The blood of
their enemies coats the leather of their cuts and a trail of bodies lie in
their wake, but the Forsaken Motorcycle Club isn't done yet. Carlo Mancuso
still needs to pay for his sins. Nobody knows that more than Ian Buckley, the
Treasurer for Forsaken.
Ian prefers his
pleasure mixed with pain and he's only ever at peace when he's doling out
justice. Convinced that he's too unstable and sadistic to take an old lady, he
keeps his trysts, like all of his relationships, brief and anonymous. But with
his club at war, and the stakes being so personal, Ian's feeling the events
around him more deeply than he expects.
Mindy Mercer is
the sweet daughter of Fort Bragg’s most respectable cop. At least that’s how
the town sees her. Very few people know the Mindy who hides her tracks and
battles her cravings by lying to everyone around her. She thinks she has
control of her addiction until she suffers an attack that leaves her searching
for a way out of her own personal hell.
Mindy has never
been more desperately in need of a savior and Ian has never seen a more
beautifully destroyed creature in his life. Their attraction is intense, but
their damage is extreme. Some scars never heal, and some people never get
better.
Love is never
more painful than when it can kill you.“I didn’t even
say anything.”
“Didn’t have to.”
He stops at the deck, just feet from the front door. I have to back up a step
to keep from literally stepping on his toes. “You get away with a lot with me
because of shit you don’t even understand. I’ll tolerate whatever crap you want
to throw my way as long as you remember your place with the club and with my
brother.”
“I don’t
understand.” I feel like I’ve been dropped into the conversation halfway
through because I’m pretty much lost now.
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“He likes you,”
is his blunt explanation. When my eyebrows pull together in confusion he shakes
his head and purses his lips like he’s thinking about what he wants to say.
“More than likes you. Don’t take it for granted and don’t fuck it up. He chose
you and I respect that, but make no mistake about it, babe. You do him dirty
and you’ll answer to me.” I narrow my eyes and he leans in closer. His rank
breath washes over my face.
“I won’t hesitate
to slit your fucking throat if you fuck my brother over.”
I tilt my chin
up, closer to his ear and lean in so we’re chest to chest. He’s taller than me
by several inches, but I don’t care. He’s going to hear what I have to say and
that’s all that matters.
“Threatening
somebody with death only works if they’re afraid of dying.” I say the words
slowly and with purpose, meaning every single one. If he wanted to scare me, he
should have threatened to take away something that matters to me—like Ian.
JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories-- and everything has at least a splash of romance.
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