by Marie Force
Quantum Series Boxed Set
Books 1-7
Marie Force
HTJB, Inc.
Quantum Series Boxed Set
Books 1-7
By: Marie Force
Published by HTJB, Inc.
Copyright 2019. HTJB, Inc.
Cover Design by Moonstruck Cover Design & Photography
E-book Layout by Holly Sullivan
E-book Formatting Fairies
ISBN: 978-1950654499
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
MARIE FORCE and QUANTUM SERIES are registered trademarks with the United States Patent & Trademark Office.
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The Quantum Series
Get the entire Quantum Series
Book 1: Virtuous
(Flynn & Natalie)
Book 2: Valorous
(Flynn & Natalie)
Book 3: Victorious
(Flynn & Natalie)
Book 4: Rapturous
(Addie & Hayden)
Book 5: Ravenous
(Jasper & Ellie)
Book 6: Delirious
(Kristian & Aileen)
Book 7: Outrageous
(Emmett & Leah)
Book 8: Famous
(Marlowe)
Tame Quantum Series
All the romance, none of the kink…
Box Set 1, Books 1-3
Box Set 2, Books 4-6
Contents
Virtuous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Valorous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Victorious
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Rapturous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Ravenous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Delirious
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Outrageous
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Famous
About the Author
Chapter 1
Winter in New York City is dirty business. A nasty, grayish hue hangs over the city from November through late March. During my first winter in the city, I’ve experienced everything from slushy puddles that soak through even the most resilient boots to icy sidewalks to the delightful combo platter of fried onions from vendor carts melding with mystery steam from the underground, creating a smell that defies description.
I love every stinky, icy, frigid inch of it. While others hide out inside, I take to the streets with my dog, Fluff, on a leash. Her full name is Fluff-o-Nutter, but don’t judge me. I was nine when I named her after my favorite food group at the time, and fourteen years later, she’s still my most faithful companion and the one tie to my old life that I brought to my new life. She goes everywhere with me, except school.
I tried to get her in there—once—but was stopp
ed at the door by stone-faced Mrs. Heffernan, who told me school is no place for animals. Even after I swore I’d keep her under my desk and out of the way all day, the answer was still no. She cited health codes and rulebooks, her spittle hitting me under my left eye. Taking Fluff home cost me a personal day, and I swear Mrs. Heffernan still checks under my desk every day when I’m on recess or dismissal duty, just to make sure Fluff isn’t there.
Because I can’t take my twenty-pound baby to school with me, I hired a dog walker to care for her during the day. That’s working out well, except for the time Fluff bit one of the poodles. The dog walker was irked, but I’m certain poor Fluff was only defending herself. She was quite indignant and put out by the entire incident. I told her she has to behave herself or get stuck inside all day if the dog walker fires us.
Fluff has behaved admirably ever since.
I’m rewarding her good behavior today with a long walk through the Village. The wind is bitingly cold and snow flurries fill the air on this early January day. It’s the kind of bitterly cold New York day that keeps even the hardiest of souls inside, so Fluff and I have Bleecker Street mostly to ourselves.
As I’m still somewhat new to the city, everything about it fascinates the girl from Nebraska. I love the architecture and the chaos as well as the taxicabs and the bikes that zigzag the streets on even the coldest of days. I love the stylish women who put together amazing outfits I’d never conceive of on my own, the handsome men, the diversity, the dreadlocks, the tattoos, the music, the theater, the piercings and the food. I despise the poverty, the homeless sleeping outside, the grime, the graffiti. Overall, I love a whole lot more than I hate.
My roommate made fun of me for weeks when I first arrived because I gave money to every poor person I encountered. She told me I’d be broke before Christmas if I kept that up. So I stopped, but my heart still breaks every time I walk by someone in need, because I wish I could help them all. Most of all, I love that I feel safe here. If you’re someone who worries the city is dangerous, you’ll think that sounds crazy. But when you’ve survived what I have, safety is relative. The way I look at it, for every one person who might hassle you on the street, there’re a hundred good people nearby who’d come to your aid. I take comfort in that.
I window-shop my way from one end of Bleecker to the other, lingering outside Marc Jacobs before the cold forces me on my way. A first-year teacher can only dream about shopping at Marc Jacobs, so there’s no point going inside, not to mention they’d freak about Fluff being in there.
Standing still is not an option today. My face is so cold at this point, it’s gone numb, and I have the start of an ice-cream headache without the pleasure of the ice cream. I’m thinking about heading home to the cozy apartment I share with one of my colleagues when activity in the playground at the end of the street catches my attention.
“Let’s see what’s going on, Fluff.” We head toward the park, Fluff pulling hard on her leash, though I can’t tell whether she’s hot on the trail of a scent or a sight. I’ve learned to let her investigate these things or put up with her pouting all day. She’s freakishly strong for a little old dog, and I find myself nearly jogging to keep up with her.
I’m not quite sure how to describe what happens next. All I know is one minute we’re trotting along until I slide on a patch of ice, teetering for a moment between disaster and recovery. By the time I regain my feet under me, Fluff has taken advantage of my momentary loss of balance to bust loose. Her leash goes flying out of my hand, and she takes off like a shot, making for the gate to the park on tiny legs that move with puppy-like speed.
Fears of her fragile body being crushed under the wheel of a taxi keep me running as fast as I can, calling her name as I go. She rounds a corner and disappears for a horrifying second before I make the turn into the park and bring her back into view. I’m laser-focused on her and terrified of her clearing the other side of the park and dashing into traffic.
“Fluff! Stop! Stop!” I run so hard my lungs are burning from the cold and the exertion. My eyes are tearing, also from the cold, as well as the sheer terror that my defenseless little dog is going to end up as roadkill if I don’t get to her—fast. “Fluff!”
I hit something hard and go down harder, landing on my back. You know what it’s like when you get the wind knocked out of you and for a whole minute—or even longer—you can’t breathe? That’s me, lying on the ground in the Bleecker Playground, staring up at the cloudy gray sky, unable to get air into my startled lungs.
I actually begin to wonder if I’m dead. Have I been hit by a bus or a cab or a bike or some other vehicle? Am I drifting between life and death? A crowd forms around me, numerous sets of eyes looking down at me. People are always so curious when bad things happen to other people. I hear angry voices. There’s pushing, shoving and jostling around me.
A face appears above mine. A handsome male face. He seems concerned—and familiar. Do I know him from the neighborhood? Someone screams in the background, and I think it might be me.
Then Fluff is there, licking my face, full of concerned obedience. That’s when I know I’m not dead—and neither is she. A flood of relief at realizing she’s okay relaxes my chest, allowing in oxygen I desperately need. The cold air hitting my lungs snaps me out of the stupor I’ve slipped into. I look up at soft brown eyes, a kind face, brows knitted with concern.
“Shut up, Hayden!” the kind face says. He has really nice eyes and dark hair shot through with hints of silver. I want to reach up and push it back from his brow and see if it’s as soft as it looks. His lips are perfectly formed, the kind of lips you want to kiss, and his face is arresting, captivating, lived in, if you know what I mean. “Can’t you see she’s hurt?”
That voice. Something about it is familiar. I want to ask if we’ve met before, but I can’t seem to speak.
“She fucked up my shot!”
“I said to shut up!”
“You shut up! It’s not your shot she fucked up!”
Looking down at me, the kind man rests his hand on my shoulder. “Do you think you could sit?”
I try because he asked me so nicely and because Fluff and I have obviously caused some considerable trouble for these people.
His strong arms come around me, helping me to sit up. He’s so close I catch a hint of his cologne. He smells expensive, a thought that nearly makes me giggle. Except my chest hurts, and Fluff is making a scene, yipping and trying to get my rescuer’s hands off me.
Did I mention she’s a bit territorial when it comes to me?
My rescuer’s eyes bug out of his head as he gasps. “Holy shit, that damned dog bit me!” He waves his arm around, trying to dislodge Fluff, whose tiny body jerks at the end of his arm. The jerking only makes her more determined to hold on. He lets out an ungodly howl.
The other guy, the one who’s been screaming at me, comes rushing over to assist him.
“Don’t hurt her!” My voice returns as they’re about to hurl poor Fluff across the park in their haste to remove her from the arm of my rescuer.
“Get her off me!”
I scramble to my feet and reach for her, my legs wobbling and my head swimming from the rush of moving too fast.
Thankfully, Fluff sees me on my feet and comes willingly to me, dislodging her victim.
“You’re fucking bleeding,” the man named Hayden says. “He’s fucking bleeding!”
I’m not sure who he’s talking to until a team of people descends upon the nice guy, tending to his wounds.
“Does he need the ER?” Hayden asks. He’s crazy handsome—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and ice-blue eyes. He’s also seriously pissed. “Please tell me he’s not going to need the fucking ER. If we lose this entire fucking day—”
“Hayden!” The injured man waves the others away and dabs at the wound with some gauze. “Shut the fuck up! Walk away and take a deep breath.”