Lola + Oliver illustrations!

Hello our darlings!

We were so thrilled that Book Riot wanted to share some of the illustrations that we commissioned for Dark Wild Night! If you haven’t yet read book three of the Wild Seasons series, it is about comic book store owner Oliver Lore, and comic book creator Lola Castle, and their friends-to-lovers story that has slowly built over the first two books of the series, Sweet Filthy Boy and Dirty Rowdy Thing.

If you have read Dark Wild Night and wondered what Lola was seeing when she thought, The panel shows the girl . . . then you know this story lends itself so well to some visual artwork. We contacted Caroline Layne because we loved her tumblr, and asked if she would be willing to collaborate. She was, and oh man, we are so glad for it! Her drawings were simply stunning!

Below, we are sharing them, along with the excerpts from the book from which the drawings were created. We are simply in love. If you are, too, share this post on Twitter or Facebook, and we will pick TWENTY people to win signed copies of one of the illustrations. Five winners will ALSO receive a signed copy of Dark Wild Night along with their illustration!

(Note: you can click the images to make them bigger)


Beating Organ

And now it’s weird. I made it weird, but when I think about it, it’s been weird all morning. I took a leap and crossed an invisible line last night at his place. I exposed the farce of this Just Friends business, at least my end of it. Just friends works as long as everyone is on the level. As soon as it’s clear one person wants more, the entire house of cards crumples.

Saying I wanted to draw him a few days ago . . . last night, with the spooning and the hand-petting, and now here with the knowledge about his former sex life when he and I never talk about those things . . . I’ve probably knocked down the entire carefully constructed fortress and doused it with gasoline.

I walk over to him, lightly punching his shoulder. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I just opened my mouth and dropped a whole lot of awkward on this moment.”

He doesn’t look at me. “S’okay. I just don’t want you to think . . .”

“Yeah, I know,” I say when he trails off. I get it. He doesn’t want me to think about him like that.

The panel shows the girl, staring down at the beating organ in her hands.



Licking blue flames

His mouth is half unsure smile, half straight line. I want to spend a year drawing the exact shape of his lips in this moment. “I really don’t mind,” he says quietly.

The devil on my shoulder tells me, Do it. Do it. Your geometric style never works with drawing legs. This would help.

The angel just shrugs and looks away.

“If you’re sure,” I say, and then clear my throat, explaining:

“You know I’m really bad at drawing legs and . . .”

He’s already unbuttoning his pants, hands working the soft denim, unbuttoning the fly one tiny pop at a time.

It would be good for our friendship if I could look away, but I can’t.


With Herculean effort, I drag my eyes up to his face.


He doesn’t say anything more, but holds my eyes as he pushes his jeans down his hips and kicks them to the side.

“Yeah?” I repeat. I am breathing too hard for this. It has to be noticeable.

This is totally different. Something is happening this morning that is not canon Oliver + Lola. I feel like we’re stepping through the doorway into Wonderland.

“Where do you want me?”

Want you?”

“To stand?”

“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Right there is good.”

The panel shows the girl, staring at the boy, her skin covered in licking, blue flames.



Scraps of paper

I know we can’t stop what we’re feeling. I know that. I can see my three friends studying me like I’m a fascinating bug in a glass dish, because—at least for Harlow and Mia—they would never worry about how to balance these things. Mia’s done it before, and Harlow will just bend the world to fit the palm of her hand.

I pull a pen from my bag and a crumpled receipt and start drawing.

The panel shows the girl, hunched over her desk. Scraps of paper litter the floor. The desk is covered in pencil shavings.



Come here, Lola Love

I nod and turn my face to him just as he leans close, putting his lips on mine. Slightly open. Just barely wet. The tip of his tongue touches the tip of mine and it’s a match struck against pavement.

I’m over him, pressing down, needing relief in that aching part of me. Aching parts: between my legs. Inside my ribs.

I want to believe I can breathe without him but I’m not sure, and I don’t know what’s more terrifying: thinking I could never be alone again or trying it.

I hear a quiet cry escape my throat. “I missed you.”

He kisses me again, whispering, “So did I. Come here, Lola Love.”




Langdon sighs heavily, looking to Austin in exasperation. “We don’t have time for this.”

“No, no,” Austin says, waving easily to Langdon, and giving me a winning smile. “Let her speak.”

Nodding, I say, “I prefer it to happen the way it is in the book.”

Under his breath, Langdon sneers, “Now there’s a surprise.”

I whip my head to him. “Excuse me?” I ask, my heart beating so hard I’m shaking. “Isn’t this an adaptation of the book? I edited that scene for weeks to get it right.”

A sarcastic smile curls Langdon’s mouth. “You’re how old?” he asks, leaning forward with his elbows planted on the table.

I sit up.

The panel shows a girl with a barrel of propane, holding a match.



He draws his tongue across the seam of my mouth, encouraging me to open again. I feel his quiet groan, the urgency behind his touch when he cups my face and tilts his head, getting a better angle. Steam is rushing through my blood, too, urging my hips to fall into the instinctive easy rhythm. Desire flashes hot along my skin when my body remembers sex with him. I want every touch to turn into something deeper and wild.



Entwined, afire

“Lola.” My name is an urgent whisper on his lips, and I reach up, pulling his glasses from his face. He takes them from me and slides them onto the nightstand with so much caution that I wonder if he also feels so deliberate in every movement, it’s like moving through water.

“You sure?” he whispers.

“I’m sure.”

The panel shows them prone, entwined, afire.



Stars (perhaps our favorite one)

I gasp, my wide, thrilled eyes meeting his calm, knowing ones and an electric storm builds in me, curling my spine and pulling my legs apart. He groans when he feels me go off like a bomb all around him. A million tiny eternities pass with his teeth pressed roughly against my jaw, my body liquefying beneath him.

The panel shows the girl dissolving into a sky full of stars.


We hope you love these as much as we do! Please grab the pictures and share widely, with the book title, and enjoy! If you love them and want a copy, make sure you tweet the link to this post, or share it on Facebook! We’d love to send you one of these illustrations! Remember, our teen horror-romance THE HOUSE comes out on Tuesday can Caroline did some amazing illustrations for this one, too, so keep your eyes peeled for them on Hypable every week (Week One, Week Two . . .)