Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Burn Me Release Blitz: February 6, 2018





Title: Burn Me Anthology
Authors: F.G. Adams, Janine Infante Bosco, 

Meagan Brandy, LK Collins, Tracie Douglas, 

Kim Jones, Kristen Hope Mazzola, S. Moose, 

Aimee Noalane, Kaylee Ryan, Mayra Statham, 

Shantel Tessier, & Winter Travers

Genre: Romance Anthology

Cover Design: Tracie Douglas, Dark Water Covers

Photo: Aunt Kris Photos

Model: Al Spinelli
Release Date: February 6, 2018

Blurb

Thirteen authors
have joined forces to bring you their sizzling stories-some sweet, some
five-alarm hot, but all for a good cause. Burn Me is an anthology to raise
money for Hope For Heroes Foundation, which helps military, fire, police, and
EMS personnel who've experienced life-altering disabilities while in the line
of duty. Follow the antics and adventures of these incredible firefighters in
what promises to be one of the hottest compilations yet! This delectable
anthology begs the question: Can anyone resist a hero in uniform?









Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



Trailer






Contributing Authors


Sale Alert Drifter Book One in the Nomad Series .99c by Janine Infante Bosco


 ✮ ✮ ✮ SALE ALERT! ✮ ✮ ✮




✮ ✮ ✮ SALE ALERT! ✮ ✮ ✮


The first book #Drifter in the Nomad Series is on sale just 99¢ for a limited time only!

Grab your copy today!



#JanineInfanteBosco #TheNomadSeries #Drifter #ReleaseBoost
#DriftingIntoChaos #findthebeautiful



= Buy Now #KU =
Amazon:  http://amzn.to/2diAbdl
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2kCiYMz
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2kC5sZj
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2kBW3ky

= Add to Goodreads TBR = 
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25215438-drifter



= Blurb =

Stryker

I’m a drifter.
A man born to ride through this world alone.
There used to be a time when I thought I was the rescuing type. I enlisted in the Marines and made it my duty—I was going to save lives.
I was going to be a true American hero.
But God had another plan.
Or maybe Satan did.
For everything I touch finds mortality.
I’m no hero.
I’m nothing.
I’m a veteran biker, a former nomad who survived war only to live in hell.
Now I ride with the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn and I’m drifting into a different kind of chaos.
The kind that revolves around a pretty girl with intoxicating green eyes.
A girl who has the power to turn me inside out.
A girl who doesn’t need anyone to rescue her because she’s her own savior.
Until she’s not.
But a man plagued by war and the devil inside him can never be her hero.

Gina Spinelli

Strong. Independent. Fierce.
They are the three things I strived to be.
But sometimes being successful can be lonely.
Sometimes a girl just wants to be a girl and have someone take care of her.
Maybe even love her.
Sometimes the strong become vulnerable.
Or worse, the victor becomes the victim.
Sometimes we lose control or in my case it’s stripped from you.
Defeated. Broken. Haunted.
They are the three things I have become.
In my darkest hour I admit defeat.
In my darkest hour I need one person.
I need him.
Stryker.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***






= Stay Connected with the Author =
Website: http://www.janineinfantebosco.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineboscoauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanineBosco
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/grassking205/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1FJa8S3
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/29Dfru4
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Book Bub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1

= Cover Design Credit =
Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design
Model: Matthew Hosea  http://bit.ly/2fMEkqu
Photographer: Wander Pedro Aguiar http://bit.ly/2kC7aKa



Other books in the series:



Wanderer book two:
US: http://amzn.to/2maumiv
UK: http://amzn.to/2nf83da
AU: http://amzn.to/2maovcX
CA: http://amzn.to/2masean


Roamer book three:
US: http://a.co/5aujokX
AU: http://amzn.to/2qcxdKc 
CA: http://a.co/dUEUtMl
UK: http://amzn.eu/33RpuxU

Preorder Loner book four:
US: http://a.co/3Fjjxu9
CA: http://a.co/dOCvRBM
AU: http://amzn.to/2FsopHB
UK: http://amzn.eu/9pMi3Wx


Monday, February 5, 2018

Cover Reveal: Loner by Janine Infante Bosco - Book Four The Nomad Series







LONER (Book Four) The Nomad Seriesby Janine Infante BoscoPublication Date: February 25, 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense



Are you ready to ride with Linc and Kelly?
Happy Cover Reveal Day to Janine Infante Bosco - Author!
Check out the AWESOME new cover for

¸.•´✶LONER¸.•´✶
#PREORDER your copy now!
US: http://a.co/3Fjjxu9
CA: http://a.co/dOCvRBM
AU: http://amzn.to/2FsopHB
UK: http://amzn.eu/9pMi3Wx

Add to #Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2E3Fc3x

 

.•´✶COVER CREDITS¸.•´✶
Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design
Model: LANCE JONES
Photographer: Wander Anguiar Photography




#Loner #TheRideToHell #TheNomadSeriesFinale #JanineInfanteBosco



.•´✶#GIVEAWAY¸.•´✶
#Amazon #GiftCard!
Alex & Ani bracelet and an Amazon Gift Card


Giveaway direct link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6dc324a810/?

.•´✶#EXCERPT¸.•´✶

Excerpt LONER © Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

When you wake up from a coma and are told there is a fifty-fifty shot of you walking again, it’s hard to think about anything else. Nothing mattered after that. Not the reasons I joined the Satan’s Knights MC or why I took up permanent residency in Brooklyn. I didn’t give a fuck about the men who I proudly called my brothers or the legacy of Cain. All that consumed me was misery and suicidal thoughts.
At twenty-six years old, I had already lived longer than I should have.
Longer than I deserved.
I had survived both parents, my first love and the heartbreak of losing Pinky. I hustled and conned more people than I can count and pulled the trigger on more than a dozen lives and still, that wasn’t enough sins for the devil to call me home.
Well, I wasn’t about to live the rest of my life in a chair. Riding was all I had left in this world and now that was gone too. Everyone has a breaking point and having to ask one of my brothers to hold my dick whenever I took a piss was mine.
I certainly wasn’t thinking about my finances or lack of health insurance. When I learned the hospital was looking to throw my ass on the street—crippled and all—it was the final nail in the coffin and another reason to end it the nightmare.
However, committing suicide was a hard feat for me thanks to Jack Parrish. The former right hand of my father had a rotation of brothers guarding over me. Between the sea of leather and the constant flow of doctors and nurses, I was never alone long enough to go through with my plan.
It became impossible once Wolf got wind of the hospital's intentions to throw me into some state-funded rehab. The son of a bitch came riding in on his white horse to save the day, taking a mortgage on a house he owned free and clear. Not only did he pay my outstanding medical bills but, he also cut them a check for my last surgery where they removed the rods from my legs.
If this was a movie, now would be the part where I tell you I miraculously walked after that and all is well. However, this is no mainline cinema production and after the rods were out of my legs all that changed was the fact one leg had healed better than the other. Which meant I could balance twenty pounds of weight on my good leg. I’m six foot three and a hundred and ninety pounds—you do the math.
I regained mild sensation in my limbs but, that don’t matter much either. They still feel like dead weight every time the physical therapist tries to get me moving.
With no surgical procedure left to try, I’m being discharged from the hospital and the fate of my legs relies on an hourly paid therapist who doesn’t really give two flying fucks if I walk again. The doctors here have also referred me to a shrink—apparently, it’s alarming when a crippled bastard doesn’t clap his hands in elation after finding out he’s being discharged. I suppose to them fresh air is a mediocre consolation prize.
After being locked inside a hospital for months, one might look forward to being thrown into the world that chewed him up and spat him out. He might even find comfort at the thought of going home but, I didn’t have a home. All I had was a room in the Satan’s Knights clubhouse and like my legs, the explosion left my home, my bed and all my belongings in ruins.
Upon my arrival to the concrete jungle, I along, with the three nomads Wolf managed to turn, all took a room in the clubhouse. After the explosion, I heard Styker, Cobra, and Deuce had relocated to a motel. However, as a man who has been stripped of his independence, that wasn’t an option for me. The motel wasn’t wheelchair accessible and even if it was, I needed someone to help me wipe my ass. Wolf, of course, thought that someone should be him and while I’ve been wiggling my toes like a trained chimp at the circus, he had his other monkey’s—Stryker, Cobra, and Deuce— turn his house into a crippled man’s oasis.
Now, it’s discharge day. The papers have been signed and instead of rolling out of here on my Harley, there is shiny new wheelchair that offensively awaits me and a bag of clothes sitting on the foot of my bed that I refuse to have the nurse help me put on.
If I don’t comply maybe they’ll throw me on the street like yesterdays trash and be done with me.
A knock sounds on the door, dragging me away from my thoughts. I’m about to tell the nurse to go fuck off somewhere when I hear Wolf’s deep voice echo off the sterile walls.
“Why the fuck are you still wearing that dress?” he growls, curling his lip as he eyes my hospital gown with disdain. “Riggs is downstairs waiting with the cage.”
He grabs the bag of clothes sitting at the foot of the bed and dumps them onto my lap.
“The fucking clown charges by the hour,” he adds, clapping his hands together.
And you thought I was being a smart ass when I said we’re all his monkey’s.
A sane man would think better than to argue with Wolf.  After all, he didn’t get his name because he had the disposition of a lamb. Like a master predator, he lives amongst the wild and silently stalks in the shadows. He destroys anything that stands in his way and defends what he holds dear. Loyal to a fault, he is the heart of the Satan’s Knights.
He’s also a glutton for punishment.
But, so am I.
A fact we both surrender as we continue to stare at one another. This isn’t his first attempt at saving me when I don’t want to be saved.
“I’m not going,” I tell him definitely as I swipe my hand across my lap and send the bag flying off it.
“The fuck you talking about?” he grinds out, combing his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. The times have changed. Murder and mayhem have hardened Wolf and as a result, his patience has thinned.
“I should’ve died in that explosion,” I tell him. Balling my fist, I lift it and pound it against the center of my chest as I glare at him. “I wanted to die,” I reveal. “But, no one asked me what I wanted. No one gave me a fucking choice.”
Stryker pulled me from the debris.
Jack Parrish and his vice president, Blackie, gave consent every time they sliced me open.
And if it was up to Wolf, he’d keep tugging on those puppet strings.
“I’m done letting you motherfuckers play God. From here on out, I decide what happens to me.”
“Let’s get something straight, kid,” Wolf growls. “I didn’t lie to my brothers and sacrifice my loyalty to my club for nothing. I put my life on the line for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” I remind him.
“No, your mother did and before your father killed himself, I swore that if you or she ever needed anything I would make sure you got it,” he fires back.
The instant the words leave his lips, he lifts his chin. Regret fills his eyes and apparent frustration wears on his face as I narrow my eyes.
“I thought my father died from hepatitis.”
“You and the rest of the world,” he mutters, scratching the scruff lining his jaw.
I’ve always known my father was a dangerous man. Being the former president of the Satan’s Knights motorcycle club, he was no choir boy. He was a criminal. a hellion who lied, cheated and stole from others. A stone-cold killer with ice in his veins.
Since a young age, the story of his death had been ingrained in my brain and it goes like this, Cain was a drug addict. Years of swapping dirty needles finally caught up to the menace and he contracted Hepatitis C. Two years after he was diagnosed, he learned he also had liver cancer. The doctors gave him six to eight weeks. He survived two.
It’s the story my mother told me anytime I asked about my old man.
The very same tale Wolf has spun for the last eight years. I never had a reason to doubt him. Especially when every man wearing a reaper backed him with the same story. Sure, Wolf lied through his teeth but, I was never on the receiving end of those lies and every deceitful thing he’s ever said or done was to protect me.
At least that’s what I thought until now.
Until this very moment when all his lies—all the secrets he’s harbored—they pour from his tortured eyes like venom. The exposed truth weighs heavily between us and as before he can spin another bullshit story, I demand the truth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask angrily.
“I came here for answers,” I remind him. “You were on the balls of your ass, desperate to save what my old man created and, I offered myself to you on a silver fucking platter. I figured I’d repay my debt and in the process, I’d learn more about the man who fathered me. All I got in return was a rap sheet a mile long, more faceless enemies and a fucking wheelchair. I’ve undergone the knife more times than I can count and, I can’t fucking walk. You owe me something!”
Silence engulfs the room as I watch Wolf take two steps toward me, closing the distance between us. Leveling me with a glare, he rolls his neck from side to side. It’s the first time I fear what will come from his mouth but, I’ll never admit that.
“Lies,” he calls, pointing an accusing finger at me. “Yeah, I was desperate. Yeah, I took you up on your offer but, don’t for one second tell me it was to repay a debt. I never asked you for a goddamn thing. Everything I did for you was done without ever expecting something in return. You chose to hightail it out of North Carolina because you fell for my niece and you needed an excuse to ease your fucking conscience after bailing on her. You want truth? You want answers? You’re a fucking pussy just like your old man,” he roars.
Anger rolls off him stunning me into silence. It’s not the vulgar comparison to my father that shocks me. It’s the fact Wolf knows about my relationship with Kelly. I thought I did a good job hiding my feelings for her. After all, I had succeeded in making her believe she was nothing more than a willing a body. A much needed distraction to pass the time. A reason to move on with a life I was tired of living.
She never knew she was everything that forced my vital organs to work.
The air that inflated my lungs.
The blood that pulsed through my veins.
Everything.
And when I closed my eyes, she was the glimpse of heaven I never deserved.
She was everything but the only one who knew that was me.
Me, and now Wolf.
“Wipe that look of surprise off your fucking face,” he growls, gripping the side rail of the hospital bed. His knuckles turn white and I imagine he’s wishing it was my neck he’s strangling. “I knew it from the moment she stormed into Sin’s chapel that first day. I knew it when you looked at her and saw a piece of yourself.”
His words are like gravity to my memory, pulling me down and grounding me back in time to the day I first laid eyes on Kelly Monroe.



¸.•´✶SYNOPSIS¸.•´✶



Linc

A man who can’t visualize his future will always revert to his past.
To where he came from and all the ways he failed.
The murder and mayhem that changed his life and darkened his soul.
The legacy of who he is will burn through his veins and ominously guide him to hell.
A place where he pays not only for his sins but the sins of his father as well.
A hustler by nature, a loner by choice, I am the spawn of Satan.
I am Lincoln Brandt and I am the son of Cain.

Kelly

Reckless and rebellious, I’ve spent most of my life running away from one mistake only to chase another.
At the end of my rope with nowhere left to turn, I’m about to make the biggest one of all.
Face to face with the bastard who broke me, I lay it all on the line for him.
My heart and my life.
Heaven is overrated and the ride to Hell doesn’t have to be lonely.
The stakes are high.
The risk great.
It’s do or die.
Together we’ll ride.
Forever we’ll burn.

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

#Loner #TheRideToHell #TheNomadSeriesFinale #JanineInfanteBosco


#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¸.•´✶

Website: http://www.janineinfantebosco.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineboscoauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanineBosco
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/grassking205/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1FJa8S3
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/29Dfru4
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Book Bub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1


Friday, January 19, 2018

Cover Reveal: Burn Me Anthology





Title: Burn Me Anthology
Authors: F.G. Adams, Janine Infante Bosco, 

Meagan Brandy, LK Collins, Tracie Douglas, 

Kim Jones, Kristen Hope Mazzola, S. Moose, 

Aimee Noalane, Kaylee Ryan, Mayra Statham, 

Shantel Tessier, & Winter Travers
Genre: Romance Anthology

Cover Design: Tracie Douglas
Photographer: Aunt Kris Photos
Cover model: Al Spinelli
Release Date: February 6, 2018





Blurb

Thirteen authors have joined forces to bring you their sizzling stories-some sweet, some five-alarm hot, but all for a good cause. Burn Me is an anthology to raise money for Hope For Heroes Foundation, which helps military, fire, police, and
EMS personnel who've experienced life-altering disabilities while in the line of duty. Follow the antics and adventures of these incredible firefighters in what promises to be one of the hottest compilations yet! This delectable anthology begs the question: Can anyone resist a hero in uniform?







Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU










Contributing Authors






Monday, November 6, 2017

ARC - Love Me By Christmas by Jaci Burton

Love Me By ChristmasLove Me By Christmas by Jaci Burton

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Jaci Burton is one of my favorite contemporary romance authors. I have not read one of her books in awhile. It was nice to pick up one and I am glad I got to read Ellie and Nicks heartwarming story. After the tragic death of Ellie’s husband, Nicks brother the two hold each other together as they mourn their shared loss. Jaci spins a sweet and some times sad tale of a second chance at love after loss. I cried more than once as I read the journey of Nick and Ellie as they finally find the courage to claim the love the both feel. Great love story.

*Standalone, contemporary romance, second chance at love*


View all my reviews

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Release Blitz: From the Ruins by Janine Infante Bosco






FROM THE RUINS

(A Satan's Knights Novel)
by Janine Infante BoscoPublication Date: September 26, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense


Are you ready to get ruined with Pipe and Layla? 
Happy Release Day to Janine Infante Bosco - Author! 


¸.•´✶FROM THE RUINS¸.•´✶ 



#AVAILABLENOW

Buy Links



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



.•´✶COVER CREDITS¸.•´✶
Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design
Model: Michael Joseph
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, R+M Photography

#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC
#JanineInfanteBosco


¸.•´✶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***

.•´✶#GIVEAWAY¸.•´✶


 #Amazon #GiftCard!

Signed paperback of From the Ruins (Signed by Janine and Michael) 
$15.00 Amazon Gift card

Giveaway direct link: 


.•´✶#EXCERPT¸.•´✶

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

Excerpt: Pipe confesses some of his truth.

Sitting on the floor next to Oksana’s shoes, I reach for the bottle beside me and take a hefty swig. The liquid slides down my throat, burning my belly. I embrace the pain. I relish in it and wish for more. If I had any balls whatsoever, I’d take a knife to my own throat and feel the pain she felt when her life ended.
“Hey, babe,” I mutter. “You with me today?” I ask the shoes, praying that by some miracle of God they’ll answer me. They won’t. They never do. But tonight, more than anything, more than whiskey and pain, I need her. I need to believe that she stills walks beside me every day. It doesn’t matter that she’s unseen or unheard, just as long as she’s near. It’s selfish of me to want her with me considering everything I’ve done since she’s left this earth. The booze, the nameless women, the list is fucking endless.
“I forgot,” I confess as I close my eyes and take another gulp. “For a little while I forgot and it wasn’t because I was shitfaced or because I was too busy getting off to think of anything else. For the first time since you died, I distracted myself with a woman and didn’t fuck her. The shit thing is, it felt worse than sinking my dick into some faceless stranger. I came home, saw the shoes and felt guilty for playing you dirty.”
Placing the bottle on the floor next to me, I lift my hands to my face and rub vigorously.
“I’m losing it, Oksana,” I mutter. “I’m losing my fucking mind trying to live when all I want to do is die. What’s the point in living when everything I ever loved—you, the club, everything—is gone.”
Taking a deep breath, I draw my hands away from my face and lean my head against the wall.
“I forgot,” I whisper. “I forgot I had nothing because at the hardware store I was the guy who had everything. In the grocery store I was the man who had too much, and in Layla’s kitchen I was the man who wanted more.”
When Layla’s friend Joey showed up and set me straight, I walked away. One glance at him and I remembered who I was and what I was worth. There is a reason men like him have everything and men like me have nothing. It’s nothing new to me. In fact, it’s something I’ve learned through the years, through the loss I’ve experienced myself and the loss I’ve witnessed through the eyes of my brothers. It’s the reason Wolf has three ex-wives and Jack buried his son. It’s the reason Riggs almost lost his woman and his child, and it’s the very reason Bones died. It’s why Blackie brings Christine flowers on a Saturday and I’m sitting here talking to a pair of shoes.
It’s the choices you make when you’re young, the choices you think have no consequences. I’d be willing to bet my life that guy Joey doesn’t live with a mountain of regrets. A man like that rides on the right side of the law. He works hard for everything he has and that’s why he gets to keep it. He is rewarded for the choices he made when he was younger, when he fought against temptation and struggled instead of taking the easy way out in life. It is men like that who work a nine to five who never worry about bombs and bullets, and who live life to its fullest potential.
I used to call those men pussies.
But I’m the one sitting here with a half empty bottle of booze and a pair of shoes, looking for the courage to end my nightmare.
The excessive knocking on the door jolts me away from my pity party and forces me onto my feet. Without wondering who it might be, I pull open the door and stare at Layla’s pretty face. Lifting the plate in her hands, she smiles warmly and a fire spreads throughout my chest. It’s the pain I’ve been looking for, the sweet satisfaction of my punishment.
“Hi,” she murmurs. “You left kind of abruptly before—”
“Why are you here?” I sneer, cutting her off.
“Well, I thought if you couldn’t stay for dinner then I could bring dinner to you,” she explains, extending a dish toward me.
She’s nice.
Too fucking nice.
I can’t handle nice.
I can’t handle good.
She made me forget today. She made me wish for more. Now I need her to remind me of the truth. I need her to lash out at me and give me the rawness of pain. I need her to prove to me I’m not worthy of her spit. I need the bitter, angry Layla who isn’t afraid to tell the guy next door he’s a bastard.
“Look, lady, I fixed your fucking sink, played bitch to you and your kids all day and started the repairs on your car. Now I thought we were done for the day. What more can you possibly need from me? The roof cave in and you need some jerkoff to patch it up for you?”
Her eyes flash and her nostrils flare as she glares at me.
There it is.
Give it to me, killer.
Show me the truth.
“Have you been drinking?” she asks, clenching her teeth.
“What’s it to you?” I fire back. “I ain’t on the clock again until tomorrow.”
Silently, she stares at me and I figure she’s getting a glimpse of the devil until her features soften. She cocks her head to the side and the fire fades from her eyes.
“What’s happening here?” she whispers. “I thought we were okay. I mean, today—”
“Today, nothing. Today I fucking bent over backward and took it in the ass because I felt bad for you.”
“You felt bad for me?” she repeats.
Come on, give it to me.
“I pitied you. Look, lady, I get it. You’re lonely. Your husband left you, probably for a woman half your age. That would explain why you’re so fucking bitter, but I’m not looking to lick your wounds and play Daddy to a bunch of brats,” I sneer. “Maybe you can get that Joey character to pity fuck you and take on your tribe.”
Suddenly, she drops the plate and rears her hand back. Her palm connects with my cheek and I grin devilishly at her.
Burn.
Make me burn.
“That the best you got, killer?”
“Fuck you,” she shrieks, pushing her hair out of her face as she clenches her jaw. “Not that it is any of your fucking business but Joey is my best friend’s husband! As for my marriage, I’m the one who left. My children have one father and one mother and that’s all they’ll ever have. You ever talk about my kids like that again, so help me Jesus I will fucking gut you. And as far as looking for someone to fuck me, I have standards and a vibrator, and even if I didn’t I’m pretty sure you’d be the last man I’d want to satisfy me. I wasn’t looking for anything. I came here because you were helpful to me and my children and I wanted to return the favor but you can…” Her words trail off.
“Don’t stop there,” I growl.
Following her gaze, my eyes zero in on Oksana’s shoes.
“Of course,” she laughs sarcastically. “I should’ve known you’d have company. You must be slacking though since there is only one pair of shoes tonight,” she shouts as she goes to reach for them. “You’re a fucking pig,” she seethes.
Snapping, my control flees and I reach for her wrist.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I scold, foaming at the mouth. “Those are my wife’s shoes,” I holler as I lose my footing and stumble back. Falling on my ass, Layla pulls her hand free from me and takes a step backward. Her eyes widen and she looks appalled.
“You’re married?” she asks with her voice full of disgust. “Oh my God, you’re fucking married? I didn’t think it was possible for you to be a bigger piece of shit but—”
“She’s fucking dead,” I shout, unable to listen to her anymore. I thought having her tell me I was a worthless piece of garbage would make me feel better, but having her think I’ve been stepping out on my wife is too much. Call me all the names in the world, blame me for her death, but don’t tell me I wasn’t devoted to her.
I’m a lot of things but I’m no fucking cheat.
“Lee,” she whispers hoarsely.
“Get out,” I order, combing my fingers through my hair. Angling my head back, I meet her pitiful gaze and I shake my head. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
Instead of taking a step backward, she takes two forward and kicks away the broken plate. She bends her knees and crouches down in front of me.
It’s wrong.
So fucking wrong.
I don’t want her pity.
Fuck her and her sorrow.
“Go away,” I plead.
Leave me to my hell.
Leave me to my grief.
Leave me alone where I’m meant to be.
“I didn’t know,” she explains.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, turning away from her.
“Lee—” she whispers.
Then I feel her.
Her hand touches mine and an electric current passes from her fingertips to mine. It’s too much and I snap my hand back. My eyes find hers and the burn in my chest deepens as the tears roll down her cheeks.
“Get the fuck out,” I growl.
She doesn’t move for a moment before she wipes her eyes and whispers her apologies once more. Without another word, she stands, but before she turns around she glances at the shoes.
The truth is in those shoes.
They’re the reminder.
For those red shoes don’t only symbolize the sharp knife of a short life.
They prove the worse consequence of all is waking up every day in a world you’re unworthy of living in.
That’s the fucking truth I forgot.
The truth Layla made me forget.
A truth I’m unworthy of forgetting.



#FromTheRuins #GetRuined #RiseUp  #SmokinPipe #SatansKnightsMC
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.•´✶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¸.•´✶

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