"Name." "Emerson Prescott." "What do you want?" "I'm looking for someone." "Hire a P.I." "If only it were that simple Mr. Hitter." Silver Hitter smirks. "I take it there's more to it?" "Yes. I need to find someone and eliminate them. Contacts tell me that you're the only one who might be able to help me." "Give me a name, Prescott." "James. James Davenport." Hitter meets Crow's gaze and she shakes her head, ready to object but he holds up a finger. "James Davenport you say? What about her?" "Find her and get rid of her for me." Hitter arranges a price with the mystery male, he's heard nothing about, then hangs up and places his phone aside. "Crow, tell me who the hell Emerson Prescott is and why he just hired an assassin to kill a Davenport?" ..... James Davenport, skilled hitwoman and assassin. It would make sense for anyone to want her dead but at the same time...who the hell are you to put a hit on a Davenport? Silver Hitter, also a skilled hitman and assassin. He was asked many years ago to watch James' back so now when her name makes its way into his hitlist, he has to figure out who the hell had the guts to put a target on her back. James is irked by the masked man who enters her life without warning, and it doesn't help that her past seems to suddenly want to get to know her. What if he's not the worst thing to happen to her afterall once they start getting to know each other? James Davenport, the blonde he saw from behind the lense of a rifle for ten years now before his eyes. So, what happens now? •TW• Guns. Murder.

"Noah, I won't do it unless you ask me to," he whispered, his voice seductively low. "What?" I asked almost breathless. "Kiss you," he murmured. "And God, there are no words for how badly I want to." **** Noah was your all American boy. Captain of his soccer team, extremely good-looking, having other boys want to be him and girls want to be with him, but there's one problem. He doesn't chase after the captain of the cheerleading squad or the girls who spread their legs open for whoever asks. In fact, he doesn't go for any girl. Instead, he hates himself when his eyes linger on a guy that his brain and heart say is cute. He's gay, and he's having a hard time accepting himself for it. It doesn't help when he wakes up almost naked in another guy's house, let alone in another guy's bed. And to make matters worse, he can't help but fall for the outspoken and extremely attractive Madison who he'd drunkenly went home with and tried to screw. Finally, to add the cherry on top of the crap-tastic cake, Noah is forced to work with Madison for at least six months, or he'll lose his beloved soccer. Nothing could go wrong, right? Throw in a bit of awkwardness mixed with a few close calls and you've got a recipe for disaster....and a tiny tear in Noah's heavily protected heart. © 2018 *endless thanks and love to @half_a_hetero for helping me with the Italian in this book. I'm not a native Italian speaker, so having their help was invaluable. Follow them and show them some love!!* Amazing cover by @Grand_ Highest Rank: #4 in lgbt

"You can't like him, you just can't!" "I know. It's wrong, but it's how I feel and I can't freaking control that." We've all heard the phrase 'The heart wants what it wants' or 'You can't control how you feel', and according to Nate, his life is just an example of that. (#5 General Fiction)

Madi's slumber party is suddenly terrorized by a harmless dare.

Book 1 HomeLess Book 2 ReckLess Book 3 SenseLess Being homeless isn't the end of the world. At least, that's what Zachary thought when he found himself on the streets after being kicked out at seventeen. It hadn't been his fault. His father had used him as a scapegoat and won his mother over, thinking that her husband was telling the truth about his cheating and that Zachary was the one who was bringing women over, trying to ruin their marriage. He'd argued his side, but once his mother decided on something, her mind would not be changed. That's how he came to live in the alley near the end of 73rd street between the old bakery and a laundromat. It wasn't anything special, but after three years he'd managed to spruce up the place and make it almost-bearable to live in. Over the years he'd made friends with random people he often passed on the streets and did manage to hold down a few random jobs, but like everything else, they came, then went. Now he was left with fifteen dollars and twenty-two cents, a torn blanket, one outfit, and a dream for a better life. He just didn't know that he'd find it somewhere he'd never thought to look... or with someone he never knew he'd want.

"We're just friends." Seems to be like a motto for Vincent Chance and Soccer star Lucas Marshall. Whenever anybody asks about them all they say is 'we're just friends.' Everybody suspects they're more, Vincent's friends, Lucas' friends, the rest of the school, but they don't care what people think. It doesn't seem to matter to them that they really don't act like friends, because they're completely totally unequivocally just really very good friends. For the most part... Cover by: @enchantedpapers