Showing results by author "Anne Malcom" in All Categories

Magnolia Grace is a horror writer, despite what the name might suggest. One of the best in the business, if you ask around. Pressure comes with that title. Expectation for the next nightmare. The next bestseller. Sickness. That's what it is. She can't be healthy. Because that means she won't write. And she hasn't been writing.

Eleven stories chronicle the life and times of characters who cross paths and share destiny’s fire escape. Ghosts, gravity, romance, and secrets weave the communal narrative. Step into the elevator. Push any button, but try to remember your way back out. Not everybody makes it.

Calliope Derrick is in trouble. Not that she'll admit it. She'd sooner go to her grave than ask for help—especially from a man. Wall Street's wolf in heels, Calliope built an empire, shattered egos, and earned a reputation as the woman who made grown men cry in their private jets. But after a betrayal that threatens everything she's worked for, she trades skyscrapers for lighthouses and flees to Jupiter, Maine. She tells her family it's just a break. A vacation. A reset. She's lying. She's here to plot revenge. Not to fall in love.

Marrying Kip Goodman was a last resort. But she was desperate. Desperate enough to marry a man she despised. All she had to do was get through the year married to a cocky alpha male who only thought of women as notches on his bedpost.

Nora Henderson is of the opinion that chocolate cures almost everything. Which, among a few other reasons, is why she opened her bakery in the small town of Jupiter, Maine five years ago. Nora's life is good. On the surface, at least. Underneath the frosting and the sweet décor of her bakery is a broken engagement, doubt, and anxiety spirals.

Should I tell you a story? Not a fairytale, mind you. There's not a princess to be seen. Nor a prince. Not even a hero. This is about the stripper and the outlaw. Our story begins with the Sons of Templar MC, with a man even the outlaws fear. He was trouble. More than trouble. A scoundrel. A sinner. A villain. To everyone but me. Our story begins with blood, violence, and pain. I have a feeling it will end that way too. But it's too late for escape. I've fallen for the scoundrel. The sinner. The outlaw.

He collected beautiful things. Rare things. Ripped them out of their natural environment and preserved them in all of their dead splendor. The problem was I wasn't beautiful. I was all of the hideous and ugly realities of the world packaged into one broken human being. He came to kill me. That was his business. Death. He ripped me out of my natural environment, the prison I'd created, and locked me away with all of his beautiful dead things.

I don't know what it's like to feel. To hurt. The ability was stolen from me in my youth. I consider that theft a gift. Feelings got in the way when you were building an empire. Amassing power. I had the empire. I had the power. One moment in an alley changed everything. What took more than a decade to amass was snatched away in a second. He killed for me. But he didn't save me.