She throws me a warning look, her eyes narrowing as she pierces me in place. "He is not who he seems to be."

  My heart is speeding, fueled by a toxic blend of terror and curious excitement.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Don't let your heart be fooled by him," Lailah replies. "He's watching out for you, and I'm sure he'd rather kill the other guys before he'd let either one of them touch you—but don't be fooled."

  I'm shaking my head, my entire body trembling as I try to make sense of what she is saying to me.

  "What do you mean, Lailah?" I question. "Please, explain it to me! You're just like him right now, intimidating and vague!"

  She laughs lightly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, as if I'd just paid her a compliment.

  "He's not telling you everything about the mission you're being trained for because he wants to protect you," she explains. "And because he doesn't want you to know the truth about it. The real reason, why we're doing this."

  Her gaze is intense and edged with secrecy when she looks at me now.

  "Yes, he did," I insist. "He said it was about the Scivola family, about killing them."

  Lailah raises an eyebrow, a hint of compassion lacing her expression. "Yes, but did he ever tell you the reason why? Did he ever tell you what's in it for him?"

  I squint in confusion, trying to understand where she's going with this.

  "He didn't, did he?" she guesses, gasping for air as her weakened body starts betraying her again, taking away the strength she's so unwilling to give up.

  "I... I'm not sure," I stammer.

  Lailah closes her eyes for a moment, breathing heavily as another wave of painful torment rushes through her body.

  "Do you need something?" I ask, stepping closer to the bed again. "Should I call for someone?"

  She shakes her head as much as she can, opening her eyes to fixate on me with an intense stare.

  "No, no, don’t," she finally produces under heavy breaths. "I need to tell you this first. I need to tell you."

  She continues gasping for air, managing a deep and desperate inhale, finally filling her lungs enough to stabilize her at least a little.

  "And you," she adds, a gloomy expression painted across her bloodless cheeks. "You need to fucking listen to me, if you want to get out of this alive."

  Thank you for reading!

  What is Lailah going to share with Malia? Will it change her opinion of Nate? What’s the big secret he is hiding from everyone?

  All of these questions will be answered in ‘Fractured Onyx’, the conclusion to Malia’s & Nate’s story – set for release on April 16th 2019. Pre-order here to get the book sent to your kindle on release day!

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  Need something to bridge the time until you can continue Malia’s story? Have your read the story of her best friend Liliane in Petal? Just turn the page for a free sneak peek!

  Already familiar with Petal’s story? Fear not, there’s another sneak peek right here – introducing you to my bestselling dark romance Violent Delights!

  Also by Linnea May

  FREEBIES

  A hot & steamy Billionaire Romance about a mysterious thriller and suspense writer and his muse.

  His Secret Muse

  Prequel to The Velvet Rooms Series

  The Velvet Rooms (Prequel)

  Dark Billionaire Romances

  Stories of dark seduction, twisted desires and fateful encounters.

  Petal: A Dark Romance Duet

  The VIOLENT Series

  Silent Daughter

  The Velvet Rooms Series

  New Adult Billionaires

  New Adult Billionaire Romances with a college twist.

  MASTER CLASS

  For my Master

  Billionaires & Bohemians

  Bad Boy Billionaires and their artistic counterparts.

  TAMED: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  BARRED: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  Romantic Suspense

  Fast-paced & action filled stories that will keep you at the edge of your seat.

  Cards of Love: The Tower

  Connect with Linnea

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  Turn the page for a sneak peek of Petal (Liliane’s story)!

  Lost Petal

  by

  Linnea May

  BLURB

  He took everything from me. My memories, my freedom, my sanity.

  I don’t know who I am or why I'm here. All I know is that I'm his captive, his toy, an empty canvas - body and mind. With every spanking, every touch, every word uttered in the dark, he paints me just the way he wants - always leaving me wanting more.

  Pain meets pleasure with fiery kisses as he molds me into the person he says I’m supposed to be.

  But who is that person? And who was I before him?

  Every stroke of his hand brings me closer to the truth.

  But when the veil of mystery is finally lifted, it only gives rise to more questions - and more dark secrets between us.

  My name is Petal - and this is my story.

  “[…] Know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.”

  ~ Unknown

  Prologue

  Petal

  Is this what it feels like to be born?

  Why do we not remember an event of such significance? Our first moment on Earth, our first breath, the first thing we see, the first thing we feel, the first thing we hear.

  Our first thought.

  None of it stays with us.

  It happens to all of us, and we all bear the same pain of not remembering, bereft of that one moment in our short frame of existence when we are nothing and no one. Untainted and raw. Void of any mistakes, burden, and prejudice.

  We come into the world with nothing but the skin that protects us from it, with a set of lungs that lets us breathe through it, a set of eyes that lets us see it, ears that let us perceive its music—and a head that helps us make sense of it.

  But what if you break along the way?

  What if your system gets reset?

  Is that what’s happened to me?

  Is that why I’m here?

  Is that why I don’t dare to open my eyes?

  I’ve been awake for a while now, but I lack the courage to act on it. My head is as heavy as my limbs, resting on a surface that is foreign to me. It’s neither soft nor hard, but combines both qualities in one strange blend.

  I’m lying on my back, with my arms falling off to the sides while my legs stretch across the length of the bench. My arms are bent in an awkward position as they leap over the edges, causing my fingers to prickle when I move them, closing and opening my fists while they hold on to nothing but thin air.

  My eyes remain shut while my other senses slowly wake, one after another.

  The first thing I notice is the smell. It’s not a particularly bad smell. There’s no unpleasant stench infiltrating my senses, nothing that reeks of decay or mold. Nothing that would cause a person to crinkle their nose as they try to find a name for the unwanted aroma that is invading their space. It’s nothing of the sort.

  But it isn’t good either.

  It’s the kind of neutral in-between that’s impossible to grasp, like the air between my fingers. If someone would ask me what this room smells like, I would feel inclined to reply with: “Nothing.”

  Am I even inside a room? My vision is obscured by just my eyelids. Yet there’s nothing but complete blackness, suggesting that I’m surrounded by darkness.

  The sound of my breath is not joined by the soft whistle of wind traveling through trees in my vicinity, no voices in the distance, no feral chatter, not the slightest hint of traffic noises near or far. No breeze caresses my skin as my limbs gradually wake from their slumber, and no sunlight warms my stiff body as I loll ever so slightly, the motions traveling from the tips of my fingers and toes up to my core, as if I were making sure that I’m still there, that I’m still complete.

  And then, at last, I dare to take that final step back into the world.

  I open my eyes.

  And I see... nothing.

  Just as I suspected, there’s no illumination helping me to find my bearings. Eyes open or not, it doesn’t make a difference; the impression remains the same. Nothing but black emptiness greets me. The only conclusion I can draw is that I am, in fact, inside a room. A room without windows.

  A basement, maybe?

  I want to speak, but while my lips are ready to form the words, my voice is not. I lie there, my mouth moving like that of a fish out of water, fighting for a life that slowly slips away. A croak escapes me, but it’s all I can muster. My throat hurts, feeling sore from God knows what.

  Screaming? Did I scream?

  Why?

  I flinch when my confused pondering is interrupted by something unexpected.

  Light.

  A light bulb is switched on above my face, blinding me despite its dim setting. I squint and turn, my entire body coiling on my right side as I seek protection from something I wished for a moment ago. Clarity. Illumination.

  An explanation for all of this.

  I remain curled up on my side for a few more moments, my eyes shut as I hide my face behind my palms. Waiting. Listening. But I don’t know what for.

  There may be light now, but there’s still no sound other than my own erratic breathing. I’m still alone. Whoever switched on the light above my head is not here with me.

  Realizing this helps me overcome the crippling fear that turned me into a ball of wool, entangled in my own confusion and anxiety. I open my eyes before my body unfolds, opening up to the room and finally facing it as I sit up straight.

  The room looks just like it smells—like nothing. It’s simply a gray, dark cell. Four concrete walls embrace me—no windows, no pictures, nothing. Nothing, except a stainless steel toilet tucked away in the corner to my left. A cold shiver runs down my back at the sight of it.

  This can’t be good.

  My eyes travel back over my shoulder, finding a door about ten feet away from me that has the same color as the dark gray walls. It looks heavy, and locked.

  Against better judgment, I make a move to get up and try the handle, but my body won’t let me. My legs give out as soon as I try to stand on my feet and I tumble to the cement floor, landing on all fours. I mewl in pain as I scrape my knee on the ground, my weak hands barely cushioning my fall and sending painful warnings along my wrists.

  Grimacing, I shift on the hard floor, only now realizing that I’m not even dressed properly. I’m wearing nothing but a white nightgown that ends above my knees. White lace adorns the hem around my legs and the short sleeves that partly slipped down my shoulders, almost exposing my boobs as I sit bent over. I reach up, my fingers digging into the fabric covering my chest. The material is delicate, almost see-through—and I’m not wearing any underwear. I start trembling, sitting on the cold concrete with my bare ass, just a thin layer of white protecting my frail body.

  My vision blurs as tears water my eyes when my mind is finally clear enough for the panic to set in.

  Hysteria, desperation, fright. They all overcome me at once, joined by a sequence of questions I have no answers to.

  Where am I?

  How did I get here?

  But most importantly:

  Who am I?

  End of Preview

  Intrigued? Click here to find out more – Petal’s story is FREE in Kindle Unlimited.

  Or turn the page for a sneak peek at my bestselling dark romance – Violent Delights!

  VIOLENT DELIGHTS

  A Dark Billionaire Romance

  by

  Linnea May

  BLURB

  She agreed to play. She agreed to be mine.

  I won't let her change the rules of the game.

  Violence has always been part of my life. I was angry as a child, underchallenged and neglected, with no outlet for my dangerous rage.

  Years have passed, and I’m no longer a victim of my own aggression.

  I’m in control now.

  A control that many seek to surrender.

  Just like her.

  My Pet.

  The beautiful blonde who agreed to submit to my will.

  She agreed to be kidnapped and locked away until our contract is over.

  She’s here to play a role.

  But her defiance seems too real, her terror too honest. Watching her struggle is bone-chilling.

  She’s getting to me like no one ever has before, seizing a heart that cannot love.

  Or so I thought...

  „These violent delights have violent ends

  And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

  Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey

  Is loathsome in his own deliciousness.”

  – William Shakespeare

  Prolog

  Joseph

  She is the best one yet.

  I have played this game with many girls before, but no one ever caught my attention like she does.

  She’s waiting for me, kneeling with her thighs spread wide, her perky ass resting on her ankles, her back already arched, chest pushed forward, her neck stretched, her head held high, and the focus of her eyes is lowered to the floor. Her hands are resting, palms up, on her thighs.

  The perfect pose of the pleasure slave.

  Her chest is heaving in a steady rhythm and her eyelashes flicker when she notices me approaching.

  It’s the most alluring sight.

  My Pet.

  There is a dark side to everyone, they say. While that may be true, I doubt that most people’s dark sides even come close to those that cast their sinister shadow over the part of myself that I keep hidden.

  I’m consumed by the fury of a raging beast, something so dark and violent that even I was scared of myself once. I tried to ignore its existence, tried to push it away, but the effort was futile and only led to more chaos.

  However, I am no longer that furious boy I used to be.

  Violence has always been a part of my life, but it no longer controls me.

  Now I’m the one in control.

  I know who I am, I know how to deal with the beast raging inside, and I know what I need. I found what helps me to cope, and no one has to become part of it, unless they want to.

  This is what’s at the heart of it all.

  Choice.

  Consent.

  Rules.

  A safe setting.

  Every time I browse through the catalog of women who are willing to offer themselves to me, I am confronted with the reality of human psychology. For every sick person out there with these dark desires and needs, there is someone else who is willing to serve those demands. Together they meet the needs of each other’s twisted minds and bodies.

  We humans, as a species, are pretty fucked up.

  It’s a glorious thing.

  My Pet is here because she chose to be here, even though the reality of it may frighten her. She agreed to my offer to buy her, and she’s proving to be the perfect Pet, tailored exactly to fit my desires.

  I have been this agency’s client long enough for them to understand my personal tastes right down to the most minute detail. They know what I want from these women, they know what I will do to them, they know what traits a woman must possess, not only in regards to her physical attributes, but also her psychological makeup. And they know what I am willing to pay to satisfy my wishes.

  Thirty-nine days, just the two of us, no safe word, no escape. Absolute surrender to my will.

  She has entered a world of contradictions, a mix of freedom and discipline doled out in equal measure. One cannot exist without the other. She remains under the agency’s protection, as do I.

  However, these thirty-nine days belong to me, and there is little to no way for her to break the established routine. I want to make every second count.

  I don’t like interruptions. I need for both of us to be totally immersed, otherwise our arrangement doesn’t serve its purpose.

  Its purpose to fulfill my darkest needs.

  To satisfy my desires.

  To keep me sane.

  We are playing a game that few are able to handle. It’s more than just simple role playing in the bedroom. This feels as real as it can get. The only difference is that she knows she will get out alive at the end of it. She will return to freedom, to real life, and be an incredibly wealthy woman once our thirty-nine days are over, and she will never hear from me again.

  This is how it works, and this is how it has to work.

  She lets out a soft sigh when I caress her cheek, leaning gently into my touch instead of jerking away from it as she did only a few days ago.

  She is different. Her defiance seems real, her struggle at times too much to bear, even for me.

  She is here to be trained, for me to hurt her, to teach her. But I struggle to maintain my harsh demeanor. I struggle to train and inflict torture on her as I did to all the others before.

  Because there is something special about her. Something that makes all of this feel so very fucking wrong.

  Something is off with her. Very, very off.

  End of Preview

  Click here to learn more about Joseph and his very special pet – his story is FREE in Kindle Unlimited.