First, he took my heart. It started in high school. I was his girlfriend…he was the love of my life. We had plans for after graduation. We were going to escape—he from his family’s reputation and me from my father’s control. 

But all that changed the summer before college. Charged with a crime he hadn’t committed, he was whisked away from life, never to be heard from again. Then, he takes my body. 

 Twelve years later, he’s back. He’s bigger, he’s tougher, and he’s harder around the edges. He’s no longer the boy I fell in love with. But I’m no longer the girl who gave him her heart. 

Everything’s changed between us. Anger, resentment, and bitterness have replaced happiness, love, and trust. Except for when darkness falls. That’s when he comes to me at night, taking what is still his. 

 Now, he’s going to take my soul. When the lines between our old love and our new hate begin to blur, I know that, this time, I might not survive if he leaves.    

I didn’t know who was more surprised—Addison or me.

I certainly hadn’t expected her to walk through the door. When Foster had told me that he was going to get a lawyer, I had been so surprised that Brook Creek had one that I didn’t even think to ask who the person was.

She turned around. “Please close the door,” she said to Whitlock, her voice firm and full of authority.

It wasn’t the only firm thing in the room.

Whitlock shot me a dirty look before closing the door, and Addison turned back around.

She gestured toward the table. “Can we please sit?”

I shrugged, pulled out the chair closest to me, and sat.

Addison did the same and took out a notebook and pen from her purse. She started writing things down, and I took the opportunity to study her. Her chestnut hair had been down to her ass in high school, but now, it was only a couple of inches past her shoulders. Her breasts strained against the top, and I was pretty sure they’d gotten bigger since I last saw her, which was saying something because she’d had a pretty impressive set of tits back then.

And I couldn’t see it now, but I had noticed her nice, round ass before she sat down. Her black pants were so tight that I was ninety-nine percent positive she was going commando or wearing a thong. No panty lines for Addison.

She looked up at me. “So, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Foster picked me up from the airport. I was driving my brother’s car when I got pulled over. Next thing I knew, Whitlock was putting handcuffs on me.”

“What for?”

I scowled. “Fuck if I know. That asshole’s always had a hard-on for me.”

She sighed. “What was his reason? What did he tell you?”

I snorted. “That I was speeding.”

“Were you?”

“I was going fifty-eight in a fifty-five.”

“Anything else unusual?”

“Other than the fact that I was driving? No.”

“As I recall, you didn’t always follow traffic laws.”

Her comment had me thinking of all the times we’d driven around in my beat-up Chevy truck and the things we’d done in it besides driving. It seemed Addison was thinking the same thing.

I totally recognized the look on her face.

It was the same one she used to give me before she pulled down my pants and sucked my cock into her mouth.

I’d grown up around adults with loose morals, so it was no shock that I’d lost my virginity at fourteen to my mom’s friend’s daughter. She was sixteen when she came to my house, looking for her mother. Her mom and my mom had left twenty-four hours earlier to go on a bender.

So, Sheila took me to the room I shared with my brother and showed me the things she liked to do in bed. I lasted all of twenty seconds before blowing my load, but thankfully, Sheila gave me a few more rounds that I used to make it up to her.

That was just the beginning. For a while, I had fucked anything that I could.

But Addison had grown up completely different from me. She had been a virgin when she and I started dating. Everything she knew in the bedroom, she’d learned from me. Including how to give the best fucking blow jobs.

I tilted my head to the side. I wondered if she still gave good head.

My eighteen-year-old self demanded I find out. My thirty-year-old self didn’t need the complications of being inside Addison Graham again.

 

R.L. Kenderson is two best friends writing under one name.

Renae has always loved reading, and in third grade, she wrote her first poem where she learned she might have a knack for this writing thing. Lara remembers sneaking her grandmother’s Harlequin novels when she was probably too young to be reading them, and since then, she knew she wanted to write her own.

When they met in college, they bonded over their love of reading and the TV show Charmed. What really spiced up their friendship was when Lara introduced Renae to romance novels. When they discovered their first vampire romance, they knew there would always be a special place in their hearts for paranormal romance. After being unable to find certain storylines and characteristics they wanted to read about in the hundreds of books they consumed, they decided to write their own.

One lives in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and the other in the Kansas City area where they’re a sonographer/stay-at-home mom/wife and pharmacist/mother by day, and together they’re a sexy author by night. They communicate through phone, email, and whole lot of messaging.

You can find them at http://www.rlkenderson.com, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, and Goodreads.

Join their Facebook Reader Group. Or you can email them at rlkenderson@rlkenderson.com, or sign up for their newsletter here. They always love hearing from their readers.

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I can’t believe I met the perfect man...

 On the ferry to my mother’s wedding, I met the most amazing man—his love of Faulkner notwithstanding. Professor David Carstairs was funny, intelligent, and had the sexiest hands I’d ever seen. A conversation about classic American literature led to a romantic dinner at his house ... and then a whole lot of dessert afterward. I’d never done anything like that before, but what we had was something special. Unfortunately, everything came crashing down the next day. Because my supposedly perfect professor? His dad just married my mom, and now he’s my stepbrother! Thanksgiving dinner just got a whole lot more complicated.

I’ve finally found the perfect woman...

En route to watch my father marry yet another young gold digger, I met the perfect woman—her hatred of Faulkner notwithstanding. Victoria Witherspoon was kind, witty, and had the most kissable lips I’d ever seen. We spent the day together, and then stayed up all night exploring each other’s bodies. I don’t do relationships, but for someone as perfect as Victoria, I was ready to make an exception. If only her mom hadn’t just married my dad, putting the object of all my fantasies firmly in the “off limits” category. And I thought the holidays were awkward before.

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I knew if I moved at all, my body would go to hers of its own volition. I wanted her with crushing desperation. And I could never have her.

What Kind of Moron Changes Cover, Title and Author 3 Weeks After Release Day?

Me. I’m the moron. But maybe not as idiotic as it seems. When I decided to self-publish the third Mephisto book and make it New Adult with sexy times and more grown-up-y angst, I gave serious consideration to doing this to start with, but couldn’t decide, and so I asked author friends for their advice and they unequivocally said I should keep Trinity Faegen as the author, use the same font for the title, and the same general theme of the cover. Continue the package and branding.

So I did. And it’s beautiful – I love the cover of The Mephisto Mark. But most people have never heard of the Mephisto Covenant series, so they don’t know – or care – that this book is all matchy-matchy with the previous books. So no new readers are jumping on board. And readers of the first two assume this will be like those, but it’s not. Even the writing is different. Book 1 & 2 are in third person, alternating POV and this one is in first person alternating POV. This one has more language and adult themes and is not anything close to a YA. It’s New Adult – except not about somebody in college. Just college age. It’s a romance novel, pure and simple. It’s a sad story, a hopeful tale, a love story with a happy ending – like all romance novels.

The first two Mephistos were romances. Young Adult romance, but romances just the same. This book, the third Mephisto, with a new title and cover, written as Real Me, the romance writer, will hopefully find its place on the right bookshelf, and people who love romance novels will find it and enjoy it. Should I have done this to begin with? Well, yeah, but who knew? That’s the beauty of self-publishing! You can climb down off the horse in the middle of the stream and get on another horse. Or swim to shore and take a bus. Y’all come with me – read Only You and tell me what you think.

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