Harper A. Brooks lives in a small town on the New Jersey shore. Even though classic authors have always filled her bookshelves, she finds her writing muse drawn to the dark, magical, and romantic. But when she isn’t creating entire worlds with sexy shifters or legendary love stories, you can find her either with a good cup of coffee in hand or at home snuggling with her furry, four-legged son, Sammy.
She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance.
RONE Award Winner
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
International Bestselling Author
REAL LOVE AS IT IS. MESSY. COMPLICATED. AND SINFULLY ADDICTIVE.
Olivia enjoys crafting novels with deep, layered plots. Because it’s not just about the first kiss and the happily ever after, it’s about everything in between.
In addition to writing contemporary romance, Boothe also ventures in romantic suspense and adult fantasy.
When not locked away in her writing tower at the wee hours of the night, Olivia manages working a 9-5 job and wrangling a pack of alphas (a husband, three boys, and a doggo named Hunter). On occasion, she summons her tribe for a night of wine and shenanigans.
She narrowed her eyes, the regret I’d seen in her gaze turning to contempt. “Fuck. You.”
I shouldn’t have enjoyed the pain flickering in her eyes, but dammit, she’d hit a part of me that only knew how to push back. “That’s the second time you’ve said it. Is that what you want then, for me to fuck you?”
Her hand met the side of my face so fast, I felt the sting and heard the sharp sound before I realized what happened. Startled, I stared at her, and the blue in her eyes changed to red, fangs pushing past her lips.
I deserved that slap and more for being such a prick. But shit, there was something maddeningly sexy about seeing her so full of rage and transformed. As I gazed into the glow of her eyes, I felt a stream of hot liquid trickle down my chin. Reaching up to touch my face, I smelled the blood before feeling its warmth coat my fingers. I rotated my jaw to ease the throbbing pain of her blow. She’d not only clocked me good, she’d cut me. From the amount of blood, the gash had been deep.
She’d wanted to piss me off, but her anger and defiance only made me burn hotter for her. Using my thumb, I smeared the blood across her lips, mocking her attempts to rile me, but also needing to quell my need to touch her. “How’s that taste, Beastie?”
Her eyes became glossy as she licked the blood off her lips, the sight of her tongue brushing across her plump mouth making my body stiffen and sending an electric current straight to my cock.
“Do it,” she said, leaning in, her voice breathy. “Fuck me. Or are you only about empty threats?”
I loved the mischief in her eyes and the challenge in her words. She could try to deny it if she wanted, but I felt it. How badly she wanted me to kiss her. How needy she was for my blood. The smart thing would’ve been to end this dangerous game. There was no point in playing if I didn’t intend to finish.
But I was too weak against the lure of her shiny gaze and the warm scent of her skin. Drawing in close, I caged her in my arms as I placed my palms against the tree trunk, taking in that sweetness that perfumed her entire body. Bending my head down, I feathered my lips against the soft flesh of her neck, and whispered, “Oh, Beastie. I’ll only give you what you want if you beg for it.”