Total pages in book: 436
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | A Kiss For You |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Rachel Van Dyken, Staci Hart, T.M. Frazier, K.A. Linde |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
**See all the Top Shelf Romance Collections HERE.** It’s more than a kiss. More than a touch. More than a book. A Kiss for You is a collection of four romances, you’ll be glad you devoured. Over 800 pages and 3 standalone novels and a best selling duet that readers can’t stop talking about. The four best-selling novels included are: The Dark Ones by Rachel Van Dyken Bad Penny by Staci Hart King by T.M. Frazier The Wright Brother by K.A Linde ***Top Shelf Romance represents the best of the best in romance. There are no cliffhangers. These are simply must-read novels for readers looking for the best in happily ever afters. | |
| Books by Author: | Rachel Van Dyken, Staci Hart, T.M. Frazier, K.A. Linde |
The Dark Ones
By Rachel Van Dyken
Genesis
I was never one to be accused of being patient. Then again, I'd never understood the need for patience. To me, patience meant that I was either in the process of getting lectured or about to get lectured. I chewed the edge of my thumbnail and waited in the darkness.
"Ugly." My mother shook her head in my direction. "Remember that… you will always be ugly to them."
Them.
The very word dripped with hatred. You'd think after centuries of working together, we'd have found a happy medium. My mother had her own reasons for hating them, and up until this point, I'd had exactly none.
I'd spent my entire existence balancing my normal school life with my folklore studies, something I'd always hated but it had been necessary, just in case my number was called.
My entire family had a bad reputation for going against the rules, against the calling that had been given them, so I'd never been really concerned about being called in.
Until now.
I'd been eating soggy cereal, staring into the Corn Chex, when my mother's scream erupted through the house, followed by her passing out and my dad needing to call the paramedics.
Her heart had stopped. Literally. Stopped.
All because of a phone call.
Naturally, my parents had lied and said she'd been having chest pain, but I knew the truth.
It was fear.
Fear had stopped her heart, almost resulting in her death.
And fear was about to stop mine.
"Stop," Mother hissed at my side. "Do you want them to think you're a barbarian?"
To them? I already was, so I didn't really see the point in pretending to be anything else. To those individuals, I would always be the dirt beneath their feet, the little plaything they had to put up with.
I knew their history.
Probably better than most of them.
I'd been studying them for most of my life, pouring over books and research with constant dread that, one day, my number would be called, and my life would be played out for me in absolute horror.
Humans were like little insects that they allowed to survive only because it was necessary for their own survival. We die. They die. Therefore, we live.
The darkness lifted for a few brief minutes as the door creaked open.
"Genesis?" a seductive male voice spoke into the darkness. "They will see you now."
My mom, with her long dark hair and bright green eyes, gave me one more look and shook her head. "Remember, you are nothing, you are ugly, you are humble, you are stupid, you aren't brave, you are nothing. You. Are. Nothing."
I nodded and repeated the mantra in my head.
The same one she'd pounded into my skull since my birth. She'd had her reasons, not that it made hearing those words any easier. Several times during my upbringing, I'd locked myself in my room and just stared at myself in the mirror. I'd focused on each feature and wondered what was so horrible about my eyes, my lips, my face — even my cheeks — that I had to repeat those ugly words until I was blue in the face.
The one time I'd asked her, she'd snorted and said something about our bloodlines being wicked and selfish, and how the females in our family were not known for our humility.
Basically, my own mother believed that if my number was called…
I would be killed.
My sarcastic nature didn't help things, and if my number was called, I figured it would get my tongue cut out.
And even though it was 2015, and I thought we'd come a long way with equality and human rights…
I was still nothing. In their eyes I was both nothing and everything, all wrapped up into one.
Human.
Special.
But unable to grasp my own uniqueness because of my imperfect creation.
"Nothing," I chanted under my breath. "I am nothing."
My black, over-the-knee boots clicked against the concrete as I made my way toward the light, the only light in the room, peeking out from the grand doorway.
I'd chosen to wear black leggings with a wraparound cream sweater, hoping that if I covered enough of myself, it would look humble, but not so humble that I didn't at least try to look nice for my meeting.
I'd never been the most secure girl in the world. Then again, how could I have confidence when every day of my life my mom had repeated that same mantra in my head? "You are nothing."
I sensed a sudden presence at my back. A hand, I realized. The contact made me gasp. A slight warm tingle ran through and somehow down my neck.
"Sorry," a man said to my right. I couldn't see him yet, but his voice sounded like a soothing melody, causing me to almost sway on my feet. "I forget how fragile humans can be."
I nodded. "It's okay."
"This way." The pressure from his hand wasn't necessarily painful, but it wasn't pleasant either, almost like an electric current was passing from his body into mine. I'd heard that it was nearly impossible to turn off certain powers — it would be like me trying to tell my heart to stop beating.