THE ALPHA’S TOUCH
ALPHA MALE ROMANCE BOX SET
Deliciously dominant and wickedly possessive, alpha males are the ultimate lovers. Experience the dark passion of an alpha's touch in this exclusive box set of billionaires, shifters, rock stars, cops, outlaws, bounty hunters and more.
This special collection brings you 14 of the hottest alpha male romance stories ever told from the hottest New York Times, USA Today, Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestselling authors in the romance genre - all together in one amazing box set – all for just $0.99 for a very limited time!
Claim Me - Tawny Taylor (NYT/USA Today Bestseller). With a dead body in her club, Sophie Durand turns to Burke Langton and Miko Dvorak, plunging all three into a world of evil and unrestrained ecstasy. If the killer doesn't destroy them, the dark passion they share just might.
One Night of Danger - Clara Bayard (NYT/USA). Battling a dark past and a criminal conspiracy at work, Carly's only chance out is to trust her safety and happiness to a man she barely knows - Sam Rollins, a sexy cop who can't resist her curves but has secrets of his own.
Curves for Her Billionaire Doms - Christa Wick (NYT/USA). The three top executives at Whitsun Energy are intent on sharing Casey in their bed, forever. With Whitsun on the verge of a revolutionary breakthrough, their enemies want her dead.
His Golden Cuffs: Sacrifice (Part One) by Flora Dare. After Anya's con man father forges her name and implicates her in his crimes, her only hope is the self-made billionaire, Leo - who wants her family name for his business and her body and submission for himself.
Taming The Alpha - Adriana Hunter (NYT/USA). As pack alpha, Jax must find a suitable mate, but his pack will never accept Nikki, the only woman he wants. Maybe it's her curves -- or the stripper pole. With a killer stalking the club's dancers, will Jax follow pack law or his heart?
Claimed by the Marine - Dez Burke (USA). With Anna dumped right before her wedding, her girlfriends hatch a plot. Enter Hawk Malone, a hard bodied Marine who knows how to make her feel desirable. Will she ignore the warning signs or let the euphoria of Hawk's attention sweep her away?
Big Girl Backstage Pass - Aubrey Rose (NYT/USA). Sparks fly when Shannon scores a backstage pass and meets guitarist Julian. But can Julian put aside the fear that she just wants him for his fame, or will his Rock & Roll world pull them apart?
Hot Prairie Pursuit - A.T. Mitchell - Almost murdered in Misty’s field by a smuggler, Declan Schuster is more than rugged good looks and swirling danger. The hard-bodied, cowboy-turned-bounty-hunter is just the man to bring out Misty's submissive side and complete her. But loving him comes with a high price.
Owned - Amy Aday (USA) - When college freshman Selena gets stranded during a blizzard, she's grateful when her hot professor comes along. But soon they begin down a twisted path of forbidden carnal pleasures. And she learns that he has secrets, another side of him that she doesn’t know if she can trust.
His Need, Her Desire - Malia Mallory (Top 100). Tabitha didn't come to Hawaii to be spanked, but that's the cost of being saved from drowning by Marcus Granger and the start of an affair so intense they must decide - is this a holiday fling or the real thing?
The Billionaires' Club - Terry Towers (NYT/USA). A struggling journalist undercover at an exclusive BDSM club, Lexie's senses are shattered by one of America's most eligible bachelors. After her night with the sexy Dom, will she stop the press or betray her lover?
The Dutch Smuggler's Captive - Angelina Spears (NYT/USA). When her friend disappears on their trip to the Caribbean, newly minted geologist Jessica must team up with Ryker Prins, a dangerous and mysterious smuggler with an agenda of his own.
Burn - Dawn Steele (NYT/USA). Artist by day, hustler by night, Devon Fisher rescues the mysterious Abby when she appears on his doorstep with burn marks on her hands. As Abby is swept up in Devon's world of rich and cruel clients, a tragedy strikes that neither of them could have foreseen.
Tempting Fate - Aspen Hayes (Top 100 Contemporary Romance Author). Heir to an advertising dynasty and at the top of his game, Alex Stone gets what he wants. That is, until his father hires the curvy Nora to challenge Alex in the boardroom and the ensuing battle ignites a fire that can only be satisfied in the bedroom.
This 14 book collection of powerful, aggressive alpha males and the women that love them features stories from best-selling authors including USA Today & New York Times best-sellers. This is a deal you can’t pass up!
The Alpha’s Touch Box Set
14 Alpha Romance Stories In One Exclusive Collection!
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. 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 any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language, which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
Zirconia Publishing, Inc
Table Of Contents
Claim Me by Tawny Taylor
One Night Of Danger by Clara Bayard
Curves For Her Billionaire Doms by Christa Wick
His Golden Cuffs: Sacrifice (Part One) by Flora Dare
Taming The Alpha by Adriana Hunter
Claimed By The Marine by Dez Burke
Big Girl Backstage Pass by Aubrey Rose
Hot Prairie Pursuit by A.T. Mitchell
Owned by Amy Aday
His Need, Her Desire by Malia Mallory
The Billionaire’s Club by Terry Towers
The Dutch Smuggler’s Captive by Angelina Spears
Burn by Dawn Steele
Tempting Fate by Aspen Hayes
About The Publisher
CLAIM ME
By Tawny Taylor
Chapter One
Dead had just taken on a whole new meaning for nightclub owner Sylvie Durand -- a much more literal one.
She wasn’t afraid to admit she’d been desperate to increase traffic in her failing bar, Carpe Nocturne. But the parade of rescue and police personnel, dressed in matching blue uniforms and wearing identical grim expressions, wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind.
And the night had been going so well too.
All it had taken was one bizarre discovery for the first successful night in her club to come to a strange and shocking end. Terrifying. In fact, if she hadn’t been the owner of the bar, she would’ve been outta there hours ago. She was still shaking all over from finding the dead guy… hanging… in her office… It had been so gruesome. The poor guy looked like he’d been the victim of a vampire attack.
Shudder!
God, it had been so awful. She just knew it would take years and years for the image branded in her mind to fade.
And the smell. Of blood and stuff she didn’t want to think about.
Yes, lucky her. Not. She had owned Carpe Nocturne for two miserable months and was really, really hating it already.
A
nyone want to buy a bar for cheap?
Only a handful of costume-bedecked patrons remained, hanging around outside the front door after having been questioned and released. They stood wide-eyed, watching the police detectives as they conducted their investigation. Morbid curiosity.
When the police officers decided they were done asking her the same questions over and over, she managed to drag her weary, shaky body toward the exit, intent upon joining the onlookers still crowded around the front of the building. It was a little chilly outside. And dark. But at least the air wouldn’t be tainted with the stench of death. A big, huge plus at the moment.
As she stepped through the doorway, a young woman dressed head-to-toe in Victorian garb gave her a weak smile. She was rubbing at the fake blood on her neck, now dried up and flaking off.
Sylvie attempted to give the woman a smile back. She wasn’t exactly in the mood to socialize, although she was glad to be among friendlier company. The police officers who’d questioned her hadn’t been rude, but they hadn’t been kind either. Their clipped tones and deadpan expressions told her everything she needed to hear, more than she was prepared to deal with.
Yes, this pack of costumed strangers, dressed mostly as vampires -- what a creepy coincidence! -- weren’t her first choice for companionship tonight. But they were people. Human beings. Alive. And not eyeballing her with the suspicion that she was a cold-blooded killer.
Or course, given her current mental state, even her worst enemy would be acceptable company. The thought of being alone terrified her. She was scared witless. Completely freaked out. The creepy costumes weren’t helping, that was for sure. What had made her think themed costume nights were a great idea anyway?
And why hadn’t her best friend shown up yet? Sylvie had called her hours ago, left an urgent this-is-life-or-death message on her answering machine.
“Are you okay?” Victorian woman asked.
“Not sure, to be honest.” Sylvie leaned back, letting the cold brick wall support her. Her legs were wobbly. Her knees felt tingly and loose, like any moment they’d give out.
Victorian woman gave her an understanding nod. “I can totally relate. Had to be quite a shock finding that dead body.”
That’s putting it mildly. Sylvie’s stomach did a little somersault inside her belly. She swallowed hard against the acid rising up her throat. “Yeah.”
“Did you know the person? The one who… you know?”
“No. Have no idea who he is -- was.”
“At least that’s a good thing. Would’ve really been awful if it had been a good friend. I’ve never seen a dead body, outside of the movies. Although I have thought about being a private detective someday. You know, like one of Charlie’s Angels,” she jabbered excitedly. “I watch old reruns on cable. The original series was so much better than the movie…”
“Nothing too thrilling about any of this, if you want my opinion,” she whispered over the woman’s ongoing discourse about the shortcomings of a movie she’d never seen. She lacked the energy to continue the conversation. Heck, she lacked the energy to stand erect. Figuring she’d send a subtle message to the yammering red-headed Farrah Fawcett wannabe, she took a step or two to the side. Naturally, Farrah didn’t take the hint and closed the distance between them.
A deep chuckle resonated to Sylvie’s left as she took a third step.
Why would anyone be laughing right now? What could be so funny about a man who had been murdered in her office? There wasn’t a damn thing about this night that was funny. Or exciting. Or cool. It was just plain horrific! The worst thing she’d ever seen.
What was wrong with these people? Didn’t they have any hearts? A man had died in there! Died. As in dead. Forever. What if he had a family? Children. Oh, God!
Okay, she was done freaking out and overreacting. At least for now.
She turned her head in the general direction of the chuckle. Found the guilty party standing about five feet away, a guy dressed as a vampire, black cape and all. He was talking to a gaggle of women gathered around him, all dressed in Victorian gowns like Farrah Fawcett. They were tittering like a bunch of birds. Fluffing their feathers. Shaking their tails and fluttering eyelashes.
At the moment it wasn’t a scene she had the stomach to watch.
Although, after taking a second look, she couldn’t blame the women. That vampire wannabe’s gorgeous face would inspire just about any red-blooded girl to do a little tail shaking. Even her.
That was, if she had a thing for vamps wearing costumes that played up on devil-made-me-do-it smirks like his.
But she didn’t.
Nor did she find the crisp white of his shirt against the deep olive of his skin the least bit sexy. And the tendril of his ebony hair curled over the pulse-numbing swell of his shoulder… that did nothing for her either. Not at all.
Who was she kidding?
When he lifted his eyes, his gaze was incredibly sharp. He reminded her of Hugh Jackman in Van Helsing. Dark and mysterious and damned sexy.
She could tell by the way her eyeballs and tongue were drying up that her glance had morphed into a gape-mouthed stare.
What was that all about? She did not gape. She did not stare. Pull it together, girl!
His all-too-perfect lips curled into the kind of smile that no doubt inspired women to drop their panties.
Playing the affronted woman of the new millennium, she rolled her eyes and made a failing attempt at turning her attention back to the Charlie’s Angel wannabe beside her.
The woman kept talking, rambled on and on about something, but Sylvie couldn’t hear her anymore. Now, instead of thinking about the poor dead guy, she was too busy thinking about Van Helsing over there. Him and his “fan club.”
Ack! What was wrong with her? A guy had been found murdered in her office. Her bar would be shut down for who knew how long, which meant even more financial troubles were headed her way. As if she didn’t have enough of those already! And all she could think about was some egotistical guy wearing cheap velveteen and satin?
Fatigue That’s what it was. Exhaustion. And shock. And… and temporary insanity. What was that disease called? Oh yeah. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Is there a psychiatrist in the house?
She needed to go home. When, oh when would she be free to leave? Not that she was eager to go to her empty house, but this standing around, waiting, was driving her nuts. She needed to get out of there before she really did need a shrink.
She stared at Farrah’s face and pretended like she was listening.
“Do you need a ride home?” a deep male voice asked.
Without turning to look, she identified the voice as belonging to Van Helsing. It was a gut feeling. She didn’t have to look. Little ripples of awareness zipped up and down her spine.
“Thanks, but no,” she said. Maybe he was trying to be nice, and she was just overreacting because of her current unstable mental state, but she doubted it. She glanced his way. The evil Cheshire grin was gone, but something sparkled in his impossibly dark eyes. Something that didn’t inspire even the tiniest measure of trust. Still, she felt compelled to add, “Not trying to be rude, or anything. My friend’s on her way to pick me up. I’d hate to make her drive all the way here for nothing.”
“Just as long as you’re not driving. You’re a little pale.” With a tip of his head, he motioned toward her hands. “You’re shaking too.”
She laced her fingers together, gripped her hands. “Yeah. Kind of freaked out still.”
The medical examiner -- or whatever the guy who collected dead bodies was called -- decided that was the perfect time to wheel the loaded gurney through the propped-open front door. Sylvie knew the body would be closed up in something, but she averted her eyes anyway. Her stomach roiled like the inside of a volcano. Thankful for the support of that cold brick wall, she stared down at Van Helsing’s well-shod feet and didn’t lift her gaze, even after she heard the slam of truck doors.
She felt sick.
Home. She wanted to go home.
A different set of feet came to a stop next to Van Helsing’s. “We’re all set here for tonight, we’ve locked up, but we need to ask you to leave the premises secured for a few more days. We’ll need to get back in there.” The speaker -- and owner of a pair of scuffed, black uniform shoes -- was one of the police officers who’d first questioned her. Couldn’t remember his name. Didn’t really care. As she lifted her eyes, he handed her a card. “In case you need to get in touch with me.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She fingered the edge of the card and watched him and the rest of the officers get into their cars and drive off. Farrah and the remaining bystanders, with the exception of Van Helsing, left one by one. Van Helsing hung around while Sylvie put in a third call to her criminally non-responsive and soon-to-be-ex best friend.
Still no answer. What the hell? It wasn’t that late. A little after one in the morning. Normally Lisa was up at this hour, stuffing her face with popcorn and watching reruns of Law and Order. Where was she?
Frustrated and desperate, Sylvie slapped her flip phone shut so hard it flew from her shaking hands and fell with a plastic-shattering smash on the concrete.
No hope Lisa’d get through now.
“Dammit!” Sylvie bent to pick up the phone she knew was broken to bits but Van Helsing reached it first. Her fingertips grazed the back of his hand as he wrapped his fingers around the target of their simultaneous grappling. A funny tingle buzzed up her body. When she straightened up, her cheeks felt like they were glowing as brightly as Carpe Nocturne’s neon sign overhead. She staggered backward, bracing herself against the wall.
He handed her the phone. His lowered eyebrows spoke of genuine concern, but the sparkle still lingering in his eyes spoke of other things. Very intriguing other things, she realized as she looked deeper.
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” he asked.
“Positive. Thanks. I’ll just… drive myself home. I’m not a baby.” She pushed off from the wall, letting her legs support her fully. Unfortunately, they were a little too wobbly to do all that great a job at it. She stumbled after her second step, and naturally it was Van Helsing’s arm that she reached for as she struggled to keep from falling over and breaking her neck.
The Alpha's Touch Boxed Set (14 Book Bundle) Page 1