It’s live! Darker Than Love is now available in e-book, paperback, and audiobook!!
Anna Zaires and I had an awesome time working together to bring you this extra long, enemies-to-lovers, standalone romance. Sparks fly when a sinfully hot Russian killer goes after the equally dangerous woman who betrayed him, and you get 508 pages of the heat and action! We hope you will enjoy Mina and Yan’s story as much as we enjoyed writing it.
“A captive heroine, an anti-hero, the
Russian mafia and Anna Zaires/Charmaine Pauls teaming up to write a dark
romance? That checks all my boxes. Darker than Love is a captivating, dark,
super-hot read! Loved this book and hope there’s more to come!” — Natasha
Knight
Darker Than Love Once upon a cold, dark night, a Russian killer stole me from an alley. I’m dangerous, but he is lethal. I escaped once. He won’t let me do it twice.
The revenge is his. The betrayal is mine. But so are the lies to protect the ones I love.
We’re cut from the same twisted cloth. Both merciless. Both damaged. In his embrace, I find hell and heaven, his cruelly tender touch destroying and uplifting me at once.
They say a cat has nine lives, but an assassin has just one. And Yan Ivanov now owns mine.
Have you read the free
prequel? Dive right in! (The prequel, Sweeter
Than Hate, is part of the book, Darker
Than Love, so you don’t have to read the prequel if you prefer to jump
straight into the book.)
11 Days to go! Working on this story with Anna Zaires was a blast! We made it dark. We made it hot. We made it for you! Darker Than Love is an extra long, enemies to lovers, standalone novel. Make use of the pre-order special to get it at the discounted price. The price will go up after the launch on 28 January. Get ready for Yan and Mink’s moving and action-packed story!
Darker Than Love (A standalone enemies to lovers dark romance) Once upon a cold, dark night, a Russian killer stole me from an alley. I’m dangerous, but he is lethal. I escaped once. He won’t let me do it twice.
The revenge is his. The betrayal is mine. But so are the lies to protect the ones I love.
We’re cut from the same twisted cloth. Both merciless. Both damaged. In his embrace, I find hell and heaven, his cruelly tender touch destroying and uplifting me at once.
They say a cat has nine lives, but an assassin has just one. And Yan Ivanov now owns mine.
My friend and co-author of Darker Than Love, Anna Zaires, and I have a big surprise for you. We’re releasing the first part of Darker Than Love EARLY and for FREE as our Thanksgiving gift to you.
The prequel is titled Sweeter Than Hateand is available from NOW. If you’re dying to have a sneak peek at this dark, hot, and double-the-trouble romance, this is your chance.
You DO NOT have to read this prequel before Darker Than Love, because the prequel is included in the Darker Than Love novel. If you prefer to read the complete story in one go, please wait for the release on 28 January 2020.
If you decide to snatch
up Sweeter Than Hate, we hope you’ll enjoy the beginning of Mina and
Yan’s deliciously dark and forbidden tale.
Hugs, and happy
Thanksgiving to all our American friends!
I shouldn’t have heard the things I did. Shouldn’t have attracted his attention. Now I feel his stare like a touch. Viscerally. Acutely. The Russian assassin has me in his sights, and there’s only one way out. His bed. It’s a good thing I’m drawn to danger.
It’s finally here! I couldn’t wait to share this beauty with you. A big thank you to Najla Qamber for this stunning cover. This extra-long standalone dark romance is hot and intense and oh so full of feels. Co-writing the story with one of my all-time favorite authors of whom I’m a super fan, Anna Zaires, is an absolute blast and so much fun. I’m sure you’re going to feel that special energy coming right off the pages when you read it. 🙂 Anna and I will have more exciting news for you soon, so watch this space!
Once upon a cold, dark night, a Russian killer stole me from an alley. I’m dangerous, but he is lethal. I escaped once. He won’t let me do it twice.
The revenge is his. The betrayal is mine. But so are the lies to protect the ones I love.
We’re cut from the same twisted cloth. Both merciless. Both damaged. In his embrace, I find hell and heaven, his cruelly tender touch destroying and uplifting me at once.
They say a cat has nine lives, but an assassin has just one. And Yan Ivanov now owns mine.
(*Darker Than Love is a spinoff of Anna Zaires’ Tormentor Mine series, but you don’t need to read the series to follow this standalone story. For the most reading enjoyment, I highly recommend that you read this awesome dark romance series.)
Once upon a cold, dark night, a Russian killer stole me from an alley. I’m dangerous, but he is lethal. I escaped once. He won’t let me do it twice.
The revenge is his. The betrayal is mine. But so are the lies to protect the ones I love.
We’re cut from the same twisted cloth. Both merciless. Both damaged. In his embrace, I find hell and heaven, his cruelly tender touch destroying and uplifting me at once.
They say a cat has nine lives, but an assassin has just one. And Yan Ivanov now owns mine.
Excerpt
“So,
how long have you worked at the bar?” the guy with the skull tattoos—the
seemingly kinder one—asks when I remove my winter jacket and we sit down in the
living room. With its Soviet-style orange wallpaper and brown drapes, this
place looks like it hasn’t been renovated since the eighties, but the ratty
couch we’re sitting on is surprisingly comfortable. Maybe I will take him up on his offer to sleep
here. That is, if they don’t kill me and dump my body in the river before
sunrise.
I
think my captor was just testing my language skills with that proposal, but I
can’t be sure.
“Mina?”
the man prompts, and I realize I zoned out instead of answering his question.
Now that some of the adrenaline is fading, the extreme exhaustion is back,
muddling my thoughts and slowing my reactions. I want nothing more than to
stretch out on this couch and fall asleep, but I might not wake up if I do.
The
Russians might decide that what I heard merits killing me rather than just
keeping me captive overnight.
“I’ve
worked there for a couple of years,” I answer, my voice shaking. It’s easy to
sound terrified… because I am.
I’m
with two men who may want to kill me, and I’m in no state to defend myself.
The
only thing that gives me hope is that they haven’t already done so. They
could’ve easily murdered me in the alley; they didn’t need to bring me here for
that. Of course, there’s another possibility, one that every woman must
consider.
They
might be planning to rape me before killing me, in which case bringing me here
makes perfect sense.
The
thought makes my stomach churn, the old memories threatening to crowd in, but
underneath the fear and disgust is something darker, infinitely more fucked up.
The brief sizzle of arousal I’d experienced at the bar was nothing compared to how
it had felt when the dangerous stranger caged me against the wall, caressing my
face with that cruel gentleness. My body—the weak, ruined body I’ve spent the
past year hating—had come to life with such force, it was as if fireworks had
ignited under my skin, liquifying my core and burning away my inhibitions.
Was
he able to sense it?
Did
he know how badly I wanted him to keep touching me?
I
think he did. And more than that, I think he wanted to. His eyes—a hard,
gem-like green—had watched me with the dark intensity of a predator, taking in
every twitch of my lashes, every hitch of my breath. If we’d been alone, he
might’ve kissed me… or killed me on the spot.
It’s
hard to tell with him.
“Do
you like it? Working at the bar, I mean?” the tattooed man asks, bringing my
attention back to him. Now he is easy
to read. There’s unmistakable male interest in the way he looks at me, an
obvious gleam in his green eyes.
Wait
a sec. Green eyes?
“Are
you two brothers?” I blurt out, then silently curse myself. I’m so tired I’m
not thinking straight. The last thing I need is for these two to imagine I’m
gathering information on them, or—
“We
are.” A smile lights up his broad face, softening his harsh features. “Twins,
in fact.”
Shit.
I did not need to know that. The next
thing I know, he’ll be telling me his—
“I’m
Ilya, by the way,” he says, extending one big paw toward me. “And my brother’s
name is Yan.”
Oh,
fuck. I’m so screwed. They are going
to kill me. “Nice to meet you,” I say weakly, shaking his hand on autopilot. My
grip is as limp as my voice, but that’s okay. I’m playing a damsel in distress,
and the more convincing I am, the better.
Too
bad the act is mostly real these days.
Ilya
squeezes my hand gingerly, as if afraid of inadvertently crushing my bones, and
hope nibbles at me. He wouldn’t be so careful with me if they were planning to
brutally rape and kill me, would he?
As
if reading my thoughts, he gives me another smile, an even kinder one this
time, and says gruffly, “I’m sorry about my brother. He’s used to seeing
enemies around every corner. You will
walk away from this unharmed, I promise you, malyshka. We need to keep you
overnight as a precaution, that’s all.”
Strangely,
I believe him. Or at least I believe that he
intends me no harm. The jury is still out on his brother—who chooses that exact
moment to walk in, carrying a cup of tea in one hand and two beers in the
other.
My
breath catches in my throat as he—Yan—sets the drinks on the coffee table in
front of us and sits down between me and Ilya, unapologetically wedging himself
into the too-small space. Instinctively, I scoot to the side, as far as the
couch allows, but that’s only about six centimeters, and my leg ends up pressed
against his, the heat of his body burning me even through the layers of our
clothing.
He’s
shed the suede winter jacket he was wearing earlier, and is now dressed like he
was in the bar, in the stylish dress pants and button-up shirt. Except his
sleeves are rolled up, exposing muscular forearms lightly dusted with dark
hair.
He’s
strong, this ruthless captor of mine. Strong and superbly fit, his body a
deadly weapon under those perfectly tailored clothes.
“Tea,”
he says in that smooth, deep voice of his, so different from his brother’s
rougher tones. “As per the princess’s request.”
“Thank
you,” I mumble, reaching for the cup. My hands are visibly shaking, my
breathing is shallow, and I’m sweating—and none of it is an act. I can smell
the clean, masculine scent of his cologne—something sensual and airy, like
pepper and sandalwood—and his nearness unsettles me, making my insides riot
with a confusing mixture of fear and desire. Even if he wasn’t danger
personified, I’d be drawn to his magnetic good looks, but knowing what I know
about him—about what he does and what he might do to me—I can’t control my
helpless response to him.
Even
my tiredness recedes, leaving me jittery and high, as if I’d downed two liters
of espresso.
I’m
acutely aware of his gaze on me as I bring the cup to my lips and take a sip,
suppressing a hiss at the scalding temperature of the water. I’m trying not to
look at him, to just focus on my tea, but I can’t help staring at his hands as
he reaches over and grabs a beer, then twists off the cap with a practiced
motion. His fingers are long and masculine, and though his nails are neatly
groomed, the calluses on the edges of his thumbs belie the elegance of his
appearance.
This
is a man used to doing things with his hands.
Terrible,
violent things.
A
normal woman would be repulsed by the thought, but my heart hammers faster, and
an aching pulse starts between my legs, my underwear dampening with liquid
heat. The darkness in him calls to me, making me feel alive in a way I’ve never
experienced before.
It’s
as if like recognizes like, the wrongness in me craving the same in him.
Ilya
picks up the remaining bottle, his hands thick and rough, with a few tattoos on
the back. There’s no pretense in him, no attempt to hide what he is behind an
elegant mask. “To new friends,” he says, clinking his bottle against his
brother’s and then, more gently, against my cup of tea. I risk a glance at him,
but catch Yan’s hard green gaze instead.
I
quickly look away, but not before a betraying flush crawls up my neck and
covers my face. “To new friends,” I repeat, staring into my cup as if I might
see my fate written in the tea leaves. I’m not sure I want Yan to know about
the effect he has on me—though he probably already does.
I’m
not exactly at the top of my game tonight.
“Yes,
to new friends,” Yan murmurs, his large hand landing on my knee and squeezing
it lightly.
Startled,
I look over at him and see him tipping back the beer, his strong throat working
as he swallows. It’s a strangely sensual sight, and my insides clench as he
lowers the bottle and meets my gaze, his eyes darkly intent as the hand on my
knee moves a couple of inches up my thigh, closer to where I’m wet and aching.
Oh
God.
He
knows.
He
definitely knows.
“Ilya,”
he says quietly, still holding my gaze. “Make us a couple of sandwiches, will
you? I think Mina here is hungry.”
“She
is?” Ilya sounds confused as he stands up, and I look up to find him frowning
at us—specifically, at my thigh, where Yan’s hand is resting so possessively.
Slowly, tension permeates his big body, his hands flexing at his sides as his
gaze swings to his brother’s face.
“I
don’t think she’s hungry,” he bites out, his voice low and hard. His eyes cut
to me. “Are you, Mina?”
I
swallow thickly, unsure of what the right answer is. If I’m reading this right,
Yan has just staked some sort of an exclusive claim on me, one that I would
reinforce if I admitted to this made-up hunger.
Is
that what I want?
To
send away the brother who’s been nice to me, so I could be alone with the man
who proposed dumping my body in the river?
“A…
a sandwich would be nice.” The words don’t seem to belong to me, yet it’s my
voice saying them, even as my brain scrambles to figure out the implications.
“That is, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Ilya’s
mouth thins. “Fine. I’ll see what we have in the fridge.”
And turning around, he stalks off, leaving me on the couch with his brother.
I have thrilling book news! What is more exciting than announcing the release of a new book? The release of a new book AND a writing collaboration with one of my all-time favorite authors! Anna Zaires and I combined forces to bring you Darker Than Love, an extra-long, intensely dark and sexy standalone book.
Darker Than Love is a spinoff of Anna Zaires’ Tormentor Mine series, but you’ll be able to follow this story even if you haven’t read the series. However, if you’re not familiar with this series, I highly recommend these dark reads! This is the perfect time to catch up. Read more about the series here.
Darker Than Love releases on 28 January 2020, and will also be available in audio and paperback on the same date (and in German, French, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, and Portuguese a few months after).
The cover reveal is on 1 November, so watch this space and make sure you’re signed up for my newsletter so that you don’t miss out. We’ll soon have a signup link for bloggers.
Join my Facebook readers’ group and see the teasers, excerpts, and latest developments first!
Anna and I can’t wait to
share this story with you! 💜
Darker Than Love (A standalone dark romance)
Once upon a cold, dark night, a Russian killer stole me from an alley. I’m dangerous, but he is lethal. I escaped once. He won’t let me do it twice.
The revenge is his. The betrayal is mine. But so are the lies to protect the ones I love.
We’re cut from the same twisted cloth. Both merciless. Both damaged. In his embrace, I find hell and heaven, his cruelly tender touch destroying and uplifting me at once.
They say a cat has nine lives, but an assassin has just one. And Yan Ivanov now owns mine.
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