Kink Aware

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Book Title: Kink Aware (Kiss of Leather 9)

Author: Morticia Knight

Publisher: Pride Publishing

Genre/s: Gay/Genderqueer BDSM Contemporary Romance

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 58 500 words/184 pages

It can be read as a standalone story, although part of a series.

If it is part of a series are the other books also available for review? Yes

Release Date: December 18, 2018

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Blurb

Working at Rogue Ink is a dream job for Cruella, especially being around the hunky co-owner, Ray. Even though the money isn’t great, the eye candy and Ray’s caring heart make it all worthwhile. When Cruella risks rejection by inviting Ray to be their partner for a shibari class at Kiss of Leather, they’re thrilled when Ray accepts.

Cruella’s invitation both excites and terrifies Ray. He wants Cruella, but does he also want to become more kink aware? Still, he could kick himself for not making a move yet on the sweet and beautiful Cruella, so maybe this is his chance. His protective instincts have gotten him into serious trouble before, so he’ll be sure not to make the same mistake with Cruella. They’ve made it clear they can take care of themself.

Cruella fears that Ray won’t accept their genderqueer identity and Ray aches to be the strong man Cruella needs. However, when Cruella’s dark past intrudes on their blissful present—Ray’s definition of strength might turn out to be harsher than Cruella is willing to accept.

Excerpt

I don’t know why I torture myself like this.

Cruella slid each delectable garment along the new arrivals rail in the Rags & Rhinestones vintage clothing store, almost drooling over the spectacular collection of goodies that Heath had picked up at an estate sale over the weekend. Their rather limited clothing allowance of the past couple months had gone to purchase rope for the shibari class. They sighed. It would be so worth it if Ray would let them tie him up in bed.

It certainly seemed to turn him on the other night when I suggested it.

If they were being honest, the idea had them rather hot too. When they had originally signed up for the class, the eroticism of the art hadn’t been the strongest attraction to learning shibari. At least not in terms of tying up a partner for sex. Their thought process had been more along the lines of the visual appeal, not necessarily using it as a prelude to, or as part of, making love.

They stepped behind a round rack to conceal their arousal as their mind wandered to Saturday morning when Ray had kneeled before them in the shower and sucked them to completion. While they’d never viewed themselves as someone who wanted to dominate a partner, they’d begun to consider that the desire to do so had been there all along but hadn’t been allowed to flourish.

That sure as hell was the case with Tucker.

Ray on his knees, Ray tied up and at their mercy, Ray beneath them as they fucked him into the mattress—all those scenarios had been playing on a loop in their head ever since they’d last seen him. They knew one thing for sure, when they got together with Ray that night to finally work on their class project, they were going to get a little rope action in bed if nothing else.

“Hey, Cruella. See anything you like?”

Cruella glanced up at the shop owner, Heath. “Hi, hon. Trust me, I see plenty I like.” Cruella let out another mournful sigh. “But I’m broke this month.”

Heath tsked, shaking his head. “I keep telling you, come work for me. You have a better sense of style than anyone who’s ever worked here, and you’d get an employee discount.”

Cruella barked out a laugh. “And never come home with a paycheck. No, they pay me well at Rogue, at least a couple more bucks an hour then I would get for that type of job. Especially since I’m not a manager or anything.”

“I’ll match what they’re giving you right now, with an eye toward making you a manager here eventually.”

Cruella blinked repeatedly as they stared at the tall, blond-haired cutie they’d come to know over the past few years of being a regular at the shop. Heath had teased them more than once about coming to work for him, but had never made such a serious offer. Cruella hadn’t been kidding, though, about never coming home with a paycheck. The killer clothes, shoes and handbags that regularly filled the shop to the brim would suck the cash right out of their pocket. Their buyer resistance was next to non-existent.

“You can’t be serious, hon. Why would you do that? And why do you need a manager?”

Heath draped an elbow over the rail and leaned against the rack. “So fucking serious, doll, you have no idea. Look, to begin with, most of the staff who come through here are either clueless and couldn’t give two shits about fashion or chose this job by wandering down the street until they spotted it and thought, ‘gee, this looks like a great place to steal from.’ I can’t even with these losers anymore.” Heath glanced around the shop, the few other customers in the large, rectangular space seemingly lost in their own perusing. He leaned in closer. “I love this shop. I’m flippin’ proud of what I built up over the past five years. But damn, honey. I haven’t had a social life since I turned twenty-two.” Heath huffed. “And I was only out and proud for two years before that, so this girl hasn’t had nearly as much fun as she should’ve by now.”

Cruella fingered the nineteen-twenties mauve velvet coat that they could totally picture themselves in and considered Heath’s words. “Wow, I guess I never thought about how much work it must take to run this place on your own. Although, the owners of Rogue seem to work nonstop. But at least there’s three of them to handle the responsibility.”

Heath furrowed his brow. “Is that little sweetheart who was kidnapped still doing okay?”

After the dust had settled from the horrible events surrounding Liam’s kidnapping, Cruella had been able to work out that Heath’s shop was where Neal had called the police from.

“He’s doing fine. I think in his case having the responsibility of a new business has done wonders at keeping him distracted and dwelling on what happened.” Cruella chuckled. “Of course, his fiancé keeps him more than distracted enough anyway.”

Heath smiled. “That’s good to hear.” Heath glanced over his shoulder as someone approached the register. “Listen, you think about what I said.” He squeezed Cruella’s arm. “I meant every word.”

Cruella let their finger run down the beaded edging of the coat until they found the price tag. They sucked in a sharp breath as they absorbed the amount of the vintage item. Two hundred and twenty-five dollars. They whimpered. I wonder how much of a discount?

About the Author

Author Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after. If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little hearts desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share—her adventures as a published author began in 2011. Since then, she’s been fortunate enough to have several books on bestseller lists along with titles receiving recognition in the Rainbow Book Awards, Divine Magazine and Love Romance Café.

Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the North Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men, she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.

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Meant For Me

Highly trained agent Mira Araceli can hold her own in the toughest situations, but not against her secret crush, Torin Carter. She’d fallen for her Hawkeye instructor years before. With his dark Irish good looks, unshakable integrity, and haunted blue eyes, he was everything she fantasized about. Unfortunately he never even glanced at her twice.

Torin’s intense hunger for the new recruit shocked him. But as his student, the fierce and beautiful Mira was off-limits. And she was far too young and innocent for his carnal demands.

Now, when Hawkeye pairs them together for an undercover assignment, she discovers the dangerous side he was hiding. Is she strong enough to fight for their second chance? Or will the beautiful storm that is Torin Carter destroy her completely?

Buy Meant For Me Today!

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About Sierra Cartwright

USA Today Best-Selling Author, Winner of the 2015 Best BDSM Book of the year (Bind), 2015 Reader’s Choice Best Erotic Romance (Bind), 2015 Golden Flogger (Crave), 2014 LASR Book of the Year award (In The Den), 2013 Best BDSM Book of the Year award (Over The Line), Golden Flogger Award 2015 nominee for her books Command, Bind, and Brand, Sierra was born in Manchester, England where she spent her early years traipsing through castles. After living in Denver for a number of years, the internationally acclaimed author now resides in Galveston, Texas. She loves the way history blends with Southern manners (being called “sugar” is an experience unto itself).

She invites you to join her on a sensual journey where the limits are explored and expanded.

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Simban

A broken cyborg. A dying elf. Can they save each other before it’s too late?

As the first cyborg ever created, the Ardak’s experiments left Simban broken and without hope. Barely able to control his body or his speech, he sets off into the wilderness to avoid the first post-invasion winter solstice celebration. But when he finds a dying elf, he realizes that he might have found a kindred spirit, and her time is running out.

Irielle fled to the mountains to avoid the Ardaks. Plagued by flashbacks of when she was captured as their prisoner and a horrible pain in her chest that’s growing worse, the only thing she has left to do is die alone in the icy snow. But when a certain cyborg finds her, she suddenly has reason to hope. Until the Ardaks make an unexpected appearance.

Can these two broken beings heal each other? Join Simban and Irielle in a race against time and the Ardaks to find out.

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About Immortal Angel

Immortal Angel is always writing. Her specialty? Science fiction / fantasy romances that drop readers into a new world and leave them hanging on until the very end.

Growing up on sci-fi, fantasy, and romance; she can’t help but weave these elements into her stories. Which, luckily for her readers, results in a whole lot of hot human men, supernatural males, and some very sexy aliens.

Immortal Angel loves to hear from her readers, and of course, she wants to hear from you! Feel free to contact her by any of the methods below:

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The Only Choice

 
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The Only Choice
by B.L. Olson
 
99 cent Pre-Order! Coming January 24th!
AMAZON
 
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 
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“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?” My four-year-old daughter asks me.
 
The dreaded question that no single mother ever wants to hear, that your child is curious about why you are only half of a whole family. I knew the day would come when she would ask about her father, but I still wasn’t prepared.
 
My daughter will forever be my only choice. However, Bo, the man I kept in the dark about fathering a daughter, is pushing his way back into my – no – our life. Now, I will have to guard both our hearts while I allow him to get to know the daughter that I mistakenly kept him from. But now I have a question for him.
 
Will she be his only choice? 
 
 
 
 
 
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About the Author
 
Author B.L. Olson is a land mermaid forever swimming in the constant PNW rain. She drinks endless amounts of water and coffee, eats pizza for every meal, and loves reading books that include a hot alpha male and a kick ass heroine. 
 
On top of writing the characters that never cease to whisper in her ear, she is also a psychology student pursuing her BS and MS degrees.
 
If life isn’t hellish busy and packed full of the things you love, than are you truly living?



 
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Full O’Festive Spirits

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Book Title: Full O’Festive Spirits
Author: Zakarrie Clarke
Publisher: Self-published
Genre/s: Contemporary romance
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 40 000 words
Release Date: December 16, 2018
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Blurb
Gabriel is staggered, upon overhearing two old dears declare that only 21 shopping days remain ’til Christmas. He hadn’t even noticed that December had dawned, far too busy being grim ‘n’ grumpy to be bothered. This, after losing his job—again—leaving him too fed-up of enforced thriftiness to differentiate days that did not. Let alone recall the date on the calen— A thought that sends Gabriel scuttling off the bus, in a belated bid to secure his favourite part of the festive season…an advent calendar. Ifthey have any left. Upon clattering into the nearest shop, he finds himself coshed by themost splendid sight he e’er did see. A Christmas Feast for the eyeballs so sublime, it seemed—for a hectic heartbeat—that they’d all come at once. As the latter was a feat so improbable in said company, they definitely had not.

Dylan is much dismayed by the ramshackle litter of limbs and belongings that trips into the off-license, halfway through his shift. It being way too early for the drunk and determinedly irritating to come staggering in. In the wake of arriving too late to audition for a role he’d set his heart on, Dylan is no mood to deal with a human hatstand—doe-eyed and demented—intent upon purchasing a bloody advent calendar. On the third of December. For himself. Strewth. Could fate have possibly dumped a less welcome portent of festivities doomed to disaster on the doorstep?

 

ExcerptDylan’s trip down misery lane was rudely interrupted by the teeth-gritting jangle of the bell that heralded the entrance of each customer. Reason enough to want to bolt the bloody door to ensure that no one could set the damn thing off.

“Oh, bugger…”

Christ, no. It was way too early for the pissed-up and perennially irritating to start staggering in. Dylan glared at the ramshackle onslaught of limbs and belongings that clattered into the shop. This, with a godawful racket reminiscent of a one-man band, created by what appeared to be: one person, a single guitar, and some plastic bags. The latter were either full of saucepan lids, tambourines and stray cats…or, the customer could cause chaos in a broom cupboard. On his own. Neither of which boded well for the duration. He would no doubt browse for fifteen minutes, knock Dylan’s painstaking display of colour coordinated decorations off the shelf—then insist on arguing about fuck-all—before finally purchasing a cheap lighter, some Rizzla papers and a Snickers bar.

Dylan had, clearly, been working in an off-license far too long. This had been true about an hour into his first shift, despite the fifteen percent staff reduction that had clinched the deal in the first place. Dylan watched, incredulous, as the litter of limbs and baggage rearranged itself into something that resembled a human figure. Albeit, a far too…extravagant one. Then, he lifted his head.

How simple that sounded. The customer’s face had formerly been obscured by the brim of his hat; a battered black trilby, barely a shade darker than eyes as bottomless as they were huge. Framed by excessive eyelashes and skin so pale, he could have played Pierrot, sans make-up. A fact not helped by lips so wind-chapped, they looked kiss-bitten. Or, he’d earned enough to buy more than a packet of bloody Rizzla and a Snickers in the very recent past. If he hadn’t already blown it on his next fix. Get a grip. Who the hell would cart a guitar around with them, while out pulling punters?Punters, f’fucksakes?

“Hiya.” His little-boy-lost features lit up in a smile as startling as his voice; coming from a body comprised of far too many corners. Dylan had expected clipped cockney tones or a harsh estuary drawl. The ‘hiya’ had scarce classified as a word, it had been but a wisp of melody. This particular nugget of nonsense was followed by the belated awareness that Dylan was standing like a lemon, dumbstruck. Ensnared in the dark spotlight of a gaze akin to a steel-jaw trap…

About the Author 

After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about for far too long, Zakarrie settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. ’Twas here that her castaway dreams re-surfaced and she began to write; stories that are, in truth, better at being her than she’s ever been. Her one hope now is that someone, somewhere, will enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she adores writing them.

 
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Christmas Joy

Christmas Joy (Sweet Christmas Series Book 4)
 
Samantha Jacobey
 
Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance
 
Lavish Publishing
 
142 pages

 

 

 

Life isn’t always sweet, even for girls called Candy.
Candice Parker married Gerald Ford on Christmas Eve two years ago following a massive blizzard. The year before that her family was left homeless when a fire burned their apartments to the ground. Fortunately, fireman Gary had been on call and led the team that rescued Lanelle and Dakota from the blaze.
Last year it all came to a head when Caroline joined their household as the nanny and housekeeper when she revealed the fire had been arson. Following the discovery, a sinister plot unfolded that almost killed them all.
To say Candy is dreading the arrival of this typically happy holiday would be an understatement.
However, she does have one thing going for her this year. Gary has convinced her to adopt rather than try for a baby of their own and a new addition will join their family just in time to change Candy’s view of Christmas forever.
Pushing through her self-doubts, Candy must embrace the desire within her to become Joylana’s mother and champion for life, but will she have the strength to be the mom she wants to be after all the hardships she and Daks have faced in the past?
 

 

 

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Sweet Christmas Series: 
 
Read as a standalone or enjoy the whole series
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Christmas Candy (Sweet Christmas Series Book 1) 
 
Amazon Universal Link: http://geni.us/eC2V
 
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Christmas Eve (Sweet Christmas Series Book 2)
 
Amazon Universal Link: http://geni.us/bBeZu
 
❄️ ✶ ❄️ ✶ ❄️ ✮ ❄️ ✶
 
 
Christmas Carol (Sweet Christmas Series Book 3)
 
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Christmas Joy (Sweet Christmas Series Book 4)
 
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Anyone who knows me could tell you, I am a friendly kind of person, never met a stranger and take up conversations anywhere at any time. I work hard, and my mind never seems to shut down, as I wake up often in the middle of the night with ideas pouring out and demanding to be dealt with. Of course that means much of my books were written in the middle of the night.
I grew up and still live in the great state of Texas where everything is bigger, where we have warm weather and a central location. I love my state, my town, and my family, which includes my four sons, my significant other, and many friends as well.
I have thoroughly enjoyed writing the books that are currently available and hope you will enjoy reading them just as much. And of course, there will be many more stories to come.

 

Parrish

 

.•´✶PARRISH¸.•´✶

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Available for preorder at universal link: https://bit.ly/2S4WC6Z

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.•´✶COVER CREDITS¸.•´✶

Cover Designer: Jennifer Bosco Cover Design

Models:  Fred DiBella and Tiffany Marie

Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

#propertyofparrishforever #jackandreina #brandedbythebulldog

.•´✶Blurb.•´✶

It’s not a wicked world that drives a man to sin, it’s a deranged mind. Baptized in dirty water by Satan himself, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the good fight, searching for the light in the darkness of insanity. Now, the light I’ve basked in for so long is finally dimming and the time has come for me to take my final bow before the curtain closes on my sanity.

After making a deal with the district attorney and providing my club with full immunity for the crimes we’ve committed, I have twenty-four hours to remind my wife, Reina, why she fell in love with a bastard like me before I turn myself in and break her heart.

But twenty-four hours isn’t enough.
Not for me and certainly not for the Devil.

Tragedy strikes, and my world implodes. It’s lights out for Jack and Reina and a man can’t survive without his sunshine. Engulfed in darkness, consumed by the crazy, I’m a weapon of mass destruction, ready to wreak havoc on the wicked world.
Word to the wise—proceed with caution, motherf*ckers.
The Bulldog is back!

.•´✶Excerpt•´✶

© Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

“I didn’t realize you would be joining us today, Mrs. Parrish,” the district attorney, Matt Ritzer, says, tearing his eyes away from me to glance thoughtfully at my wife. Turning my head, I watch Reina lift her head and stare at the man looking to lock me up and throw away the key. Without responding, she tucks a golden strand of hair behind her ear and for a split second I forget we’re in a room full of attorneys and federal agents. I forget we’re teetering on the edge of a sentence and imagine fisting those locks as I bend her over the table and fuck her raw.
Raw and hard.
Wild and reckless.
Like a ruthless savage, branding her over and over so that long after those iron bars close in on me, Sunshine feels me between her legs.
“I go wherever he goes,” she says calmly, forcing me back to reality. Without looking at me, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Until you take him away from me and I no longer can.”
To the room full of suits, her voice is strong—her words cunning but I hear the despair laced with every syllable and I feel her hand slightly tremble against mine. It forces my gaze downward. Dripping in faded ink and silver rings, my fingers intertwine with hers. Pale, dainty and perfectly manicured—that’s my Sunshine.
The beacon of light in my dark and cruel world.
Lifting my head, the voices around us fade and I just stare at her profile, cementing her delicate features to my failing mind. I remember the first time I saw her face, the first time she acknowledged my existence. Her dull eyes called to me, beckoning me to dig deeper and discover the heart and soul of their owner.
Her soul was broken, that I knew but, her heart—I never expected it to be as generous as it’s been and I sure as fuck never thought I’d be the bastard she gave it to. She saved me the trouble of stealing it because come hell or high water I would’ve taken it, anyway.
I’m selfish like that.
Always taking what I don’t deserve.
Dirtyin’ up the clean.
Tainting the pure.
Corrupting the innocent.
Playing God with everyone who comes into my life. Reina never stood a chance with me as her acting messiah but, fuck if I don’t love her. For every bit of wrong I’ve done in my life, I must’ve done something right for her to stick with me.
You can say it’s because she loves me but, I’m no fool and I’ve lived enough life to know love isn’t always enough. Another woman would’ve run for the fucking hills. Another woman would’ve committed my mentally deranged ass. And another woman wouldn’t be sitting next to me holding my hand as I break her heart and destroy our lives all for the sake of brotherhood.
It’s more than love.
It’s salvation.
It’s knowing you were born to complete the other half of someone. It’s finding the remedy to heal your fractured soul, to piece together the broken parts and make them whole.
“There’s always visitation,” my lawyer whispers to her. That’s when she breaks her stare with the district attorney and turns her eyes to me. I watch them fill with tears and I lean into her, lifting my free hand to her face. I pull her closer, touch her forehead to mine and give her what she needs to hear.
“You,” I murmur, taking us back to the beginning.
Back to basics when two words defined a lifetime.
After a beat, she nods slightly and returns the gift, giving me what I need to serve my impending sentence.
“Me,” she assures.
Always her.
Clearing his throat, Ritzer commands my attention. Releasing a growl, I pull back and slice my gaze to the man sitting across from me.
“We’ve gone over the deal legal counsel has proposed and are willing to negotiate the terms,” he says, sliding a stack of papers across the mahogany table. Before I can lift a finger, my lawyer reaches over and takes the proposal.
Still holding Reina’s hand, I lean back in my chair and watch intently as my five hundred dollar an hour lawyer skims the deal.
“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.
Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…
The voice of my maker calls in the distance.
You’re fucked Parrish.
“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear.  “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.
Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.
Every dog has its day, Bulldog.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.
“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.
Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.
Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.

Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby, she’s carrying won’t know its grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.
I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god will listen that while I’m alone, rotting in my cell my mind will allow me to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.
You’re going to lose her, Parrish.
She’ll never wait.
“Ten years,” my lawyer counters. “Or we go to trial and leave it up to a jury to decide.”
“That’s fine with me,” t Ritzer fires back. “We take it to court and your client can wind up doing anywhere between fifteen to life.”
“Jack,” Reina whispers, reaching for my face. “Are you with me?” she questions, searching my eyes for a sign that I haven’t drifted over to the darkness.
“I’m with you,” I rasp, wrapping my hands around her wrists.
“Your client is being charged with murder in the first degree. Now, we’re being generous here. The deal is fifteen years and full immunity for the club.”
Prying Reina’s hands off me, I glare at the suits sitting across from me.
“Do I need to remind you of my client’s medical condition?”
When in doubt, pull the crazy card.
“Twelve years, full immunity for the club and his private doctors are allowed to treat him inside,” Holden continues.
Mulling it over, the Ritzer leans back in his chair, quietly conferring with the two assholes sitting on either side of him. Knowing these men hold my fate in their hands is enough to get my blood boiling and the wheels turning inside my deranged head. I envision inflicting pain on them and tearing their world apart. I want their wives to cry at night and their kids to wonder when and if they’ll ever see their fathers again.
Once a fucking sinner, always a sinner.
“Thirteen years and full immunity for the club. As far as his medical treatment goes that will be up to the warden to decide. However, I assure you, Mr. Parrish will be treated for his condition.”
Thirteen years is better than fifteen and I turn my gaze toward my lawyer, waiting for him to agree or disagree. He looks at me then Reina and back to me, giving me a slight nod.
“Take the deal,” he says.
Thirteen fucking years.
One hundred and fifty-six months.
Four thousand, seven hundred and forty-five days.
Turning once more to my wife, I brush her hair away from her eyes and watch as she lifts her tear stained face.
This woman. This beautiful woman I never deserved, saved me. Day after day, night after night, she provided me with a steady place I could let go of my defenses. When the darkness consumed me, she brought the sunshine. Part of me wonders if she regrets it. If she looks at me and sees all the consequences loving me has brought to her life. After all, doesn’t every good woman eventually tire of giving their love to someone who does nothing but chip away at their spirit. It’s only a matter of time before my good woman realizes she was drowning trying to save a man who only kept pushing her head under the water with every bad decision he made.
“We’ll make it work,” she assures.

.•´✶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¸.•´✶

Website: http://www.janineinfantebosco.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineboscoauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanineBosco

Janine’s Land of Temptations Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1730045370558131/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/grassking205/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1FJa8S3
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/29Dfru4
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Bookbub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1

 

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