-The Romance Reviews
"Full of humor, action yummy sex … perhaps my favorite in the series. Gave me a whole roller coaster of emotions."
-Riverina Romantics
HOT FOR HIS HOSTAGE
The W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces, Book 6
"Anyone who likes a good action novel, mystery and/or romance will find the story interesting and well-written. The love story is touching, realistic, heart-warming and very hot. With just the right amount of conflict between the main characters, the story builds tension without overdoing angst."
-My Book Addiction Reviews
"So many OMG moments! This book does not disappoint!"
-Twinsie Talk Reviews
"The heat factor is sizzling and blends well with a storyline filled with adventure."
-The Romance Reviews
"The details in the story really make a reader feel like they are part of the action."
-Illustrious Illusions
A WILDER KIND OF LOVE
The W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces, Book 7
"5 smoldering, seductive stars. Oh My Gahhh. Even though this is book 7 in the Wild Boys series, it is my first book by Angel Payne, and I see what I've been missing! Aside from the excellent writing, excellent editing, ease of reading and all around fabulous story … the characters have me frantic. Dan is such a complex character … and Tess, wow, how she desired him from afar, being nothing more than co-workers, and then coming to bat for him after his "accident" and helping him recuperate in the hospital. This is a tale of desire, a body's need for Dominance/submission, and how not following your soul's desire for honesty could mush up a great thing."
-Rachel Bound by Books
"Ms. Payne has really outdone herself with this couple. They were perfect for each other and brought out the best in each other. Their sexual chemistry was off the charts. Since Ms. Payne's writing just keeps getting better and better, I know that there will be some amazing books for me to read."
-Sizzling Hot Books
"A beautiful story about a disfigured person who is beautiful in the inside and a woman who knows what she wants and willing to do anything to get it. They both complete each other. Their story was definitely worth reading."
-Books Eater Blog
"If you are looking for a hot read and a walk on the darker side of the BDSM world is OK with you, definitely check out A WILDer Kind of Love. The familiar faces from the previous books in the series are present in varying degrees, but this story can absolutely be read as a standalone."
-Oh, My Growing TBR Blog
"5 Stars! A lot of heat … Tess was a real surprise to me. Her strength and drive to change her life are what brings Dan out of his dark world and into the light with her."
-Smut & Bonbons
"OMG, what a book! I have waited for Dan Colton's story. This author pours her heart and soul into her books. You can just feel it."
-Kimmie Sue's Book Reviews
Chapter One
‡
Time had dictated a lot of Brynn Monet's life. Watching it, abiding by it, dancing to it … and praying to it for better things to come.
This was one of the prayer moments.
Lots of prayer.
No one confirmed that point better than Shay Bommer, the husband of Brynn's best friend Zoe, as he drove a fist into the living room wall of the Las Vegas suburban home he shared with Zoe.
But Zoe wasn't here right now.
The emptiness was symbolized to sickening perfection by the crater left behind as Shay stepped back, snarling at everyone in the room like a cornered animal. It took a while. It was a full house tonight with eight other people in the room, five of them legitimately qualifying as humanized Mack trucks. The men had dropped everything to fly here for the guy who'd once served side-by-side with them as part of the First Special Forces Group. Brynna stood nervously in an opposite corner with El Browning and Ryder Monroe, the friends she couldn't be without right now.
Shay pulled his fist back, leaving a gaping cavity behind. The hole joined the other two he'd already made. Brynn doubted anyone would blink if he destroyed the whole wall.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking on her own behalf.
Taking out a wall felt like a damn great idea right now.
Even better idea? Obliterating the bastards who'd kidnapped Zoe six hours ago.
"Shay." The word, hammered with command, was issued by the pirate hunk who stalked forward. Though Rebel Stafford didn't have an eye patch or a peg leg, the comparison fit in every other way. Those shoulder-length waves of jet-black hair. Those eyes, shot with Caribbean blue specks. That accent, laced with earthy Creole. Those tattoos covering both arms-or so she assumed. The form-fitting T-shirt he wore over his camouflage pants prevented final confirmation-not that her mind's eye hadn't already re-outfitted him in breeches, riding boots, a tricorn, and nothing else.
No time for the rest of that vision. Brynn would have been thankful for it too, if the reason was anything other than this.
Dear God. Why Zoe? Anyone but Zoe.
Except that no one but Zoe made sense.
A truth that ravaged every inch of Shay Bommer's face.
"What?" The man spun and glared at Rebel. "What? Have you come bearing any useful information about where the fuck my eight-months-pregnant wife is, Reb? If you haven't, then get the hell out of my sight."
A pulse ticked in Rebel's stubbled jaw. If she blinked she would've missed it, so formidable was the man's self-control. "Can't do that, man, and you know why."
"Fuck off."
"Not happening. You know I need to run through the details with you again."
Shay slumped against the wall. Brynn's heart broke for him. In this case, "the details" only meant one thing: the horrific sequence of events between his wife's bathroom break during their dinner date, and the moment she'd screamed before being shoved into the back of a black van at the restaurant's back door. Shay had sprung to his feet, bursting into the alley in time to notice only two things about the van before it sped away. One, it had no plates of any kind. Two, the driver maneuvered the bulky thing like a seasoned pro.
"Damn it." Shay exposed locked teeth. "I've told you everything I know!"
"I know." Rebel squared his shoulders. "But I need you to sit down, take a shitload of deep breaths then tell me again. I need everything you can possibly remember."
Shay dropped his head. Dragged both hands through his thick chestnut hair, choking back a broken breath. "I … can't."
"Yes, you can. We need more to go on. Something. Anything."
By "we," Rebel included the guy right behind him, whom he was rarely seen without. Rhett Lange, call-sign Double-Oh, served as their battalion's tech and covert identity specialist on all missions-the fancy way of saying that on the team's most dangerous missions, his dependability was key. Nobody knew that more clearly than Rebel, who as the "blow-shit-up guy", needed rock-solid intel at every turn of an op.
Brynn jerked her head, forcing the tangent away. Why the hell did she know all of that? Even worse, that it gave her the same adrenalin kick as her Teen Scene centerfolds wall from high school? Even right now. Especially right now.
Focus, Monet. Focus on what you can do to help. Zo wasn't just your dance captain for three years. She was your rock through all the shitty times-and the days that were worse than that. You have to be there for her now. You have do to something.
Another silent but desperate plea. She was going not-so-slowly insane, sitting here in helpless dread and disbelief-
A feeling she was no stranger to.
Good afternoon, Brynna. I'm Officer Feld and this is Officer Smythe, Vegas PD. Sorry to pull you out of rehearsal, but I'm afraid we have some bad news. It's about your sister, Enya …
She was saved from the memory in the nick of time-by the man who stepped up and pulled her back to safety-mentally, at least. Rhett Lange's effect on her body wasn't so simple. The man matched his friend for sheer physical potency-with one difference. He wasn't a pirate. No other comparison worked for Rhett but Viking. Though no wild hair tumbled to his shoulders, the red tips of his short blonde spikes lent the Icelandic flair. His eyes, the color of North Sea depths, were bracketed by rugged creases that deepened as he focused on Shay.
"Reb's straight up on this, Bommer. I can't do a thing with what you've given me. Think. You've been trained to do this. Close your eyes. Focus. Can you at least tell me which way the van turned at the end of the alley?"
Shay slid down the wall, thunked to his backside, and buried his head in his hands. "You mean as I watched them drive away with my helpless, screaming wife?"