Rebecca's Forgotten Journal + Bonuses and Extras Collection

by Lisa Renee Jones

  A guttural sound escapes his lips, and he buries himself deep and hard inside me, shuddering his own release. I want to move, to push against him, to be a part of his pleasure as he was, and is, mine, but I am paralyzed in the aftermath of back-to-back orgasms.

  For a few moments, the world fades and we are lost in a bubble that consumes only us, where no one else can intrude, and where nothing but satisfaction exists. When we finally return to the present, it’s not a bad place to be. He’s still inside me, his forehead pressed to mine, his breathing mingling with mine. He reaches up and gently drags his knuckles over my cheek. “Am I still a stranger, Cat?”

  “You’re still an asshole,” I murmur.

  He smiles.

  “Or course I am. But am I still a stranger?”

  I don’t answer. It’s feels like a trick, or a door that wants to be opened, one that I shouldn’t open, only I really want to kick it down. He tangles fingers in my hair and gently tugs until my gaze meets his. “Am I still a stranger, Cat?”

  “Fucking me changes nothing. You’re still a stranger.”

  “And if I want to change that?”

  Another trick question. Another door I want to kick open, but I’m not a sadist. I don’t like pleasure that becomes pain. But when I open my mouth to tell him no, I can’t get myself to say it.

  ***

  Check out the Dirty Rich series:

  https://dirtyrich.weebly.com/

  PART NINE

  The Lilah Love Series

  Introduction, Reading Order and Excerpt

  Series Introduction

  A heart-pounding thriller about a woman’s secrets—and a past that’s about to come out of hiding—from New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones.

  As an FBI profiler, it’s Lilah Love’s job to think like a killer. And she is very good at her job. When a series of murders surface—the victims all stripped naked and shot in the head—Lilah’s instincts tell her it’s the work of an assassin, not a serial killer. But when the case takes her back to her hometown in the Hamptons and a mysterious but unmistakable connection to her own life, all her assumptions are shaken to the core.

  Thrust into a troubled past she’s tried to shut the door on, Lilah’s back in the town where her father is mayor, her brother is police chief, and she has an intimate history with the local crime lord’s son, Kane Mendez. The two share a devastating secret, and only Kane understands Lilah’s own darkest impulses. As more corpses surface, so does a series of anonymous notes to Lilah, threatening to expose her. Is the killer someone in her own circle? And is she the next target?

  Lilah Love Series Reading Order

  Murder Notes

  Murder Girl

  More books coming soon! This will be an ongoing series. The first two books are a launch duet and must be read in order. The books following the first two will be standalone titles, each about a new case that Lilah is trying to solve.

  Check out the Lilah Love series:

  http://www.lilahlove.com/

  Excerpt from Murder Notes (book one)

  “Kane Mendez is here to see you.”

  At the announcement, adrenaline surges through me,

  “I’m sure he is,” says Rivera. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  “Sorry, Sergeant. It’s Agent Love he wishes to speak to.”

  Rivera raises a brow at me. “He wants to speak to you. Why does that not surprise me?”

  “I’m sure there’s not much that surprises you,” I reply dryly, keeping a cool exterior while my heart is about to explode from my chest. “Is there anything I need to know before I speak to him?”

  “Don’t screw him and compromise my case, or I’ll have your badge.” He turns and walks away.

  God, how I love being back home, but hey. Maybe I should change my strategy. Instead of waiting until tomorrow for the happy reunions, I’ll kick over the entire bucket tonight. I head for the door and exit into an ocean-chilled wind that is now just as chilly as this meeting will be if I do my job right. I start down the steps and make it to the sidewalk when Shirley steps to my side, matching my pace. “Why are you beside me, Officer Rogers, in my personal space?”

  “The chief said-”

  I stop walking and turn to him. “My brother said,” I amend.

  “He’s my boss, Agent Love. I’m just doing what I’ve been ordered to do.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  His face reddens and irritation rolls through me, but not at him. At me. I know his orders without being told. I’m stalling, avoiding, hiding from Kane Mendez. Officer Rogers mumbles something to me, and I tune it out, clamping down on the rush of adrenaline pouring through me and willing myself to calm the hell down. I start moving again.

  Officer Rogers is slow to join me, but I give him credit for having the balls to stay the course, despite my obvious displeasure. He does have orders. He does have a job to do. Just like I have a foot to insert in an ass that rightfully should be my brother’s, not his. There is good news to this little distraction I’ve created, though. I’ve kicked my own ass in the process, finding my zone and readying myself for the cat and mouse game Kane Mendez will try. And I won’t be the damn cat if he has his way.

  Nearing the end of the sidewalk, I glance at Officer Rogers. “Where’s Mendez?”

  “Parked on the road behind your car.”

  “Stay here,” I order and don’t wait for his compliance. I start walking and to his credit, he has the common sense to listen. He stays behind the way common sense says I should have fought to stay in Los Angeles, and even welcome Rivera pushing me aside. But there are too many links between me, a secret I need to ensure stays buried, and these murders, for me to ignore. And one of those links is Kane Mendez.

  Ready to get this homecoming with Kane behind me, I follow a line of four vehicles in my path, mine being the fifth. I cut between my bumper and the rear of a pickup, and I stop dead in my tracks when I bring Kane into view. As expected, he’s parked his sporty black Mercedes on the opposite side of the road, across from my rental, letting me know that he knows it’s mine. He doesn’t see me and I watch him, assess him, and take in the sight of him in his suit, gray and custom-fitted to his long, leanly muscled body. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, and he has one foot over the other. Cool. Casual. Seemingly relaxed, but there is an air of a predator to him – a beast waiting for dinner, waiting for me. Or so he thinks. It’s my job to make sure he knows dinner is not served.

  His attention shifts in my direction, as if he senses me watching him, and that’s when I feel the punch in my chest, the familiar awareness for this man that I don’t want to feel. Emotions explode inside me, ones that I refuse to name and fiercely reject. He’s a tall drink of poison that I’ve already swallowed and felt the repercussions from. I’m not stupid enough to take another drink. And me standing here, staring at him, is a blink he could read in a million ways that I can’t afford him to read.

  I start walking, and his eyes, which I know to be intelligent and so dark brown they are nearly black, track my every step. He’s watching me the way he’s always watched me, the way he watches everyone. Like they’re all that matters. Like he cares about nothing else. It’s the way he seduces people. It’s the way he destroys people, but everyone who destroys eventually gets destroyed, as proven by the murder of his father. I don’t walk quickly. I walk slowly, steadily and completely calculated. I don’t let myself feel anything. Finally, then, I stop in front of him, close enough to say I’m fearless, but far enough to stay out of his reach, to ensure he doesn’t touch me.

  I expect him to push off the vehicle, to tower over me and attempt to intimidate, but he doesn’t. “Agent Love,” he greets me, his voice refined, the smallest hint of an accent to his words. “Still in the murder business, I see.”

  “I hear the same might be true of you.”

  “If you’re inferring that I’m my father’s son,” he says, �
��you of all people know that’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I’m not him any more than you are your father.”

  “Why are you here, Kane?”

  “You know why I’m here.”

  “Because your tenant, and employee, is dead,” I state.

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  He’s here for me. I pretend he’s not. “What can you tell me about-”

  “Nothing,” he says. “I don’t know her. My leasing agent handles my property management.”

  “She’s an attorney at your company.”

  “Who I’ve never met.”

  “You know I’ll find out if you’re lying.”

  His lips quirk. “Of course you will, Agent Love, but I have never lied to you. I’m not going to start now.”

  “You just don’t tell me what you don’t want me to know.” It’s a reference to the past, to my secret, our secret, that’s out before I can stop it, and I swallow the dryness in my throat.

  He knows it too, of course, his eyes narrowing, darkening. “Ask a question if you want an answer, Lilah.”

  Lilah. Not Agent Love, but Lilah. And again, here we are talking about the past, not the present, and it has to stop. Now. This moment. “How did you know to come here tonight?”

  “How did I know you were here or how did I know there was a murder?”

  “Both.”

  “The police contacted my real estate agent, who called me about the murder,” he says. “And I always know where you are.”

  “That’s fucking creepy, Kane.”

  “Creepy?” He laughs. “You do have a way with words, Lilah.” He pauses, his mood shifting, darkening, something in his face I can’t quite read before he says, “This is where you belong, Lilah Love. You’ve been gone too long.”

  “This is not where I belong.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No. It’s not. And right now, I have a murder to solve, Kane. I need the contact information for your real estate agent.”

  He reaches into his pocket and produces a card, which he holds up and then offers me. I stare at it, aware that if I take it, he’ll touch me. “I don’t bite unless you tell me to bite, beautiful. You know that.”

  I reach forward and take the card, but he catches my hand and a charge rolls up my arm, but his words, and his eyes staring into mine is what holds onto me. “I handled it. Let it go.” He releases me and I cut my gaze, shoving the card into my pocket, my hand trembling when my hand never freaking trembles.

  “Where were you this afternoon?”

  “In my office.”

  “Which, I assume, can be corroborated by half your staff.”

  “And a camera.”

  “Of course. A camera. Don’t leave town until we’re done questioning you.”

  “You’re here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I force myself to look at him. “I’ll be in touch.” I turn away and start walking, feeling the weight of his stare, and just when I’m about to disappear between the vehicles again, he calls out, “You still have a nice ass.”

  I cup my hand behind me and shoot him my middle finger. He laughs, a low, deep, taunting laugh that fades into the wind, when he refuses to fade out of my life. I quicken my pace, placing much desired space between him and finding Shirley waiting on me at the gate. Ignoring him, in hope of avoiding conversation, I pass him by, step onto the sidewalk, and charge toward the porch.

  “I heard you used to date him,” Shirley says, falling into step with me. “And they called you Marilyn and Pacino, you know, because Kane was born into a crime family and your mother was a famous actress who once played Marilyn Monroe and was married to the mayor. And then your mother was killed and-”

  “Bringing up my dead mother is in very bad taste,” I say, stopping to face him, his face reddening in response, but I’m not done teaching him a lesson. “And since you seem to be getting fed gossip on me, let me just give it all to you. Did you know I slept with Keanu Reeves, too?”

  “You did? Was it the Matrix Keanu or the older, John Wick Keanu?”

  I never have time to watch movies, and have no idea what he means by John Wick, but I just go with it. “Both,” I say, “but the John Wick version was older. Wiser. Better in bed.”

  He holds up his hands. “That’s more information than I needed to know.”

  “You’re right. It is. That’s my point. Holy crap, Shirley. You aren’t from here, are you?”

  He blanches, looking quite confused. “No. Connecticut. How did you know?”

  “Because gossip is an outsider’s fodder. And if you believe I slept with Keanu Reeves, or Kane Mendez, with nothing to back it up but words, you will never be anything but someone else’s babysitter.”

  I give him my back and climb the stairs back into the house. Rivera is waiting for me in the doorway, one shoulder on the doorframe, one laced up loafer over the other, his eyes cold and calculating. “What’d you find out?”

  “Nothing. Not one damn thing.” I try to walk around him.

  He steps in front of me. “I don’t believe you.”

  He’s close, his spicy, over-used cologne misplaced at a crime scene, and irritating my nostrils. “Step aside, Rivera.”

  “You’re done here.”

  “On what grounds?”

  Seconds tick by, his eyes glinting with a mixture of hate and lust that, while familiar, never becomes tolerable.

  “On what grounds, Sergeant Rivera?” I repeat.

  “Conflict of interest.”

  “What conflict of interest?” I press.

  “Mendez.”

  “There is no conflict of interest with Mendez.”

  “We both know that’s a lie. I want you off my case.”

  I think of Murphy’s urgency to get me here. “And when the FBI claims jurisdiction?”

  “Even if they do, you won’t be the agent in charge. I’ll make sure of it. I told you. I want you off my case.”

  I narrow my gaze on him, and my first thought is that this situation isn’t what it seems. Rivera’s over the top reaction reads as being as manufactured as my confronting Officer Rogers to avoid Kane Mendez.

  “Did you hear me?” he demands. “I want you off my case. When your Agent-in-Charge finds out you screwed Mendez-”

  “I heard you,” I say. “You want me off your case.” Maybe a little too much, I think, before adding. “We’ll leave it to the powers that be to decide.”

  I turn and start walking, but I’m not going anywhere. Kane’s right. I do belong here, at least for now, and until I figure out what this all has to do with me, before someone else does first.

  ***

  Check out the Lilah Love series:

  http://www.lilahlove.com/

  PART TEN

  Bonus Scenes

  These are scenes that are NOT included in my books. They are either epilogue moments, or alternate point-of-view scenes.

  Bonus Chris & Sara Scene

  This is a bonus scene from the Inside Out/Careless Whispers series.

  The final moments Sara and Ella are in the car with Garner Neuville together and AFTER SURRENDER ends…

  ***SPOILERS FOR SURRENDER (CARELESS WHISPERS—ELLA’S STORY—BOOK THREE) ARE IN THE FOLLOWING EXCERPT!!!***

  Sara…

  The monster that is Garner Neuville, and our captor, continues his back and forth with Ella, who clearly has something he wants, while some other man they call Bastile, holds a gun on her.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Neuville says, grabbing me and yanking me across his lap. “I’m going to fuck her,” he declares, “while you, Ella, watch unless you tell me where it’s at. If you try to stop me from fucking her, Bastile will shoot her.”

  “No,” I hiss, shoving against his face, my nails digging in his cheeks. “No.”

  He laughs, as if he truly enjoys my struggling. “I’m going to enjoy
this,” he declares, grabbing a big chunk of my hair and yanking my head back, pain splintering through my scalp. The next thing I know the fancy party dressed I’d loved hours before is at my waist. Flashbacks of another time and another man, rip through my mind, and everything inside me screams fight! Fight! I punch him. He pulls my hair harder. I punch him again and he catches my wrist but at least now with my hair and my wrist, he’s touching me nowhere else. A thought that proves a lie. I breathe one more breath, and he’s released my wrist, grabbed my fancy party dress, intending to yank it further down.

  There’s a gunshot behind me and I jolt with the muffled sound. “Ella!” I shout, afraid for her, trying to twist around but Neuville still holds my hair in a vice grip from hell.

  “Let her go,” Ella orders, her voice low, calm, hard, and with the sound, I feel relief, and my attacker, turns to unmoving stone, seconds passing before slowly, too slowly, he eases his grip on me.

  I scramble out of his lap and as soon as I’m against the door, I slam my foot in his face. He growls and reaches for me but Ella, lands a foot in his groin, and oh the joy, of watching him double him over. Ella grabs his phone where it rests on the seat, dialing someone, I don’t know who, while I grapple with my dress and get it back in place, despite the rips and tears.

  It’s then that I realize the other man, Bastile, I think they’d called him is dead, and Ella’s killed him. I don’t know who she is but right now, I’m just glad he’s dead and we aren’t. Ella shoves the dead man away. “Kayden,” Ella breaths out, relief in her voice and expression, telling me she was as afraid for his safety as I am Chris’s.