Tuesday, 2 October 2018

Release Blitz for Blood & Secrets 5 by Rose Harper




Title: Blood & Secrets 5
Series: The Calvetti Crime Family #5
Author: Rose Harper
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 2, 2018



Blurb

We were never supposed to fall in love.

It should have only been about connections, convenience, strength, power.
But it turned into so much more, and now we risk losing it all.

However, if they think we’re going to lie down and take it, they have another thing coming.

We are Calvetti’s—The royalty of New York City.
I refuse to lose her.
Just like she refuses to lose me.

If they think they can defeat us, then it’s time to make them all bleed.

Because we’re dangerous. Calculated. Bloodthirsty.
The perfect motherfucking trifecta of crazy.
And they did the one thing you don’t do to merciless people like us …

They lied, and now it’s time to make them pay for their sins.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU


Free in Kindle Unlimited




AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio

Rose Harper thrives on bringing tantalizing, downright shiver inducing Dark Romance and Romantic Suspense novels for her readers to devour. She’s a lover of dark, sizzling passion, and mystery filled stories with twists and turns you never see coming, yet leave you wanting more.

Sign up to Rose’s New Release email list and you'll automatically be notified as soon as her next book is released: http://eepurl.com/c95qPH

Check out her website
And don't forget to come say hello on Facebook

Release Blitz for Fighting for Chloe by Harper Phoenix & Eva Jones




Title: Fighting for Chloe
Authors: Harper Phoenix & Eva Jones
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 2, 2018



Blurb

Dom

My life was simple…
Never lose a fight.
Life has dealt me a shitty hand, but I make the best of it.
All that matters is the payday so I can keep a roof over our head and the bailiffs from our door.
Life is complicated enough, or so I thought.
Chloe is the most attractive woman I have ever laid eyes on. But her name is spelled ‘trouble’ with a capital T.

Chloe

I ran away to get as far from him as I could. I made a new life. A good life.
But his problems found me, and so did an unexpected stranger.
Should I accept his help or just keep running? Should I just ignore this pull I feel towards him?
Keeping his family out of danger should be my priority, so why can't I just pull away?







Purchase Links

$1.99 for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Early Reviews

"Fighting For Chloe is a powerful story about the intensity of love and the things we're willing to risk, and sacrifice, to hold on to it." - Amali Rose, contemporary romance author

“This has everything in it. Drama, action, suspense and, of course, hot chemistry. You won’t want to miss it!” - GR Reviewer






Harper Phoenix


I was born and bred in East Yorkshire England, and I still live in my hometown, with my husband and children.

My journey with stories began when I was just a child, I would often scribble down wherever my dreams or imagination took me.

My journey with writing stories, began much later when I became ill and housebound for a period of eighteen months. I decided I would escape real life and become immersed in a story of my creation. With the support of my husband and family my first real story was born. I would stay up night after night tapping the keys of my trusty laptop, while my husband lay sleeping beside me. I was hooked. But it wasn't as easy as that. My story needed work. A lot of it. And it sat on my computer for some years after that. Later on I decided to embark on another journey. I went to university, where I studied Creative writing and English literature.

I then decided with a new wealth of knowledge that I would once again delve into the world that I had created. I had never forgotten the characters and would often think about what I would have liked to have done with them over the years. I had grown to love them for getting me through a very difficult period in my life, and I wanted other people to read all about them. And so I began to rewrite my book.

It wasn't until I delved into the 'Book world' on Facebook that I discovered the 'Indie book world.' It's amazing! So many authors are now being heard publishing this way, and I can only hope that my books will leave a lasting memory for some or all of you readers too!



Eva Jones
Eva Jones' love for the written word started in her early teens, when she'd sneak off with her mother's historical romance novels and blossomed from there.

Although she's always dreamed of moving south and starting a horse farm, Eva is an Ohio native who isn't ashamed of her undying love of 90s R&B, and the fact that going under the tattoo needle excites her.

Her passion for reading led her into this wonderful indie community, and landed her the role of personal assistant to one of her favorite indie authors.

When she's not running around after her three little gizmos and one big gremlin, you can find her crafting stories about flawed characters finding love amongst the chaos of life.

Release Blitz for Indulge with Me by Kristen Proby & Suzanne M

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Indulge With Me by Kristen Proby Series: With Me In Seattle #10 Release Date: October 2nd, 2018


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Synopsis:
The beloved Montgomery Family, from New York Times Bestselling author Kristen Proby’s With Me In Seattle series, is big, and it just keeps growing! There are parties and celebrations taking place at every turn, and we are delighted to invite you to all of the festivities!
Whether it’s a brunch hosted by Nate and Jules McKenna, or a fancy dinner party hosted by Luke and Natalie Williams, you won’t want to miss all we have in store for you! Each all-new story will feature shenanigans, laughter, love and lots of food.
And let’s not forget cocktails!
Kristen, along with USA Today Bestselling author Suzanne Johnson, have teamed up to bring you this cookbook, celebrating family, love, and absolutely delicious foods, perfect for any occasion.
So sit back, or march straight into the kitchen, and get ready to indulge. We hope you’re hungry!


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Download Today! Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2NRW3PU Amazon US Paperback: https://amzn.to/2GJlYRmiBooks: https://apple.co/2J2rvYk Kobo: http://bit.ly/2s51X33 Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2LkshON Google Play: http://bit.ly/2IasiDF Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2DmYlBy


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Meet Kristen:
Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years.
During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before the dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.
Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published close to thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion Series.
Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their two pugs and two cats.

Connect with Kristen:


About Suzanne:
USA Today bestselling author Suzanne Johnson is family trained, a south Georgia native who's been cooking all of her life, creating not only some really unique food, but precious memories that reoccur every time she smells something simmering in the oven. In all of her books, Suzanne shows that making a delicious meal doesn't have to be complicated--it just has to be made with love. So go ahead, don't be bashful, dive right in. Who knows? You might just make a few memories of your own

Connect with Suzanne:

Excerpt Reveal for A Princess's Duty by Sloane Murphy

 

The Princess’s Duty, an all-new Paranormal Fae Romance by Sloane Murphy is releasing October 22nd!

 
 
Cover Design by Hart and Bailey
Synopsis:
Have you ever wanted to escape? To be the one thing that everyone told you could never be?
All my life I've wanted to escape this place.
The nature of the Seelie court is one I was meant to be born to, but its everything I'm not.
The darkness around me threatens to pull me under when I was so close to everything I ever wanted, and now I have to sacrifice everything. Marry the man I hate to save the one I love.
Being a Princess of the Seelie Court isn't everything its cracked up to be. Especially when Cade Vasara is involved.
 
 
Pre-Order your copy Today!
Add it to your TBR - https://bit.ly/2O5qEpf
 

Excerpt

 
There are so many people in here. Royals and social climbers of the Winter Court, I try to see into the
edge of the room, cast in shadows, but the light surrounding me blinds me from it. The applause
continues as I make my way onto the stage, in front of the table where the Vasara’s sit, with Cade to the
left of his father who is just an older, slightly greying version of Cade, and Rowan to the right by his
mother. I curtsy as tradition dictates and hold my submissive position until I am released by King Earon’s
words.
“Emilia Daarke. What a long time it has been! Maybe this time when you leave here, it will not be in
bloody circumstances,” his cruel smile takes up half of his face and I hear the laughter and spattering of
applause from his audience behind me. I look to Lanora, whose face is unreadable. Cade sits stoically as
if his father has said nothing, but I see Rowan wince slightly from the corner of my eye. I will not be
baited, because that it exactly what they want.
“King Earon, it has been a long time. I’m glad the years have been kinder to me than it seems they’ve
been to you,” I say sweetly, my insult obvious but I know these people, I grew up with them. Trading
insults is nothing more than a game to them. He pauses, and a hush descends across the room, before
his laughter belts out, the sound bouncing across the room and I breathe a little easier knowing I’ve
started well, and I’m not bleeding yet. Insulting the winter fae is dangerous game. Sometimes they
laugh, other times, they’ll kill you where you stand. Blood sport is nothing unusual to them.
Cade stands and circles me, blatantly taking in my form in the corseted dress, which hugs and
accentuates every curve I have, trying to demean me without words. I stand and take it, being treated
like a piece of meat, as is expected.
“You, Emilia, chose to return here, after your twin brother was slaughtered here at my own hand, and
yet, you still wish to marry me and become queen of this court. Is that right?” Cade faces the audience
rather than me, everything for their entertainment and to make me feel like less than nothing.
“That is right, but must you really treat me with such disrespect. Someone who could potentially be your
future wife, your future queen. Can you not even look at me when you address me?” I don’t see his
hand as it reaches out and strikes me across the face, lightning fast, the shock of it knocking me off
balance.
“Maybe you are the one who needs to learn some respect, to the future king of this court, and to the
man you are hoping to marry. Know your place.” He towers over me, and that’s when I work out his
game. He wants us to submit, to show that we are weak and unworthy of him. So I brace myself and
stand.
“My place, your highness,” I spit, “is not on my knees, or at your feet.” I stand tall and take him face on.
“No queen of your court or mine is a submissive coward. I was not raised to cower before you, but to be
the strength and power at your side.”
 

About Sloane Murphy

My name is Sloane, but people call me a variety of names, particularly after they read my books. If you’ve read them, I’m sure you can use your imagination to work them out. I was born in England and have lived in small towns and cities ever since. My husband, Chris, is the most supportive person in my life. Without his love, help and patience I wouldn't be where I am today. Living my dreams, with him by my side and our crazy fur baby creating chaos. At school I drifted through, achieving average grades. I fell into administration and sales jobs, thinking that I couldn't really do anything else, despite always wanting more. I’d been writing poetry and song lyrics since the age of about 11, but my love of reading has always been strong. In 2012, I got my first kindle and discovered the works of Samantha Young, Addison Moore, Amanda Hocking, Tijan, A.E Murphy and many many more. In 2015 I stumbled into the indie world by accident. I emailed a certain indie author after falling head over heels for her books, and she became one of the best friends I will ever have. She’s a gladiator! But she pulled me in, and took me to my first book signing. She encouraged me to start my blog. She encouraged me to put my art out into the world, first with teasers & covers. Then when I finally told her about my stories, she encouraged me to put them out there. Between her and the one I love the most – thank you, Lauren Rowe - (my twinnie, and my best friend) I found the confidence to put myself out there, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Follow Sloane Murphy

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/sloanemurphybooks/
Amazon page: https://amzn.to/2Mg2JRV Newsletter: https://www.authorsloanemurphy.com/newsletter Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sloanemurphybooks/?hl=en Twitter - https://twitter.com/sloanemurphybks  

Blog Tour for THE EVOLUTION OF MAN by Skye Warren

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Ambitious. Intense. Irresistible.

The Evolution of Man, the stunning conclusion to the Trust Fund Duet by New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren, is LIVE!

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I never wanted to fall for man.
And definitely not two men.
They tear me apart until I don’t know how I’ll ever be whole again.
Until I’m not sure I want to be. How can I choose between two halves of myself?
THE EVOLUTION OF MAN is the second novel in the USA Today bestselling duet, which begins with Survival of the Richest.
EOM_AVAILABLE NOW
Download your copy today!
Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2LsFOY0
Start the series with Survival of the Richest
Excerpt:
“Good evening,” he says, as casually as if he saw me last week instead of six months ago. “Christopher,” I say, in case he hasn’t noticed. A table like this is reserved for VIPs or very special guests. Or ones with deep pockets. “This is the chef’s table. We’re sitting at the chef’s table in Koi.” “Is that good? I thought they just ran out of regular tables.” “Did you just make a joke. Oh my God. You did.” The chef chooses that moment to introduce himself, a rather effusive man with a comforting smile and a thick Japanese accent. He says he’ll forgive that we drink champagne as long as we try the sake pairing he sends with every course. And he personally serves the amuse bouche, a tuna sashimi lollie on a fennel cilantro salad with ponzu dressing that makes me moan despite myself. “Dear God,” I say when we’re alone again, my eyes still closed with the wonder of that single bite. There’s salt and citrus, and basically this is what heaven tastes like. “Did you spend all two billion dollars to get this table? Because it’s worth it.” When I open my eyes Christopher is watching me, a strange expression on his face. He hasn’t touched the plate in front of him. He seems more interested in the way that I dip my finger in the ponzu dressing and lime foam to savor the last drops. I’m not sure that love is on the table, but if the glitter in his eyes is anything to go by, sex is definitely an option. “One billion,” he says, almost absently. I blink. “What?” “Only one billion is mine. The other half belongs to Sutton.” It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. “Why did you bring me here?” One dark eyebrow rises. “You’re the one who insisted we meet in person.” “And you’re the one who brought me here.” The long pause that follows isn’t filled with hearts and roses. He does not secretly love me, and I feel like a fool for even considering the possibility. Because he took me out to dinner? It’s really a good thing I don’t date much, because I’m terrible at it. “I invested in the restaurant,” he says finally. “It helps to have your take.” “Because I have such a refined palate?” “Because you were born rich,” he says, his voice flat. “You know what rich people like.” It takes my breath away, and I’m left staring at him with the most incredible taste on my tongue. That’s all I am to him? A rich girl with nothing better to do with my time than give him advice on his new restaurant? Meanwhile I was gullible enough to think he actually wanted to spend time with me. It isn’t right. It isn’t fair, but then Christopher Bardot has never played fair.
About Skye:
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dangerous romance such as the Endgame trilogy. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, sweet dogs, and evil cat. SKyeWarren
Connect with Skye:
Stay up to date with Skye Warren by signing up for her mailing list:

Blog Tour for PERVERSION by T.M. Frazier

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“T.M. Frazier sucked me in from the very first page and then slayed me with the end of Perversion. This trilogy is EPIC!

Meghan March, New York Times bestselling author

PERVERSION, book one in the Perversion Trilogy from USA Today bestselling author T.M. Frazier is available now!

PERVERSION FRONT AMAZON
Love is supposed to be a fairy tale.
Ours is a death wish.
I'm the executioner for the Bedlam Brotherhood.
She's a con artist working for my greatest enemy.
I use her.
She manipulates me.
We find ourselves on opposite sides of a bloody war.
My heart and head tell me I have to stay away.
My lust for her doesn't give a sh*t.
Nothing's fair in love and gang war.
PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY
BOOK TWO: POSSESSION
BOOK THREE: PERMISSION
Download your copy of PERVERSION
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/perversionGR
PERVERSION TRILOGY
Pre-order POSSESSION now
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2xsJXCn
Pre-order PERMISSION now
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/Permission
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2Np7gHa
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Excerpt:
Emma Jean
When I was younger, I fell in love with magic. I learned every card trick there was from library books and unmasking magic TV specials. I used to put on shows for Gabby that included escaping from complicated knots and trick handcuffs. But what’s magic besides a sleight of hand? It’s a lie. And lying is what I’m damn good at. My ability to spin a tall tale or two lead to stealing wallets and conning people into taking stray pets for the thrill of it. Now, I’m using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but it’s muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats. The inside of the casino smells like stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. We’re not supposed to be in here. It’s Bedlam territory. But that’s also why it’s perfect. It isn’t like anyone would recognize us here. We’ve made friends with a few of the cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they don’t ask questions or ring any alarms when they see us working. I’ve also been straightening my hair over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a dark highway. I’ve dyed it a few shades darker than my normal honey blonde to help blend in. Tonight is starting off well. Gabby and I are working a con we’ve run a few times before. Gabby walks away, her long dark hair swooshing behind her. She gives me a nod as she passes me by on the slot machine I’m pretending to play. She’s just faked losing an expensive engagement ring at another slot machine. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she frantically looked around for it, then loudly announced a thousand-dollar reward would be waiting at the casino cage for whoever returned it. She is flawless. She should be an actress. And in another life, she would be. But we don’t live in another life. We live in Lacking and belong to Los Muertos. Our lives are not our own. A few people casually look around the area, then return to their machines when they don’t find the ring Gabby was ranting about. They won’t either. Because it’s not there. Yet. It's go time. I strut over to the area Gabby just left and put a dollar in the machine. While the wheels spin, I pretend to pick up the dime store ring I already have in my hand. By the time the machine dings to tell me I’ve lost my dollar, I’m turning the ring over, inspecting it like I don’t have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment. “Would you look at that?” I mutter to myself loud enough so others around me can hear. A man in an Adidas jumpsuit with a potbelly taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll take that. I saw the woman who dropped it. I’ll go return it to her.” Liar. You just want the reward. “That’s so nice of you,” I say. I hold it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. “I bet there’s a reward for something this valuable.” I start to walk around the man. “I’ll take it up to management. Maybe, they know…” “Here,” the man says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. I’ll take it to her. I just…you know, as I said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.” You’re not even a good liar. Sometimes, it’s just too freaking easy. And this scam wasn’t even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesn’t anyone else watch movies? I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. “Thanks,” I say before quickly making my way toward the large glass front doors. It’s Thursday. Marco’s money is due in two days, and we’re short this week. Really short. I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the valets with a smile on my face. “Any luck, tonight?” One asks me. “I think so,” I answer with a smile. Once I’m down the sidewalk and out of view, I scramble to the side of the casino where I kick off my heels and change from the sequined dress I’d stolen from a dry-cleaner into a pair of cut-off shorts and my yellow Keds. Now, all I have to do is wait for Gabby. I don’t have to wait long. “Run!” Gabby yells, darting from the doors of the casino with two large men wearing tight black security t-shirts close behind. Running from security is terrifying enough, knowing that we’re running from members of the Bedlam Brotherhood kicks it up a notch. I grab my backpack and sling it across my shoulders. I move as fast as I can until I’m running right alongside her. We race through the gates, cross the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two cars. We duck into a hole in a fence and run through one backyard after the other. “One of those cunt waitresses must have tipped them off!” Gabby says, through shallow breaths. She’s barefoot in a black mini-dress hiked up to her ass to give her long legs room to run. Her long thick hair is wrapped around her face, sticking to her mouth. We hit the sixth backyard. Without another word, we separate behind a clothesline. We’ve mapped out this escape plan a thousand times, but this is the first time we’ve ever had to use it. When I make it into the central part of town, to the Los Muertos/Bedlam border, I can no longer hear the shouts of the security guards. I lost them. Hopefully, Gabby did, too. I use a tower of stacked-up wooden pallets on the sidewalk like a ladder to scale a concrete wall, then drop down into the alley. I grow more panic-stricken the longer I wait for Gabby. I bite the inside of my lip, pacing back and forth along the high wall. The Bedlam Brotherhood runs the security at the casino. If they catch her and find out who she is? Or worse? Who her brother is? They'll... I shake the thought from my mind. She’ll be fine. She HAS to be fine. Please be okay, Gabby. Please. I’m trying to catch my breath and pull myself together when I hear a clink echo through the alley as if someone dropped some spare change, followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to the asphalt. “Gabby?” I ask into the darkness. Thinking it’s her, relief washes over me like rain on a barren desert. My only answer is the flickering of a fluorescent light mounted high on the roof’s edge of the adjoining building. And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster. I walk over and peer around it. “Gabby? Are you hurt? Say something!” I whisper-shout. Someone moves from within the shadow. “Get out here, Gabby. We’ve got to go before Mar…” The light flickers again, for just a second. That second is all I need to see that the someone slowly stalking toward me is not Gabby. It’s a man…twice my size. “Who are you?” I ask, shuffling backward as the man cloaked in a black leather hood emerges from the shadows. The front of his jacket is open. Underneath, he's shirtless, covered in a sheen of sweat, and more tattoos than visible skin all the way up the front of his throat. His muscled chest and abs flex with each step he takes. The hood shadows most of his face, but when the lights flicker again, yellow eyes glow from within. And they’re locked on me. My ‘save your ass’ mode kicks in. The man is blocking the only exit. My only other chance of escape is to scale the same wall I used to drop into the alley. I keep moving backward as he approaches until my back hits the wall. I look left and right for something to use to climb on. There’s nothing but emptiness. My stomach sinks, but surrender is not an option. I swallow hard as the alarm bells scream in my head for me to run. Somewhere. Anywhere. There’s nowhere to go! My legs tremble. Fear crawls like a million spiders along the backs of my legs. I push myself further against the wall as if I can squish the feeling away, but it’s useless. Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole. He continues toward me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s not just sweat glistening on his skin. There’s something else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw. It almost looks like wet paint. My breathing stops when he’s close enough that I can make out the tattoo on the front of his throat. A bleeding black rose. The symbol of the Bedlam Brotherhood. I’ve heard stories about Grim. The man in the hood. The executioner for Bedlam. They were all terrifying, but not nearly as terrifying as the reality of coming face to face with the man himself. “We didn’t do anything,” I blurt. “I mean, we did, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll…I’ll give the money back. Just tell your men not to hurt my friend. It was all my idea. Let her go, and you can take me.” “Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His voice is so thick and deep I feel it more than hear it. Shivers erupt all over my body. He raises his arm, revealing a long curved blade. For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to be able to hide my fear with my wit or sarcasm. My throat tightens. I can’t swallow, never mind speak. I’ve lost my words completely, along with my nerve. The man’s blade drips red onto the pavement from the serrated tip. Every fear response I didn’t even know I had runs rampant. I’m holding my breath. My muscles tense as if running was still an option. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle my skin as they stand on end. I raise up to my tip-toes and push back, trying to make myself disappear into the wall. I glance from the knife back to his chest, then back again. The splatters across his skin? It’s not fucking paint. Before I can process what the hell is happening, he switches from slow-stalking mode into hyper-speed, pinning my wrists above my head. His hard, bloodied chest pushes against me, smearing blood across my white tank top, forcing the back of my head to connect roughly with the wall. “I’ll only ask you this one more time. Who the fuck are you?” His low guttural growl rattles my bones. His unblinking, angry, golden eyes lock onto mine. Without the fluorescent light, they’re more golden brown than a glowing yellow. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. He could be the last person I ever see. The thought is just the spike of adrenaline I need. “Let me go,” I say, finally finding my words. I try and jerk my wrists from his grip with no luck. I’m trapped. My fear and anger rise to the surface, but I shove it back down. Fear won’t get me out of this situation, so it will have to wait for its damned turn. He digs his rough fingers into my skin. “Answer me. Who the fuck are you?” The bite of pain only makes me angrier. I throw his question back at him. “Who the fuck are you?” He glances down at my rapidly rising and falling chest before pinning me with his stare. The corner of his mouth tugs up in a half-smirk. “So much confidence for someone who's trembling,” he says with an amused glint shining in his demonic eyes. I shrug. “Maybe, I’m just not a fan of enclosed spaces,” I say through gritted teeth. “You didn’t answer me,” he says. “Why do you have blood all over you?” I answer him with yet another question. “You know, if you were committing some kind of crime back there, you should be more careful. I recommend a bleach bath and death by fire for your clothes the first chance you get. If it’s self-harm, I’m sure there’s a helpline you can call.” He cocks his head to the side. His nostrils flare. His face is only inches away. I can feel the heat from his body against mine. His cool breath flutters against my neck. I’ve never been this close to a man before. My trembling grows. My inner thighs shake sending a rippling wave of something very unfamiliar coursing through the center my body. I try and press my legs together to stop it from happening again, but when he uses his knee to wedge my legs apart, caging me in even further, it only grows, uncoiling from within like a slinky being pulled apart at the ends. I swallow hard as the stubble of his jaw presses against my neck. “Name,” he demands, his voice raspier than before. I shut my eyes tight for a beat, trying to gain composure, control, something that will help me as I try and reason my way out of this. “Listen, I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “That is if you did anything. I’m not going to call the police if that’s what you're worried about. I wouldn’t anyway, even if I saw something, which I didn’t.” His brows knit together in a harsh line. “Why?” His question confuses me. “Why what?” “Why wouldn’t you tell the police?” Because Marco owns them. “Let’s just say that I haven’t exactly been a model citizen myself tonight. Let’s face it. If the police around here weren’t being paid not to do their jobs, half this town would be locked up.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “Especially people like us.” He stills. There’s no more talking. Only heavy breathing and a battle of wills. He releases one of my hands. I think he’s reaching for his knife. My blood turns cold. I can feel my face pale as my heart starts beating as faster and faster as if it wants to get in as many as possible before the end. I’m surprised when he doesn’t go for his knife. Instead, his hand travels slowly down my chest into my cleavage. “No, don’t!” I say, but it’s too late, he’s already yanked on my locket. “Please just give it back, and let me go,” I plead. Feeling like it’s my real heart he's torn from my chest. “It’s the only thing in this world that means anything to me. Besides my best friend, it’s all I have.” I hate the desperation in my voice, but it’s the truth. He’s silent for a moment. He raises his arms. I flinch, raising my arms over my face defensively. But when nothing happens, I lower them, just in time to see him push back his hood, revealing his face. “Why?” I ask, closing my eyes knowing full well that the only time a criminal reveals himself to a witness is right before they take them out. “Look at me,” he demands, holding my face in his hand. “No!” I say, shutting my eyes tighter. “Look at me!” he bellows. He’s on me again. This time, he holds my head in his large rough hands. “Open your fucking eyes so you can see me.” With no other choice than to get my head squished like a turtle under a car tire, I do as he demands. Opening my eyes, I blink through the haze, and when it clears, I’m met with tousled, medium-length, light brown hair, slicked back on the top, shorn close to head on the sides. His nose is slightly crooked like it’s been broken a few times before. The stubble on his square, defined jaw is a few days over needing a shave. A jagged scar runs through his chin like an angry white lightning bolt. He’s the most fucking beautifully terrifying man I’ve ever seen. He’s searching my eyes for something, but I don’t know what. “Why?” I ask in a whisper. His hands release mine, but he doesn’t step back. He leans in closer, speaking against my cheek in a rumble of a whisper. The strange feeling from earlier comes back as a zap of electricity bouncing around my insides looking for somewhere to ground. I’m breathing heavy. Our lips are so close, almost touching. He slides one hand off my face, snaking it around my neck, pulling me closer. He starts to answer in a rumble of a whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on my already prickled skin. “Because I want you to see the face of the man who’s just—” “Where the fuck are you?” calls Gabby from the other side of the wall. “I lost them!” The moment, whatever it is, is now broken. The man releases me so suddenly I brace myself against the wall to keep from falling. I turn my head toward her voice. “Gabby!” I shout back. My heart is beating out of control. Out of habit, I raise my hand to my chest, seeking familiar comfort. I look up. The man in the hood is gone. And so is my locket.
About the Author
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier never dreamed that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she is a five-time USA Today bestselling author and her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world. T.M. enjoys writing what she calls sexy‘wrongside of the tracks romance’ with morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines. Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay. She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she's not ready to wake up from this amazing dream. TmFrazier
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