Marked By Desire - The Complete Series Read online

  Marked By Desire - The Entire Series

  Jamie Garrett

  Wild Owl Press

  Contents

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Marked By Desire - Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Marked By Desire - Book 2

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Marked By Desire - Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Marked By Desire - Book 4

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Marked By Desire - Book 5

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by Jamie Garrett

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jamie Garrett

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. All requests should be forwarded to [email protected].

  Connect with me on Facebook: http://facebook.com/JamieGarrettBooks

  Newsletter: Click here to get an email when the next book is released, plus advance sales notice and freebies.

  Marked By Desire - Book 1

  A Romantic Suspense Series

  1

  Hannah tugged the elastic band free from her tangled mass of blonde, curly hair. It felt good to let it fall down over her shoulders after leaving it tied back all day. Though she knew it was necessary—especially with her unruly curls—she hated having to leave it up. Massaging her scalp where the tie had held her hair, she arched her back and tried to loosen up her muscles. She’d spent most of the day standing.

  It had been a particularly busy day at the shop, with far more customers than usual. Lorenzo’s had grown in popularity over the last few months, gaining a lot of word of mouth publicity from its regular patrons. Hannah was glad for the business, because she really was fond of the little shop, but it wore her out.

  She had gotten home just minutes ago and, after three flights of stairs, was finally able to kick off her shoes. The run up the stairs had winded her a bit, but she wasn’t in bad shape. She was thin and shapely, mostly from the stairs and her three block walk to Lorenzo’s every day.

  Hannah changed out of her work clothing and slipped into a worn pair of yoga pants.

  Tonight, it was just going to be her, a bowl of noodles, and The Notebook. Not that Hannah was particularly sappy or anything, but it was hard to say no to a shirtless Ryan Gosling.

  Just as she’d settled down onto the couch, her phone rang. She grabbed it off the bedside table on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hannah!” It was her mother’s chipper voice on the other end. “This is the second time I’ve called. Where have you been? Did you have a date tonight, or were you still serving as slave labor?”

  Hannah rolled her eyes at her mother’s dramatization. “Yes, Mom, I just got home. I always lock up for Lorenzo, you know that.”

  She could practically hear her mother’s disapproval on the other end. “You shouldn’t get back so late,” she admonished. “It’s not safe to be walking in the streets this time of night.”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’ve done this a million times before.”

  Her mother sighed on the other end of the line. “Are you coming over for lunch on Saturday? We hardly see you anymore. Your father wants to invite that nice Englishman over, that one you got along with so well.”

  Hannah groaned. “Dad has to stop trying to set me up. I know Daddy means well, but Daniel and I really didn’t get along all that well.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” her mother argued. “You guys looked perfect together.”

  “We talked about nose jobs the entire time,” Hannah said in a flat voice. “He thinks mine is too large.”

  “Yes, but he has money, sweetheart.”

  Hannah felt a headache begin to form in the bridge of her nose. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “Mom, I like my work.”

  “Yes, but think about how you always wanted to write. What about your journalism dreams, Hannah?”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Hannah hedged. “I really wasn’t that interested in journalism—”

  “Interested enough to invest sixty thousand of your father’s money in a degree,” her mother pointed out unhelpfully. “Which he was happy to pay, but really, Hannah, what happened to those dreams?”

  “I guess I’m really not that good of a writer.”

  “Oh, honey, you’re always putting yourself down. You were always so passionate about writing.”

  Hannah slumped back into the couch, her head falling back so s
he stared at the ceiling. “Passion only takes you so far, then they want some actual samples.”

  “Which is exactly why you should have a nice, rich young man to pay your bills for you while you’re creating those samples.”

  “Mom, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  There was a brief pause and a huffing sound on the other end. “Fine. Saturday?”

  Hannah nodded, though her mother couldn’t see her. “Saturday.” She hung up the phone deciding her noodles suddenly looked very droopy and lonesome. She sighed and ate them anyway.

  Hannah got up the next morning early, dressing for work and heading out, locking the door behind her. She had to open for Lorenzo. She walked to the bakery, trusting the side streets she knew so well.

  “Hannah, oh Hannah!” Across the street stood a small woman in her blue robe with scruffy slippers. Mrs. Palmer waved with a limp wrist, like she was a poor imitation of a royal. Hannah smiled and waved back. She glanced both ways before she crossed the street for their morning exchange.

  “Morning, Mrs. Palmer,” she said cheerfully.

  The old woman glanced around her as though about to share a big secret, “I don’t much care for the cold weather, and when it turns, well…” She flapped her hands down as if to say, phooey. “My hay fever will kick in soon.”

  She adjusted the curlers holding up her frizzy gray hair.

  “It won’t be winter for a while yet,” Hannah answered.

  Mrs. Palmer grunted.

  “In for a busy day at the bakery?” she asked.

  “It’s always a busy day at Lorenzo’s,” Hannah said, looking over at the shop she could see just down the road. “I should get going. The morning rush will start soon.”

  “You need to get an assistant so you don’t have to work so hard, get some time for dating,” Mrs. Palmer said.

  “I don’t think I want to have time for dating.”

  “A pretty thing like you? Shouldn’t go to waste, dear. Look at me, I know. You have to find someone who’ll appreciate you. Someone other than that boss of yours.”

  “Lorenzo didn’t hire me for my looks.” She shook her head,

  “Nonsense! How do you think he sells so many of his pastries to those business men?” Mrs. Palmer had a devilish look in her eyes. She was mischievous old woman. “He’s not stupid. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Hannah laughed. Dear Mrs. Palmer. She always had such a high opinion of Hannah, complimenting her free spirit and wild blonde hair. Personally, Hannah felt that she didn’t make much of a first impression, but Mrs. Palmer always insisted that she was the type of natural beauty that men were on the hunt for.

  That wasn’t exactly Hannah’s first and most pressing goal in life, and yet everyone seemed focused on finding her a man.

  “I really have to go now,” she said apologetically. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Same place, same time, dear,” she answered briskly. Hannah squeezed her hand and walked back across the street. The bakery was only another street down, but if she took any more time chatting with Mrs. Palmer, she would be late.

  Part of the reason Hannah enjoyed the city so much was that it was full of people. People who were usually power walking, talking on cell phones and sipping lattes, and in general ignoring everyone else, but they were also full of energy. Hannah used to feel inspired by people watching. They made her want to write, but it had been a long time since she’d truly felt like just sitting down to tell a story.

  Not since college, back when she had passionately chased the dreams that had seemed so attainable.

  Now, her world really was all about work. Lorenzo’s was a good place to throw herself into. The atmosphere was nice, Lorenzo was always sweet to her, and she knew the regulars now so well that she occasionally went for coffee or drinks with them after work.

  That was all she really needed, not some stupid dream about making it big.

  Hannah turned the corner and arrived to an already open shop. The welcoming smell of freshly baked bread met her at the door, taking her away from her thoughts of broken dreams and disappointments.

  Lorenzo started baking at four every morning, the smells trailing out of the bakery door and windows to pour into the street, letting everyone know that it was breakfast time. They were so popular that the shop was sometimes busier than the famous coffee shop just down the road.

  “Ciao, bella!” Lorenzo said, poking his head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and waving with white flour-hands.

  “Today is a good day to make money, eh?” he said with a chuckle.

  “With your bread, every day is a good day.” Hannah smiled at Lorenzo and he laughed, pulling his head back to tend to his pastries. She took her place behind the counter and checked the display.

  Around twelve, Hannah spotted Marina in her sharp suit and high stilettos. She was one of those people who Hannah never would have known if it weren’t for Lorenzo’s. Every morning, she came in and pointed to a croissant with her perfect nails.

  Marina’s heels clacked on the linoleum as she approached the counter. She leaned over the glass and tapped on it with her long, manicured nails, pointing at the croissant she wanted.

  “We have to get to The Baron tonight,” she told Hannah pointedly. “Harold is at it again and I can do with a stiff drink and some gossip.”

  Hannah shook her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy spending time with Marina, but she had never been much of a party animal to begin with and Marina liked to drink. “You know I don’t like drinking on work nights. I have to be here for the corporate rush.”

  “Come on, Han. You haven’t had some decent loving for a while and I need to unload about this guy before I end the relationship and demand child support.”

  Hannah packed her croissant in a white box and took the cash from her.

  “I told you, you shouldn’t have stayed with the guy when you found out you were pregnant,” Hannah pointed out. “You’re already practically a single mom and even if you didn’t want to be, at least then you could go and look for a guy who’s actually interested in being a positive in your life.”

  “I know, I know, but I wanted it to be a happy family for Taylor’s sake, you know? A boy needs a dad.”

  “Sure, a boy needs his dad,” Hannah agreed. “But not when he’s a lazy bum and all his dad does is argue with his mom. Besides, you can find another man to be his dad. It doesn’t have to be the one that contributed half his DNA.”

  Marina smiled at her in an almost patronizing way, despite being nearly the same age. “You’re a darling friend, Han, but when you have kids it’s just different. Baron tonight?”

  Hannah bent down behind the counter and refilled the display, so she could think it over without Marina seeing her face. After a moment, Hannah sighed, straightening back up, and wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. It was all good and well to argue with herself, but at the end of the day she knew she was too soft not to be there for her friend.

  She mock-rolled her eyes at Marina and smiled, nodding.

  “Just not too late, okay?”

  “Of course. We’ll be home so you can be in bed by nine.” Marina smiled devilishly.

  Marina was waiting at the shop door when Hannah locked up. She was impatient; her heels—red this time, instead of her day suit black—were tapping quickly against the concrete. “Does it really take that long to close?” Marina asked, knowing full well Hannah went as quickly as she could.

  Hannah didn’t even bother with a response, instead saying, “Alright, we can go now.”

  This made Marina stop and take a good look at her friend. She eyed her up and down then said, complete with pointed finger for emphasis, “Oh, no, not with you looking like that. Honestly, Han, you can’t go out with the same clothes you worked in all day. You need to freshen up.”

  “I don’t look that bad.”

  The look on Marina’s face said otherwise.

  Hannah play-shoved h
er. “Okay, fine,” she sighed. “We can go up to the apartment really quick. I’ll change.”

  They walked down the street to the apartment. Despite insisting that Hannah change, Marina complained the entire way up the stairs. In all fairness, she was wearing high heels, but that was her choice. She knew where Hannah lived.

  “Why couldn’t you find a place with an elevator? No wonder you’re so skinny,” Marina said enviously. It wasn’t like Marina was heavy, but she was certainly voluptuous in ways that Hannah simply was not. “But you didn’t have a baby,” she continued, waving a hand dismissively. “Your body is ruined forever after something like that, trust me.”

  In the apartment, Hannah opened her closet, allowing for Marina to dig around in it, searching for what she would deem perfect for a night out on the town.

  “None of this will do,” said disapprovingly, sifting through long skirt after long skirt. “Unless we’re going to a new age concert or a head shop, I don’t think any of these are going to cut it. Don’t you have something… different?”

  Hannah groaned. They had this conversation every time they went out together. She was past getting offended at Marina’s comments; her friend meant well, she just didn’t know how to put it into the right words. She scrutinized the numerous clothes hangers and finally pulled out a little black dress from the back. It was short, but with a high collar that went straight across the sleeveless shoulders.

  “This,” Marina exclaimed, excitement lighting her face.

  Hannah pulled a face. “My interview dress?”

  “Come on, you look great in it. I’ve seen you wear it.”

  “Hasn’t worked yet,” Hannah pointed out. She wore it only for business and professional interviews. She had yet to receive a callback.

  Marina waved her manicured hand dismissively. “Nonsense. You clearly just haven’t been wearing it to the right places.” She winked. “It’s bound to get some attention tonight.”

  Hannah frowned. Three times in twenty-four hours she had been reminded of her romance-less love life. “I thought we were going out for you to complain?”