Aug 24, 2016 | Bloghop
Yet another #WIP Wednesday snippet from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. This scene is at a benefit gala for underprivileged youth that Smith has taken Camille to so he can test her ability to blend in no matter the situation. Can she keep her sharp tongue in check, while standing in heels?
—
“ – and then she called me up and asked if I would go with her to that dismal little spa on the second floor of the Calina Hotel! As if I’d be caught dead there!” A brunette with her hair pulled up into an elaborate hairstyle was already laughing at her own story as they approached. She was clearly a few too many glasses of wine into her evening to keep her voice down, but Camille tried to maintain her smile – even though she wanted to shout at the bitch about how shallow and pointless her life was. Fuck, the stupid woman was complaining about some expensive spa while she was at a benefit for poor, street kids.
I will not shoot her. I will not shoot her. I will not shoot her.
“Good evening, I was wondering if my wife and I might join you? We’ve just moved into the city, and I don’t seem to see a single person I know.” Smith’s voice was smooth as honey, and the two women seemed to perk up just at the sight of him. Of course, Camille’s own ears foolishly twitched at hearing him call her his wife. Idiot, it doesn’t mean anything.
“Of course, always glad to meet new blood in town.” One of the men smiled broadly and offered his free hand, shaking Smith’s firmly. “I’m Henry, and this is my wife Lisa.”
Ah, the bitch of a brunette who thinks a certain spa is beneath her.
“And I’m Tom, and this is Margaret. Also my wife, although I think she’s looking to disown me after I brought her here tonight.” The man laughed while his wife gave him a sharp look.
“I just don’t like being dragged out four nights a week so that he can make new business contacts.” She smiled without letting it reach her eyes. “Be careful, or he’ll have you talking about stock portfolios the entire evening.”
“Thank you for the warning, Margaret.” Smith nodded his head, all charm, and then flashed a grin that almost stopped Camille’s heart. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. “I’m John, and this is Caroline.”
“Nice to meet you, Caroline!” Lisa piped up, incredibly chipper since she was clearly borderline drunk already. “Oh! You’re not wearing a wedding ring? Did you – um – just get married, perhaps?”
The snide comment in her voice wasn’t missed, but Camille just smiled slowly. “My ring?” She laughed, mimicking the haughty tones the woman had used just moments before. “Well, I just thought wearing all the diamonds and such would be a little tasteless considering the event is for underprivileged youth in the city… but it seems I was off base. You and Margaret are a regular display case of beautiful pieces!”
Tom and Henry burst into laughter, and the two women forced polite chuckles past their lips, but Lisa began nervously tugging at the gorgeous array of emeralds and diamonds at her throat a moment later.
“Darling, I did tell you that you could wear anything you wanted to the gala,” Smith purred next to her, and she had to suppress the shudder his voice sent down her spine. Where the fuck had this guy been in the last two years while he’d been ruthlessly kicking her ass as he trained her? Hell, where had he been this morning when he pinned her to the ground and made her relive her own personal hell just to teach her a lesson?
“Well, I won’t make that mistake again!” She smiled brightly, and Tom winked at her. His gaze stayed on her a minute longer than necessary, but she made sure to shift her gaze between all of them as she kept track of him in her periphery. Eventually he gave up the staring contest and tuned back into the group’s chatter.
It was an endless, droning discussion of a million things that Camille didn’t give a shit about – luxurious vacations, stocks, other parties, other guests – and the fact that she had to listen and actually pay attention made her want to stab someone. Talk about nightmares.
“I do wish they’d just start the dinner, all of this standing around is so insufferable,” Lisa slurred, and her husband slid his arm around her waist.
“It’s because of the auction. Yet another pathetic attempt to get us to pour money into whatever cause they use as an excuse for a party.” Margaret rolled her eyes, and took a hefty drink of the white wine in her glass.
“From what I understand the youth of the city are particularly vulnerable, and that is the purpose of tonight. Was I wrong?” Smith asked.
“Not at all! There were all kinds of stories about homeless teens and such. Just terrible. They show up here trying to be the next big star, and then end up starving.” Henry sighed. “But, honestly, if me bidding on a weekend trip I’d take anyway helps them out, why not?”
“What are you bidding on tonight, dear?” Margaret asked Tom. He was a broad man with a loud laugh, but something about him was making her want to walk away from him. Creeper.
“Ah, it’s a surprise.” He grinned at her and she playfully shoved at his arm.
“Surprises are usually very expensive.”
“Aren’t they?” Henry asked and the two men laughed, but Smith simply smiled.
“What about you, Caroline? Do you feel like John is simply torturing you by bringing you to this gala?” Henry chuckled, and she flashed him a smile as she took a sip of her drink.
“Torture? That seems a little over the top. I mean, is it ever really torture if I get a new dress?” She laughed, and on cue the others burst into polite laughter too, and Lisa even winked at her.
These people were too easy.
Smith leaned over and pressed a kiss to her hair, but his lips lingered by her ear just long enough to whisper, “You’re doing very well.”
The words felt like lightning through her, filling her up with vibrant energy. Smith had complimented her, he’d actually fucking complimented her. In the two years he’d been training her, he’d barely said anything beyond the occasional ‘that was good’, and he’d never said it with that tone. Proud and practically purring.
She needed another drink before she did something embarrassing. Like kissing Smith in front of these elitist bastards.
—
Would you say that Camille is pulling it off? I think she’s surprised even herself, and especially Smith, but you have to stay tuned because this evening is just beginning to get interesting! Come back for #SatSpanks to read more!
Aug 20, 2016 | Bloghop |
It’s #SatSpanks again, and I’ve got more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. This scene follows shortly after the intense series of blog hops (over the last few weeks) that outlined a sparring match / lesson Smith had with Camille, which all leads to Camille changing and growing into the assassin she’s meant to become – and unfortunately, that involves heels.
—
The sound of the door banging against the wall in their low-end hotel room startled her from her staring contest with the mirror. Leaning out of the bathroom she checked to verify it was Smith, and she was surprised to see his arms covered in shopping bags with a large, sleek box in his hands. “Mind giving me a hand?” he asked as he kicked the door shut.
“Sure, but, what the fuck is all this?” Camille snagged the big box and one of the bags off his arm, before moving them to the foot of his bed.
“Go on, open it.” He had a small smile lifting the edge of his mouth as he dropped the other bags to the floor, gesturing at the big box when she didn’t immediately reach for it.
She stared at him a moment longer, trying to decipher the strange look on his face, but she finally gave up on gaining any more insight, and turned back to the box. It was a smooth, shiny black and the top half whispered as she lifted it. Inside was a nest of tissue paper, and under that was a pool of dark blue fabric. As she picked it up it became clear it was a dress. A very nice dress. “What. The. Fuck.”
“Not usually the reaction when a woman gets a designer dress, but, you’ve never been predictable.” Smith shrugged as he started to take other things out of the bags, including a black clothing bag. He hung it on the bathroom doorframe and as he unzipped it a sleek black tux was revealed. Also designer by the look of it – and definitely for him.
“What the hell is this, Smith?”
“We’re going to dinner. Somewhere very nice.” He pointed at the dress. “You’re going to wear that.”
“Why?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. They spent all their time hopping in and out of sandwich shops, or stopping at street vendors, or little cafes and diners. A nice dinner? The kind of dinner that required a dress like that?
“Because, C, jobs can take you all over the world, into a variety of different situations. You won’t always be able to wear yoga pants and a t-shirt on a job.” He shook his head slowly, mumbling under his breath as he took the suit out from the bag. “Think of it as a game. There will be a bunch of rich people there, and your goal is to blend in. Watch how they talk, watch how they move, and mimic them. Figure out how to make yourself invisible.”
“Why does my fucking game involve heels like this?” Camille tilted a box of shoes towards him and he sighed.
“First, you need to learn to walk in heels. Second, I guarantee no one will be using language like that at dinner. Why don’t you start practicing now?”
“Jesusfuckingchrist…” she muttered as she dropped the heels back on the bed. Looking at the dress laid out, with the tall, spiky heels beside it, she felt horrendously self-conscious. How in the fuck was she going to fit in with a bunch of fancy New York assholes? This was insane. “Smith, I don’t even have make-up, or anything for -”
“In here.” He tapped a foot against one of the big shopping bags. “Pretty much all the make-up I think you’ll ever need, and a flat iron for your hair, which apparently you will want.”
“I -”
Smith walked over to her, stopping when she had to tilt her head back a bit to meet his eyes. “C, do you think I’d put you in a situation I didn’t think you could handle?”
“I’ve never even worn a dress like that, Smith, and I have no fucking clue what to do around people like that.”
“That’s the point. You’ll find yourself in a lot of different situations, and you need to learn to mimic, be a chameleon so you’re invisible. You’re incredibly observant, and I know you can do it. Remember, people who blend in don’t get remembered during police reports.”
“Right… simple. Just blend in.”
—
Camille may not be excited about her fancy dinner with Smith, but I am excited to share it with you! Things are about to seriously heat up between these two and I can’t wait! Until #WIP Wednesday, check out these other snippets.
Aug 17, 2016 | Bloghop
Back for another #WIP Wednesday snippet again and I’ve got more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. This scene follows shortly after the intense series of blog hops (over the last few weeks) that outlined a sparring match / lesson Smith had with Camille, which all leads to Camille changing and growing into the assassin she’s meant to become.
—
“I’ll survive, Smith. I always do. You don’t need to worry about me.”
He nodded and then rubbed at his neck again. “Good. Now, about the other discussion I want to have with you. You know how beautiful you are -”
“I know that assholes think I am.” Even if you don’t. “And that I didn’t have any trouble making money on the street, and I’ve never had to struggle to find a drink when I want one.”
“Yes… that’s all true, but your beauty is more than that, more than just some commodity you’ve traded. It’s a weapon too, a disguise, your biggest strength. You’re not the first woman to end up in this line of work, Camille. I’ve known a couple, and the ugly parts will always exist, the extra risk will always exist, but you have something I don’t.”
“Which is?”
He stopped them, facing her as he spoke. “They will always want to believe you are weak. That because you are beautiful, you are automatically fragile. They will always underestimate you, will think they can frighten you, break you, and that makes you far more deadly in this dangerous game we play than any man.”
“How?”
“Because, no matter what, you won’t break.” His jade eyes were steady as he said those words, but she couldn’t make herself respond. “You can make them believe anything you want them to. You can be tough and intimidating, like you were when we went on that job in New Hampshire, or you can make it so they never look at you as a threat. You can make it so their eyes skip right over you, or make them so distracted by your beauty that they never see the knife at their throat until their blood is pouring down their chest. That is what I want to show you next, the advantage you have.” He started to walk forward again, his eyes moving up towards the sky where the growing dawn was lightening the clouds. “We’ll talk about it tonight, after we shower and go back to sleep for a while.”
For a brief moment she saw his expression clearly, and for once she saw what was hiding behind the mask of cool control he usually had in place.
He looked proud.
He was proud of her.
“Okay, Smith. I’m in.”
He smiled a little. “I know you are, C.”
—
What are they going to do? Come back for #SatSpanks to find out! In the mean time, check out these other snippets on other blogs below.
Aug 13, 2016 | Bloghop |
It’s time for another intense #SatSpanks snippet again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. I’m not sure when I’ll have it finished (but hopefully out before the end of August). This scene is the continuation of several blog hops, if you want to catch up. Read: this one, then this one, and then this one. In this extended scene to conclude the series of bloghops Smith has Camille pinned on the ground after a vicious fight, and he’s forced her to recognize the fact that if people come after her they’re not just going to torture her, they’ll hurt her sexually as well. No one said training to be an assassin would be easy…
—
Her head was full of memories of her own screams, the nights she had begged from inside that closet to be let out, making promises if they would just give her water, feed her, swearing she’d be good. And there was no fucking way she’d ever be that person again, that weak, pathetic girl.
But, he’s right.
It was stupid to think someone else wouldn’t take advantage if they could. Sure, with everything she knew, everything she could do, the average asshole wouldn’t even get his hands on her. But someone trained? Someone that knew how to move, how to fight, how to kill? That was a whole different story, and she was literally face to face with it. Smith had her on the ground, pinned under all his strength, unable to move. If it were anyone else –
“Get. Up.” He ordered her, and her temper snapped.
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that with your weight distributed?” She shouted at him because she had tried it already, tried to twist free, but her wrists ached from the effort and she couldn’t buck him off while his heavy, muscled body sat on her thighs.
“You can’t. It’s why I pinned you like this, but I can’t do much in this position either, can I?” His head tilted, jade eyes boring into her, as she realized what he meant. Then he took a slow breath like he was preparing for something. “Session isn’t over, C. You fight me, understand?”
All she managed was a nod before his free hand landed over her throat, cutting off her air, and his knee drove between her thighs. An instant later she could barely breathe, stars sparking behind her eyes as his other knee joined the first and he spread her legs wide. Memories. Nightmares. Too many hands on her, too many times she’d been held down like this, her stomach tried to empty as panic edged in – but she shoved the darkness back, and made herself think. Smith had told her to separate, to evaluate, to survive.
Think, dammit. Where is he now?
His hips pressed against hers, his fingers tightening around her throat, and when she let go of the panic, a moment of clarity appeared in the mess of her mind.
He’s between your legs, and that means his weight has shifted.
Digging her heel into the ground beside her she lifted one hip sharply and pushed off the ground to throw him to the side. The force of it carried them over, his grip on her wrists breaking without the aid of gravity, and then she was on top. Grabbing his thumb she bent it back sharply and tore his hand from her throat, pulling in air before promptly landing an elbow into the side of his head.
The hiss of pain that came from him was short, because he was in full work mode – a cold-blooded, very well trained killer. Smith moved fast, landing a hard hit into her ribs, before winding his other fist in her hair to pull her back down, and they tumbled again. Him on top, between her thighs again, but he was still suspended a little above her and that gave her space to move. She planted her foot against his hip and kicked him off as hard as she could. Smith took a chunk of her hair with him as he was thrown off her, damn him, but she was free and she rolled backwards and got to her feet, backpedaling for distance as she pulled raw breaths through her aching throat.
Her hands itched for a knife, or a gun, everything inside her screaming for blood. Vengeance. The nightmares never ended like this, never ended with her standing above one of them, and it felt good.
She had fought. She had won.
Against Smith of all people. It was almost unbelievable.
Smith stood slowly, wiping his hands off on his pants before he rubbed at his temple. “That was good. You didn’t hold back.”
“You didn’t either,” she growled. The pain in her ribs, and the ache in her wrists, would take a day or more to fade, and she’d be covered in bruises for a week at least.
“I can’t afford to, C. They won’t give you any mercy, and you need to be prepared. So you survive.”
—
Camille is strong, and always has been, but this was one of the last pieces of the puzzle for her to be ready to run in the same circles as Smith. The darkest parts of that world, but it’s who she wants to be. A perfect killer, just like Smith. Keep coming back for more, because I can tell you that things are about to heat up between Smith and Camille! Until then, check out these other snippets on #SatSpanks!
Aug 10, 2016 | Bloghop
It’s #WIP Wednesday again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. I’m not sure when I’ll have it finished (hopefully out before the end of August). This scene is the continuation of several blog hops, if you want to catch up. Read: this one, then this one. In this extended scene Smith caught up to Camille after he told her to run and she went on the offensive, trying to take him down, but he has a lesson to teach her about the darker sides of the world of assassins.
—
When she blocked his next punch, she spun and caught the side of his head with a dizzying kick, delivering a hard strike to his ribs again as soon as she landed. His ears were ringing, but he’d taken harder hits – and she was going to understand what it was like to fight someone like him before the sun rose.
She over extended on her next punch and he landed one to her stomach, hard. When she bent forward he wrapped his arm around her throat and stepped behind her. As soon as he locked his arm in place she tried to duck her chin, grabbing onto his forearm in her attempt to break the hold, but he was ready for the move he’d taught her. Before she could fight he coiled his fist into her hair and tightened it.
With her head forced back, unable to tuck her chin under his arm to get free, she was trapped, and by his estimates she only had about twenty more seconds before she was unconscious.
Come on, fight me. Don’t give in. Figure it out. Fight.
As if she’d heard him, Camille suddenly dropped her weight, forcing him to support her fully, which bent him forward and let her wind her leg behind his. In an instant she buckled his knee, and twisted out of his grip. Camille’s first gasp of air was followed by a sharp elbow strike that felt like a stab to his kidneys as she landed atop him, before rolling to the side.
Good. A smart move, quick thinking under pressure.
But then she stayed close to try and finish the fight, and with her on the ground next to him he was able to catch one wrist as she tried to hit him in the throat. He threw one leg over hers to block the kick he knew would follow, a curse escaping her lips as she went to strike with her other arm. Twisting, Smith avoided her fist and was on top of her a moment later, her wrists pinned, his weight settling over her thighs – and as he looked down at her, with her curves under him, his brain short circuited for a moment.
All he could think of was the kiss they’d shared.
They’d been in this same position, her cheeks flushed the same way, and he remembered the eager way her lips had parted for him, how she had pressed upward into the kiss. He still dreamed about it sometimes, dreamed about more than just a kiss before waking up rock hard, but he pushed it all away. Pushed away the memory of Bill trying to convince him she wanted him. Actually wanted him – but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what either of them wanted, or how much he wanted to kiss her again. This was about what Camille needed, and more than anything she needed to understand the reality of her situation.
Smith took a moment to catch his breath, feeling the tremor in her muscles as she evaluated his position. Don’t back down now. He kept his voice empty, cold, “What could I do to you right now, C?”
“Kill me,” she spoke through gritted teeth, her anger at failing to win the fight surfacing.
“What if I didn’t want to kill you? What if I wanted information out of you?”
“Then you’d fucking torture me.”
“Or?”
Camille went quiet, her muscles still, and he forced himself to maintain eye contact with her as the situation fully settled over her. Crystal blue eyes flickered before she spoke softly, “Let me up, Smith.”
“No.” He moved his face a little closer to hers. “What could I do to you right now? Say it.”
“Let me the fuck up!” Jerking hard at his grip on her, she tried to tilt her hips and break free, but he dropped his weight over her and squeezed until he could feel the fine bones of her wrists grinding under his hand. A low whine of frustration escaped her and then she mumbled a series of curses, clenching her eyes tight.
She has to face this.
Using his free hand he grabbed her chin hard and forced her to look at him again. “You need to say it. Out loud.”
“Smith -”
“Say it!”
“You could fuck me, rape me, do whatever you wanted.” The words were hollow, distant, and somewhere in a part of his mind he was ignoring the words were barbed with broken glass and razor wire, tearing him up.
“Yes.” He swallowed down the bile in his throat. “You’re a beautiful girl, C. And you won’t always be hunting targets that don’t know how to fight. You won’t always be the hunter. Sometimes people will come after you. Trained people, strong people, and they might want you to tell them something you know.” He released her chin, running his thumb along her cheekbone before he made himself pull his hand away from her soft skin. “And they aren’t going to stick to simple torture with you.”
“Simple torture?” She rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Like torture is nothing?”
“They’re not just going to hit you, threaten you, or whatever they would do with me or any other man – they are going to do whatever they can think of to break you.”
—
Smith is willing to do whatever he has to in order to make Camille strong, even when it hurts him in the process. Make sure to come back on Saturday for the #SatSpanks conclusion of this fight! In the mean time, don’t miss these other sexy snippets below…
Aug 6, 2016 | Bloghop |
It’s #SatSpanks again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover last week, so make sure to check it out! If you’ve already read ‘Lethal Sin’ you may have been a little curious about Camille’s sordid past, about how she got involved in the assassin game, which ultimately puts her on the path to collide with Mateo in the first book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. I’m not sure when I’ll have it finished (hopefully out before the end of August), but in this scene Smith and Camille are at a standoff in their feelings for each other. Camille made the move, Smith pushed her back, she lashed out – and now Smith is more driven than ever to make her strong, even if that means teaching her hard lessons. Read the snippet from WIP Wednesday to know how they got here…
—
They crested a rise in the running path, the dark trees around them blocking out most of the road noise even though there was no breeze to make them whisper. Camille was breathing steady, slowing down with him as he stopped, and as he pushed a hand through his damp hair she turned to look at him, unspoken questions in her gaze.
Her lips parted to speak but he beat her to the first question. “Do you think you could outrun me?”
“What?” She laughed, turning towards him in a pool of lamplight. “Um, I doubt it, your legs are much longer and you run all the fucking time.”
“So… if I were coming after you, if I were hunting you down, what would you do?”
He watched the way her muscles twitched, the way she unconsciously took a half step back, bracing her foot so she could pivot and avoid him if she needed to. Smart girl.
“What would you do, C?” He stripped all warmth from his voice, but he was proud of her when she didn’t break eye contact.
“I’d run as hard as I could.”
“And when I caught you?” When, not if.
“I’d fight.” Another half step back, and her hands were loose at her sides, ready.
“Show me.” He twitched towards her and she darted a few steps away before she stopped, a flash of confusion on her face. Good, quick, but not enough. “You need to run, C. We’re starting now.”
Her perfect lips parted for just a moment, and then her face went smooth. Focused, determined, the same look he’d seen on her face when she stared down a target. This time when he twitched forward, she bolted. Her lithe body covered the path fast, and he counted slowly in his head. One… two… go.
—
What is Smith’s plan? Keep coming back to see what happens next. Everything Smith does, the good and the bad, is meant to make her stronger, to turn her into the person she becomes in Lethal Sin. While you’re waiting for the next blog hop (I post on Wednesdays & Saturdays!), check out these other snippets from some hot authors!
