HOW DO YOU RENT A ROOM FROM A GHOST WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING IT?

This year was supposed to be different because Oaklynn had a plan.

Stop partying.
Stay away from guys.
Focus on classes.
Graduate!

All she needed to do was find a place to stay near campus, and she’d be set. But when she finds the perfect room to rent, it brings the mysterious Damien into her life.

Her friend tries to warn her that he’s dangerous. He has secrets and darkness in his eyes. But the only danger Oaklynn can tell that he poses is to her attention. He’s all she can think about. Except, he’s hiding something, and when the truth comes out that her new roommate was murdered…a decade ago…nothing will ever be the same again.

So yeah, this year will definitely be different.

Author Bio:

Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.
Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children's literature from The Institute of Children's Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.

Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.

Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor...or Hulk (can't decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny.

Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook Page / Facebook Group / Twitter / Instagram

Never date a player.

Football god Callahan O’Reilly can keep his blazing blue eyes to himself. I have a scholarship to maintain, and I do not have time to babysit a jock through a make-or-break class project. Even if one smoldering glance from him sets my panties on fire.

Time to change her mind.

Jamaica Winslow opens her mouth and spews sass like a volcano. One look at her uptight package and I want to coax the genie from the bottle, unleash all the passion she hides beneath a mop of unruly curls and a smart-ass attitude. She’s not my type, she doesn’t know one damn thing about the game that rules my life, and I can’t stop thinking about her.

Who said anything about love?

Jamaica does her best to keep me at arm’s length, but I’m not a pro prospect because I let the plays come to me. With the game on the line, I always want the ball. When an alum with deep pockets and delusions of grandeur makes demands that threaten my NFL chances and Jamaica’s scholarship, I have no choice but to man up and do the right thing no matter the cost.

It started as fun and games. Now I’m playing for her heart—and my own.

Game Time.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about all day?”

I smirked. “Football?”

He tugged at my curls, and I inched closer. “No. I’ve been thinking about an even more fun game.”

Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “There’s a game you like playing better than football?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What game do you like better than football?” With his eyes zeroed in on my lips the way they were, my question came out on a whisper.

“Tongue tag.”

His warm lips covered mine, and I sighed into the soft pressure of his mouth.

Author Bio:

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Atlan Warlord Velik is hanging on to sanity by a thread. His mating fever rages. His beast fights him every moment. The beast needs to hunt. To kill. To find their mate or surrender to a glorious death in battle. He volunteers for a mission so dangerous, he knows he will not return.

Waiting to deploy, he is lost, keeping distance between himself and those his tormented beast could destroy. His fate is sealed…until his beast picks up her scent. Sees her face. In an instant, the beast knows this human woman belongs to him and no one else.

Until he sees the diamond ring on her finger and overhears a discussion about her wedding, the event mere weeks away.

He is honorable. He is desperate. He will stop at nothing to seduce her. Claim her. Steal her heart and keep her for himself.

When he disappears on a secret mission, she has a decision to make; play the fool and hope for a dead Atlan’s return, or marry another and ensure the security and safety of her true love’s unborn child.

Stefani Davis, Biscayne Bay, Florida

I leaned back, bracing my weight on stiff upper arms as the sailboat cut through the waves. At least once a month I made time, with my friends Carmen and Greg, to spend an afternoon on the water. Now that both my mom and my twin sister had mated Atlan Warlords and moved to another planet, I spent a lot of time alone. Too much time.

A twin without a twin was a sad, pathetic thing. Out on the water was the only time I felt alive anymore. And free.

Lifting my face to the sun, I let out a loud whoop. “I love sailing!”

Sitting right next to me on the bow of the forty-footer, Carmen laughed. “Me, too.”

Greg handed us both another margarita and settled on a folded towel next to Carmen as the sail snapped and waves crashed around us. “And this, lovely ladies, is why you will never convince me to leave Florida.”

I was about to agree when Carmen smacked my leg. Hard. “Effing-A Stef. Look at that guy on the beach. Total hunk.”

I turned my head to follow her gaze and almost dropped a frozen margarita in my lap.

Oh, god. Oh shit. That was an Atlan. Had to be. He was too big, too gorgeous with his shirt off. Jeez, he was showing too much…muscle. “He should put on a shirt.”

“Are you insane?” Carmen leaned forward and pulled a pair of small binoculars from where they rested around her neck. She lifted them so she could spy on the man. “He’s way too hot to cover up.”

With a knowing grin, I met Greg’s gaze. Carmen was a wild woman. We both knew that. Greg nudged her with his shoulder. “You going to try to find him when we get back to shore? We’re getting close.”

I checked my watch and sighed. He was right. About ten minutes and we’d be walking off the boat. Damn it.

“He’s running.” Carmen giggled. “Oh my god. Stef, I think that guy is chasing the boat.”

“What?”

Carmen handed me her binoculars and I looked for myself.

I shouldn’t have looked. Now my peaceful day on the water was instantly ruined by a throbbing, horny vajayjay and a bit too much tequila. Seriously? I licked my lips. Could this guy be any more perfect? He ran like he could run at top speed for hours. The sun made his skin look like he was glowing, from sweat or the water splashing beneath his feet, I wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. All it did was define every muscle in his chest and across his back. His thighs and legs stretched and contracted as he ran, every muscle popping out to say hello. His dark hair was just long enough to flow back from a face that looked carved from granite. “What the hell is he doing all the way out here?”

Carmen grabbed the binoculars from my hands, held them up to her eyes. “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed. I can tell you that.” She practically purred. “You know him?”

I sighed. “No, but I’ve met enough Atlans to know one when I see one.”

“He’s one of those aliens? What do they call them?” Greg took the binoculars from Carmen.

“Warlords.”

“Fuck me, that guy is ripped.” Greg whistled and even from this distance I saw the Atlan turn his head in our direction. “And fast.”

“I told you, he’s following us.” Carmen sipped at her margarita and stared at the Atlan as he picked up speed. “Stef, I swear he is following us. Why is he following us?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t. Not for sure. Carmen was right, it did look like he was pacing the boat, keeping us in sight. Which could only mean one thing—he thought his mate was on this sailboat. We were going to hit the docks and an eight foot tall alien was going to walk up to one of the handful of women on this boat—mostly tourists— and say the one word I dreaded hearing…mine.

Peyton’s mom and my mom were best friends.

You’d think that should cover the gist of it. But, no… Oh, no.

Not even close.

You see, Mom and Aunt Donna (as I’d always called Peyton’s mother) were not simply just best friends; I’m saying they were the-same-person-inhabiting-two-different-bodies kind of best friends.

And thus, Peyton Royce had been forced on me since the moment she was born.

We were treated like twins, yet always expected to fall in love one day and get married. The only problem with that was I didn’t love Peyton. And I’m fairly certain she didn’t even like me in return.

Don’t get me wrong. I adored our moms—swear to God—but they had to let this stupid notion go, because one thing had become abundantly clear to me over the years. I would never marry Peyton Royce. I think it was my one goal in life, actually.

So… Sorry, Mom and Aunt Donna, but you two just weren’t going to get your way on this.

Peyton and I? It was never gonna happen.

Aria took her turn next. When she immediately turned toward me and Peyton, my stomach dipped with dread.

“York,” she smirked snidely. “Truth or dare?”

“Uh…” Damn. I shrugged, not sure what would be worse from her. I ended up going with, “Truth,” only to hold my breath and hope she didn’t ask about why I’d really broken up with her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and admit that I just didn’t feel any sparks.

But she glanced calculatingly between me and Peyton instead, then asked, “You two have known each other your whole lives, right?”

I frowned in confusion. “Uh, yeah. That’s your question?”

“No. My question is if you two have ever kissed before.”

“What? No!” I frowned at her for wasting her truth question on that and then glanced toward Peyton, shaking my head to let her know my group of friends was clearly insane.

She merely blushed and shrugged back.

And Wes took his turn next in the game.

“York!” he cheered. “Truth or dare?”

“Seriously?” I threw up my hands. “Why is everyone picking on me all of the sudden?”

“Truth or dare?” Wes repeated, lifting a challenging eyebrow.

I didn’t like where Aria had been heading with her question about Peyton, so this time I said, “Dare.”

Wes looked at me with victory, letting me know I’d chosen wrong, right before he said, “I dare you to kiss Peyton.”

Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.
Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children's literature from The Institute of Children's Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.

Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.

Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor...or Hulk (can't decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny.

Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.