Summary from Goodreads:
Serena knows a few simple things. She will always be owned by a warlock. She will never have freedom. She will always do what her warlock wishes, regardless of how inane, frivolous, or cruel it is. And if she doesn’t follow the rules, she will be tarnished. Spelled to be bald, inked, and barren for the rest of her life—worth less than the shadow she casts.
Then her ownership is won by a barbarian from another country. With the uncertainty that comes from belonging to a new warlock, Serena questions if being tarnished is really worse than being owned by a barbarian, and tempts fate by breaking the rules. When he looks the other way instead of punishing her, she discovers a new world. The more she ventures into the forbidden, the more she learns of love and a freedom just out of reach. Serena longs for both. But in a society where women are only ever property, hoping for more could be deadly.
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“I was blown away by the beautiful writing, haunting themes, and chilling visuals.” ~Becca at Nawanda Files
“There were times when I had to fight back my tears and the emotion that this book drew from me made me feel so connected to what was going on as if I was actually there. You Are Mine should be on everyones to-read list and I cannot wait to see what Janeal Falor comes up with next.” ~Danielle at Coffee and Characters
“May I kiss you now?”
No. Kisses leave me feeling sick. “I suppose it would be for the best.”
He leans closer. I want to pull away. Thomas’s kisses were callous. Painful even. The thought of more of that makes me feel queasy. But giving my permission somehow makes it harder to pull away.
His hand reaches up and brushes my face. Flecks of gold are mixed with the green of his eyes. Suddenly, he scoops me into his arms and plops me on his lap. I yelp.
“Sorry, I guess I should have warned you first.”
After straightening my skirt with quivering fingers, I hold myself stiff. His nose nuzzles against the side of my neck. Warm lips brush my jaw and sweep along my cheek until they reach the corner of my mouth. My breath comes in shallow gasps. He smells lightly of citrus.
I don’t move. His fingers tangle in my hair. His lips hover over mine. A nervous flutter grows in my chest. The creak of the door opening spurs him into action.
His lips touch mine. Flowing and sunny. They grow firmer. It feels so much better than I thought it could. His fingers run through my hair, the tendrils falling out of their confinement. Heat grows between us. He pulls me closer to him. Not only do I manage to refrain from fighting him, but I want to draw even closer.
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Janeal Falor lives in Utah where she’s finally managed to live in the same house for more than five years without moving. In her spare time she reads books like they’re nuts covered in caramel and chocolate, cooks whatever strikes her fancy, and enjoys the outdoors. Her husband and three children try to keep up with her overactive imagination. Usually they settle for having dinner on the table, even if she’s still going on about the voices in her head.