For fans of Christina Lauren and Jodi Ellen Malpas comes the next novel in M. O’Keefe’s breathtakingly sexy series about a woman called into a journey of the heart, body, and soul.

 We played our roles, told each other lies.

But now Dylan is no longer just a mysterious deep voice on the other end of the line. We’re face-to-face and our relationship is very, very real.

We still have secrets—but so much is crystal clear:

The thrilling danger.

The raw, naked desire.

The need to keep feeling the way he makes me feel. Forever.

Dylan is putting up walls, trying to keep me safe, but he can’t shut me out. He has seen my darkness and rescued me. Now it’s my turn, if only he will let me.

The whole drive home I told myself I would stay away from Annie.

That seeing my brother had made me raw. Too raw.

Unfit for her.

I walked directly from my car to my trailer. I even kicked off my shoes. But when I went to charge my phone, I could not resist looking at the picture she’d sent.

And looking at it, her pale flesh, her hands between her legs, only made me worse. More . . . dangerous.

But in the end, even while I was telling myself not to, I grabbed two condoms from the stash in the bathroom and walked straight to her trailer door. In the darkest part of the night. The darkest thoughts running through my head.

You’re gonna scare her, I told myself. Knocks on the door in the middle of the night never bring good news.

Well, I’m not fucking good news, am I?

I knocked and waited, my hands braced on the cool metal of her RV. I heard a small thump and the sound of her padding to the door, and I hung my head.

Resigned to this dark thing.

The door opened and there she was, rumpled and sweet. Her hair messy, her eyes barely open.

“Dylan?”

“Open the door, Annie.”

Something in my voice, some command, some need I was barely keeping in line, must have penetrated and her eyes opened wide. Her mouth, those sweet lips, opened, revealing the wet edge of her tongue. The shine of her teeth.

Fuck. That mouth . . .

“What are you going to do, Dylan?” she breathed back at me. A challenge. She was not scared and she was not unaware.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

Her pale hand, hazy through the screen, reached forward and popped open the door. I threw it open and then slammed it shut behind me once I was inside. Both doors, until it was just us in this trailer.

Molly O’Keefe has always known she wanted to be a writer (except when she wanted to be a florist or a chef and the brief period of time when she considered being a cowgirl). And once she got her hands on some romances, she knew exactly what she wanted to write.

She published her first Harlequin romance at age 25 and hasn’t looked back. She loves exploring every character’s road towards happily ever after.

Originally from a small town outside of Chicago, she went to university in St. Louis where she met and fell in love with the editor of her school newspaper. They followed each other around the world for several years and finally got married and settled down in Toronto, Ontario. They welcomed their son into their family in 2006, and their daughter in 2008. When she’s not at the park or cleaning up the toy room, Molly is working hard on her next novel, trying to exercise, stalking Tina Fey on the internet and dreaming of the day she can finish a cup of coffee without interruption.

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