Wicked Love - Michelle Dare Page 0,95

stories alongside some amazing authors! I’m excited, and humbled to be a part of such a wonderful anthology.

I’m so excited to have introduced you to Creed and his little mouse, Micaela. This will not be the end for them, and you’ll also be meeting the other boys, Brody and Keirin soon! The world of Thorne Haven is still full of secrets to uncover. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this short journey.

To my editor, Candice Royer, thank you for always polishing my words on short notice.

To my lovely proofer, Rebecca Barney, you rock my world lady! I know you fell in love with Thorne Haven, and I’m so thankful for your input.

To my readers, thank you for always being there for me. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be living my dream, bringing you stories that you can fall in love with.

And to all the bloggers who love and support me, thank you so much! You are invaluable with everything you do.

Mad love,

Dani xo

About Dani René

Dani is a USA Today Bestselling Author of a dark and deviant romance. She lives in the picturesque city of Cape Town where wine is plenty, and the views are spectacular. She's also a proud member of the Romance Writer's Organization of South Africa (ROSA). When she's not writing, she can be found binge-watching the latest TV series, or working on graphic design. She has a healthy addiction to reading, tattoos, coffee, and ice cream.

www.danirene.com

[email protected]

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Voodoo Love

JD Hollyfield

Lust, deception and voodoo magic.

Beware of what you wish for, wicked one.

It just may come true...

Copyright

Voodoo Love

Copyright © 2020 J.D. Hollyfield

Editor: Word Nerd Editing

Proofreader: Novel Mechanic

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To Gina.

Thanks for being my three of cups on this one.

1

Dry.

Like the Sahara Desert.

My eyelids can’t even muster enough moisture to open them. I’ve cried so much over the last two weeks, there isn’t anything left. So now, I lie in bed—our bed—my eyelids stuck shut, not a single tear left in me, and pretend everyone has forgotten about me as I wither away in self-pity and denial.

Six years.

Four of those dating, and two spent as his fiancée. Only to find out on the night of our rehearsal dinner he’s been cheating our entire relationship.

There was no “oh shit, I just got caught” moment, either. No begging for forgiveness. There was only relief he didn’t have to live two lives anymore. He wasn’t sorry he completely crushed my world and ripped the rug out from under me and tainted every single memory we’ve ever made.

That lying, cheating, piece of shit bastard was relieved.

Okay, maybe the dam’s not completely dry. Wetness begins to leak from my swollen eyes.

Six years ago, we met at Marlin’s Park at a baseball game. He was sitting in front of me, rooting for the opposite team. The sun was blazing, the beer was flowing, and before we knew it, his friends were flirting with my friends and we were…well, we were in the public bathroom having the best random, rivalry sex. We talked shit the entire time he had me pressed up against the nasty public stall as he fucked me into oblivion.

It was hot, drunken, totally-out-of-character-for-me—did I mention hot?—sex.

You can judge me. I judged me. Who the hell meets a guy and spreads her legs four innings later for a hot, muscular, terrible-taste-in-sports stranger to ram her so good, the players in the outfield may have heard her moan? Me. That’s who. Because I was young and careless. And he was like no one I’d ever met.

Now I wish he was no one I’d ever met.

Our one-day stand turned into multiple days and a shared apartment, dog, and mutual friends. Everything had fallen perfectly into place