Ana Huang

Alex Volkov is a devil blessed with the face of an angel and cursed with a past he can’t escape. Driven by a tragedy that has haunted him for most of his life, his ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance leave little room for matters of the heart. But when he’s forced to look after his best friend’s sister, he starts to feel something in his chest: A crack. A melt. A fire that could end his world as he knew it. *** Ava Chen is a free spirit trapped by nightmares of a childhood she can’t remember. But despite her broken past, she’s never stopped seeing the beauty in the world…including the heart beneath the icy exterior of a man she shouldn’t want. Her brother’s best friend. Her neighbor. Her savior and her downfall. Theirs is a love that was never supposed to happen—but when it does, it unleashes secrets that could destroy them both…and everything they hold dear.

Twisted Love is a brother’s best friend/opposites attract romance with a hint of suspense. It's book one in the Twisted series but can be read as a standalone.

WARNING: This book contains a possessive, morally gray alphahole; explicit sexual content, and profanity. No cheating or menage, but if you're looking for a traditionally sweet, loveable hero, this is not the book for you. Recommended for 18+.

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AVA

THERE WERE WORSE THINGS THAN BEING STRANDED IN THE MIDDLE OF nowhere during a rainstorm. For example, I could be running from a rabid bear intent on mauling me into the next century. Or I could be tied to a chair in a dark basement and forced to listen to Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” on repeat until I’d rather gnaw off my arm than hear the song’s eponymous phrase again. But just because things could be worse didn’t mean they didn’t suck.

Stop. Think positive thoughts.

I stared at my phone, biting back my frustration when the app reassured me it was "finding my ride", the way it had been for past half and hour

Normally, I’d be less stressed about the situation because hey, at least I had a working phone and a bus shelter to keep me mostly dry from the pounding rain. But Josh’s farewell party was starting in an hour, I had yet to pick up his surprise cake from the bakery, and it would be dark soon.

I may be a glass half full kinda gal, but I wasn’t an idiot. No one—especially not a college girl with zero fighting skills to speak of—wants to find herself alone in the middle of nowhere after dark.

I mentally scrolled through my limited options. The bus that stopped at this location didn’t run on the weekends, and most of my friends didn’t own a car.

Bridget had car service, but she was at an embassy event until seven. Uber wasn’t working, and I hadn’t seen a single car pass by since the rain started. Not that I would hitchhike, anyway—I’ve watched horror movies, thank you very much.

I only had one option left—one I really didn’t want to take—but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I pulled up the contact in my phone, said a silent prayer, and pressed the call button.

One ring. Two ring. Three

I wasn’t sure which would be worse—getting murdered or dealing with my brother. Of course, there was always the chance said brother would murder me himself for putting myself in such a situation, but I’d deal with that later.

i Scrunched my nose at his greeting.

True. We preferred texting, and we lived next door to each other—not my idea, by the way—so we rarely had to message at all.

I told him.

Thunder boomed, shaking the branches of nearby trees. I winced and shrank farther back into the shelter, not that it did me much good. The rain slanted sideways, splattering me with water droplets so heavy and hard they stung when they hit my skin.

A rustling noise came from Josh’s end, followed by a soft mõan.

I paused, sure I’d heard wrong, but nope, there it was again. Another mõan.

I whispershouted, even though no one else was around.

The sandwich I’d scarfed down before I left for my shoot threatened to make a reappearance. There was nothing—I repeat nothing—grosser than listening to a relative while they’re mid-cöitus. Just the thought made me gag.

Josh sounded unrepentant.

The word “technically” did a lot of heavy lifting there. It didn’t take a genius to decipher Josh’s vague reply. He may not be having intercourse, but something was going on, and I had zero desire to find out what that “something” was.

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He must’ve covered his phone with his hand, because his next words came through muffled. I heard a soft, feminine laugh followed by a squeal, and I wanted to bleach my ears, my eyes, my mind.

Josh said, his voice clear again.

I’d wanted a new camera bag, but Josh had bought me an eight-pack of pepper spray instead. I’d never used any of it, which meant all eight bottles—minus the one tucked in my purse—were sitting snug in the back of my closet.

My sarcasm went over my brother’s head. For a straight-A pre-med student, he could be quite dense.

I protested.

Too late. He’d already hung up. Figured the one time I wanted him to elaborate, he’d ditch me for one of his bed buddies. I was surprised he hadn’t freaked out more, considering Josh put the “over” in overprotective.

Ever since “The Incident,” he’d taken it upon himself to look after me like he was my brother and bodyguard rolled into one.

I didn’t blame him—our childhood had been a hundred shades of messed up, or so I’d been told—and I loved him to pieces, but his constant worrying could be a bit much.

I sat sideways on the bench and hugged my bag to my side, letting the cracked leather warm my skin while I waited for the mysterious “he” to show up. It could be anyone. Josh had no shortage of friends. He’d always been Mr. Popular—basketball player, student body president, and homecoming king in High school.

Sigma fraternity brother and Big Man on Campus in college.

I was his opposite. Not unpopular per se, but I shied away from the limelight and would rather have a small group of close friends than a large group of friendly acquaintances.

Where Josh was the life of the party, I sat in the corner and daydreamed about all the places I would love to visit but would probably never get to. Not if my phobia had anything to do with it.

I knew it was all mental, but it felt physical. The nausea, the racing heart, the paralyzing fear that turned my limbs into useless, frozen things...

On the bright side, at least I wasn’t afraid of rain. Oceans and lakes and pools, I could avoid, but rain…yeah, that would’ve been bad.

I wasn’t sure how long I huddled in the tiny bus shelter, cursing my lack of foresight when I turned down the Graysons’ offer to drive me back to town after our shoot. I hadn’t wanted to inconvenience them and thought I could call an Uber and be back at Thayer’s campus in half an hour, but the skies opened up right after the couple left and, well, here I was.

It was getting dark. Muted grays mingled with the cool blues of twilight, and part of me worried the mysterious “he” wouldn’t show up, but Josh had never let me down.

If one of his friends failed to pick me up like he’d asked, they wouldn’t have working legs tomorrow.

Josh was a med student, but he had zero compunction about using violence when the situation called for it— especially when the situation involved me.

The bright beam of headlights slashed through the rain. I squinted, my heart tripping in both anticipation and wariness as I weighed the odds of whether the car belonged to my ride or a potential psycho. This part of Maryland was pretty safe, but you never knew.

When my eyes adjusted to the light, I slumped with relief, only to stiffen again two seconds later.

Good news? I recognized the sleek, black Aston Martin pulling up toward me. It belonged to one of Josh’s friends, which meant I wouldn’t end up a local news item tonight.

Bad news? The person driving said Aston Martin was the last person I wanted—or expected—to pick me up.

He wasn’t an I’ll do my buddy a favor and rescue his stranded little sister kinda guy. He was a look at me wrong, and I’ll destroy you and everyone you care about kinda guy, and he’d do it looking so calm and gorgeous you wouldn’t notice your world burning down around you until you were already a heap of ashes at his Tom Ford-clad feet.

I swiped the tip of my tongue over my dry lips as the car stopped in front of me and the passenger window rolled down.

He didn’t raise his voice—he never raised his voice—but I still heard him loud and clear over the rain.

ALEX VOLKOV

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