Pre-order: Breathless & Bloodstained #ComingSoon #MafiaRomance


Breathless & Bloodstained is now on Pre-Order!

I have decided to put all of my titles back in Kindle Unlimited, so you will only find B & B and the other War titles on Amazon now, except Paperback.

Breathless & Bloodstained releases March 7th.

Find Breathless on Amazon.

Blurb:

No war is won without a few bloodstains. 

Tommas Rossi wants what belongs to him—he wants it bad. At thirty-years-old, he’s on course to become the youngest boss in the Chicago Outfit’s history. He just has to make it to the end alive. But being the boss of the Outfit means nothing to Tommas if a certain blue-eyed girl isn’t standing with him when the city finally crumbles. The crown is so close he can taste it. Blood paves his way. Every king needs a queen, but he doesn’t know how to get his anymore. 

Abriella Trentini has always been the rebel. She’s quicker than most men, dangerous when she wants something, and more careful than anyone knows. Her relationship with Tommas Rossi has been a dangerous game she loved to play, but someone always has to lose. With choices to make, the kind that determines who will live and who will die, Abriella doesn’t know what to do. This should have been easy, but nothing ever is, and her time to choose is running out. 

So much blood has spilled for this. The Outfit is in shambles, grieving and angry. The families just want peace. No one knows who will take the Chicago throne because too many men have a stake in this game. In wars like these, no one will let it go easily. 

They’ll be bloodstained until the very bitter end. 

And left breathless in the devastation of it all. 

Has it been worth it? 
Musical Inspiration
Enjoy the love.

--Kris


ARC signups for Breathless & Bloodstained! #MafiaRomance #ComingSoon
Use the form below to signup for an ARC of Breathless & Bloodstained.

Or, use the direct link here:
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/17u90xkrpOiHtuy5r7sgpJy_Qk8AzBgBnK4eBsfTlmuw/viewform

Hugs.

--Kris


Cover Reveal: Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War, 4) #MafiaRomance

Once again, Jay Aheer has blown it out of the park with the cover for Breathless & Bloodstained. She gave me something edgy and beautiful. It perfectly encompasses the story, and Abriella. 

Thanks, Jay! 

Enjoy the pretties. 

And, you can add Breathless here to your Goodreads TBR

Many, many thanks to Indie Sage and their wonderful bloggers for helping to share this cover today. 

--Kris








 ***


Where The Heart Belongs by Iyana Jenna #NewRelease #Romance
Released as a part of Forbidden Love line from Torquere Press, Where the Heart Belongs tells the story of two brothers Zach and Drew with their unnatural relationship. When something terrible happens to Zach, an African American FBI Agent, Eugene Harris comes into the picture adding more complications. This is #1 of the Triangle Series.

wheretheheartbelongs1400


Where the Heart Belongs

By: Iyana Jenna
Published By: Torquere Press
Published: Feb 03, 2016
Word Count: 8,200
Heat Index

Blurb
His brother slash boyfriend, Drew is leaving him. It makes Zach unaware of his surrounding and a hate-crime psycho takes him off guard. He is kidnapped and tortured. Zach is saved by the FBI and as a surviving witness, he is brought to stay with FBI Agent Eugene Harris.

Gradually, Eugene gets to know Zach. He should have been disgusted, but instead, all he wants is comfort Zach.

Will Zach accept that Drew is not coming back? Will Eugene finally have the gut to tell Zach how he feels?

Excerpt
“Come with me, Zach.”

"Hush..." Zach whispered. He wanted to treasure the moment as much as he could but it was him who pulled back first. “Let’s go,” he said harshly. “You will miss your bus.” His heart bled at how Drew stared at him in confusion, hurt in his eyes. But he knew he had to let go now or he would never be able to.

He helped Drew with his bags and grasped Drew’s jacket sleeve, hugging him tight and kissing him again, not caring who might be watching. Drew clung onto him just like he used to during those cold nights whenever they were alone in a motel room, and squeezed him for the last time, pulling back. Their eyes met.

“I’ll come back for you.”

Long after the bus was gone, Zach was still standing at the bus station, his heart heavy. Drew was his brother and his lover. Zach realized the unnatural nature of their relationship, but he couldn't bring himself to care. They only had each other in their lives.

Zach remembered one night. He had been nine at that time and Drew had been five. Rain had been pouring down the Earth for like hours now but there was no sign of stopping from the sound of it. Zach shot a wary gaze to the wide window and the thin lacey curtains covering it—a useless thing in his humble opinion—they could not stop him and Drew from staring right through the rain, let alone from the thunder and lightning that cracked almost every five minutes.

Alone only with little Drew in their small apartment—their father had yet to return, Zach did not dare shut his eyes even for a second. Not in this weather. Not when closing his eyes meant letting Drew out of his sight, although the kid was curled up right here with him, never far from his embrace.

BUY LINKS
Torquere ~ Amazon ~ All Romance Ebooks ~ Bookstrand ~ Smashwords
I Wish I Wrote The Way I Thought - Benedict Smith #Poetry
Source: Facebook
Author: Benedict Smith


When my spouse reminds me of why I picked him ...
My spouse is known only by D when I talk about him. I don't give his full name, or his nickname. In fact, I've probably talked about my kids and given more information about my 3 young sons than I have about my hubby.

D is really private, and so, I respect his desire to be private by keeping him vague and unknown in my writings and discussions. But for reference, his name does start with "D" and that is why I call him D.

In real life, D is loud. He's the life of the party, he's a trickster, and he loves to joke. He can never stay still or quiet for long, he likes noise and chaos. He is usually the loudest at a dinner, and the center of attention for his easy-going nature and approachable personality. Our house, with three boys, three dogs, and one cat certainly fills his need for the craziness.

And when you add in my special brand of craziness to it all, he's in heaven.

D is also the exact opposite of me. I am quiet, reserved, a loner, creative, and a little insane. I don't like people, I don't enjoy going to gatherings or parties, and I am not physically expressive with my happiness, sadness, or anything in between. You would be lucky to get more than a few words out of me at a dinner, seriously. And it's not me being rude, it is simply my personality.

I do better alone, in a corner, reading, writing, or doing something that involves being inside my head and not out in the world, present and ready to be in the present.

I just don't.

Somehow, him and I work.

Somehow.

And more times than people would think, I find myself wondering how my spouse and I ever got together. How did we make it work? How does he put up with someone who would rather sit across the room, typing on a computer, while he chats away to ... well, himself when I'm working.

Then the moments come around, every so often, where my hubby reminds me in a simple way that I picked him, and my personality was something he needed. Someone quiet, someone who didn't mind his loudness and his own craziness.

Last week, while we were getting our oldest son, who is six, ready for school, our son stopped us both with a simple sentence. It was one of those rare mornings where my hubby actually had the day off through the week and was able to be there to drive our son down to the bus.

My son was helping his father pack his hockey bag when he said, "Mom, I love Todd."

For the sake of this post, I am using the name Todd. It is not the name my son used, but it is the one I will use.

I was getting his snowpants ready for him to put on, and froze.

Todd is a little boy, the same age as my son, who is in the same kindergarten class as him. They're friends, like most of the kids in the class. My son has never talked much about the kids in his class, he's just not the type. He's like me, quiet, aloof, and not very approachable on the outside. My son picks a couple of people to keep close, and those are his "friends".

So when he quietly but surely said "Mom, I love Todd", it stunned me for a second. I quickly looked to my spouse, wondering what he would say. Our six-year-old son was saying he loved another boy. And while it could be just a friendly thing, the same way he tells me he loves me before he goes to bed, it's still the fact he is saying it.

We have three sons. I have been adamant that words like "fag, faggot" and any other derogatory terms not be used around them, but especially in my house. I never wanted my sons to feel like if they were gay, that they would need to hide it from us as they grew up.

But I worried.

In that one second, while I looked to my spouse, I worried he might say something seemingly innocent to our son, something that no one would think much about, but might damage the trust I had slowly started to build with him by keeping fear of judgement away.

I worried he might say, "Boys don't love other boys."

Or, "He's a friend, right? We don't love friends."

Something ... anything.

I worried.

I shouldn't have. D didn't look up from the bag as he said, "Todd is in your class, right?"

My son said, "Yes."

D smiled. "That's great that you love him, Ro."

Just like that, I started to breathe again. I asked my son about Todd before my hubby shuffled him out of the house to catch the bus in time.

And he reminded me at the same time, with one sentence, why I picked him, why he's good for me, and why we work despite how incredibly different we are when standing side by side. He reminded me of why he is often my muse when my writing fails me, and I am looking for a new hero to write. There are more of his characteristics in my heroes than I care to admit. If he read a single book of mine, he would probably feel like he was looking into a personality or characteristic mirror.

As for my son, he came home the next day without saying a word about the boy in his class. I don't know about who or what he'll grow up to be.

But I have every bit of faith in my spouse that my son, and our other boys, will never feel unloved or judged by their father.

We're not raising little boys--we're raising good men.

At least, we're trying.

--Kris
Teaser: Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War, 4) #MafiaRomance - Coming Soon!
I'm sharing another teaser from Breathless & Bloodstained today! The cover reveal for the final War novel is just a week away. I can't wait to share the awesome cover that Jay Aheer designed for Breathless. It encompasses all the vivid, crazy, strong strengths of Abriella's character. And I love it.

Just three more weeks to release! I will be putting up the ARC form for signups VERY soon.

For now ... enjoy a small snippet of Tommas, and his very best friend, Damian. ;)

Many hugs.

--Kris

***

“Ten minutes,” Damian said, looking down at his watch.

Tommas still checked the time on the dashboard even knowing that his cousin was right. “It’s been a rough year, man.”

Damian’s gaze drifted from Tommas in the driver’s seat, to the windy, quiet Chicago street outside of the car. “It has been, you’re right.”

“I’ll be happy to put an end to it all.”

“Have you seen or talked to Abriella at all?” Damian asked.

“No,” Tommas answered, offering little else.

The nagging anxiety in his chest refused to relent whenever he thought about his girl, however. It bothered him more than he could explain that Abriella hadn’t contacted him since the last time they spoke.

Sure, he’d told her that they needed to keep a safe distance for obvious reasons, but the thing about Abriella was that she didn’t follow the rules very well.

Still, no calls.

Concerned about his lover, but knowing there wasn’t much he could do but wait, Tommas decided to let it all work out on its own. He didn’t have a choice either way.

“Tommy?”

“What?”

Damian sighed, shooting his cousin a look from the side. “You know it doesn’t have to go down like this, right? You don’t have to do it this way, man.”

“Conceding isn’t always losing,” Tommas murmured. “Sometimes, smart men have to play a game in such a way that conceding is the only possible option in the end. It’s what Joel wants, anyway. For me to concede to this arrangement. He’s looking for that, and he must have a reason for it. It’s a safer way to win right now, D. Nothing more.”

“And what about in a few months?”

“What about it?”

“When Joel decides he’s tired of having the city split into two organizations, or when he tries another bomb episode on you again. What if he wins then, huh?”

Tommas smiled, and waved his cousin’s concerns off. “You should learn to trust me more.”

“I’m trying really hard, but you make it difficult when you go on to do something like this with Joel Trentini, Tommas.”

“Trust,” Tommas repeated. “It will take you everywhere with me.”

“Easy for you to say, Tommy.”

“I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s the whole problem. I have no idea what you’re doing.”

“You don’t need to,” Tommas replied quietly.

Damian rubbed at his forehead, obviously tired and over the conversation. “What have you been doing these last couple of weeks, anyway?”

Planning.

Considering.

Deciding.

“Making the right choice,” Tommas settled on saying. “Even if that choice isn’t what everyone else might choose or want to see happen. Sometimes the right decision is often the hardest and most difficult.”

And bloody, he added silently.

“I hope, for everyone’s sake, that you’re right in doing this with Joel,” Damian said.

“But you don’t think I am.”

“No, I think you’re giving up, and you’re so much fucking better than that, Tommas.”

Deep Dream by @ElodieParkes - New Release #ParanormalRomance

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today to celebrate my new release with Hot Ink Press, erotic paranormal romance, 'Deep Dream.'

This story concept was originally formed for a proposed series. Now it has been completed revised, lengthened, and re-edited for Hot Ink Press.

Essentially a vampire erotic romance, it also has threads of magic, and taking place in New Orleans, it's set in a music club/rock club, the mysterious StarZ.

Ethan Ross, the vampire hero, has been in New Orleans since his girlfriend and sire, dumped him in 1922. He's used to the weird undercurrents of the city and now works in StarZ that caters to the supernatural folks. His band, Deep Dream, play there. He's tasked with taking care of the 'ordinary humans' that arrive in the club and he does this happily ...

With a broken heart to heal Ethan swore off love long ago ... that is until starry eyed Anna Prideaux wanders into his life. 
Then sparks start to fly ...

Read an excerpt

 She watched him
disappear into the gloom. Anna stood and scooped her phone from the counter.
She glanced around to check who might be watching her. When it looked like no
one was, she quickly followed Marcus. She quickened her pace as she lost sight
of him in the swirling mist at the back of the club’s main room. Marcus
disappeared.

When she reached where she’d last seen him a shiver spiked
up her back. The mist was freezing cold, the air thick with potent. Anna turned
away as a weird fear gripped her. She practically ran back to the bar, weaving
through the groups of patrons, and muttering, “Sorry,” as she knocked into one,
splashed the drink from the glass of another, until she stood in front of
Ethan.

His gaze mesmerized her. She wasn’t even sure she actually
heard his voice, but somehow he soothed her.

“Anna, it’s time you went home now. You want to go home. You
have work to do transcribing the interview with the band. Everything’s fine.”

She smiled at him. “I’m off now. Thank you for answering my
questions. Thank Marcus for me. He left.” She gestured toward where she’d run
from. A flutter of fear rose in her stomach and then Ethan was leaning forward,
his blue eyes capturing her so that she dreamily froze to soak up his low
voiced words.

“Goodnight, Anna.”
She
left the club happily, a faraway feeling carrying her along ...
©Elodie Parkes Hot Ink Press 2016


About Elodie
I’m a writer who is in love with happy endings. Currently based in the UK but thinking about joining the next flock of birds I see heading south for the winter.
I love: music, art, flowers, trees, the ocean...
I work with antiques by day and words by night.
Like a vampire, darkness is my friend, that’s when the silence is only broken by an occasional hoot of owls in the woodlands opposite my current home, and I write.
Find me:

Wednesday Quote
Source: Facebook
Original Source: Unknown

Review: The White Iris by Susanne Matthews - #NewRelease @jandsmatt
The White Iris by Susanne Matthews
Book Three in The Harvester Series

My Review: 

Julie Swift, virologist for the CDC, is a woman who hides her pain in her constant need for routines, and her analytical views on every single thing. She is smart, and she is exactly what Trevor Clark and his FBI task force needs to finally catch the Prophet. Unfortunately, the shared past between Julie and Trevor, one that left them both heartbroken with an ended engagement, might be one huge roadblock in the final path to ending the Prophet and his reign. Time is quickly running out for everyone.

The White Iris takes the reader on the final journey of the cult and the people who are desperately trying to take it down. Time is running out to stop the Prophet before he finally begins opening his "plagues" on the world to rid it of sinners. Bring together characters like Trevor and Julie, plus the majority of the gang from the previous two books, and you've got one heck of a tale. 

I would say the majority of this story was suspense and thriller. The romance was touched on throughout, especially with the volatile history between Julie and Trevor, but it really picked up around 60-70 percent. I think all in all, that made for a good story that let me focus on the answers I have been demanding for throughout this whole series. Julie and Trevor were quite literally, the icing on the cake. 

After talking to Mrs. Matthews about this series, I'm not entirely sure this is the final book. While the ending stayed open for certain aspects, and left me with some questions, other things ended with a final bang that gave me a great deal of closure to this series. 

So either way, I will look for more and be satisfied with what I was given. Like the rest of the series, The White Irish is well-written, brilliantly crafted, and a page-turner that is worth every star it can be given. Five stars all the way. 

Thank you, Susanne, for one of the best series I have had the pleasure of reading. 

*** 

Add The White Iris to your Goodreads TBR. 
Find The White Iris on the following vendors: 
Amazon | Crimson Romance | B & N


Blurb:

Time’s running out for Special Agent Trevor Clark and the FBI task force.

No closer to discovering the Prophet’s secret identity. Trevor channels all of his energy into re-examining the clues to the Great Burning. As the Prophet and his new harvester make good on the second plague and the body count escalates, Trevor is convinced they will be facing a biological threat. In uncharted territory, he looks to the CDC and virologist Dr. Julie Swift for answers, but their past relationship won’t make it easy to work with her.


Two years ago, Julie ended their engagement after what she saw as Trevor’s betrayal. Unable to move on, Julie has focused her efforts on her career. Now, faced with the possibility of the greatest epidemic since the Spanish flu, she has to put her faith and her safety, as well as that of countless others into the hands of a man she doesn’t trust. Can they set aside their differences to stop the prophet, and in doing so, will they find the love they lost?


Excerpt: 

As soon as they were alone, Julie’s bravado slipped. The smell of his aftershave filled the elevator, reminding her treacherous body of other times. She folded her arms across her chest, knowing he couldn’t see her puckered nipples under the lab coat, but needing to close herself off from him and all the emotions flooding her.
“I know you’re mad at me, Julie, and you have every right to be. This is probably the last thing you want to do right now, but it’s important,” Trevor said, his voice bouncing off the mirrored walls.
Of course it is. The job comes first. It always has, and it always will.
Ellie was right. If Julie had seen him two years ago, after she’d sent back the ring, she could’ve been happy by now—might even have fallen in love again and started a family. Dr. Dalton Rush, a visiting oncogenomics expert from the White Iris Foundation, had asked her to consider working with him on a joint virology-oncology project. The thought of working on a cure for something instead of a preemptive measure appealed to her, but it would mean leaving Atlanta for Nevada. Maybe it was time to bite the bullet and accept his offer. If this Prophet nutcase did deliver a bomb, the last thing she wanted to do was be with the CDC working with Trevor as Brad had decreed.
“You’re right,” she said, keeping her voice steady, accepting the inevitability of the situation. “A crazy man with whatever the hell he has in mind is far more important than our past.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I volunteered to come down here. I’ve missed you.”
“Then you have a funny way of showing it.” She couldn’t hold back the fury in her voice. “Not one phone call in two years, not even an acknowledgment that you received the ring or my request to talk…”
“I wanted to call, but I didn’t know what to say, and I knew what you wanted to talk about. I didn’t think there was anything left to say, but I’m sorry I hurt you…”
“That’s always been your problem.” The words erupted from her mouth, her frustration and pain too great to stop them. “For a smart man, you just don’t think. You didn’t know what to say? Ha! You could’ve told me the real reason you wouldn’t come to Carson Creek, the reason you lied to me time and time again. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” The emotional storm blew itself out as quickly as it had arisen. “That’s water under the bridge. As far as coming here, considering the level of secrecy involved, who else could’ve done it? But I’ll bet you didn’t count on having to see me.”
“Count on it? No, but I’d hoped. I’m really sorry about the way things ended between us. If anything could’ve been different—if I could’ve told you … You have a right to be angry…”
“And I suppose you still can’t.” She shook her head when his face told her she was right. “Fine. I’m not angry, Trevor, not anymore. I was furious, then hurt, and finally disappointed, but I’m over it. We got lucky. We learned that we weren’t compatible before we made a mistake that would’ve been costly.”
Liar, her conscience screamed, but she wouldn’t listen. Shutting down her emotions, just as he’d shut down his, she retreated into the science that served her well, giving him a quick tour and outlining the safety protocols for the most dangerous virus samples they had on hand. Mechanically, she ran through the radiation handouts, discussed what could be done in the event of exposure, and showed him the necessary gear while the words, he’s only here because of the case, repeated themselves in her head.
The chemistry between them had been reactive, and she’d assumed that meant they suited, but her hypothesis had been as flawed as her experiment, methods, and conclusion. Reactive chemicals didn’t always produce something good. Trevor didn’t care. All she’d been was a good lay and a way to pass the time. If he’d loved her, he’d have found a way to come to Colorado.
With each impassive word she spoke, using the science she trusted, she added an inch or two to the wall he’d forged between them. She for chemical poisoning, including sarin and chlorine. When she’d finished, she led him back to the reception area and held out her hand for one final handshake.
“That’s it. As Brad said, the CDC stands ready to assist the FBI should the Prophet make good on his threat. My money’s on you to get him first. You were born a hero. You’ve always gone the extra mile for those who needed you, counted on you even when your own life was at risk.”
Except when it came to me.
“You put 100 percent into all of your cases. Take care. Leon will show you out.”
His face blank once more, he reached for her outstretched hand. “That’s a hell of a testimonial,” he said grimly. “No man can live up to something like that. I’ll be in touch if anything changes. In the event your worst nightmare happens, would you consider coming to Boston to help out the task force?”
You son of a bitch. Rub salt in the wound, why don’t you?



ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 

Susanne Matthews lives in Eastern Ontario, Canada with her husband. She has three grown children and five grandchildren. Of French-Canadian descent, Susanne is an avid reader of all types of books, but with a penchant for happily ever after romances regardless of what it takes to get there. A retired educator, she spends her time writing and creating adventures for her readers, whether in a contemporary, historical, sci-fi, paranormal, or suspense setting. She loves the ins and outs of complex romances, and the journey it takes to get from the first word to the last period of a novel. As she writes, her characters take on a life of their own, and she shares their fears and agonies on the road to self-discovery and love.

Follow Susanne on her:

Website: http://www.mhsusannematthews.ca/
Blog: https://mhsusannematthews.wordpress.com/
Facebook page  https://www.facebook.com/SLMauthor
Twitter @jandsmatt
Amazon author page http://www.amazon.com/Susanne-Matthews/e/B00DJCKRP4/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Goodreads author page https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7009276.Susanne_Matthews
Filthy Marcellos: The Complete Collection is live! #MafiaRomance

Filthy Marcellos: The Complete Collection
Antony - Lucian - Giovanni - Dante
is live!

And is 99cents for release day!

Find it on the following vendors below:

Amazon | iTunes | Kobo | Barnes & Noble

Add it to your Goodreads TBR.

BLURB:

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. 

Family first. God second.

From bosses and sons, to husbands and lovers. Made men, fathers, and killers. Life is a chess board in Cosa Nostra and these men are the kings. 

You can't be a Marcello if you're not filthy. 


The Complete Collection features the short novel Antony, and the three full length novels Lucian, Giovanni, and Dante. It also includes the 20k prequel to the Legacy series, featuring the Filthy Marcellos next generation.
Eternal Oath by @JewelQuinlan Available Now in #Audiobook



Eternal Oath by Jewel Quinlan 
*
Romantic Suspense, Fairytale, Contemporary

*

Part of Decadent Publishing’s Beyond Fairytales line

Blurb:

*Based on the Grimm fairytale Fundevogel

When Linda and her adopted brother, Falk, return home from school to visit their critically ill father they never expect that someone is plotting against them. But shortly after coming to terms with their feelings for each other they find themselves running through the forest for their lives. Servants in the household have turned against them but they don’t know who is leading them or why. Could the strange visions Linda has been having hold the answers?


Where you can buy it:


eBook:  Amazon  |  iTunes  |  All Romance eBooks  |  Barnes and Noble
Paperback: Amazon

Audiobook:  Audible  |  Amazon  |  iTunes
Listening Time: 4 hours 26 minutes
Narrated By: Sabrina Schloss



Enjoy this excerpt from Eternal Oath:
This time when the colors reformed she saw herself, as though a spotlight shone down on her. She was much younger than she was now, about ten, and wrapped in a woolen blanket. Her hair hung in two long braids which looked frazzled and had loose strands coming out of them. Dirt and twigs clung to her and she was looking into a mirror over a bowl of something from which steam rose. Because of the steam the image wasn’t super clear but Linda could see her younger self’s lips moving…she was saying something.
Even though Linda knew the girl was her, she also knew it was not her. It was as though she were the girl looking into the mirror and at the same time an observer standing in the corner and watching. Instinctively she knew she had to hear what the girl was saying. She stilled and focused her eyes and hearing, harnessing a tranquility that cleared and sharpened her mind. Her breaths came even and deep. And then, as if the volume button had been pressed, she could hear what her dream self was saying.
“You must remember. You must remember. You must remember,” chanted the girl.
But that was all she said with her eyes so large and charcoal-gray as she looked into the mirror. She seemed to be concentrating with all her being on those three words. But those were all she said. After a few more moments Linda became frustrated. Remember what? This girl knew something. She was the key to these horrible dreams she was having, Linda could feel it in her gut. But if she was, why wasn’t she saying more? She waited a few more moments hoping the girl would continue. When she didn’t Linda cried out, “Remember what? Tell me!”
The little girl sucked in a surprised breath and then her dark gaze shifted in the mirror from her own reflection to Linda’s. She seemed amazed to see Linda there but she paused no longer, her words came out in a rush. “You are both in grave danger. Tonight.”
And then the rest of the girl’s words were lost as Linda was pulled to consciousness again, unwillingly this time. As she was swept away she could see the girl’s lips moving but the sound had been turned off again. The image shattered like glass and she woke to Falk gently shaking her by the shoulders.

***

About the author, Jewel Quinlan:

Restless by nature, Jewel Quinlan is an avid traveler and has visited 16 countries so far. Lover of ice cream, beer and red wine she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer concocting another tale. In her spare time she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German and play with her spoiled Chihuahua; Penny. It is Penny’s mission in life to keep Jewel from the keyboard. But, with the help of dog-chew-making-companies, Jewel has been able to distract her canine companion and continues to get thousands of words on the page for your enjoyment.

For more information about Jewel Quinlan
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Tumblr  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  Instagram  |  Pinterest
Or subscribe to Jewel’s newsletter if you just want to get the most important updates



Musical Inspiration
Some Hozier for you today. <3

--Kris

Scarless & Sacred is now in paperback! #MafiaRomance


Scarless & Sacred is now in Paperback! I actually released the paperback version on the same day as the ebook released. But I give it a while to sync up and get on other vendors. 

For now, you can find the paperback on the following vendors: 


Happy reading! 

--Kris


Read the Prologue - Breathless & Bloodstained #MafiaRomance - Coming Soon
Today, I'm sharing the Prologue from Breathless & Bloodstained.

Tommas and Abriella, like the other War couples, started somewhere. This is where.

Breathless releases on March 7th, so a little over a month from now.

For today, enjoy a taste of this couple.

--Kris

Add Breathless & Bloodstained to your Goodreads TBR.


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Prologue

Abriella Trentini had been called a lot of things in her life. A principessa, a beauty, stubborn, and difficult. She had been praised for her tenacity, adored for her place as the oldest granddaughter of the Outfit’s boss, and respected simply because of her last name.

What she had never been called was a whore.

Until now.

“Just like our mother,” Joel snarled. “A whore, Ella.”

Abriella flinched as if her brother had reached out and slapped her with his hand instead of his words. Squeezing Abriella’s arm tighter, Joel dragged her down the dark hallway. His fingers dug so deeply into her skin that he was going to leave bruises. With every step they took, she could barely hear the thrum of the club behind them.

“Let me go,” Abriella hissed.

She tried to jerk out of Joel’s grasp, but he yanked her hard enough to make her stumble. The short club dress she wore did nothing to protect her knees when she hit the floor. Joel forced her back on her feet, sneering.

“Stop fighting, or this will get a hell of a lot worse,” Joel warned.

Abriella sucked in a hard breath, wanting to stay calm.  For the most part, she followed the rules set out by her family. Being mafia bred, meant women didn’t get much of a choice when the men in their lives made calls on certain things.

The women who fought back lost.

The men of the Outfit won.

Always.

Abriella had too much stubbornness to go out like that. She’d always been close to her grandfather. There was no way in hell that Terrance Trentini would stand for his granddaughter being treated like she was worthless, no matter what she did. Terrance might have been the boss, but he loved her. He let her get away with anything, even if that meant he had to hide things for her. Terrance wouldn’t stand for Joel acting like this.

“I want to call Granddaddy.”

Joel barked a bitter laugh. “He’s out of town. Shut up. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“I said—”

Joel kicked open a door and shoved Abriella inside before she could finish her sentence. Abriella fixed the skirt of her dress and spun around to face her brother, thinking she had just made the worst mistake yet. Her brother was angrier than she had realized. When he took a step toward her in the dark room, Abriella stepped backward.

Her back hit the edge of a desk, stopping her from moving further away. The room looked like some kind of office for the club. Joel flicked on a light, illuminating the space. A leather couch rested along the far wall. Black and white pictures of Chicago lined the walls in a haphazard fashion. The desk she bumped into was filled with paperwork, a laptop, and other personal belongings.

She had picked the wrong club tonight. With the help of high heels, a tight dress, and a fake ID, Abriella was able to get into just about any club she wanted. Eighteen wasn’t legal, but her ID said she was twenty-one, and no bouncer would refuse her.

She just wanted a good time tonight.

Respirare was the newest, hottest club in town. She heard about it through her friends at college. Abriella checked it out, ended up dancing with a guy who bought her a few drinks, and then she found herself being shoved down a dark hallway by her brother. Abriella didn’t even know how Joel found out she was there.

“Christ, look at you,” her brother spat.

Abriella blinked away the tears stinging in her eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Joel!”

“Is that what you think, really? Where I stand, you didn’t do a goddamn thing right. Is that what you want to be, a fucking whore like our mother?”

“No,” Abriella said, forcing herself not to cry.

“Hey, come on.”

A familiar form darkened the office doorway behind Joel. Abriella looked away from Tommas Rossi as he came to stand beside his friend. Tommas had always been respectful to Abriella when they crossed paths. The Outfit Capo was never rude, but he never went out of his way to talk to her, either. They were at two different spectrums in the family.

“Joel, chill out,” Tommas said quietly.

Joel flipped a hand at his friend. “Stay out of it.”

Abriella refused to let her brother see any tears. Joel liked that shit too much. Other people’s pain was nothing more than amusement for him.
Joel waved Abriella’s clutch for her to see before he opened it. Digging in the purse, he pulled out the fake ID. “Where did this come from?”

“A friend,” Abriella said.

“Which friend?”

“Someone from school.”

Joel shoved it into his pocket. “It’s mine now.”

She would have a new one in a week.

Fuck him.

“And as for you—”

“I want to call Granddaddy,” Abriella interrupted sharply.

Joel scoffed. “You’re an idiot. I told you, he’s out of town. Our parents are gone for the weekend. I am the only one left watching you.”

“Then I’ll take a cab back to my dorm.” Abriella shrugged, feeling worse the longer she had to stay in the room. “You can let Granddaddy know what happened. I’ll deal with the consequences when he’s back.”

Abriella moved forward to leave and tried to push past Joel as she went. It was a stupid move. Joel had a short temper. Before Abriella had blinked, Joel grabbed her arm, spun her around to face him, and raised his hand. Abriella couldn’t have gotten out of the way even if she tried to move, but she was too stunned to make the attempt.

No man had ever hit her.

None tried.

Abriella was a Trentini—no one touched a Trentini.

Joel’s palm met Abriella’s cheek with a loud enough crack to take the air from her lungs. The sting of the hit radiated over her face. Gasping, Abriella stared at her brother with her mouth open and a hand on her cheek where heat bloomed.

“You …” Abriella started to say.

She tried to speak, begged the words to form, but nothing came out. Joel’s hold on her arm loosened briefly. The two stared at one another for what felt like minutes, but was probably a few seconds.

Joel released her fast and let her go. “I-I—”

While Joel struggled with his own words, Abriella jerked back into reality.

“You,” Abriella hissed. “You … hit me!”

Joel stuttered stupidly. Abriella rammed her hands into her brother’s chest hard enough to knock him backward. Shock flitted over Joel’s features as he righted himself. Abriella shoved him again the second she could, forcing Joel away from her.

She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

Abriella wasn’t a dog to be beaten.

She was no man’s toy.

“Don’t you ever fucking hit me again!” Abriella screamed at him.

Tommas Rossi stared between the siblings, but stayed out of it.

Abriella took another step toward her frozen brother. “I might have done wrong being out tonight at a club, but out of the two of us, who do you think is going to take more shit for this? Me, with my slutty dress, or you and the bruise you just left on my face? Huh, which one?”

Joel swallowed hard, his shoulders stiffening. “You shouldn’t have—”

“I did nothing,” Abriella snapped. “Don’t blame your abuse on me. You are a piece of shit, Joel. Just wait until I tell Granddaddy what you did to me tonight.”

Like someone had lit a fire under his feet, Joel lurched forward to come at Abriella again. Tommas Rossi moved faster, sliding in between the siblings and hitting Joel hard on the shoulder with a closed fist. The smack echoed in the quiet office. Joel froze on the spot. For the moment, Abriella felt safer.

She silently thanked Tommas.

“Enough.”

Tommas’ one word was deadly quiet. A promise of violence that made Abriella shiver in her heels.

“Excuse me?” Joel asked.

“I said that it is enough,” Tommas repeated, still quiet but firm. “Leave her be. You have done more than enough, Joel. She gets it. But I won’t let you touch her again. Try it, and I’ll physically throw your ass out of this room before I have the bouncers remove you from this club. Test me, Joel, you know I can fucking do it.”

“That’s how you want to play this?” Joel asked.

Tommas nodded once. “It is.”

“She’s—”

“Young, man. She’s eighteen, trying to have a little fun, and made a goddamn mistake. You made your point. No more, Joel. It’s enough.”

Swallowing hard, Joel flicked a hand in Abriella’s direction as if to shoo her away like she was a piece of trash. “If you want to handle the little whore, then handle her. Make sure she gets back to her dorm. I have better shit to do.”

“I bet,” Tommas muttered.

Joel turned on his heel and stormed from the office. The pictures on the wall rattled when the door slammed shut with a bang.

Tommas’ shoulders heaved. Abriella could practically feel the anger flowing from the man as he stared at the spot where Joel had vacated.

“Thank you,” Abriella whispered.

Her throat was tight. As fast as her fight had come, it was gone.

Tommas didn’t act like he had heard her.

Clearing the thickness away, Abriella said, “Tommas, thank—”

“Hush,” Tommas interjected sharply.

Abriella stiffened, surprised all over again. “I beg your pardon?”

Slowly, Tommas turned on his heel to face her. “I said hush. It means be quiet.”

“I know what it means.”

“Then listen.”

What?

Where had the man from two minutes ago gone to?

“Hey, don’t be an asshole.”

Tommas’ brow furrowed, softening the sharp lines of his features as he grinned.

What was amusing?

It wasn’t the first time Abriella had gotten a good, close-up look at the man, but it was the first time she took notice of how roguishly handsome Tommas truly was. His easy stance, tall frame, and broad shoulders that filled his suit perfectly, only added to the smirk he sported. From his steel-blue gaze, to his strong jaw, and his dark hair that was swept upward like he’d been running his fingers through the short strands, the man oozed confidence and …

Abriella blinked, caught in her daze of staring.

Sexy.

Tommas was sexy as sin.

She’d always had a bit of an interest in the quiet Capo of the Rossi family, but Abriella kept her distance for many reasons. One, because he was a goddamn Capo. Two, because he was her brother’s friend. And three, because he was eight years older than her.

Abriella willed away the sudden heat flooding her cheeks and the rest of her body as Tommas looked her up and down.

“Stop that,” Abriella said.

“Stop what?” Tommas asked.

“Staring at me like that.”

“You’re staring at me.”

She was.

Abriella glanced away.

“So?” she asked.

“I don’t mind,” Tommas admitted. “I told you to be quiet, because I don’t want you to thank me for doing that. Never thank a person for doing what is right, Ella.”

Abriella’s gaze snapped up to meet Tommas’. He’d never called her anything but her full name before.

“Okay,” she said.

“And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Two things.”

“Do tell,” Abriella said.

“I should have stopped him sooner. Joel is an ass, I know. I didn’t think he’d go off like that on you, especially not with someone here.”

Abriella shrugged. “I guess you don’t know my brother all that well, huh?”

“Apparently not.”

“What was the second thing?”

Tommas wet his lips with his tongue, drawing Abriella’s gaze in again. A question passed through her thoughts so quickly, she almost missed it.

What did he kiss like?

Tommas’ next words did not help to take away that errant idea. “I called him to let him know you were in my club. I shouldn’t have done that. You were having a good time, it seemed like innocent fun, but I thought your brother should know you were out. That was my mistake. It won’t happen again. You’re free to come and go from my club as long as you can get in, Ella.”

Damn.

“Thanks.”

“One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not, Ella.”

She frowned. “Not what?”

“A whore,” Tommas murmured.

Heat pinked her cheeks again. She didn’t want to rehash all of that. It was bad enough that Tommas had heard what Joel said about Abriella’s mother.

Sara Trentini wasn’t an angel. Abriella knew her mother’s darkest secret, but only because she’d accidentally stumbled upon some paperwork regarding Sara and Joel’s father. Biologically, Joel belonged to Terrance, although their father Peter had claimed him as his son.

Skeletons like those wouldn’t stay hidden in the closet forever.

Abriella didn’t judge her mother.

She couldn’t.

Sara was her mother.

“I just … it doesn’t matter,” Abriella said lamely.

Tommas rubbed at his right temple. “No, it isn’t. You’re eighteen, and you can consent to whatever you want to do when it comes to a man. What you were doing tonight wasn’t any different than what Joel does with whoever he picks up on any given night.”

Abriella cringed. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Well, it’s true. Double standards are reserved for hypocrites and assholes only.”

Unable to stop herself, Abriella laughed.

Tommas flashed her with a sexy smile. “That is a much better sight and sound.”

“Huh?”

“Your smile. Your laugh. Not that the fight you showed wasn’t good, because it was. A strong fight makes for a good woman, but I like your smile and laugh more.”

Abriella’s throat went dry. “Oh.”

“Don’t let anyone take that from you, either.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. You’re not a whore, Ella. Don’t ever let a man call you that, or label you with that title unless you want him to.”

Her mind blanked.

Tommas’ sharp stare caught Abriella’s as he asked, “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No,” she confessed.

“You’re not a whore, sweetheart, but you can be anything you want to be for the man you want to be with. It’s that simple. What you do in private with a man is nobody’s business but yours and his. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Abriella’s bottom lip caught under her teeth as she took in his words. “You don’t think so?”

“No.”

Oh.

“Outfit daughters shouldn’t act like who—”

“What did I say about that word, huh?” Tommas asked, taking a step forward.

Abriella tipped her chin down, but grinned all the same. “Sorry.”

She didn’t realize how close Tommas had come to stand in front of her until his fingers were sliding under her chin and tilting her head up. She decided right then and there that she liked the feeling of this man’s hands on her skin.

That was so bad. Wrong, even.

But she liked it.

“Do what makes you happy, Ella. Let the assholes like your brother keep their judgment.”

“Easier said than done. You know where I come from, Tommas.”

“Tommy. I prefer Tommy.”

“Tommy,” she echoed.

“Let them keep it,” he repeated. “Just get smarter about your ways, girl. That’s all.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Are you encouraging me to break the rules?”

Tommas chuckled. The sound of his amusement rocked through Abriella. “If you want to call it that, then sure. The thing is, I have a feeling this wasn’t your first time doing something you shouldn’t and it probably won’t be your last. Just get smarter about it; that’s all. You want to have some fun. Have it. You want to go out. Go. Don’t be stupid about it, though.”

“Are you always this … strange?” Abriella asked.

“No, sometimes I’m even worse. Moody. A prick. Quiet. Depends on the day.”

Abriella wondered if she could find out more about Tommas.

“Huh.”

“I do have a question for you, but you don’t have to answer.”

“Maybe I will, but you won’t know unless you ask.”

“A smartass. I like that, too.”

Abriella smiled. “You’re not the first to call me that.”

“I’m not surprised.” Tommas tipped his head to the side a bit and asked, “The man you were dancing with … would you have taken him to your dorm or wherever tonight?”

“No,” Abriella said instantly.

“Why not?”

“Because he was good for a little fun, but not much else. Two dimensional men are boring.”

Tommas cocked a brow. “What would it take, Ella?”

Was he asking?

Because almost everything she learned about Tommas tonight was a great start. She wasn’t an angel. She hadn’t been one of those for years. She wasn’t going to act like one now.

“The right kind of guy.”

Tommas laughed. “And who is that?”

“The one who can give me what I want.”

His gaze caught hers, holding strong. “Care to let me in on the secret?”

“I just want to be free, Tommy.”