Myah My life literally changed in the blink of an eye. I was happy, I was whole... and then my father died. Since then I haven't been the same. I've been battling inner demons as well as the ones on the outside--my mother the evilest of them all. It's time to take control of my life and Kyle Cooper makes me believe that I can.
Kyle I've been half in love with Myah Wilks for as long as I can remember. She's short and sassy--or she was until tragedy struck. Changes in her life left an opening for me, the one I've been waiting for and I'm jumping--with both feet. This amazing girl has more fight in her pinky than most people do in their whole body... she just needs to be reminded. She also needs to purge those demons and let her secrets go. Maybe, just maybe, she'll let me in and trust me with her whispered truths.
I was born and raised in Wisconsin and still live here today with my two sons and puppy. (Though one day soon I hope to move to southern California!)
IÕm an avid reader who gets inspired by reading the stories from my favorite authors as well as listening to various types of music. I am a huge fan of music, chocolate, fruit, desserts, autumn, M. Shadows, Avenged Sevenfold, and Milo Ventimiglia. Through my books, I am proudly creating new Avenged Sevenfold and Milo Ventimiglia fans one reader at a time. I absolutely love interacting with readers and invite you to contact me any time via email: Anne@AnneMercierAuthor.com. ÒThe best part of being an author, to me, is being able to take the reader to that one place they long to go when they need to escape reality. Knowing I can do that, for even one reader, makes what I do worthwhile.Ó ~ Anne Mercier Hugs and love, Anne xoxo
I loved you once. A love I thought irrevocable. A love I mistakenly believed could transcend both time and circumstance. Under the influence of my dimwitted, naïve, traitorous heart, I became intoxicated with what I now know was simply a figment of my self-indulgent imagination. So drunk on the feeling, I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face. So foolishly enamored, I blindly followed my heart into the depths of an emotion that would ravage me.
Years later, I know now what I wish I knew then. I am stronger. Smarter. Tougher. I will not allow myself to be broken again.
I loved you.
I raged for you.
I wept for you.
And now, I’m letting you go.
Author’s Note: Under the Influence is the journey of two childhood friends that spans the course of five pivotal years in their lives. It is a story about their discovery of true friendship as it blossoms into first love, their experience of crucial sacrifice and ultimate betrayal, and their endurance of agonizing heartbreak on the way to finding lasting redemption.
Dalton POV:
All that remains is the orange in the sky and the sweet scent of the angel lying next to me. Nothing else.
We watch in silence as we always do until the sun finally sets, then both breathe out a long sigh before I turn to face her. “I have something for you. It’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”
Her eyes widen with excitement as an equally joyful smile spreads across her beautiful features. I reach into my pocket and pull out the item I spied just a couple of days ago, buying it as a gift for her birthday, but it turns out I really suck at surprises. Who knew?
Dangling the long strand of black beads in her face, an unexpected rush of anxiety races through my system. I’ve never given anyone anything. Ever. I find it extremely unnerving.
Her grin widens further as she extends her hand, uncurling her fingers and exposing her palm. I lower the bracelet and watch as it coils into her grasp. My eyes rise to meet hers and I swallow deeply, trying to rid the nerves constricting my throat. “It’s uh … They’re onyx—the beads. I read that they offer protection for the person who wears them. I just…” I clear my throat. “I wanted you to be protected even when I’m not around.”
Her smile is hindered as her teeth graze her bottom lip. I fight the urge to take that pouty lip in between mine, breaking my stare from her mouth and bringing it back to the bracelet before glancing back to her sky blue eyes.
She turns to fully face me, the bracelet still secure in her clenched hand. Her expression timid, she inquires, “Put it on me?”
I nod and slowly uncurl her grip, allowing my touch to linger on the soft pads of her fingers with each one drawn away. She shivers in response and I breathe a light chuckle through my nose, still amazed each time I elicit those involuntary reactions from her. Once the bracelet is pinched between my fingers, she turns her wrist and waits patiently as I hook the ends together. Releasing it, I watch as it slides gracefully along the skin of her arm to land across the bones of her wrist. My hand instinctively rises and my fingers trace its traveled path, raking over the bracelet as I clench her hand in mine and press a soft kiss in the center of her palm.
Her breath shudders before she whispers, “I love it, Dalton. It’s…perfect. Thank you.”
I feel my face warm with her compliment, so break my eyes away from her to focus on the stars. After a couple of moments of peace-filled silence, I inquire, “If you were a color, what color would you be?”
Taking her eyes away from the bracelet, she giggles and twists to look at me. “What color would I be?”
I nod. “Yeah…” I stall, stunned with my need for honesty. “It’s just, sometimes I feel like a chameleon, you know? Forced to change my colors based on where I am in my life.”
I release a weighted breath. “Lately it feels as though I change them so often, I’m nothing more than a fucked-up version of an impressionist painting.”
Glancing to the side, my heart lurches as she crinkles her nose in confusion, my absolute favorite of her expressions. My eyes linger the light scattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose before once again seeking comfort in the obscurity of the night sky. “To those far away, I project a solid, recognizable image. But in reality, I’m comprised of nothing but a series of angry, incoherent brush strokes in every color imaginable. Disjointed.”
I twist my neck and pin her with my stare. “Broken.”
Her mouth dips at the corners before she turns on her side and tucks her hands under her cheek, her blue eyes sincere. “Do you think Renoir and Monet didn’t know what they were doing? That they didn’t purposely place each stroke of their paintbrush in order to create their envisioned masterpiece?”
She tightens her gaze. “You are a work of art, Dalton. Your own masterpiece, regardless if you choose to acknowledge it or not. Every experience that paints your picture is a stroke made just for you. Each one of them is essential in order for you to grow, to learn, and to teach.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “You ask me what color I would be? Well, I would be every single color I could because to me, those colors are emotions. Feelings. And life would mean absolutely nothing without the many colors that surround us. The many … experiences we live through that propel us forward into the people we are meant to become.”
L.B. Simmons is a graduate of Texas A&M University and holds a degree in Biomedical Science. She has been a practicing Chemist for the last 11 years. She lives with her husband and three daughters in Texas and writes every chance she gets.
Welcome to Fortune, Colorado—where the air is clean, the men are rugged, and the all the good ones… are bachelors.
Born into the infamous Charlemagne equestrian empire, Shannon has been raised to do whatever it takes for the family business. Even if it means going undercover and digging up dirt on a competitor. It's easy enough when she believes he's a bad guy whose success seems too good to be true. In fact, Shannon's excited to put the aggravatingly sexy Irishman in his place and get back in her father's good graces. All she needs is to stay focused on the goal … and out of Sean Muldoon's arms.
From stealing a thoroughbred racehorse from the Irish mob to striking gold in the mountains of Colorado, there's little Sean hasn't experienced. But when it comes to resisting his hot new stable manager, he's out of luck. With the mob hot on his heels, keeping Shannon off their radar is all but impossible, and he's not about to put her in danger too. Sean wants Shannon, but how can he offer her a future … when he can't even guarantee tomorrow?
Shannon glanced at a stand of early June aspens swaying in the gentle breeze and smiled softly. The leaves were such a tender shade of green against the white of the bark; there wasn’t anything like them back home in Saratoga Springs, New York, which was too bad because they were beautiful. The leaves danced on the wind like gypsies around a campfire.
“It’s beautiful here.” She couldn’t help admitting it. Even the sunshine on her face felt amazing. “It’s such a gorgeous day, isn’t it? If this guy doesn’t hire me, I’ll hike back down to the entrance here and meet you. I’ll text you once I know if I got the job.”
Colleen shifted and crossed her arms, her voice oddly neutral when she replied, “Of course. I was planning to wait.”
Shannon narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious of her sister’s tone. “Did Dad tell you to leave me here anyway?” It would be so like him to force his will on her even from two thousand miles away. No way did she want to be stranded out in the wilds of the Colorado Rockies with no transportation. It was something like seven miles back into town. Not exactly a leisurely afternoon stroll in the park.
“I’m sorry, Shan, but I have to. You know how Dad is. In his mind, you’ll work harder to secure the job if you don’t have any backup waiting for you. He called it ‘added incentive.’ ” Sympathy and understanding shone in her eyes. They both knew all too well what that meant. “I wish I could stay here to make sure it all goes well, but I can’t. My orders are to head straight back to the hotel and call Dad to receive instructions. Before you ask, I have no idea what he has planned for me.”
Instinctively Shannon’s back went up. Callum Charlemagne was so very fond of his orders. How else best to rule the kingdom, right?
Feeling that old tension settle between her shoulder blades, Shannon began to pace. Some things just never changed, no matter how old she was. His penchant for bullying made her as angry today as it had when she was a teenager.
Colleen placed a hand on her arm, gently stopping her midstride. “He loves us, Shannon. In his way, the best he can. And he legitimately needs your help.” Her fingers gripped tightly for a brief moment and then released, her expression suddenly pensive. “This time we all do.”
That simple truth took the fire out of Shannon. They all needed her to step up. Her family was the majority shareholder in the company, but for how much longer, no one knew. They’d had to borrow against the stock, and there was no money to repay the loan since they had so few clients generating cash flow.
No income, no majority control of the company—no farm.
Why? Because her family farm was owned by the company. And without the security of owning 51 percent of the stock, they could be booted off the place without a moment’s notice. In every way, they and the business—their very future—would be at the whim of the company.
It still grated, knowing that truth. Not only had the business been in the Charlemagne line for generations, the farm was home. It held all their best memories—like how every Christmas her mother made homemade cinnamon rolls with cream cheese frosting for breakfast and everyone sat in front of the fireplace with their newly opened gifts and chowed down. They all got to eat with their fingers. It was heaven.
And in all actuality, it was the one time of year that her parents really and truly relaxed. They laughed and smiled, and seemed to leave the bad stuff behind—or at least alone. The rest of the year the stress of simply being a Charlemagne and managing everything that entailed wore them down. Christmas was their time to breathe.
Jennifer Seasons has been a lifelong writer and reader. She lives with her husband and four children in the mountains of rural New England. An enormous yet lovable dog and the world's coolest cat keep them company. When she's not writing, she loves spending time with her family outdoors exploring her beautiful new home state, learning the joys of organic gardening, and—if she's lucky—relaxing in her hammock under the trees with a really good book.
What if you had the chance to change the future, would you take it regardless of the cost? Could you find the strength to overthrow a corrupt government that filled your life, and the lives of countless others, with lies and sadness?
Krissa Channing seemed to be a Headquarters prodigy, on track for a successful pairing and a lifetime of living by government standards. But her destiny was far more than that which was mapped out for her. Upon the discovery of an underground revolution, Krissa is thrown into a world she never knew existed. The devastating losses she has endured have placed her in the position to help lead the movement.
The glittering future offered by the takeover seems to be bright, but how much of the life she once knew is Krissa willing to sacrifice?
One year ago the Event swept through the world and wiped out the entire adult population. Now all the children are alone and fending for themselves.
Everly Hilton can see ghosts. Bridging the gap between the living and the dead, there are so many departed adults she can barely handle her ability.
With winter approaching, Everly can’t fight the dead any longer. She has to listen to the ghosts in order to understand what caused the Event and help keep the children alive.
What she doesn’t realise is that her association with the spirits runs far closer to home than she could ever imagine.
“I ran out of food, I’m only here for supplies.”
The lines around his eyes crinkled with disappointment. I hated doing that to him. He deserved so much more. “I can help you find supplies. But will you stay for a little bit? I want to show you around. You did come all this way, after all.” He smiled hopefully. How many times did I have to knock him down before he remained down?
Obviously once more, at least.
“I don’t want to be gone long. I really just need my stuff and then I’ll leave.”
“How about I do you a deal? You spend one hour with me, doing whatever I want, and I’ll get you food to take back. How does that sound?” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited for my answer.
Jamie was born into a big, crazy family of 6 children. Being the youngest, she always got away with anything and would never shut up. Constantly letting her imagination run wild, her teachers were often frustrated when her ‘What I did on the weekend’ stories contained bunyips and princesses.
Growing up, Jamie did the sensible things and obtained a Bachelor of Business degree from Southern Cross University and worked hard to gain her membership with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Australia.
Yet nothing compared to writing. Quitting the rat race to spend quality time with her laptop named Lily, Jamie has written several novels and screenplays. Spanning a number of genres and mediums, Jamie writes whatever inspires her from ghost stories to teenage love stories to tantalising murder mysteries. Nothing is off limits.
A self-confessed television addict, dog lover, Taylor Swift fan, and ghost hunter, Jamie loves nothing more than the thrill of sharing her stories.
Dax Davies has one job to fulfill in the Davies household. Earn money at the family business. The problem is that the family business was illegal underground fighting.
From a young age, Dax and his brothers are groomed to become money earners in their father's club. Broken bones and bruises are commonplace. Their father pits the brothers against each other to 'toughen them up' for the ring, using his rules to bend his sons to his will. His future is in the cage, not on stage where he dreams of making music.
Kate Campbell loves one thing in life. Well, two. Soccer and Dax Davies. Growing up in the poorest part of London, soccer is her personal escape from reality and from the fact that Dax doesn't seem to know she exists. She figures if she can be good enough at soccer, maybe she can get away from Hackney, and leave the poverty behind.
Kate doesn't plan on ever getting to know Dax as more than a passing acquaintance. In fact, she isn't meant to go with her friend to Dax's father's business, but that one night changes everything.
***This is book 2 in the Sphere of Irony Series. It can be read as a standalone. This is a spin-off of the Famous Series***
“Ready?”
Dax has gathered his guitar and is holding open the door for me. “Yes, I suppose,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a sexy smile and not an awkward grimace. A second later, I feel utterly ridiculous in my pathetic attempt to seem flirty. I’m not flirty, not even close.
My attempt must not be as pathetic as I thought, because Dax’s usually glacial expression lights up and he grins back. “After you.”
Wow. Being able to pull that single smile from him gives me a heady sense of power. Dax doesn’t smile for just anyone. In fact, I’ve only ever seen him smile for Adam and… me.
Forgetting about my inadequacies for a change, we chat comfortably all the way to the tube station, have a laugh at the confused tourists on the train, and jostle each other playfully as we make our way to my flat. In fact, we’re having so much fun we don’t realize how handsy we’re being with each other our joking has me pulled against Dax’s wide chest, my head tilted back to stare into his molten brown eyes.
Our laughter cuts off abruptly. Something flickers behind those dark irises of his. Something that sends tiny sparks zinging down my spine, flooding my body with warmth. He looks as if… as if he’s going to kiss me. But he wouldn’t do that, right? I’m the sporty girl. The boring one. Not the gorgeous type a bloke like Dax would go for. Yet there’s no mistaking the heat in normally ice-cold his eyes.
Dax lowers his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. An uncontrollable shudder wracks my body and goose bumps cover my skin. His breath is hot on my ear. The contrast between hot and cold overwhelming my body is as thrilling to feel as it is confusing to see in Dax’s ever-changing moods. “Kate…” He inhales a ragged breath, as if merely speaking is painful.
Before I can blink, Dax’s huge, calloused hands are framing my face and his mouth brushes across mine. At first it’s just a whisper, a tease, the contact barely there. Then, I hear him inhale sharply and his lips press down forcefully, melding with mine, urging me to open up with quick flicks of his tongue. I melt against his solid body as he dominates the kiss, completely under his spell to do with as he wishes. It seems to go on and on—a small slice of paradise in this blighted spot of East London.
When he finally pulls back, greedily stealing a few more nips at my mouth, he closes his eyes and moans. “I knew you’d taste like heaven. You’re an angel, I just knew it.” His voice is so quiet I wonder if he meant to say it out loud.
Naturally, I stand there like an idiot, saying nothing… doing nothing. I’ve been kissed into complete stupidity.
Dax swipes the pad of his thumb over my damp lips. “See you at school tomorrow.” Without giving me a single hint of what he’s thinking, he turns and leaves. I touch my mouth, running a finger over the same spot Dax touched. My heart leaps into my throat, fluttering so fast I fear it may explode.
Great. I’m ruined. My first kiss and it was nothing less than brilliant. Dax Davies just ruined me for every other man from now until the day I die.
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