Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
This new stalker is as real as they come. Emerging not as a hallucination, but as a living nightmare, one that’s been waiting for her longer than she could have ever known, watching from the shadows and anticipating his chance to strike.
The masked terror brings Harper’s past to life, twisting her mind with fear and unease. He manipulates her every move and as he watches her unravel, he leaves just enough doubt to question her own sanity. Is she going crazy? Losing her mind? And after everything she’s already suffered through, who’s going to believe her now?
No one… except the one man she should never want.
Her forbidden lover, her delicious step-uncle, Knight Slater.
Determined to unravel this twisted web of secrets, obsession, and betrayal, and put an end to Harper’s suffering once and for all, Knight must face the impossible—even if it means sacrificing himself to protect the one woman he’s ever loved—the one woman he should never have touched.
As the masked figure closes in, Harper will risk it all—not just her career and reputation, but a love that defies every boundary, to stop a madman who’s determined to finish what her nightmares started.
Ready or not, he’s coming for you.
Ready or Not is the second book in The Hide and Seek Duet and completes Harper and Knight's story. It is a pitch black stalker romance and is recommended for mature readers
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
HARPER-RAYN
Blood pools across the grease-stained concrete of the hospital parking garage as I clutch my side, agony tearing through my body like never before, like somebody had stabbed a red-hot fire poker right through my abdomen.
My bottom lip quivers, tears sting my eyes, and my chest heaves. I don’t want to break down into heavy, broken sobs as I lie here helplessly bleeding out all alone. I can’t give in. I’m not ready to leave this world, not yet, and certainly not like this.
I press my side harder, feeling hot waves of blood pool over my fingers, and as the pressure rocks through me, I cry out, the pain too much for me to bear. Hot tears drench my face as I hastily look around, desperate for help. Desperate for anybody to find me.
“HELP!” I cry, my voice breaking, knowing that nobody is coming. “Help.”
I’m all alone.
Shift change for the hospital has already happened. Everybody is already too busy rushing around helping everyone else but me.
I’m not going to make it. I’m losing too much blood, and my body already feels so weak, but I need to survive this. I won’t allow that asshole to get away with dressing up as my most feared hallucination and ending my life here in a dirty parking garage. That is not my story. That is not how this ends.
I look around, frantically searching for something . . . anything that could help me. There’s not a soul in sight, just the sound of my pained cries echoing through the near-empty parking garage, but if I don’t get help soon . . . shit.
My bag lies on the ground a few feet away, the contents strewn across the dirty ground. I don’t remember dropping my bag, but I must have at some point. My phone peeks out from the top, and realizing it’s my only lifeline, I try to reach for it.
Pain shoots through my abdomen, and more blood spills over my fingers. It’s excruciating. I’ve never felt such agony in my life, but I push through it as I cry out, gritting my teeth as I roll my body, needing to crawl to get it.
Using my toes, I push against the concrete, trying to inch closer to the phone as I desperately keep pressure on my wound. Every second counts. If I release my hold on my waist, my blood would pour out at a rate I couldn’t possibly survive, and despite the way my body grows heavier with every breath I take, I can’t give up just yet.
I need to fight through this. I need to keep going, just a little while longer.
Gritting my teeth as the pain soars through my body, I reach further, my fingers finally grasping the corner of my phone, just enough to be able to pull it back into my chest. The moment I do, my body collapses heavily against the ground.
Blood pools across the grease-stained concrete of the hospital parking garage as I clutch my side, agony tearing through my body like never before, like somebody had stabbed a red-hot fire poker right through my abdomen.
My bottom lip quivers, tears sting my eyes, as my chest heaves. I don’t want to break down into strangled, broken sobs as I lie here helplessly bleeding out all alone. I can’t give in. I’m not ready to leave this world, not yet, and certainly not like this.
I press my side harder, feeling hot waves of blood pool over my fingers, and as the pressure rocks through me, I cry out, the pain too much for me to bear. Hot tears drench my face as I hastily look around, desperate for help. Desperate for anybody to find me.
“HELP!” I cry, my voice breaking, knowing that nobody is coming. “Help.”
I’m all alone.
Shift change for the hospital has already happened. Everybody is already too busy rushing around helping everyone else but me.
I’m not going to make it. I’m losing too much blood, and my body already feels so weak, but I need to survive this. I won’t allow that asshole to get away with dressing up as my most feared hallucination and ending my life here in a dirty parking garage. That is not my story. That is not how this ends.
I look around, frantically searching for something . . . anything that could help me. There’s not a soul in sight, just the sound of my pained cries echoing through the near-empty parking garage, but if I don’t get help soon . . . shit.
My bag lies on the ground a few feet away, the contents strewn across the dirty ground. I don’t remember dropping my bag, but I must have at some point. My phone peeks out from the top, and realizing it’s my only lifeline, I try to reach for it.