your friends close, and your enemies?

Even closer…

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CHAPTER 1

Nixon

I watched as the parade of cars made their way through the black iron gates, as if somehow those gates would protect them if the country went to war. Funny, they had no clue that the war—Lucifer himself, was already parading around inside, safe from the police- the feds- anyone who would be a threat.

Safe from everyone but me.

My eyes flickered to Phoenix on my right, he grinned as a new girl walked up to him and gave him a flirty wave.

I elbowed him hard in the ribs.

His grin turned sour as he glared at the girl and flipped her off.

Remember your place.

I’d said it once, twice, a million times to the guys, and they were still struggling with the idea that they weren’t here to go to school, they weren’t here to make friends. We weren’t at peace. We were in a freaking war zone.

And Phoenix’s family was our only key to redemption.

“That seems to be the last of them.” Chase’s cool gaze surveyed the main road that led into campus. It was easier on security to have one road in and one road out. Too bad life wasn’t that convenient.

If someone didn’t belong—it would take us minutes, scratch that, seconds to eliminate them, their family, all while making it look like a very unfortunate accident.

“Wait,” Tex squinted towards the iron gates, “I think there’s one more car.”

“The hell there is.” I muttered, “I counted the cars, I’ve looked at the lists, we aren’t missing anyone.”

Chase yanked the list out of my hand and started reading through the names of all the freshman enrollees. His grin made me about lose my shit as he lifted his head and handed back the paper.

“I hear Wyoming’s beautiful this time of year.”

“What?” I jerked the list away and started greedily reading through the names.

One stood out.

Trace Rooks, Female, 18, Casper, Wyoming.

“Great.” I dropped the list onto the ground and smirked, “A girl who probably smells like cow shit. What’s her background?”

Nobody answered.

I said it louder, this time grinding my teeth together.

Tex was the first to answer, “We couldn’t really find any.”

“Couldn’t. Really. Find. Any.” I repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Look,” Tex shook his head, “We have Sergio on it, but the girl doesn’t really have a lot of information about her. Parents dead, Grandma dead, Grandpa her only living relative and somehow her social as well as her birth certificate were both lost.”

“Lost.” I licked my lips. I told my head not to go there, told my heart to stay in my damn chest and stop hoping as images flooded my mind. Dark hair, dark eyes, “Nixon, I’ll save you.”

“Dude, you okay?” Chase elbowed me.

“Let’s go welcome her to Eagle Elite.”

Nobody moved.

“I said,” I started marching towards the girls dorms, “Let’s go welcome her.”

“Why do I have a feeling this is a really bad idea?” Tex said under his breath.

“For once, Tex, keep your mouth shut and stay in the background, paste a shit eating grin on your face and let me and Chase deal with this. Do you think you can do that? Hmm?”

“Take a Xanax.” Phoenix grumbled.

I sent a seething glare in his direction.

He mumbled a curse and walked off with Tex to wait by the tree while we continued the next few feet to the girls dorms.

The car was a rental.

The grandpa was ancient.

The girl was…young.

And she had shit as belongings. Her suitcase was covered with stickers, her grandpa handed her a small box, and I could have sworn I saw a tear escape her eye and roll down her smooth cheek.

“Hell no.” I grumbled, “She’ll be destroyed here.”

“Won’t last five minutes.” Chase agreed.

“Tears.” I wiped my face with my hands, “Tell me I’m not seeing tears.”

“Girls don’t cry here.”

“They don’t.” I agreed.

“She isn’t like them.”

“No.”

“We need Mo.”

I laughed at that, “We need a miracle.” With a curse, I quickly dialed the number for orientation and made arrangements for the New Girl to be moved to the United States room. Mo was supposed to be on that same floor. I figured she needed all the help she could get. No way would little Wyoming survive the year with anyone else, not that I was happy about it. I mean in hindsight that was probably my first mistake.

I’d officially invited her into my life—by way of my sister.

“New girls here.” I said loud enough for Tracey to turn around and gape. So squeaky clean and innocent. Like a little lamb, right, Chase?” I tilted my head and offered her a smirk.

The old man reached in his jacket. It was a move I knew well. Another clue. He wasn’t what he said he was. He wasn’t who he said he was. As if noticing my calculating glare, he removed his hand and offered a forced smile, “A welcoming committee? This place sure is nice.”

I had to respect his control. The way he protectively stood in front of Tracey as if he was the only thing standing in the way of my devouring her.

“Is there a problem?” He scratched his head, causing his shirt sleeve to fall, revealing a small tattoo. One I’d seen as a child but couldn’t place.

“Do I know you?” I blurted.

He laughed, “Know any farmers out in Wyoming?”

It was his tone that convinced me, the way his shook his head slightly, waiting for my challenge. It was the same look my Uncle gave me when he wanted me to stop pushing.

It was the look that my dad taught me when I was ten and witnessed my first torture.

The girl was still staring at us. Easy target. I’d leave the old man alone, he reminded me too much of mine. And I didn’t need that reminder, not now.

I lifted my arms and stretched lazily.

The girls eyes went wide as she stared at my body.

Chase hit me in the stomach.

I sauntered forward and tilted her chin towards me, closing her mouth in the process. “Much better,” I licked my lips and fought the urge to kiss her. Yeah, I was losing my shit. “We’d hate for our charity case to choke on an insect on her first day.” Her lips trembled as she looked from me to her Grandpa. I released her before she could do anything, and walked past, with Chase in tow.

I needed to talk to the girl at registration anyways. We disappeared behind the building, but I’d be back. I just needed the Grandpa to leave.

Within seconds the rental car was driving away. And the girl as all mine. My heart thudded against my chest, and for a second, I regretted what I was about to do.

But every possible outcome ended with either her death, or her in danger. And for some reason, I didn’t want someone like her at Eagle Elite. She didn’t belong in my world.

She deserved a picket fence.

A husband.

A good college experience without classmates who’d rather see her commit suicide then survive the next four years.

They would destroy her.

And she would make it so damn easy to do so.

The only way—was to beat them to it. To be the first, marking her as our target, our play-thing.

Nobody messed with what was mine.

And in the end, nobody would mess with her. They’d allow me to entertain them with her innocence. I’d dangle her in front of them like a carrot, and at the end of the day, she’d be untouchable.

I sighed as she looked up at the building gaping like someone who’d been homeschooled and never seen a sky scraper before.

She was too skinny.

I made a mental note to get her one of my access cards—she didn’t need to know how much they cost—or that every single student at EE would kill to have one. Mo would take care of the rest.

She’d eat with us.

She’d want for nothing.

It was the least I could do after what I was about to make her endure.

Licking my lips I approached her again, this time, damning myself to hell with each step I took. “Are you lost?”

“Nope.” She grinned, damn it made her prettier. “Apparently I live in the United States.” With a shrug she tried and failed to lift her heavy suitcase and nearly toppled over onto her cute ass.

I muffled a laugh, knowing that Chase was doing the exact same thing. Being mean to her would be like kicking a puppy. But the world was ugly. I just hated that I would be her tutor in the ways of reality—her prince of darkness.

Damn, I would have done anything to be the hero.

“I’m Nixon.” I stood directly in front of her, shifting my eyes from her poorly fitting clothes to her ugly shoes.

“Tracey, but everyone calls me Trace.” She held out her hand.

I itched to touch it.

To touch her skin.

Instead, I scowled, shook her hand, then wiped that same hand on my jeans as if she was diseased.

“Rules.”

“What?” She took a step back.

Chase moved past me, “He’s right. As cute as you are, Farm Girl, someone needs to tell you the rules.”

Her gaze narrowed, “Can it be fast?”

Yeah, again, I almost lost my mind. Chase was probably ready to shit his pants. The last person that talked back to him was Phoenix and that ended with a few broken bones and a trip to the dentist.

“You hear that Chase?” I said amused, “She likes it fast.”

“Pity,” Chase took a step closer, nearly touching her with his body, “I’d like to give it to her slow.” His eyes raked her in, as if she was the first girl he’d ever seen in his entire existence. Jealousy surged through me. What he hell? She wasn’t’ his. Not that she was mine, but still. He was standing too close, too close.

“The rules.” He stepped back. My heart beat returned to normal, “No speaking to the Elect, unless you’ve been asked to speak to them.” He circled around her staring a little long at her ass before he continued.

“Who are the–“

“—Nope. You’ve already broken a rule. I’m speaking New Girl.” Chase smirked. “Geez, Nixon, this one’s going to be hard to break in.”

“They always are.” I said without taking my eyes from her, “But I think I’ll enjoy this one.” The first true thing I’d said. I would enjoy it too much. I’d enjoy her too much, because she reminded me of someone I used to know. Someone who offered to save me, when I was already past saving, someone who wiped my tears, and cried as if they were her own.

Chase continued with the rules. Making me sicker as her face continued to fall.

Finally she asked, “Is that all?”

“No.” Raw desire pulsed through me as I approached her, needing to touch her, needing to make sure she was real even though I knew I was acting like a complete and utter lunatic. Chase and I would have words later. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. I was going too far, pushing myself, pushing him.

My hand caressed her face, then moved down her smooth neck to her shoulder. I wanted to claim her, to possess her, to make her scream—but not with fear, with utter ecstasy. I had no idea who she was, but she made me want. And that was the problem.

For the first time in years. I wanted.

I wasn’t allowed to want.

I had to die to myself.

Because in the grand scheme of things? It wasn’t about me. It was about blood, family, protection. Blood in, blood out.

Her eyes dilated. Furious that she’d reacted so easily, upset with myself for making my own body suffer, I snapped.

“You feel this? Memorize it now, because as of this moment, you can’t touch us. We are untouchable. If you as much as sneeze in our direction, if you as much breathe the same air in my atmosphere. I will make your life hell. This touch, what you feel against your skin, will be the only time you feel another human being as powerful as me near you. So like I said, feel it, remember it, and maybe one day, your brain will do you the supreme favor of forgetting what it felt like to have someone like me touching you. Then, and only then, will you be able to be happy with some mediocre boyfriend and pathetic life.” Away from me. Away from it all. Safe.

A few more tears escaped down her cheek.

And I knew in that moment. It was the beginning of the end.

My end.

My downfall.

My demise.

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Elect:
Entice:
Elicit:
BANG BANG:
B&N

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street
Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances.
When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and
plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

FACEBOOK  ♥︎  TWITTER  ♥︎  GOODREADS  ♥︎  AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

 

Shame by Rachel Van Dyken Release Day

boarder-1Everything done in darkness, will eventually be brought into the light.

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I ran, but all it did was keep me one step ahead of my past. I tried to start over; new name, new identity. But you can’t change your soul.

A fresh start at college was just what I needed. For a while, it worked. I was the party girl, the one that seemed confident, but it was a lie.

When guys kissed me–I felt only pain. 

When they touched me–Nothing but fear.



Deep inside, every girl wants to be the beauty in the story, to find someone that will see you as their world. 

But the truth? I was the beast. And as much as I wanted redemption, I wasn’t fool enough to think I’d ever get it. 

Until he walked into my life.

I wasn’t prepared to fall for someone. My scars were too deep, the wounds too raw. But he offered me peace, he offered me security. I should have known it was just another lie–I should have known that falling in love with my professor was a bad idea. But I was powerless to stop myself from falling. And he was powerless to catch me.
Because the darkness finally caught up to me, and as fate would have it, a cruel twist almost bled me dry. But I’m stronger than I knew. I’m stronger than you think.
You think you know my story, but you don’t….after all everyone has Shame in their lives– and I’m no longer afraid to show you mine.

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street
Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances.
When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and
plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.


She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
Links:

**Double Cover Reveal** Enforce (Eagle Elite #1.5) and Ember (Eagle Elite #5) by Rachel Van Dyken

 

Enforce Smashwords Cover

Release date 12/15

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Ember Smashwords Cover

Ember – Winter 2015

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street
Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances.
When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and
plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at

www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

Links:
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