🎉 Release Day Is Here! 🎉 Wicked Games Is Live!

Today’s the day. Wicked Games is officially out in the world, and I couldn’t be more excited to finally share it with you. This book has been living in my head—and my heart—for over four years. That's a long time for you to wait--sorry about that. But the muse works in mysterious ways--sometimes, not at all.

This book has been living in my head for nearly five years. That’s a long time for you to wait, but my muse works in mysterious ways. Sometimes—on certain books, in certain genres—not at all. Sorry about that. But it’s finally here.

Wicked Games is a story of dangerous truths and blurred lines. Of grief that never quite loosens its grip, and love that refuses to stay buried. Of control born from fear—and the temptation to surrender it to the one person strong enough to break through every defense. It’s about the lies we tell ourselves to survive…and what happens when the truth demands everything.

If you love:

• undercover romance

• high-stakes tension

• morally gray heroes

• strong heroines who refuse to stay safe

• and chemistry that crackles

…this one is for you.

To celebrate release day, I wanted to share a spicy excerpt—a moment where the rules are already slipping, and neither of them is quite ready to admit it.

🔥 Exclusive Excerpt from Wicked Games

Fresh from a shower and wrapped in the ice-blue satin kimono she’d bought herself last Christmas—her only gift—Emily sat on the edge of her bed, working lotion into the burning soles of her feet. Not yet thirty, she suspected waiting tables and her chosen career would leave her with a lifetime of sore arches and knotted calves. Neither waitresses nor chefs got to sit much, and her body already bore the proof of that.

Once she was all slicked up, she balanced on the sides of her feet, slipped out of her robe, and—in a camisole and boy shorts—pulled back the covers. It was Sunday. She’d worked the morning shift and, mercifully, had the rest of the day to herself. Studying for an upcoming test could wait. First, a nap. Her one luxury.

To avoid sleeping the day away—which was entirely possible after the week she’d had—she set an alarm.

With her blinds closed and the apartment silent, she had a knee on the mattress, about to climb in when the doorbell rang. Emily dropped face-first into her pillow, not sure whether to scream, curse, or cry.

Maybe if she’d ignore it, whoever it was would go away.

When the ringing stopped and knocking began—sharp and determined—she slipped on her robe again, cinched it tight, slid her feet into fuzzy pink scuffs, and dragged her tired butt to the door to see who it was.

The knocking had turned into impatient thuds by the time she reached the living room. “Okay, okay... I’m coming!” she called.

Through the peephole, she saw only a broad chest and a dark shirt stretched over muscle. She frowned, not expecting anyone—least of all a man. She hadn’t dated in forever.

 Frowning, she asked, “Who is it?”

“Alec.”

She froze. Not even breathing.

What was he doing here? And how had he found her? 

He knocked again, annoyance plain in his voice. “Open up, Em. We need to talk, and I refuse to do it on your doorstep through a locked door.”

Hands trembling, she twisted the lock and dead bolt and pulled open the door. Then, still in shock he was actually standing there, she blurted the world’s most idiotic comment. “I’m on the third floor. I don’t have a doorstep.”

He arched a dark blond brow as if to say: After eight years, this is your greeting? And the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth said he remembered exactly who she was.

She should’ve invited him in but instead, she stood frozen in the doorway.

As a kid, she’d thought the towheaded boy from down the street was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. But the man standing in front of her now was something else entirely. He seemed taller, broader, the kind of solid that came from years on the force. He and Ethan used to work out several times a week, and Alec ran, which explained the faint tan lines beside his still-impossibly blue eyes. A rough shadow of beard framed lips she’d once dreamed of kissing. He looked rugged, confident, even better than she remembered. And she felt her heartbeat stutter.

“Am I allowed to come in?” he asked after a moment, a hint of amusement tugging his lips upward.

“Yes. Sorry,” she said quickly, stepping aside on shaky legs to let him through.

He glanced around, and she saw her shabby apartment through his eyes—one bedroom, one bath, mismatched garage-sale furniture, thrift-store lamps. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. A fortress of scraped-together survival.

“How did you find me? I’m unlisted, and the lease isn’t in my name.”

“Ex-detective. We have our ways.”

“Sounds a little stalker-ish,” she replied then what he said clicked. “Wait. Ex? You left the force?”

He nodded. “A while ago. I’m a private investigator now.”

Relief swelled that he was no longer following the same path as her father and Ethan then it dimmed into something she dared not hope for.

“You act surprised.”

“You always said that being a detective for the Miami PD was your dream job.”

“Dreams change,” he said quietly.

Or life derails them. She knew that better than anyone.

His footsteps thudded on her worn carpet as he approached. “You look good, Em.”

Was he kidding? She had a mirror. The dark circles under her eyes were impossible to miss. Her hair—still damp from her shower—had frizzed into a halo of chaos. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup.

She almost laughed, until she realized he wasn’t looking at her face. Her eyes dropped to her robe, gaping open to reveal her lace-trimmed camisole and a generous hint of cleavage. Heat prickled up her neck.

“You’re thinner than I remember,” he added as she tugged her robe closed. Concern edged his tone.

“Long hours,” she said. “When you’re exhausted, sleep wins over eating.”

He frowned. “It’s noon. Are you just getting up?”

“Just going to bed for a nap. Working the breakfast shift means I’m up before sunrise.”

“You work that in addition to the evening banquets?” His frown sharpened. Her knight of old, protective and irritated on her behalf.

“I do what I have to,” she replied. Then, softer and less defensive, “Why are you here, Alec?”

He sat without asking and tugged her down beside him. His hand closed around hers, and he said in a tone that brooked no argument, “We need to clear the air.”

“After eight years?” Her voice cracked.

“Whose fault is that?” he countered. “It’s not easy having it out with someone you can’t find—no social media, no credit trail, sublets under someone else’s name, switching phone numbers like socks, and has a PO box for a return address.”

“Alec…” she whispered, trying to pull away. He held firm, refusing to budge.

“You disappeared on me,” he said quietly, but she could hear the accusing undertone and understood the wound she’d dealt.

Emily stared down at her lap, his hand still wrapped around hers, and the words spilled out. “When Mom and Dad were killed, everything I knew fell apart. But I had Ethan.” She blinked hard, trying to suppress the tears—she’d cried buckets of them—but one escaped anyway. “Then he was gone, and I unraveled.”

“You were grieving.” His thumb brushed her knuckles—steady, reassuring.

“So were you! You lost your best friend.” Another tear tracked down her cheek. “You deserved comfort and support, but you had to be strong for me. I’m sorry I didn’t make it easier.”

“Em—”

“No, let me finish,” she insisted, sniffling. “During those long, awful days, I kept thinking—what if they knocked on my door and said it was you? There’d be no one left to pick up the pieces. It was completely selfish, but I was nineteen. I panicked and ran because”—her voice broke, and she had to swallow to continue—“I didn’t think I could survive losing you, too.”

“Your logic was flawed,” he murmured, cupping her damp cheek. “By shutting me out all this time, didn’t you lose me anyway?” His thumb stroked gently—no anger, just truth.

She couldn’t argue and didn’t try. A tear splashed onto her hand, another onto his. Then—without conscious thought—she was in his lap, wrapped in his arms. His embrace, solid and familiar, held the rightness of a place she hadn’t visited in years but still knew by heart. She hadn’t meant to fall apart, but she turned toward him, clutching his shoulders as the dam gave way.

He rocked her gently, murmuring into her hair, soft soothing nonsense.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. Time blurred.

When her tears slowed and the hiccups faded, he eased away just enough to see her face, offering a gentle smile, but his eyes were wary, as if he expected her to fall apart again. “Baby,” he said softly, “you’re a mess.”

“I’m an ugly crier. Always have been.” She swiped her cheeks and nose with her sleeve, but satin made a lousy Kleenex, smearing tears instead of drying them. 

“There’s nothing about you that isn’t beautiful.” He came to her rescue, dabbing her face with the hem of his T-shirt despite her weak protests. “That was a monsoon of tears. Feel better?”

She sniffled and let out a hitching laugh. “I guess that’s one thing that hasn’t changed.”

“What’s that?”

“Me. Basket case Emily.” Her sad attempt at a joke fell flat.

“You feel deeply. Nothing wrong with that.” His tone shifted, becoming firm though not unkind. “What’s wrong is ghosting someone who loves you.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest. She dared to hope. But after what she’d done, didn’t believe it possible. “Do you still?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Of course, I do.” Both his hands framed her face, thumbs stroking gently. “We meant something to each other. I miss you. I want you in my life.”

His honesty hit harder than any reprimand.

“I miss you too. But I’m scared.”

“I know.” He rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling with hers. “But running and hiding isn’t living. There are no guarantees. It sucks, but we go on, trying to live life to the fullest—one day at a time.” He glanced around at her shabby-chic, garage-sale décor. “Don’t take this wrong, sweetheart, but this isn’t anywhere near the fullest.”

She shifted, looking anywhere but at him. Embarrassed, because it was true, but stubbornly defensive, because that was all she had. “I do okay.”

“By okay, do you mean working two jobs and barely scraping by?” Alec’s phone dinged. He dug it out of his back pocket and frowned at the screen. “I’ve got a case this afternoon, and you need to get some sleep. How about we continue this over dinner?”

She hesitated.

“You’re not working, are you?”

It was the perfect excuse. She didn’t take it, though. She’d be lying to him and herself. All the years she’d shut him, and pretty much everyone else, out hadn’t brought comfort, just loneliness. Now, with Alec close enough to touch, to breath in, even with the awkwardness, she wanted to reach for a sliver of happiness she’d once run from.

He used his shirt again and wiped away the remnants of tears. He wouldn’t let her look away. Her shield and her undoing, all at once.

“This isn’t the life you dreamed of. I’m not living mine either. Not once did I imagine a future that didn’t include you.”

“Alec,” she breathed, heart aching and full at the same time.

He squeezed her hands. “Let’s start over. Dinner tonight is a good place to begin.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding, before fear could claw its way in again.

He grinned—dazzling white, confident, completely Alec. “That’s my girl. There’s just one last piece of business before I go.”

Want to know what that “last piece of business” is?

👉 Wicked Games is available now in Kindle Unlimited and ebook.

👉 Grab your copy here: https://amzn.to/3LBRUym or here: https://geni.us/WickedGames1

If you read it Wicked Games, I’d love to hear what you think—reviews and messages mean more than you know, especially on release week.

What's Next in the Dark Refuge series?

Wicked Games is just one story in the world of Devil’s Pointe, where each book features a new couple, familiar faces return, and every romance comes with a fresh dose of danger.

If you’re already looking ahead:

• What Lies Between Us, Book 3 is available for preorder now - https://amzn.to/4bnewgs

• Book 4 is currently in progress and slated for a May 2026 release

New couples. New secrets. New risks. The world keeps expanding—and the stakes only get higher.

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Thank you for being here, for reading my stories, and for stepping into danger with me once again.

Happy reading, Maddie T 💜

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