Sexy, Smart Romance Featuring Dangerous Attraction, Impossible Choices, and Obsessive Devotion.

In my experience, the saucier a woman’s bravado, the more obedient she became upon surrender. I bet she’d love being praised as a good girl, knowing that she was adored—the object of my strongest desire.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

She bit her bottom lip. Nervous tic or calculated move, I couldn’t tell, but it drew my eyes down to that goddamn mouth of hers. Soft. Full. Screaming to be ruined.

“You’re full of yourself,” she snapped, clearly catching my stare. “But let me guess. You think girls like me should be seen and not heard, right?”

“No,” I said coolly. “I think girls like you should be f***ed face down until that pretty mouth learns when to stay busy and when to stay silent—until obedience stops being a choice.”

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

“Hey, Mr. Captain!” she puffed, weaving through the crowd. “You training for the Reindeer Games or something? Some of us have short legs, you know! Or do you just like dashing through the airport like you’re a one-horse open sleigh?”

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

Daria wasn’t just ice—she was fire too. She would burn for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. She carried a quiet, unseen goodness, the kind that refused to be extinguished no matter how much darkness tried to swallow it. It was still there, even after men like her father and Malinov had spent decades trying to snuff it out. And as for all the blood on her hands, I knew—knew—she had never wanted it there.

She hadn’t been born a killer. She’d been made into one.

Forced into the Kremlin’s machine, raised under her father’s brutal rule, taught that love was a weakness and that her only loyalty was to the men who controlled her. Every lesson had been beaten into her. Every moment of softness was something she’d had to carve out of herself just to survive. And despite all of it, she had still chosen to protect the innocent. She had still risked her life for the Ukrainian people. For me.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

Just as he’d predicted, my body felt ruined for future men, spoiled by the touch of the sexy doctor.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

By the time he’d finished the song, I was so wrapped up in his playing and the sound of his voice that I hadn’t realized how much my imagination had run wild. I was having a vivid daydream about those very fingers, imagining how well he could play—me—and betting mentally that he could make me sing too.

~Anastasia Volkov, Day Shift

“I love you, my little bird. With everything in me. I love every part of you—your red hair, your sharp tongue, the strength you hide behind that fire. There will never be another woman for me. I’ll die with your name on my lips.”

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

It wasn’t merely his pale aquamarine irises, sun-darkened skin, and black hair that held me captive. It was the unspoken threat and raw power within him that stripped me of my own will.

It was as if he could read my thoughts, latch onto my soul, and yank it from my very body.

Whoever he was, he was dangerous and had developed a twisted interest in me—wanted something from me—and that wasn’t good. The anger he exuded told me that much.

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

“Eyes on me, Angel,” he commanded, closing the space between us, his breath brushing across my lips. “I’m going to know everything about you—your fears, your dreams, your past, the best and the worst. I want to be the one who stands by you when you’re at your lowest and lifts you up higher at your best. I’ll be the one who fights off anyone or anything that tries to hurt you. You’re mine now, and I will know every part of you, even your darkest origins. Nothing will get in my way. Nothing.”

~Anastasia Volkov, Day Shift

I had never been with a man who reached for me simply because he wanted to. Not out of dominance, not to stake a claim, not as a prelude to sex. Just a touch, a connection, as natural as breathing.

Butterflies—actual butterflies—fluttered in my stomach, something light and unfamiliar stirring in my chest.

I’d always thought that was just some romantic notion, a dreamy fantasy only found in books.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift