Teaser from Filthy Marcellos: Lucian #ComingSoon
As promised, I'm going to start sharing small snippets and teasers from my next series to be released, the first book in the Filthy Marcellos series, Lucian. Each book follows the dangerous life of a Cosa Nostra born and raised brother. The first book tells the story of Lucian, the oldest and adopted son of Antony and Cecelia Marcello and his heroine Jordyn.

So, here is a first sight teaser. Do enjoy ...


She was beautiful.
Not in the usual, pretty face, clear skin, and bright eyes kind of way. She had all of that going for her, too, but that wasn’t it. No, the woman behind the confessional curtain was beautiful in a heart stopping, stunning, make-your-lungs ache kind of way.
Lucian knew instantly she wasn’t a fulltime member of their congregation. After years of attending, he would have noticed someone like her at least once, if not a dozen times before. It would have certainly given him something better to stare at other than the goddamned ceiling and walls.
Waves of hair the color of ebony, with a thick streak of deep, maroon red behind her right ear trailed in curls down below her shoulders. The knee-length, pale colored curve hugging dress with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and pumps nearly matched the cream tone of her skin. Kneeling like she was didn’t hide the curve in her waist or the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress for a minute. As his gaze flicked over her, taking every inch of her in that he could in what felt like only seconds, he was sure there was ink below her dress. Damn, that mouth … Lips that were plump, and pink, forming an O of shock.
A mouth meant for kissing. One he thought might taste like hot candy. Probably as soft as silk. He bet she’d kiss like she owned him. Those lips of hers would take him straight to hell and back. Those thoughts, all of them, were what Lucian’s mind ran through almost immediately.
He didn’t fucking kiss, ever. Not once with all the dalliances of women he’d had in his twenty-seven years. Sure, he fucked hard. Loved to use his teeth and hands to get a female shaking, sweating, and begging for more. Liked it even better when she used hers, too. Lucian would take a woman however she wanted him to take her, but he wouldn’t kiss her.
Kissing was so very intimate. Emotional, even. While sex was carnal, kissing was passionate. It filled in an entirely different way. Lovers kissed. It was almost meant to claim someone, to keep them, taste them, and have them for only you in that one, private way.
There was an old, Italian proverb Lucian remembered to explain the motions of love. Il bacio sta all'amore come il lampo al tuono. The kiss is to love what lightning is to thunder. Italians called falling in that kind of love the colpo di fulmine—the thunderbolt. The feeling came like a strike of lightning so powerfully swift it would change the unsuspecting man right where he stood. Nothing could ever be the same. There was no preparing for it, either. Appropriate, then, how the two adages could overlap so perfectly to fit something as unattainable and frightening as true love.
But those things, all of those thoughts, trickled away when he stared into her eyes. Blue, like the sea, flecked with green specks that reminded him of emeralds. Clear as day and opened so fucking wide right back at him. Penetrating right through his chest to where his heart suddenly beat like a thousand hooves.
There was something behind that gaze, something he recognized. A lost look, the wanderer’s stare. As if maybe she hadn’t quite found home yet, or wherever it was she was supposed to be. Or perhaps, she just hadn’t found herself and the right people to give that sense of home to her.
Lucian knew that sight like nothing else because he stared at it every fucking day when he took a good look in the mirror.
It hurt to look at her, he realized. He didn’t have a clue why.
Still, Lucian stood there staring at her, the curtain fisted in his clenched hand, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help it. The tingling sensation spreading over his lax lips reminded him of his first urge—to kiss her, to know the taste of her and her mouth.
That was completely ridiculous. Absurd, even.
Who in the hell was she?
A name, he wanted her name.
Lucian wouldn’t get it. He couldn’t.
Women didn’t generally have that strong of an effect on him and he wasn’t about to let a pretty face start it up now.
B-bella, scusi,” Lucian stuttered, apologising for his intrusion and letting the curtain fall closed as his shaking fist returned to his side. “Shit.”
He’d even fumbled over his words for Christ’s sake. As confident and cocky of a man as he was, he couldn’t manage to get two words of Italian out properly. And he’d called her beautiful, like an idiot.
Turing on his heel, Lucian made a decision to get to the front of the church as quickly as he could and get the hell out.
Fuck confession.
Screw what his mother wanted.
Lucian couldn’t do this shit or deal with it today.
“Lucian, son?”
Vaguely, he heard Father Peter calling for him from behind, but Lucian didn’t even bother to wave the priest’s concern off. He simply continued his near jog until he was out of sight and smelling the air of New York City.
Gio’s deep tenor drew Lucian’s gaze up from his feet, the bright light of the outside blinding him. Why was his family still standing on the front steps of the church?
“That was too quick,” he heard his mother say. “Did something happen?”
“Gio,” Lucian said, the strain in his throat turning his youngest brother’s name rough and raspy. “Drive me home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gio agreed, shrugging. “Sure, man.” 



Lucian Marcello is aware of the expectations following him as the oldest son of one of North America’s most infamous Cosa Nostra Dons. Family in his world is more than blood and sharing a last name. It’s the honor, respect, business, and the life. Being a Capo is just a stepping stone until it’s time for him to take on the role of underboss but a chance meeting with her could be the one thing he’d risk it all for.

She is exactly what he didn’t know he was looking for.

Jordyn Reese spends her time trying to stay under the radar of a man who wouldn’t think twice about killing her. Unwillingly affiliated with a dangerous MC gang, her life is dominated by the men surrounding her and her future rests solely in how useful she can be for them. The last thing she needs is some Mafioso gaining her more unwanted attention from the club.

He is everything she should stay away from but can’t.

Notoriously violent when it comes to getting what he wants, Lucian will stop at nothing to make the target on Jordyn’s back disappear. But sometimes the worst threats are the ones you can’t see until it’s too late. The truth behind Lucian’s history is about to take center stage in more ways than one, and it’ll either save him … or kill him.

This world leaves everyone a little filthy.


Filthy Marcellos: La Cosa Nostra is not just a choice of regime and routine, it’s a culture. Born as mafia royalty, the Marcello brothers were raised ingrained with the beliefs and rules of what it meant to be a Mafioso prince. It is for life. Their status is considered a given right. They will always be these people. They will always be Marcellos.

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