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UNBOXED contains the following full length novels:
UNDECLARED, UNSPOKEN, UNRAVELED, and UNREQUITED.
This USA Today Bestselling Series is a four-book box set
with bonus content.
**Limited
Time Only**
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Blurb
       
UNBOXED contains the
following full length novels: UNDECLARED, UNSPOKEN, UNRAVELED, and UNREQUITED.
       
 
       
UNDECLARED
       
 
       
For four years, Grace
Sullivan wrote to a Marine she never met, and fell in love. But when his
deployment ended, so did the letters…Noah has always known exactly what he
wants out of life. Success. Stability. Control. That’s why he joined the
Marines and that’s why he’s fighting his way — literally — through college. Now
that he’s got the rest of his life on track, he has one last conquest: Grace
Sullivan. But since he was the one who stopped writing, he knows that winning
her back will be his biggest battle yet.
       
 
       
UNSPOKEN
       
 
       
AnnMarie Sullivan made one
mistake in her freshman year and her entire college existence became tainted by
it. Guys labeled her as easy and girls shied away. To cope, AnnMarie stayed
away from Central social life and away from Central men until Bo Randolph
storms into her life. Bo allows instinct to rule his behavior. If it feels
good, do it, has been his motto. AnnMarie is everything he didn’t realize he
wanted. He knows he should walk away, but he just can’t.
       
 
       
UNRAVELED
       
 
       
Twenty-five-year-old Sgt.
Gray Phillips is at a crossroads in his life: stay in the Marine Corps or get
out and learn to be a civilian? He’s got forty-five days of leave to make up
his mind but the people in his life aren’t making the decision any easier. His
dad wants him to get out; his grandfather wants him to stay in. And his growing
feelings for Sam Anderson are wreaking havoc with his heart…and his mind. He
believes relationships get ruined when a Marine goes on deployment. So now he’s
got an even harder decision to make: take a chance on Sam or leave love behind
and give his all to the Marines.
       
 
       
UNREQUITED
       
 
       
Winter Donovan loves two
things: her sister and her sister’s ex boyfriend. She’s spent her whole life
doing the right thing except that one time, that night when Finn O’Malley
looked hollowed out by his father’s death. Then she did something very wrong
that felt terribly right. Finn can’t stop thinking about Winter and the night
and he’ll do anything to make her a permanent part of his life, even if it
means separating Winter from the only family she has. Their love was supposed
to be unrequited but one grief stricken guy and one girl with too big of a
heart results in disastrous consequences.
       
 
       
**Also includes the bonus
epilogue for UNSPOKEN along with a preview of THE CHARLOTTE CHRONICLES—a spin
off of the Woodlands series.
       
 
       
Excerpt #Undeclared
Dear Grace,
My biggest fear, huh? I don’t think I ever told you about my
recruitment experience, did I? So the AF reps show up at high school on career
day. Bo had skipped and gone somewhere to drink the day away. Lucky bastard. I
would’ve cut class that day, too, but I had too many skips and was warned that
if I had any more, they would withhold my diploma and make me go to summer
school. That wasn’t going to happen.
Anyway, I end up talking with the Army and Marine
recruiters. Their spiels are pretty similar. They ask me about my interests,
and I tell them getting the hell out of Nowheresville is my priority. The
Marine recruiter nods and says he felt the same way. He tells me I can earn
money, get my college paid for, and make a lot of friends. The first one sounds
interesting, the second intriguing, the third I could care less about. Turns
out the last one is actually the biggest benefit of joining.
Later, the recruiter follows up with me.  Gives me a huge laundry list of awesome
things about joining. I tell him he doesn’t have to sell me anymore, that I’m
ready to sign. Only I’m debating between the Marines and the Army. Then I make
my biggest mistake ever. I admit that I’m not a fan of water. The Marine
recruiter laughs and says, “You’ll be infantry, son,” and I sign.
When I get to boot camp they tell me the Marines are a
branch of the Navy. The Navy, Grace. The Marine recruiter must have noted that
I had an aversion to water, because every punishment I ever received was
water-related.
The moral of this story is that I can’t go around telling
people my greatest fear, because someone will use it against me. It ain’t water
anymore.
~Noah
__
Dear Grace,
I think what you feel on my letters is dust. I’m bummed that
it is on my letters to you. They say it’s sand, but it’s finer than that. It’s
like the particles that make up the sand, and it is everywhere. When you get
home on leave and wash for the first time, you have to stand under the water
for at least twenty minutes, all the while watching the black dust collect and
pool at your feet, creating coffee-colored water that swirls down the drain.
I don’t think you can ever fully erase the dust from your
belongings. It sticks with you no matter how long you let the water wash over
you or how many times you wipe it away. Like the tension I have in being
weaponless and exposed back home, the dust is one of the many things I’ll carry
with me when I’m out.
I’m sorry that it is invading your space now through my
letters. It’s like I’m spreading a contaminant. Am I Patient Zero, or are you?
I probably shouldn’t have volunteered for a third tour, but
combat pay is hard to turn down. After three years here, though, I feel like I
am a loosely contained conglomerate of those particles of dust.
Yours,
Noah
Excerpt: #Unspoken
“I heard you drove over to the TKE house and played ‘If You
Love Me’ on a loop from your convertible until the sorority girl came out, with
her white dress billowing behind her. Maybe there was a glass slipper left on
the stairs. I can’t remember.”
Bo was laughing at this. “First, I don’t have a convertible
and wow, I sound like a total douche bag. How is this rumor helping my
reputation?”
“It’s not a douche bag move.” I took a sip of my coffee.
“It’s totally a Lloyd Dobbler, Say Anything move. John Hughes could have
scripted that.”
“John Hughes?”
“You know, the moviemaker from the eighties.”
“You weren’t born in the eighties.”
“They’re still teen movies!”
“If I say you’re hot when you’re angry, will you hit me?”
I motioned that I would throw the cup of coffee in his face,
which only made Bo laugh more.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. Tell me why this is appealing, because
it sounds kind of pathetic to me.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Say Anything.” I shook my
head in disbelief.
“I’m pretty sure I was too busy killing people in Call of
Duty to watch that movie.”
“In Say Anything, Lloyd Dobbler stands outside his love’s
window and holds up a boombox that’s playing their song. In the rain. It’s very
romantic.” I held up my arms to mimic the gesture.
He looked at me skeptically.
“It’s a sign of his true love,” I argued.
“I think true love is signified by more than some dippy guy
standing outside in the rain playing music for a girl.”
“What’s an act of true love, then?”
“Throwing your body on a grenade so your buddies don’t
become pieces of shrapnelized flesh.”
“My God, did you do that in the war?” I was shocked. I’d
seen Bo without his shirt on and didn’t recall seeing any marks. Maybe I’d been
blind? I shuddered at the thought of him being hurt.
“No,” he sighed, “but I know a guy in a different unit that
did.”
“Okay, but that’s not something you could do for a girl
here.” I frowned.
“True love means that you’d be willing to sacrifice all for
another person.” That was pretty profound. Bo believed that?
“So maybe Lloyd was sacrificing his ego for Dianne in the
movie,” I countered.
“Possibly. Still seems like a passive, weak-ass move.” Bo
rubbed a finger across his chin and relaxed back in his chair.
“What should he have done?”
“To express his love?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, leaning toward him. My hands were
planted on my legs and I felt poised to jump him, either in frustration or
desire.
“Actions speak louder than words. Or singing, as the case
may be.”
“He was out there, in the rain.”
“But he wasn’t doing anything. You show a woman you love her
by what you do for her, from opening her door to making sure that bumps in the
road of life are smoothed out. That she wants and worries for nothing. That
when you think about sex, it’s her face in your fantasies, her body you’re
touching, her lips you’re kissing. That every day you remind her that she’s the
first thought in your mind when you wake up and the last thought before you
drop off to sleep.”
Excerpt:  #Unraveled
“I’m going to kiss you now.” His voice was deep and rough,
and it matched the rest of his thoroughly masculine body.
“I know,” I whispered back. And I wanted that kiss from
Gray, even though he ordinarily wouldn’t be my type at all. I wanted it more
than I wanted to breathe. When his mouth molded against mine, it felt like
bliss—as if my whole cold body had been submerged into a warm bath. If I
thought I had been engulfed before it was nothing like I felt at that moment.
My entire world—my thoughts, my feelings, my senses—were full of him. I tasted
the mint and hops on his tongue. I inhaled the scents of cinnamon and bergamot
and ocean of his faint cologne into my airways. I felt the calloused palm on my
waist and then lower against the exposed skin of my thigh. His dense muscles
were drawn tight under his skin and the fabric of his t-shirt and he felt as
strong as a citadel. The moan that had been building since he first backed me
into the wall escaped. It had been so long since I’d had the touch of a man’s
hand on any part of me, and I nearly wept at the pleasure of it.
Every square inch of my body felt sensitized, as if I’d been
an unlit Christmas tree and I’d just been plugged in. I wanted to feel his
hands all over, not just on that patch of thigh. I needed his touch in those
secret places, those places I thought had calcified. I’d thought I’d been
waiting for the smooth hands of an accountant but the longer, rougher fingers
pushing the hem of my shorts up couldn’t belong to a man who worked in an
office.
His tongue and mouth broke from mine to leave a hot, wet
path from my mouth, across my jaw line, and down to my neck. My leg lifted of
its own accord and he took it as a sign to hitch me up higher until both my
legs either dangled off the floor or wrapped around him. I chose to wrap my
legs around him and was rewarded with a thick hard column pressing into my sex.
We both groaned at the contact and I could feel his sound against my neck. The
reverberations sent minor shocks throughout my nervous system. Holding me up
against the wall, he began thrusting against me rhythmically, every impact of
his hips making me hotter and wetter than I thought I could get.
I gripped him tighter with my legs and dug my hands into his
hair, using every bit of his body as leverage. He held me up with ease, as if I
were a feather. One hand was under my right butt cheek and the other was
exploring my left side, pulling out my T-shirt, only to find the tank
underneath. Needing his mouth back, I tugged on his hair and he took the hint
immediately. He fastened his lips over mine and we devoured each other, still
rubbing our lower bodies against each other as the bass from the dance floor
pounded the floor boards.
Whimpering, I begged in moans and small cries for more. A
familiar but almost forgotten tension was winding its way from between my legs
outward. All thoughts of storage rooms and hallways and strangers were lost in
the swirl of bright lights bursting behind my eyelids.
“I got you, baby,” he growled against my mouth. “Just let
go.” And so I did. I closed my eyes and let those long-dormant feelings wash
over me, spreading from the inside of my legs to the nerve endings in my toes
and fingertips and the very top of my head. And he kept grinding and grinding
and grinding against me, whispering in my ear how I was the hottest thing he’d
ever held, how he couldn’t wait to taste me, how he’d die if he couldn’t be
inside me tonight.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jen Frederick
Jen Frederick lives with her husband,
child, and one rambunctious dog.  She’s
been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own.
Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at [email protected].

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