Stay Toxic

You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

The first day that she walked onto the surgical floor that Chevy Clayborne spent most of his time on, he knew that he’d do anything to make her his. For two years, he played the long game. He slowly insinuated himself into her life, and the moment that she needed him, he swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he only pretended to be but most assuredly wasn’t. He’s no real knight. In fact, he’s the villain in everyone’s story but his own.

Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

Six Ines Broussard walks right into the middle of hell. And at the center of it? Lynnwood Thatcher. The mayor. The man that she took one glance at on the night of his inauguration and dismissed as boring. A total stick in the mud. Only, he’s not so boring shirtless, in the middle of nowhere, doing things that are very illegal. At first, she’s appalled. Then her interest gets piqued. Stuck-up suit is hot! And he has tattoos. Then, he goes and kidnaps her...and she soon realizes, nobody is quite as hot as you thought they were when they’re holding you hostage.

She was enraptured by the man they called Romeo the moment that he turned those butterscotch-colored eyes her way. What wasn’t to love about a big, burly, plaid-wearing lumberjack? He was tall, gorgeous, and knew how to wield a chainsaw better than Leatherface. He could fell a tree in seconds, had thighs that were as thick as said trees, filled out a pair of Wranglers better than any cowboy ever, and didn’t care that she could operate heavy machinery better than him. He was everything a girl like Mable could ask for. The caveat?