BookishKB

Pawning my grandma's bracelet was supposed to be temporary—not contractually bind me to a breathtaking naga. Now I'm working off my debt at Sundar’s pawn shop, trying not to stare at his powerful tail, or imagine all the wicked ways he could pin me down with it... But Sundar isn’t just hard to resist—he’s impossible to read. One moment he’s cold-blooded and controlled. The next, his possessive instincts are wrapping tighter than his coiled tail. I know better than to fall for my boss. But the more time I spend under his golden gaze, the more I wonder...

Whisk Me Away is must-see TV. When the famous host arranges a retreat for up-and-coming pastry chefs, Regan Callahan applies. Everything she’s been working for is served up hot and delicious right under her nose: recognition of her self-taught skills, learning from a master, there’s even been a secret prize hinted at that just might give her the means to buy her boss’s bakery when he retires. It’s not supposed to be a competition, but if it is, she’ll do anything to win. Ava Prescott has no intention of allowing that to happen. Not that she’s worried. Regan doesn’t have what it takes.

Scarlett has never left the tiny island where she and her beloved sister, Tella, live with their powerful - and cruel - father. Now Scarlett's father has arranged a marriage for her, and Scarlett thinks her dreams of seeing Caraval, the faraway once-a-year performance where the audience participates in the show, are over. But this year Scarlett's long-dreamt-of invitation finally arrives. With the help of a mysterious sailor, Tella whisks Scarlett away to the show. Only as soon as they arrive, Tella is kidnapped by Caraval's mastermind organizer, Legend.

The day I was told I’d never be able to have a child, my world came crashing down. My husband says he still loves me, but I lie awake at night, wishing we could have a family. One morning, my husband’s side of the bed is cold and empty. I hear a noise and head downstairs. In the middle of the rug in my living room is a wooden drawer. Swaddled inside, with perfect rosy cheeks and beautiful round blue eyes, a baby gazes up at me.

Stuck slinging pizzas in the deadest of dead-end jobs, I make a wish. In a blink, I'm teetering on top of a standing stone in Faerie, where I have magical powers! And monsters fighting over me! Thank god, the orc wins. A fierce and deadly warrior, Rovann's nothing but gentle with me.

They say never bargain with the fae. They also say don’t get drunk on fae wine. Yet romance author Edwina Danforth has managed a blunder with both on her first visit to the infamous faelands. Now she's trapped in a magic-fueled bet she barely remembers with a man she’d be happier to forget. The terms? Whoever can bed the most lovers during their month-long dueling book tour wins a coveted publishing contract. The win should be easy for Edwina. She’s known for penning scintillating tales of whirlwind romance. There’s just one problem: her imagination vastly exceeds her bedroom experience.

I attended a Halloween party in New Orleans with another officer from the Alliance Force. We all need to find wives, and costume parties are some of the best places to meet human women as they think our grey skin is a part of our costume. At this All Hallows’ Eve party, I met Ivy. We talked and then exchanged contact information. Not a day goes by that we don’t communicate with each other. She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. But the problem is, she thinks I’m human.

A year ago, I reluctantly erased my true other half’s memories of our time together. She said that if we were truly meant to be married, our souls would find each other again. Now, I’ve illegally traveled to Earth and have found her alone in a secluded cabin. I only have a few days to convince her of who I am to her. But the odds are against me. She didn’t recognize me on sight, no longer has a translator, and sees me as an alien. But I refuse to give up. There is no one else for me in the galaxy.

Walking toward the nearest town, I see bonfires and hear humans singing. I wonder momentarily if I’ve time traveled into the past. Thankfully my hood covers my face, which is the tell-tale sign I’m not human. But I’ll have to find someone to help me to contact the Alliance Force. They don’t even know I’m on Earth. My mission was so secret that no one but the High Council knew.

I have seven weeks to meet and marry a human woman. If I don’t, I will lose my position as Commander of the Alliance Force. Since I took command, my attempts to meet eligible women have been disastrous. Lev, our resident anthropologist, has suggested I attend Oktoberfest in Munich. His rationale is that I like beer and the comradery of dancing and singing and will be surrounded by women who also enjoy the same activities. I always advise my officers to mingle with humans at their festivals.