Megan Hart

It's an acquired taste…he just has to acquire it.

Elise knows what she wants in the bedroom and she makes sure she gets it. Her thirst for domination has long been quenched by a stable of men only too happy to bow down before her.

But sexual satisfaction isn't the same as love, and she's been burned in the past by giving her heart too freely.

Niall is handsome, smart, successful and sweet – sweet as vanilla. When they meet, their romantic connection is electric, even though he's way on the opposite end of the kink spectrum. Despite how she fights it, Elise falls for him – but how can a relationship work when both lovers want to be on top?

“Hart wields her pen like a scalpel…in this soul–searching, emotionally sensitive story. Strong characterization and smooth, yet forceful, writing captures your attention and holds you hostage.” – RT BookReviews on The Space Between Us

"A gripping, lyrical journey." – Kirkus Reviews on Tear You Apart

Apart, they are broken, but together, they are whole 

Effie and Heath are famous. Not for anything they did, but for what happened to them as teenagers. Abducted and abused by the same man, they turned to each other for comfort until they were finally able to make their escape. 

Now adults, their relationship is fraught with guilt and despair. Whether fighting or making love, their passion is strong enough to destroy them both–and Effie's not about to let that happen. She knows it's time for her to have a "normal" relationship, and Heath is nothing but a constant reminder of the dark past they share. Heath, on the other hand, knows Effie is the only woman he can ever love. She may want to forget what happened, but he's convinced that they must face their past together in order to move forward. So while Effie continues to bring new men into her life, Heath becomes obsessed with proving he's the one she needs. 

Then a new crisis arises and Effie begins to lose every scrap of self–control she ever had. As she struggles against her desire to return to the one man who understands her, she discovers that sometimes the only safety you find is with the person who is the most dangerous for you.

From New York Times bestselling author Megan Hart comes an evocative story of a woman trying to find her place in a world she's not sure she belongs…

Brought up in the savage captivity of her unstable grandmother's rural Pennsylvania home, Mari Calder once yearned for rescue. Now she struggles every day to function as an adult in the confines of normal society. Left with only foggy recollection of her childhood, she's consumed with being a dutiful wife to her husband, Ryan, and mother to their two children.

But an unexpected twist of events returns her to that long–forgotten house in the woods. Soon, Mari is greeted with reminders of a past life, the clarified memories only inviting a new level of strangeness into her fragile world. To protect her family, she must find the beautiful, powerful strength hidden in her inner chaos. Because someone is bent on exploiting Mari's trauma, and as normal and wild begin to blend, a string of devastating truths force Mari to question all she thought she knew.

“Haunting, devastating, heart–wrenching.”–RT Book Reviews on Precious and Fragile Things

Gilly Soloman has been reduced to a mothering machine, taking care of everyone and everything except herself. Burned–out and exhausted by the endless days of crying children and menial tasks, Gilly doesn't immediately consider the consequences when she's carjacked. With a knife to her throat, her first thought is that she'll finally get some rest. Someone can save her for a change.

But salvation isn't so forthcoming. Stranded in a remote, snowbound cabin with this stranger, hours turn to days, days into weeks. As time forges a fragile bond between them, she learns her captor is not the lunatic she first believed, but a human being whose wasted life has been shaped by secrets and tragedy. Yet even as their connection begins to foster trust, Gilly knows she must never forget he's still a man teetering on the edge, one who's not about to let her leave. And she cannot stay.

The anonymous note wasn't for me. I'm not in the habit of reading other people's mail, but it was just a piece of paper with a few lines scrawled on it, clearly meant for the apartment upstairs. It looked innocent, but decidedly – deliciously – it was not.

Before replacing the note – and the ones that followed – in its rightful slot, I devoured its contents: suggestions, instructions, summonses, commands. Each was more daring, intricate and arousing than the last…and I followed them all to the letter. Before the notes, if a man had told me what to do, I'd have told him where to go. But submission is an art, and there's something oddly freeing about doing someone's bidding…especially when it feels so very, very good.

But I find that the more I surrender, the more powerful I feel – so it's time to switch up roles. We play by my rules now.

Their passion will consume everything – and everyone – in its path…

I'm on a train. I don't know which stop I got on at. I only know the train is going fast and the world outside becomes a blur. I should get off, but I don't. The universe is playing a cosmic joke on me. Here I had my life – a good life with everything a woman could want – and suddenly, there is something more I didn't know I could have. A chance for me to be satisfied and content and maybe even deliriously, amazingly, exuberantly happy.

So this is where I am: on a train that's out of control and I am not just a passenger. I'm the one shovelling the furnace full of coal to keep it going faster and faster.

If I could make myself believe it all happened by chance and I couldn't help it, that I've been swept away, that it's not my fault, that it's fate… would that be easier? The truth is, I didn't know I was looking for this until I found Will, but I must've been, all this time. And now it is not random, it is not fate, it is not being swept away.

This is my choice. And I don't know how to stop.

Or even if I want to.

I had everything a woman could want

My husband, James. The house on the lake.

My life. Our perfect life.

And then Alex came to visit.

The first time I saw my husband's best friend, I didn't like him. Didn't like how James changed when he was around, didn't like how his penetrating eyes followed me everywhere.

But that didn't stop me from wanting him. And, surprisingly, James didn't seem to mind.

It was meant to be fun. Something the three of us shared for those hot summer weeks Alex stayed with us. Nobody was supposed to fall in or out of love. I didn't need another man, not even one who oozed sex like honey and knew all the secrets I didn't know, the secrets my husband hadn't shared. After all, we had a perfect life.

And I loved my husband.

But I wasn't the only one.

Tesla Martin is drifting pleasantly through life, slinging lattes at Morningstar Mocha, enjoying the ebb and flow of caffeine–starved customers, devoted to her cadre of regulars. But none of the bottomless–cup crowd compares with Meredith, a charismatic force of nature who can coax intimate tales from even the shyest of Morningstar's clientele.

Caught in Meredith's sensual, irresistible orbit, inexpressibly flattered by the siren's attention, Tesla shares long–buried chapters of her life, holding nothing back. Nothing Meredith proposes seems impossible–not even Tesla sleeping with Meredith's husband, Charlie, while she looks on. After all, it's all in fun, isn't it?

In a heartbeat, vulnerable Tesla is swept into a spectacular love triangle. Together, gentle, grounded Charlie and sparkling, maddening Meredith are everything Tesla has ever needed, wanted, or dreamed of, even if no one else on earth understands. They're three against the world.

But soon one of the vertices begins pulling away until only two points remain–and the space between them gapes with confusion, with grief and with possibility….

This is what happened

I met him at the candy store.

He turned and smiled at me and I was surprised enough to smile back. This was not a children's candy store, mind you; this was the kind of place you went to buy expensive imported chocolate truffles for your boss's wife because you felt guilty for having sex with him when you were both at a conference in Milwaukee.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

I've been hit on plenty of times, mostly by men with little finesse who thought what was between their legs made up for what they lacked between their ears.

Sometimes I went home with them anyway, just because it felt good to want and be wanted, even if it was mostly fake.

The problem with wanting is that it's like pouring water into a vase full of stones. It fills you up before you know it, leaving no room for anything else. I don't apologize for who I am or what I've done in; or out; of bed.

I have my job, my house and my life, and for a long time I haven't wanted anything else.

Until Dan. Until now.