Gray’s Promise

GRAY’S PROMISE

A King Security Novel, Book 2

by Anni Fife

Genre: Steamy Romantic Suspense

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Zoey Morgan seems to have it all as a successful surgeon in Boston. However, perfection lies only on the surface. Plagued by nightmares and amnesia from a tragedy that ripped her family from her fourteen years ago, she finds the courage to reach out to the only man who can make her feel safe. She’s buried the memory of their love, but her heart—and her body—responds to the ex-marine in ways that are all too familiar.

Grayson “Gray” Walker’s heart shattered when Zoey chose another man over him. Since then, he’s built an impenetrable wall around his emotions. But from the moment she implodes back into his life, her vulnerability breaches his defenses. His skills as an elite member of the King Security team cannot shield him from the devastation of learning he might have left Zoey high and dry when she needed him most. Now, Gray must navigate the tripwire of helping her heal while protecting himself from being hurt again.

As the embers of their potent love reignite, an old threat awakens, leading to greater danger than ever before.

A jealousy that destroys everything in its path…a love that refuses to die.

Gray!

He was behind the reception desk, leaning over a computer screen, and discussing something with the receptionist. He glanced up to check who was exiting the elevator. I had no doubt he knew me immediately because his brows snapped together, recognition clear on his face. His eyes tracked me as I approached.

“Good morning, may I help you?”

I tore my gaze from Gray’s to stare at the receptionist. He was slim, dark-eyed, and so perfectly groomed he looked like he’d been airbrushed for a GQ cover. His brow arched, waiting for my response. I ignored him and looked back at Gray, who remained frozen. Like a still-life, one arm resting on the back of the receptionist’s chair, the other bracing himself on the desk. Only now, his face was blank. My stomach tried to launch into my chest. Blank! I didn’t know how else to describe it. Dear God, please let my face be blank too. But I knew it wasn’t.

Gray!

My heart raced. It was a cliché but it was true. I could feel it pumping in my chest. Gray was even more handsome than I remembered. His dark hair was short, but not military short. It was sleekly styled, like his clothing. Practical, but his jeans were definitely designer. He was more built than I remembered, the power in his body clearly defined by the silky black T-shirt hugging his torso. He’d always been confident; now it was something else. Something that lifted the hair all over my body. But my heart didn’t care. It beat wildly. Recognizing him. Wanting him.

But his face was blank.

“Hello-oo! Do you have an appointment?”

“Cool it, Blake, she’s here for Gray.”

It was the hunk who looked like Thor that spoke. But like Gray, I paid him no heed. I was locked in a silent battle of wills with Grayson Walker. And I was losing.

Shit. I should have made an appointment.

I sucked in a long breath. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand…ever so slowly, I breathed out, never breaking eye contact with him. My heartbeat settled. Yes. I could do this; I was a master at control.

Acid trickled up my throat as he pushed away from the desk and straightened to his full height. His fixed gaze never left mine. My hands curled, fingernails digging into my palms. I always remembered his eyes more blue than gray. Gentle and glinting with wicked humor. Not anymore. Now they were slate. Cold and lethal, like the scalpels I used to cut through human tissue.

“How did you know where to find me?”

No greeting? No “lovely to see you, Zoey”?

“Gerald,” I croaked.

I swallowed hard, pushing down the pain. My voice was normally husky and low-pitched. Gray used to say it was sultry. I loved that, especially since the huskiness was a result of baby colic. I was a chronic crier as a baby and developed nodules, which in turn created calluses on my vocal cords. So sultry sounded nice, sexy.

I didn’t sound sultry now.

My skin goosed as I watched his lips set into a hard line. His mouth was one of the thousand things I loved about him. His upper lip a perfect cupid’s bow. His lower one, full and sensual with a marked indent. I used to tease him that he had the mouth of a porn star. And he did. God! The indescribable pleasure—

“…do you want?”

What did he say? As usual, I’d let the past smother the present. “I’m sorry—”

“What are you doing here, Zoey?” he repeated, clearly impatient.

Yes, what was I doing here?

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ON SALE FOR ONLY 99 CENTS FROM DEC 1-14

Luke’s Redemption

From an exciting new author, a Steamy Romantic Suspense.

Red-hot sex. Searing betrayal. A passionate and elusive love…

Chased by her criminal kingpin father, Katya Dalca runs to New Orleans and straight into the arms of Luke Hunter. Sucked into the carnal world of the French Quarter, she succumbs to Luke’s potent sexuality. He not only steals her breath, he steals her heart and the only leverage she has against her father. She is left with no choice except to pick up the pieces and rebuild her life alone.

Undercover DEA agent Luke Hunter thought his newest assignment–recover a stolen flash drive to gain the trust of the Russian mob–was like any other. But his target brings him to his knees, and after one taste of her intoxicating beauty, he’s in too deep. Doing his job means walking away, leaving his heart behind with nothing but a promise to reunite. It’s a promise he can’t keep.

When Katya’s past reaches out and her world unravels, her only hope is the one man she is most vulnerable to–Luke.

Anni Fife is an exciting new contemporary romance author who has already made an indelible mark in the popular genre of steamy romantic suspense. Her debut novel, Luke’s Redemption, has been acclaimed by critics and readers and was a Finalist in the 2017 RONE Awards. Anni says she credits Kristen Ashley as her guiding inspiration, and strives to make her characters equally as heart-wrenching and unforgettable. She is currently working on Eva’s Peace (King Security Book 3).

Last year, Anni closed the door on a successful career in television production to fulfill her lifelong passion, writing. In the space of a month, she shut her business, packed up her city life, and moved to a small seaside village. When she’s not writing, she can be found on the beach searching for pansy shells, or drinking red wine and gabbing with her gal posse.

If you want to know when Anni’s next book is releasing and be first to get regular updates and BONUS TREATS, visit her website and sign up to join her POSSE.

Anni is published by The Wild Rose Press, and is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA).

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Exacting Revenge

EXACTING REVENGE

Executioners MC Series, book 2

by Kimmie Easley

Genre: MC Romance/Romantic Suspense (Spicy, MC level violence)


Ronin grows hungrier. Only two things can feed his appetite. Jolene and power.

With a rogue soldier and an enemy club fast on their wheels, the Executioners are left with little option to keep their family whole. Now, away from home territory, Ronin is finding out the trouble may hit closer to the heart of the club.

Can he keep Jolene safe, steer his brothers in a profitable direction, and be the Soldier at Arms he’s called to be without falling on the wrong side of the pavement?

Exacting Revenge is the second, spicy installment in the Executioners MC Series.

Series Order: X Marks the Spot – Executioners MC (Book #1)

A mixture of blood and spit flies, splatting across my right cheek. I jerk the worn bandana from my back pocket and wipe the shit from my face, not giving it a second thought.

Herc is enjoying his rank today. We’ve been tasked with finding Ruth. It’s about fucking time.

“You ready to tell me something I can use?” I force my boot against the shattered man’s throat. He uses both hands, struggling to push my weight away. It’s a futile move. I press harder.

I refuse to make a move on the Pistol Kings at this point, seriously pissing off the old man. He doesn’t know that I have certain information, and it’s important that I keep it that way.

When I think the loser has had enough, I release his windpipe. Herc, on cue, straddles the man, cracking his massive knuckles.

He pries open his mouth, breaking the dried blood crevices. “I swear…”

Herc lands a square fist into his ribs, causing him to buckle.

Then he says something that none of us expected. “You’re gonna have to go ahead and kill me. I don’t know nothing,” he squeaks through a strangled voice.

The weight of Clint’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

“Son of a whore!” Troy kicks gravel across the railroad.

“What do you wanna do, VP?” Clint adjusts his cut.

I stare through my best friend as if he weren’t standing there. I’m at a loss. I’ve exhausted all avenues. This bastard was my final option.

Ruth’s blood is on my hands.

I rip my gaze away and scowl at the Enforcer. “Go back in.”

My words send the wounded man on squirming on the ground into a frenzy.

As Herc settles his heel into the enemy’s gut utilizing all of his weight, my cell rattles in my pocket.

If it were anyone other than Jolene I would send it to voicemail, but not with the dick move way I ditched her this morning. I’m already in the shit house. It’s never too soon to start kissing ass.

“Hey darlin, I know you’re pissed, but seriously just give me a second to…”

She spews shit I thought I’d never have to hear come from her mouth. The kind of shit that only comes from deep inside the club.

My dense chest heaves as I tuck the phone away. “Cut him loose.”

Everyone stops and whips their heads in my direction with the exception of the mangled body, whose eyes are both now swollen completely shut.

“What’s up, brother?” Troy jumps on his sled.

“No time. We’re headed to Jericho.”

We ride without stopping. If I could will this fucking bike to go faster, I would. The fear in Jo’s voice is engrained on my soul. I can’t handle it. There’s nothing in this world that can bring me to my knees like that sound.

I’ve only heard it once, the night she was lying on the singed grass surrounded by ash and burning splinters of wood.

The night we lost our baby.

My small town calls me home. I zip through the stoplights and ignore the traffic signs.

Clubhouse.

Jolene.

My only thoughts are on repeat.

I wouldn’t have wasted the time circling around to the back, but I knew the door was already open.

I fly off my sled. I can hear my brothers speak, but tune them out.

“Jolene!”

“In here”

My pulse races, pumping scores of frenzied blood though my heated veins.

I spot her and don’t stop to assess the situation.

I can’t get my hands on her quick enough. My mind is blank and my body moves on automatic pilot until I snake my arms around her trembling frame, lifting her off the ground, holding her tight like a scared child with a stuffed animal.

Just like that all of the stifled emotions sending me reeling.

Mist fills my eyes as I bury my damp face in her neck. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

She strokes my neck. “I knew you would.”

“What the fuck?” Clint stalks through the Clubhouse.

“You girls alright?”

“We’re whole,” Jessa responds with a shaky tone.

“It’s Brad.” I turn back to the crowd, planting Jo back on the floor, but refusing to let her go.

“The homeowner dick guy?” Troy cocks his head.

“Yep. Jolene confirmed it.” A visible ripple shudders through Jessa.

The boys start poking and prodding at what’s left of the nasty, stinking body parts. None of us notice the light rap on the front door, not until the person pounds on the locked gate.

Everyone in the room draws their weapons, females included. The moment I have to prepare for battle means I have to take my hands off my woman and that sends fury to not only deep in my gut, but my dark, dusty heart, and that has become a whole new level of danger for me and any mother fucker who decides to cross my path sideways.

I’m ready.

More ready than I have ever been.

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X Marks the Spot

Executioners MC Series, book 1

Jolene Miller barely escaped the dark underworld of being the president’s daughter of a notorious motorcycle club. After having her heart broken by Ronin, the MC’s Sargent at Arms, she tried to navigate a normal life as an up and coming criminal defense attorney.

When the only family she’s ever known comes under fire, Jolene rushes home to Jericho, California to step in – only to find it’s not just the club who needs her.

Ronin is wanted for murder.

Can Jolene let go of their tortured past in order to save their future?

Kimmie is an international best selling romance author who has grown up traveling the country, rarely settling in one place for much longer than a minute. Being no stranger to heartache and pain, she allows her unconventional childhood to fuel her writing.

Kimmie is addicted to all things books, wine, cupcakes, and flip flops. She is a homeschool momma, southern wife, and pug wrangler.

Kimmie can be found somewhere in the south writing wine worthy stories.

Exacting Revenge

EXACTING REVENGE

Executioners MC Series, book 2
by Kimmie Easley


Genre: MC Romance/Romantic Suspense (Spicy, MC level violence)
Cover Model: Alfie Gordillo
Photographer: Reggie Deanching
Cover Designer: Cassy Roop
Release Date: Nov 20, 2017
Ronin grows hungrier. Only two things can feed his appetite. Jolene and power.
With a rogue soldier and an enemy club fast on their wheels, the Executioners are left with little option to keep their family whole. Now, away from home territory, Ronin is finding out the trouble may hit closer to the heart of the club.
Can he keep Jolene safe, steer his brothers in a profitable direction, and be the Soldier at Arms he’s called to be without falling on the wrong side of the pavement?
Exacting Revenge is the second, spicy installment in the Executioners MC Series.
Series Order: X Marks the Spot – Executioners MC (Book #1)
I try, once again, to fall asleep. Fucking impossible. I can’t rest knowing the Pistol Kings have the Executioners on their hit list. I can’t think with Jolene in danger.
My only job in life is to keep her safe. She’s the only thing that matters.
I watch her sleep. Her long hair is fanned out across the pillow and she must have kicked off her covers while tossing and turning. Her t-shirt has ridden up, revealing her tight tummy, and a tiny, black thong with little strings is lining her slim hips.
Fuck.


She owns that deep-down part of me. That small part of me that is good. I don’t know, my spirit or soul, whatever the fuck they want to call it, belongs to her.
Better her than me.
She stirs. “Hey baby. Come to bed.” She props herself up on one elbow. Her long locks fall around her bare shoulders. A sleepy grin curves in the corners of her full lips, still swollen from the delicious sex just hours earlier.

With pleasure.


I lie next to her, coiling my arms around her tiny frame. I curl her up, resting her against my inked chest. That X across my heart that connects us, forever. I can feel the rise and fall of her breath as her perfect tits move with her breathing. She’s out again. I remember back to what it was like to not have her in my life. It sends an immediate boulder straight to my gut. That’s a reality I can’t survive.
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Executioners MC Series, book 1
Jolene Miller barely escaped the dark underworld of being the president’s daughter of a notorious motorcycle club. After having her heart broken by Ronin, the MC’s Sargent at Arms, she tried to navigate a normal life as an up and coming criminal defense attorney.
When the only family she’s ever known comes under fire, Jolene rushes home to Jericho, California to step in – only to find it’s not just the club who needs her.
Ronin is wanted for murder.
Can Jolene let go of their tortured past in order to save their future?
Kimmie is an international best selling romance author who has grown up traveling the country, rarely settling in one place for much longer than a minute. Being no stranger to heartache and pain, she allows her unconventional childhood to fuel her writing.
Kimmie is addicted to all things books, wine, cupcakes, and flip flops. She is a homeschool momma, southern wife, and pug wrangler.
Kimmie can be found somewhere in the south writing wine worthy stories.
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This Devil is Crazy

THIS DEVIL IS CRAZY

The Devil’s Prophets, book 1

by Pauline Hornsby

 

Genre: Romance Suspense. (high heat levels)

When Jenna Mitchell enters the world of the Devil’s Prophets Motorcycle Club, unlike most women before her, she is not there to land herself a biker. After the late president of the MC, kidnapped their baby and murdered her sister, Jenna could only look on from the sidelines as another woman raised Jack. Now is her chance to finally reunite with her son, and nothing will stand in her way.

Try telling that to Ali, the club’s enforcer. The stunning, quiet bookkeeper is like the start of his favourite sex fantasy, the part just before the secretary whips off her glasses, and shakes down her hair. One short meeting, and she’s all he can think about.

First love at thirty two, seems unlikely, yet Jenna can’t help falling for the sexy, dirty mouthed biker. But it’s not all MC parties and off the chain hot sex for this interloper. When the man that wants you, demands your secrets too, it’s only a matter of time before he will them find out.

Ali

I let myself into the office the moment Chrissie left to do the banking. “You settling in?” I said, picking one of the pens out of the stupid penguin holder that Chrissie must have bought.

“I have a lot to do,” Jenna said and swallowed. “Can I help you?”

She appeared skittish and I had no plans to alleviate that. “Maybe.” I slid the pen back into the container. “Funny place for someone like you to work. Did you know it was an MC?”

I waited for her to say no, to tell me that she had no idea that the garage had a link to an outlaw motorcycle club. “I worked it out from the address, so yes,” she said.

“You’ve lived here, what, a month?”

“Six weeks. Is there anything else? I’m kind of swamped.”

I reached across and closed the laptop, her perfume hitting me sharply. Roses, unusual when most women around the place smelled of spices and sex. I liked it, though, the aroma lighter, more subtle than I was used to. “Take a break.”

Her eyes went to my mouth like she lip-read me. “I could make coffee,” she said, her hands shaking before she closed them into fists.

“So, where’s Mr. Mitchell?” I asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I thought you checked all that out?” Her mouth lifted at one side.

“We did, just wondering if you have one hidden away somewhere.” I leaned closer. “You don’t look single.”

“I don’t? What does single look like?” She appeared interested, her head tilting.

“Not beautiful like you.” I cocked my head to the side. “But you don’t look very content, so you’re either not being fucked properly, or you are on your own.”

Her breath hissed in. “I don’t appreciate that.”

“Being fucked properly?” I didn’t back away, leaning down a little more.

“Being spoken to like that. It’s disrespectful and unprofessional. I’m here to work, not have you come in here and harass me like this.” She rolled her chair back and I held down the chuckle that started making its way up my throat. “I think you should leave.”

“Babe, you don’t get to tell me shit.” I straightened up. Fuck, my dick had been getting hard the entire time I had been talking to her. I had been caught up in the discussion, but still, how the hell had I not noticed?

“I’m just making conversation. Besides, it’s you that’s harassing me.”

“What?” Her eyes grew rounder. Had she noticed? I really hoped so. “I’ve said nothing to you.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been checking me out. I saw you watching me. I’m not an object, you know.” I smiled, softening my words. I’d liked her watching me. Of course, she’d checked out my brothers too. We were probably like animals in a zoo to the pretty little citizen.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said, her voice wavering. I’d caught her, she couldn’t really deny that.

“It’s okay. I think I like you harassing me.” I scratched my chin. “Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, you can harass me as much as you want.”

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Pauline lives in a quaint country town where she writes, reads, and is lucky enough to, live romance. Having found the love of her life early, she has no issue with her friends reading her stories, and being unable to make eye contact with her for weeks after. It’s all about love, and the trials of finding a happy ever after in her world.

Shadow Game

SHADOW GAME

by Kay Maree

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Have you ever been scared of your own Shadow?

A broken relationship.

A past best forgotten.

A chance meeting.

Who is threatening her? What do they want with her?

Can the tall, dark and sexy Detective save her from her Shadows, or will they both be caught up in her nightmare?

Leia

“Hello?” I hold the phone to my ear with a shoulder while I sit on the edge of my bed trying to pull on a pair of black jeans. Cursing myself for buying the tightest fucken jeans ever made, grrr.

“Leia”

“Oh, hi Ryan.” I’m breathless, thanks to the wrestling match with my pants, and a little confused as to why he’s ringing me. I glance at the clock on my nightstand wondering if I’m running late for our date.

“Leia, we need to talk.”

Fuck, that doesn’t sound good. I stop struggling with my jeans, reach up and grab my phone. I inhale and exhale slowly, wondering where this conversation is going. But, in all honesty, I knew it was coming.

“What’s up?” I hope my voice sounds void of any, and all, emotion.

He chuckles nervously before he goes on, “how do you make those two words sound like a business discussion?” he mumbles lowly.

I sit up a little straighter when I hear his words. I don’t think he meant for me to hear him, but I did, and it kind of hurt. He makes me sound so cold. He keeps speaking so I don’t get a chance to say anything.

“I’m just going to cut to the chase, I don’t think this thing we have going on is working.”

I nod as he keeps speaking even though he can’t see me. “I would really like to use that old saying of ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ but I won’t lie to you – it is definitely you. I didn’t say that to hurt your feelings, and you’re a nice girl, but I just don’t see this going anywhere.”

He hurriedly speaks the last words, and I wipe away the single tear which has slipped down my cheek, determined not to let him know his words hurt. I take another small breath in and out, slowly release it so my voice doesn’t break when I speak. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He sounds puzzled.

“Well, what would you like me to say? You have obviously made up your mind so, there is no point arguing with you.” I note the edge to my voice.

“You must have known this was coming, Leia. You’re so unresponsive and closed off. How the hell am I supposed to get to know you when you block me at every turn?”

“Well, I guess it’s not your issue anymore, Ryan. You can…”

He cuts me off before I can finish the sentence. I feel anger slide up and down my spine wondering why the fuck I put up with this prick for the last four months.

“Look I’m sorry, okay. Fuck, I didn’t ring to upset you I just thought…”

I cut him right back the fuck off. Fuck him, and fuck this conversation, or whatever the fuck it is.

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I live in Newcastle, on the New South Wales coast of Australia with my husband and three beautiful children.

Between being a taxi for my children, and working full-time, I somehow find the time to write. It’s something I love with a passion and with the encouragement of my very supportive husband, I have accomplished one of my dreams – releasing my first novel.

I hope you fall in love with my characters as much as I have.

I love reading and getting lost in a good book when I manage to snatch five minutes to myself.

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From The Ruins



FROM THE RUINS
(A Satan’s Knights Novel)
by Janine Infante Bosco
Publication Date: September 26, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense


Are you ready to get ruined with Pipe and Layla? 
Happy Cover Reveal Day to Janine Infante Bosco – Author! 
Check out the AWESOME new cover for 
¸.•´FROM THE RUINS¸.•´ 
#PREORDER your copy now!


Add to #Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2vqslHx

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC




.•´COVER CREDITS¸.•´

Cover Designer: JB’s Cover Obsession Design
Model: Michael Joseph
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, R+M Photography



¸.•´SYNOPSIS¸.•´

Pipe

In every man’s life there comes a day of reckoning. It’s the day darkness is exposed and sinners are punished for their trespasses.
A day when loyalty is destroyed and a man is left in ruins.
When he walks away from his club and loses his religion.
Whoever said from the ruins they will rise again never walked a mile in my shoes or the pair of red ones I was left holding.


Layla

He’s bitter, cold and angry.
He’s seen his share of heartache.
Lived through tragedy and despair.
He’s my neighbor.
The man I know should stay away from.
The man who will destroy what’s left of me if I get too close.
He’s Lee Jameson, and I’m Layla Milano.
This is our story.
The story of two people left in ruins forced to rise again.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC



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$20.00 Amazon gift card & 8×10 Print of Michael Joseph







.•´#EXCERPT¸.•´

Excerpt From The Ruins © Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

Stalking down the wooden steps, I cross my lawn to hers and prepare myself for another argument. Deciding I should’ve dragged my ass back to bed and damned the world to hell, I pound my fist against her front door. 
Let that punk kid give me lip.
Or better yet, let her husband get in my face.
I’ll welcome them to the neighborhood.
The door swings open and my gaze travels downward to the pipsqueak staring up at me like I’m the big bad wolf.
 Great.
“Uh, hey, kid,” I start, running my fingers through my hair as a pair of big brown eyes level me. 
“You’re the man from last night,” she says, shaking her little finger at me. “The man on the lawn who broke my mom’s car.”
“I didn’t break your mom’s car,” I grind out.
“But Tommy said—”
“Look, kid is your mom or dad home?” I ask, cutting her off, not really looking to go head to head with some little half pint. Huffing, she crosses her arms against her chest and rolls her eyes dramatically.
 “We don’t live with daddy anymore. He and mommy are divorced,” she reveals, uncrossing her tiny arms as she plants her hands on her hips and angles her head. “Dad is living in our old house which sucks. Shit, don’t tell my mom I said sucks. She gets all pissy when I curse but it’s not really a curse right? I mean you should hear some of the things that come out of my mom’s mouth.”
Jesus, this kid.
Rubbing my temples, I look past her hoping to find her mother but the mud wrestler ain’t nowhere in sight and the kid continues to ramble on, revealing all her mama’s secrets.
“Tommy says we’re here because mom can’t afford a house in the city,” she adds. “But, I think it’s also because mommy hates daddy and wants to be far away from him.” Her lips straighten into a thin line as she glances down at the floor seeming to be in deep thought. “That sucks too,” she mutters with a frown.
 Dropping my hands from my face, I shove one into my pocket and stare at her. Not sure what to say, not really understanding why the fuck I care, I press my finger under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.
“Divorce sucks kid,” I tell her.
“You said sucks,” she says.
“Yeah, you did too,” I point out, watching as the frown fades from her lips. Lifting her chin, she studies me curiously. Having a pair of little eyes on me, eyes that are full of wonder is a sobering moment for a bastard like me. It makes me think about how I’m perceived in the eyes of a child. 
My thoughts are quickly jarred when I hear half-pints mother shriek from deep inside the house. Then I hear her other two kids shout and before I realize what the fuck I’m doing, I’m following the little girl into the house. Running into the kitchen, the kid comes to a complete stop and I stand behind her, taking in the chaos.
Water spurts from under the sink like a waterfall and the mud wrestler holds a pot in front of her as if to catch the fucking water. The older boy grabs another pot and tries to help his mother while the other girl covers her face with her hands.
“Make it stop,” the girl cries.
“I don’t know how!” the mother shrieks, emptying the pot into the sink. Her son goes sliding across the floor and she’s quick to grab his wrist before he hits the floor as the water rains down around them making it clear they’re fucked.
Stomping through the puddles soaking the kitchen, I brush past them and kneel underneath the sink to turn the water valve off. As I twist it closed, I spot the busted pipe. Suddenly the commotion comes to a standstill as the water trickles off and silence fills the kitchen. Slipping my head out from under the sink, four sets of eyes peer back at me like I’m a fucking unicorn. Wiping my hands along the front of my shirt, I focus on the mud wrestler as she seems to be the least judgmental of the four. 
“The main pipe under the sink cracked. I shut the water off for now,” I explain as she continues to stare at me in disbelief. Unable to help myself, I take her in too. Dressed in a pair of pajamas with her hair piled high on top of her head, she’s quite a looker. The thin tank top of her pajamas is soaked, molding to every curve of her body, revealing a narrow waist and hips that a man holds onto. Lifting my gaze higher, my eyes zero in on her tits. Her nipples are hard and fully visible through the wet shirt, leaving nothing to my imagination. It’s hard to believe the tall boy standing next to her is her son or that any of these children came from that body. 
Forcing my attention away, I reach for the towel hanging on the back of one of her chairs and toss it in her direction.
“Might want to cover up,” I tell her, eyeing the boy standing behind her, wearing the same stumped expression as his mother.
Recovering she catches the towel and crosses her arms against her chest, hiding her perfect tits from my view. Last night it was too dark and I was too drunk to notice her hazel eyes or how full her lips are. My gaze meets hers and I realize the view up top is just as sweet as everything from the neck down.
“What—how did you get in here?” she stammers, finally finding her voice. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to thank me for stopping the waterfall in her kitchen but she just looks at me expectantly.
“I let him in,” the half-pint offers. 
Instantly, her brother turns to her and lectures her claiming the role as man of the house.
“You can’t be letting strange men in the house, Lexi,” he reprimands, wringing out his t-shirt.
Half pint rolls her eyes to the heavens before looking back at me.
“What’s your name?” she questions innocently.
It’s a simple question yet I stare at her as if she asked me if I knew the cure for cancer. My first instinct is to tell her my name is Pipe but I’m not that man anymore. I’m not the man who got his road name because he made pipe bombs his club sold back in the day. I don’t ride with the Satan’s Knights anymore.
“Lee,” I mutter. “The name is Lee, kid.”
She steps forward and offers me her little hand.
“I’m Lexi,” she reveals as I awkwardly shake her hand with my massive paw. Then she drops my hand and turns to her brother. “Now, Lee isn’t a stranger anymore, Tommy.” 
“Okay, parties over kids,” the mud wrestler declares. “Jenna, take your sister upstairs and help her get dressed.”
“Why do I have to help her? She’s five.”
“Because I said so,” she replies exasperatedly. Cringing as the words leave her mouth, she turns to her eldest child. “You too, Tommy.”
“I’m not dressing Lexi.”
“Go shower, now,” she orders. “We need to get a move on.”
The two girls prance out of the kitchen but Tommy remains still, sizing me up much like he did last night. It’s clear the kid is protective of his mother and since half pint squealed all her mama’s business, I can respect the kid for stepping up. I hold his gaze and jut my chin, giving him a silent vow that all is good here. 
“Tommy,” my neighbor repeats and the boy finally tears his eyes away. A moment later he reluctantly leaves the kitchen. “Thank you for turning the water off,” she says once we’re alone and I turn my attention back to her
I nod, letting my eyes roam over her, wishing she’d uncross her arms now that her kids are out of sight.
“But you didn’t come here to fix my plumbing and I don’t see you as a member of the welcoming committee so I’m confused as to why you’re standing in my kitchen.”
“Your car is blocking my driveway.”
“You mean the car your friends smashed?”
“That’s the one,” I reply, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “If you’re planning on going into town you’re going to want to fix that bumper first. The fucking troopers up here won’t think twice about giving you a citation.” I pause, angling my head slightly as I continue to take her in. “I’m guessing that’s the last thing you need right now.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as her eyes narrow in anger. Grinding her teeth, she drops her arms and draws in a deep breath as she balls her hands into fists. 
“And how would you know what I need?” she bites back.
Oh, I know what she needs. Any man with a pair of working eyes can tell this woman is wound tight. She needs to release some of that tension inside her. She needs to get fucked until she can’t remember her name let alone her troubles but I doubt she wants to hear that.
“Your daughter has loose lips,” I say instead. “Might want to tell her not to spill your business to strangers.”
“Thanks for your input but I think I’m going to pass on the parenting advice from a man who had two half naked girls on his lawn in the middle of the night—both who are probably young enough to be his daughters.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I remain impassive as she studies me with her those judgmental eyes of her. 
I’m used to people’s remarks. Being a biker, I’ve had my share of assumptions made about me. Everyone thinks they know everyone. You take one look at a person and swear you’ve got them all figured out. At times, I myself have been guilty of the offense. It takes years of making the wrong convictions and learning from each mistake to realize you never truly know a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
 “I’ve got everything under control,” she adds and for a moment I wonder who she’s trying to convince.
“Suit yourself, killer,” I retort with a shrug and push off the counter.
“Layla,” she whispers before sighing. “My name is Layla not killer,” she adds, emphasizing the name by adding air quotes.
“Good to know,” I say as I start towards the door. “Get your car out of my driveway, killer.”
Then without another word, I step out of the kitchen. I’m halfway toward the front door when I hear her curse and my lips quirk slightly. 
Half pint was right. 
Her mother has a filthy mouth.

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC



#JANINEINFANTEBOSCO


.•´ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong-willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment
 to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
¸.•´CONNECT WITH JANINE¸.•´



The Lawyer and the Tramp

 

 

Title: The Lawyer and the Tramp
A Chicago Syndicate Series Novel
Author: Soraya Naomi
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: The Final Wrap
Release Date: October 3, 2017
Blurb
The Lawyer
Carmine
Montesi is a killer disguised as a refined lawyer.
He’s a
loyal member of the notorious mafia – the Chicago Syndicate – and the boss just
happens to be his brother.
He has
wealth, influence, and sinful looks and is rejected by no woman.
Until the
moment feisty Eva ruins his New Year’s Eve, when one heated encounter starts an
illicit underworld game, placing them on opposite sides.
The Tramp
Eva Conley
is an escort.
She’s
working to make the money she desperately needs to pay an outstanding debt.
That is, until he gets her fired.
He’s an
ass.
She’s the
enemy.
They hate
each other from the first time they meet.
Carmine’s
only supposed to be her assignment.
And Eva’s
the one woman he isn’t allowed to fall for.
Because
neither of them can sleep with the enemy and make it out alive…
A
standalone novel from the Chicago Syndicate world.
From Soraya
Naomi, International Bestselling Author of For
Fallon
and For Luca.
Novel
Grounds Semi Annual Literary Awards 2014 winner of Best Breakout Novel For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate, #1).
Pre-order Links
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS
Author Bio

 

 

Apart from indulging in chocolate pastries much too often, Soraya Naomi is also an avid reader. She has a passionate obsession with the written word and reads many genres but favors intense, seductive, and provocative novels where the male character loves fiercely, without remorse or boundaries. She adores Dark Romances, Romantic Suspense, Historical Romances, New Adult, and PNR.
Her debut novel For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate, #1) was released on July 26, 2014. She’s honored that For Fallon won “Best Breakout Novel 2014” in the Novel Grounds Semi Annual Literary Awards.
Author Links