When reading romance we are swept away by the beautiful heroine, the dark sexy hero, steamy passages and happily every after. Once the bloom has faded – after 400 pages of sexual tension, steamy sex, and witty banter what happens? Well, that’s why we read romance; we’re allowed to dream that the hero and heroine live forever in wedded bliss. If we are so inclined, we can imagine they are dying to rip each others clothes off fifty years later.

Some would say their personal version of a real life happily ever after is a bit different. They find the man of their dreams and a few years later they’re wondering why their “hero” has trouble remembering to take out the trash. Suddenly he has developed what I call the

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Vivi Anna


The moment Jace Jericho stepped into the Boneyard’s staff room, he knew there was trouble.

The entire crime scene unit was assembled. Lyra, their young witch, sat on the sofa, her petite frame rigid with nerves. The chief, Caine, leaned against the corner as if unaffected, his new wife Eve next to him, not quite pulling off the impassive look. Her hand rested on his forearm, in a sure sign of support and affection.

Jace still had a difficult time accepting that his best vampire friend had married a human. But it was obvious that Eve made Caine deliriously happy, so he didn’t protest. At least not out loud.

Kellen, the firearms expert, Gwen, the lab tech, and Dr. Givon Silvanus, the medical

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NEVER SAY NEVER Geralyn Dawson October 2007 Signet Eclipse ISBN 978-0-451-22243-5

Chapter One

If they caught her, she’d die.

Torie Bradshaw’s pulse pounded with fear as she crashed through the island’s dense tropical foliage.In the dim, dappled sunlight, she pretended she didn’t see the snake coiled around a low-hanging branch on her right or the huge ball of termites hanging from a high branch on her left.Razor-sharp palm fronds sliced at her exposed skin and thorns pierced the negligent protection of beach shoes on her feet.If I’d known fleeing for my life was on the afternoon’s agenda, I’d have worn something more than a bikini and flip-flops.

Torie fought to keep panic at bay.So she was in a spot of trouble.She’d been in trouble before, hadn’t she?What about the

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            His Captive

By Diana Cosby

ISBN-10: 1420101080

ISBN-13: 978-1420101089



If he could, Alexander would rid himself of Lord Monceaux’s sister this instant.  But the rebels needed the coin her ransom would bring.  And he’d given his word to protect her, so that he would.

            Alexander pulled her to the stairs.  “Stay quiet,” he threatened and nipped at her neck in cover to any who observed their departure.

At the bottom of the steps, she rounded on him, by the stubborn glint in her eyes, ready to argue anew.  Before she could rail at him, he heaved her over his shoulder.

Her scream blended with the rowdy cheers of the men below as he hauled her up the rickety steps.  They reached the top of the stairs and thankfully out of

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Mary Castillo

“Do you think we should stop drinking if we’re going to the Guru’s transcendental mediation tonight?” Nely asked, lolling her head over to Aggie.

“Absolutely not,” Aggie answered, reaching for her drink.

“Do you really think you can talk to the dead like it says you can?” Nely asked. “I don’t know what I’d say.”

Aggie hoped so, having thrown herself deeper into debt to spend the weekend up here. Maybe Mama would have some wisdom about how Aggie could get untangled from all the loose ends in her life, or at the very least what she should do about the email from Kevin waiting in her Sidekick’s in box.

They lounged in a private, poolside cabana attended to by an All-American cabana boy named Luke who

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By Ann Rice

My name is Lisa.

            I’m five foot nine. My hair is long and it’s dark brown. I wear leather a great deal, high boots always, and sometimes glove-soft vests and even leather skirts now and then, and I wear lace, especially when I can find the kind I like: intricate, very old-fashioned lace, snow white. I have light skin that tans easily, large breasts, and long legs. And though I don’t feel beautiful and never have, I know that I am. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be a trainer at The Club.

            Good bones and big eyes, that’s the real foundation of the beauty, I suppose—the hair being thick, having a lot of body—and something to do with the expression on my face, that

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