Macy T. Riosa – лучшие книги

DANIELLA VEGA:

Okay so maybe what I am looking for is a little... unorthodox. But in my defense, I don't expect anyone to really follow me in that direction.
When I ask my former childhood best friend to help with my predicament, I don't think for one second he's gonna run out of the room like I burned him with the strength of a thousand fires. I expect even less for one of the hockey players I tutor to be so eager to take his place.

See, my name is Daniella and I write romance. Spicy, hot, filthy romance. Only problem is that I am a virgin too.

Now you might think the two don't go hand in hand but I think they do. Who could write better smut than someone who's so obviously hungry for physical touch after going all their lives without it? I don't have any particular reason for remaining a card-holding member of the v-club— I'm only twenty for goodness sake and there's no shame with being a freaking virgin.

I don't have any problem with it either, not until "chokemedaddy69", one of my online readers, says my inexperience is starting to show in my writing. Badly.
So I come up with this plan. I need to learn more about sex than the internet can teach me, and what better way to do so than by roleplaying all of my scenarios right before I write them?

The only problem with my plan is that I find myself stuck with an insanely hot hockey player who has probably received too many blows to the head if his willingness to follow my every crazy fantasy is any indication.

I guess we'll both have to play the part for it to work.

If there is one thing you should know about me, it’s that I am prone to obsession.

That’s the only way I know how to love.

I have had several over the course of my relatively short life, but three in particular stood out and shaped me into the severely deranged young woman I now am.

The first obsession I remember having was death. It was such an abstract concept for my child brain, and it fascinated me. The second, was blood. You see, after I had my first taste of death, I was kind of disappointed. I expected more from it, I wanted the rush to last longer. I wanted it to be messier, dirtier, something that would mar my skin and stain my clothes.

So, blood was my second obsession. In my mind, if there was death, then there should be blood too. Otherwise it was boring.

The last one of my obsessions was nothing like the other two. It had dirty blond hair and hazel eyes, loved to stare at me silently and looked very much unapproachable.

Alexei Korolov. The Ice King of Olympe, Louisianna.

We came from two different sides of town, two very different families, but for some reason, it felt like we were one entity split into two different bodies.

Alexei wasn’t the knight in a shining armor who slayed my demons. He was the morally gray villain who captured them just so I could wreak my havoc and unleash my mayhem.

Because I was a girl prone to obsession and Alexei Korolov was the deadliest of them all.

Survival is a funny thing.

It's a never ending fight, which, after a while, becomes like a second nature. All you have to do is find what makes you want to keep fighting, keep going forward. Find what keeps you from spiralling and losing control.

For me, it was my sister.

The day she was born, I swore to protect her, save her any time she would need me to. In her own way, she saved me, too. They say a sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost, and I was determined to hang onto it like a
lifeline.

Then he came into our lives, and everything was turned upside down. I had to put my trust in his hands, something I had never done before, and pray everything went according to plan.

The problem with trust is that it's a brittle little bitch, and the more it bends, the harder it breaks.


***

This book is intended for an 18+ audience as it contains graphic sexual scenes, strong language and deals with darker themes. Please check trigger warnings.

A child of the stars.

That's what my mother used to call me. That's also the reason behind my name, Nova.

Star.

It sounded poetic but it wasn't, not really. Mom used to say I would accomplish great things. That me and her, we were cut from the same cloth, born under the same moon.

She said we weren't like the others, that we didn't see life the way everybody else did.

She was right.

My whole life, I felt like nobody could truly reach me. Like, besides my sister Aurora, no one else could see through me, into the inconspicuous dark depths of my soul.

I certainly didn't expect him of all people to do so.

Aiden Walker was everything I shouldn't want. He fought, cussed, he had more tattoos than anyone should at eighteen and could be quite brutish to those around him. But for the life of me I couldn't keep my eyes from veering in his direction whenever he entered a room.

The fact that he liked to pick on me didn't help. He annoyed me almost as much as he fascinated me. As much as I wanted to dislike him, hate him even, I never truly could.

When tragedy struck our small town and Aiden and I found ourselves stuck together, hiding for our lives, I finally gave up on fighting him. Because there was much more to Aiden than met the eye.

For some reason, his soul called to mine. He loved like I did.

So I swore I would help him. I just didn't know how much it would cost us.