Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(74)



I held Malcolm’s gaze and let a smile cross my lips. “So am I.”





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How will Rory tackle the next challenges the scions throw at her—and will the barons’ schemes bring her more heartbreak? Find out in Vile Sorcery, the second book in the Royals of Villain Academy series. Get Vile Sorcery now!



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Next in the Royals of Villain Academy series





Vile Sorcery (Royals of Villain Academy #2)





Rory’s battle to survive Villain Academy has only just begun. Vicious treachery, unexpected allies, thrilling passion, and wrenching heartbreak await in Vile Sorcery…



Full description and cover coming soon.

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A Study in Seduction excerpt





Did you know I have a suspenseful reverse harem paranormal series in which the heroine is the villain? In Moriarty’s Men, criminal mastermind Jemma Moriarty matches wits with London’s most brilliant detectives—and sparks fly! Here’s a sneak peek inside the first book, A Study in Seduction.

A STUDY IN SEDUCTION





1





I slipped into the reception hall crowd like a lover’s hand easing up a skirt, half of my attention on the figures around me and half watching for the man I was going to ruin.

The finest investigative minds in the world filled the expansive room, all decked out in their cocktail best. The light from the crystal chandeliers shimmered off silk and satin. Voices bounced off the high molded ceiling, their tones bright thanks to the champagne that was flowing so freely I could taste the bubbles in the air.

The sequins on my violet evening gown whispered as I sidestepped between a few Australian sergeants and a couple of Peruvian detectives. I smiled demurely at the latter. One of the sergeants, who looked as though his suit was wearing him more than him the suit, took a surreptitious picture of the reception’s finery with his phone. This gala was a pretty far cry from a normal day for a cop on the beat.

A waiter swept by with a platter of canapes, but I’d eaten before I arrived. The moment of action wasn’t going to catch me with my hands full of poached pear on brioche. The wine glass in my hand served as a perfectly good prop—especially since I could transform it into a weapon with a quick smash, on the off-chance I needed one.

Even in distinguished company, you could never be sure. And not all of my company here was distinguished.

Ah, there was my man. If the cops and PIs around me had been half as good at their jobs as their being invited here should suggest, they’d have noted the recently released convict in their midst. The catering uniform fit the guy’s stocky form just fine, but there were telltale signs a few months out of the clink could hardly come close to erasing. The marks on his shoes. The hang of his hair.

He’d been posted at the champagne table doling out glasses. That would make it easy to keep track of him.

The guy could have used some lessons in subtlety. I followed his gaze to the Glasgow commissioner. The woman was flicking back her fluffy blond bob as she chatted with a younger female officer who’d dabbed on enough face powder to turn an elephant Honey Beige. My convict was just barely restraining a glower at her.

The steady beat of my pulse picked up its pace in anticipation, but it wasn’t time for either of us to make a move yet. I drifted in the commissioner’s general direction. My mouth had gone a bit dry.

Everything was in place. There was no reason to get anxious, even if the consequences of failure would be devastating. Better to simply put that possibility out of my mind.

Another face caught my eye, this one from an interview I’d been perusing yesterday. I paused and turned toward it.

“Professor Charleston, isn’t it?” I said, holding out my hand and beaming at the droopy-eyed man as if my life depended on this gambit. Which it very well might. “I’ve been following your work on trace evidence retrieval for years. It’s an honor to be in the same room as you.”

The professor made a pleased sound, with a twitch of his suit jacket like a bird ruffling its feathers to show off its plumage. As he shook my hand with a brisk pump, he peered at me, from my face down to the narrow but precipitous dip of my neckline, and then jerked his gaze back up. A little skin could make a large impression if you picked the right part of the landscape.

“I considered it an honor to be asked to lead one of the seminars here,” he said. “It’s good to know I have some wisdom worth imparting on the next generation.”

“Absolutely! I’m dying to hear more about your recent strategies regarding gunshot residue. We’ll see if I can’t score a front row seat tomorrow.”

My enthusiasm brought a flush to the professor’s cheeks. “I’d save you one if I could.”

I waggled a finger at him. “I’ll just have to be resourceful. I’d better give the rest of the attendees a chance to talk to you before I embarrass myself with my gushing.”

Professor Charleston chuckled as I gave him a little wave and glided onward. I continued smiling, now to myself. He might as well be tied up in a gift box with a bow on top.

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