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Holy Royal Release, Batman!

If you like...

Characters bickering over email, "Oh-no-it’s-raining” moments, and....

British accents (and let's face it, what's not to love about that?),

Then you’ll be completely enamored with HEIRED LINES by Magan Vernon.


Sometimes, you’ve got to take a job with the devil to pay the bills...

Too bad I learned too late the devil wears Armani, is the most uptight man in the history of history, and I just signed an unbreakable contract shackling me to his pompous royal side for the summer.

But God, he’s got this British accent that makes my panties melt.

Until the words he says catch up with my brain and make me want to throw one of his precious vases at his head.

One minute we’re fighting—and the next—we can't keep our hands off each other. Because somehow, when Mr. Blue Eyes is kissing me, he makes me forget how much he annoys me.

And that starts a whole new level of complications I. Don’t. Need.

Cuz if you dance with the devil, someone’s gonna end up getting burned…


She backed up and I kept treading forward until she hit the wall with nowhere else to go. She closed her eyes, both hands in the water, slapping at the waves so little liquid pellets rained down on us.

I laughed, for what was like the first time in forever. A lightness took over my chest as I pushed forward, grabbing her wrists and holding them to me.

She slowly opened her eyes as her body wriggled against mine.

Through her hooded lashes, something else was brimming in those gorgeous brown eyes. Something unspoken between the heavy breaths that floated in the air.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you really laugh.”

I shook my head, my heart beating so wildly in my chest, she had to feel it. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

I licked my lips, my heart and other parts of my body beating, coming alive. As I leaned in slowly, her eyes fluttered closed.

One more breath and I could crash my lips to hers.

One more moment and that mouth would be mine.

“Lord Gavin!” The bellow of my property manager, Alfie’s, voice, echoed through the room.


Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch. Find her online at



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