Torque, Gillian Archer [top ten books of all time TXT] 📗

you so fucking much.”

“Love you too.” I kissed him again. “But uh, you know what this means, don’t you?”

“That we’re not Romeo and Juliet?”

“Of course. But also, you’re going to need to rent another moving truck.”

“Should’ve just unloaded all your shit here to start with.”

“Aww.” I grinned up at him mockingly. “There’s all the romance that a girl dreams of hearing.”

“I’ll show you romance.” Nathan growled.

I squealed and tried to wiggle away. But I didn’t try hard.

We both knew I was exactly where I wanted to be.

The End

Acknowledgments

First, I have to thank you, the readers! I don’t have a job without you! I love hearing from you, how excited you are to read my books, and your eagerness for certain characters’ stories. You guys make my day with every email, FB message, and DM! You’re the reason why I do this! Thank you!

To my awesome husband, Dave—Thank you for making my writing a priority. I love you and all the wonderful things you do for me—like wrangling the tiny human and her minion puppy away from my office.

To my kickass crit partner, Amy Isaman—Thank you for all the thoughtful feedback over the phone since the world went insane and we couldn’t meet in person! You always keep me on track and true to my characters. And kick my ass to keep me motivated when I’m struggling. I hope I’m doing my share to keep you on track too.

To Dawn Mangum who was super quick and so thorough with her ninja proofreading skills. Thank you! I am totally buying you lunch next time I’m in town!

To all my amazing author friends! Sasha Devlin, I’m so glad we still talk after all the years and craziness. You have always been the sympathetic ear I’ve needed when I was feeling down. I’d have a lot fewer books published without you in my life! And Stina Lindenblatt. You have been so awesome sharing all your self-published knowledge with me. You’ve given me so much with your friendship—I hope it’s been at least somewhat reciprocated! And Dayna Hart. You were so awesome with your edits! I loved and agreed with all your notes. Thanks for all your hard work!

Also By Gillian Archer

Burns Brothers Series

Build

Fast

Spark

Torque

HRH Series

Reluctantly Royal

True Brothers MC Series

Ruthless

Rebellious

Resilient

Rough Ride

Pleasure Code Series

Wicked Weekend- Temporarily out of print

Up In Knots

Bio

GILLIAN ARCHER has a bachelor’s degree in mining engineering but prefers to spend her time on happily ever after. She writes the kind of stories she loves to read—the hotter the better! When she’s not pounding away on the keyboard, she can be found chasing her little girl, or surfing the couch while indulging in her latest reality TV fixation, or reading awesome romance ebooks by her favorite authors. Gillian Archer lives in the wilds of Nevada with her amazing husband, gorgeous little girl, and goofy dog.

gillianarcher.com

GilliArcher@gmail.com

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In case you missed it, read on for an excerpt of

Reluctantly Royal

HRH Series, #1

Out now!

Order your copy here.

Reluctantly Royal Chapter 1

HRH Prince Lucien Alexandre Beauregard Mathieu GreinerLe Palais PrincierMonaco

I couldn’t recall a time when my brother had summoned me to dinner at the palace with good news. I was doubtful that tonight would be any different.

The fact that he wanted to meet me in the York Room was enough to make my blood run cold. I think I could count the number of times I’d been in that room—all during official functions as a Prince of Monaco—photo ops mostly, when first mon Père and then my brother signed important legislation. The fact that my own brother, the Sovereign Prince, was treating me so formally did not bode well for my evening.

I searched my brain for anything I might’ve done lately that His Royal Highness the Sovereign Prince of Monaco would’ve considered scandalous, but I couldn’t think of a thing. I’d been a good little prince for a change. Although if I was being called to the carpet, I would rather have done something worthwhile to earn it.

As I passed through the Mirror Gallery, I remembered all the times I played in here with my twin brother, Julien, when we were little. The dramatic aesthetic effect of the succeeding mirrors made the room look like a long series of rooms, and at the time each had a pair of identical little boys running around. Mum would pretend to get confused by all the boys in the “fake rooms” and we’d all giggle until we were gasping for air.

Of course, that was after our older brother, Bastien, had been sent to boarding school at Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland. Until then, he’d been the leader of our motley crew. Older by two years, Bastien had been the one to instigate most of our hijinks—which was probably why mon Père had shipped him off so young. The person who came back on holiday breaks was not my brother. Bastien had become a pod-person replica of our father, all perfect posture and diction, no longer interested in roughhousing with me and Julien. Childhood over at the age of ten.

Fucking depressing.

Not that mine was much better, but at least Julien and I got to escape to Eton College in Great Britain together, and at the ripe old age of thirteen. I don’t think I would’ve survived those years away from home without Julien.

I had no choice but to survive without him now. My eyes burned at the reminder.

I left the Mirror Gallery, quickly passed through the Red Room, then nodded to the silent servant who pulled open the door to the York Room. Empty. Leave it to His Royal Highness the Sovereign Prince to keep me waiting.

My eyes immediately went to the marble table in the center of the room, where important documents were signed. I wasn’t sure how to feel when I saw it empty. At least if there were papers there, I’d have a clue about what this evening