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      MAISEY YATES knew she wanted to be a writer even before she knew what it was she wanted to write.

      At her very first job she was fortunate enough to meet her very own tall, dark and handsome hero, who happened to be her boss, and promptly married him and started a family. It wasn’t until she was pregnant with her second child that she found her very first Mills & Boon® book in a local charity shop. By the time she’d reached the happily-ever-after, she had fallen in love. She devoured as many as she could get her hands on after that and she knew that these were the books she wanted to write!

      She started submitting and nearly two years later, while pregnant with her third child, she received The Call from her editor. At the age of twenty-three, she sold her first manuscript to Mills & Boon and she was very glad that the good news didn’t send her into labour! She still can’t quite believe she’s blessed enough to see her name on not just any book, but on her favourite books.

      Maisey lives with her supportive, handsome, wonderful, nappy-changing husband and three small children across the street from her parents and the home she grew up in, in the wilds of southern Oregon. She enjoys the contrast of living in a place where you might wake up to find a bear on your back porch, then walk into the home office to write stories that take place in exotic, urban locales.

      ‘Yates’ visually powerful narrative tells a timely, heart-breaking story starring an unforgettable couple.’

       —RT Book Reviews on The Couple Who Fooled the World

      ‘Yates’ tale of loss, pain and love’s salvation is simply incredible.’

       —RT Book Reviews on Heir to a Dark Inheritance

      ‘This enticing storyline keeps pages turning and her words flow; Yates’ hero and heroine entertain with their sarcasm, endear when masks come off and sear with their lovemaking.’

       —RT Book Reviews on His Ring Is Not Enough

      ‘Yates skilfully creates an improbable duo whose cultural and professional differences are no match for love, in a story that is compassionate, heart-breaking and hot.’

       —RT Book Reviews on Heir to a Desert Legacy

      Avenge Me

      Maisey Yates

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

      It was supposed to be an evening of bland conversation. That was what Alex, Hunter and he did every year. Drinks and bland conversation. The kind of conversation that skirted around anything of interest or meaning. That lay thick like graveyard dirt over the skeletons of the past.

      Buried beneath talk of 401(k)s, football statistics and current events. So deep that it was easy to forget they were all dining over a coffin.

      Unfortunately, the letter he had in his hand was the damned shovel.

      It was going to unearth everything. He didn’t think there would be a bland enough topic in existence to ever put the ghosts to rest again.

      Austin looked at the two men sitting across from him. The men he’d once called his best friends. Men who had become little more than distant strangers over the past ten years.

      Hunter was throwing out some sort of B.S. line about how much more action he’d get now that he’d been ousted from the NFL, and Alex was nodding along. All a bunch of shallow nothing, but then, what else would they talk about?

      They were barely acquaintances now. Acquaintances who met every year on the grimmest of anniversaries and never once spoke of why they’d gathered. Acquaintances who could barely look each other in the eye.

      But then, that was what bland conversation did, he supposed. It kept bad memories at bay and old friends at a distance. A distance that wasn’t an accident. Not in the least.

      But they didn’t have time for distance now. Didn’t have time for circular talk that meant less than nothing. Not now. Not when he had the letter burning a hole straight through to his skin.

      Austin reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and ran his fingers over the folded document. He pulled it out and put it on the table, white paper blending into the pristine white cloth.

      Strange. He’d half expected it to leave a crimson stain.

      “I’m afraid the usual dinner of denial and quiet regret will not be served tonight,” he said.

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