Aug 3, 2016 | Bloghop |
Hey, lovelies, it’s WIP Wednesday again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I just 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.
—
The shower had been going for too long, the steam of it making the room feel humid in the boiling heat of summer. Not even the little air conditioner tucked under the window could counteract it all – and since it was only 3AM that was even worse. The day was going to be like being in an oven, or hell, but hell never seemed far away from Camille even in the dead of winter.
She’d had another nightmare.
Another sharp gasp of air that had ripped him from sleep, on alert, reaching for his gun – but then he’d heard it.
Another series of soft pleas escaping her lips that would never be spoken if she were awake. A chorus of ‘stop’ and ‘don’t, please’ that burrowed inside his head and made Smith’s stomach turn.
For weeks after Clinton died Camille had been unstoppable. They’d done three jobs back to back, and she was cold, efficient, fearless. One of the men had even tried to run, targeting her because he assumed she was weak, but Camille had caught him and put him on the ground hard, ending him with a shot to the back of the head. Then she’d looked over at him, a small, proud smile creeping across her lips – and she’d asked him if they could catch a movie.
As if pulling the trigger were as easy as breathing to her.
Death didn’t bother her. Killing didn’t bother her. The intense training he made her keep up with only seemed to fuel the fire inside her. But the nightmares? The memories of what those men had done to her? They were eating her alive.
It’s going to get her killed. You know it is.
He growled under his breath and checked his phone again for a voicemail that he knew wouldn’t be there. When he verified no missed calls he scrolled down to Lacroix’s name, prepared to call and threaten him until he found Roger or Barry. Or both of them. Like he should have already. There were two more names on her list, two more to kill and then maybe she’d be able to sleep. Maybe she could heal, she could be the perfect assassin. No fear. No mercy.
But she’s not there yet.
Just as he went to select Lacroix’s number to vent some of his frustration on the man the bathroom door opened and she stepped out. Her blonde hair was darker from the water, slightly wavy as it hung over her bare shoulders, and the towel was much too small. It stopped so high on her golden thighs that he had to swallow before he spoke so that he could keep the memory of her naked body from appearing behind his eyes.
Focus. You need to help her.
“Want to go for a run?” he asked.
“I just showered.”
“So?” he asked and her blue eyes lifted, still too empty.
What happens in your nightmares, C? What in the hell did they do to you to?
Questions he could never, would never ask.
For a long minute she stared at him, and then she turned towards the bedroom letting her voice drift back towards him, “Fine. Give me a few to get dressed.” When she pushed the door closed behind her he knew she needed the space, he knew she really just needed to rest and get back to normal. If he were a good man he would let her do that, he would take her out to a comforting breakfast in the morning, and then train like they normally did.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. Being gentle would get her killed, and she was too important to him now to let whatever strange version of feelings he felt get in the way of making her strong. The way she had reacted to the nightmare had given him an idea, cold and calculating. An idea to take her training to the next level, to make her stronger while she was still raw, still in the worst mental state – and he was an absolute bastard for it.
—
What is Smith about to do? Come back on #SatSpanks 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 Saturday, check out these other snippets from some hot authors!
Jul 30, 2016 | Bloghop |
Look! It’s time for #SatSpanks again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I just premiered the cover earlier this 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 at this point in the book Camille and Smith have been together around two years, she’s got some kills under her belt, and her attraction for him has been steadily growing. In the last snippet on #WIP Wednesday she kissed him, and Smith pushed her away. Camille made it clear she was upset, let’s see how Smith feels…
—
It was a Tuesday night, which meant there were only a few scattered regulars when Smith wandered to the back of the bar and dropped into his seat. Albatross Brewing glowed above his head, and Bill himself walked over with a glass of bourbon and set it down in front of him. “What did she do?”
“You make such assumptions.”
“I can read you by now, Smith. If you wanted anonymity you shouldn’t have picked my bar to be your favorite haunt.” He pushed the glass across the table towards him. “Now, take a drink, and talk.”
Listening to the guy he viewed as one of his only ‘friends’ in the world, even though Bill knew basically nothing about him, he took a drink. The sweet burn of the bourbon wound its way down into his stomach, bursting with a warmth that he needed. It would serve as a balm to the things he’d said to Camille. It would help him rebuild the barriers. “She kissed me.”
“Alright.” Bill shrugged, leaning back in the chair. As Smith stared he waited for the man to say something else, to react, but he stayed stoic.
“You’re not listening, I kissed her. I kissed C.”
“I thought you said she kissed you?”
“Yes! She did, that’s what I said.” Smith growled under his breath and threw back more of the bourbon than he should have.
“And you kissed her back?” Bill asked, and Smith’s stomach turned. All he could manage was a nod, but Bill just shrugged again. “She’s a beautiful girl.”
“A girl. Right.” His stomach twisted further, and he tried to stifle it by finishing the bourbon.
“Is that the deal? Her age?”
“Yes.” Smith nodded and tilted the empty glass towards himself, disappointed that he’d finished it too fast, but Bill reached forward and pulled it free from his grip.
“How old is she?” He held up a hand. “Wait, before you answer that I’m getting us both bourbon. I think we’re going to need it.”
Smith nodded and watched as the man wandered back behind the bar. He snagged Miranda before she headed towards the tables and nodded at the two guys sitting at the bar before he brought another glass and an entire bottle of bourbon back to the table.
“Really think we’re going to need the bottle?” he asked as Bill took his seat again.
“You tell me,” he muttered as he refilled their glasses and nudged a full one in front of Smith.
“I won’t turn it down.”
“Me either. This is the good stuff.” Bill took a drink and Smith mirrored him, letting the silence reign for a moment until the bartender who had been the only constant in his life for years cleared his throat. “So… how old is she, Smith?”
Another draught of bourbon filled his mouth so he wouldn’t curse needlessly, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid this discussion. Hell, he’d apparently come to Bill’s to have this conversation. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you -”
“I don’t know. She’s never told me her age.”
Bill blew out a breath slowly, nursing his bourbon like an old pro, while Smith was already halfway through his second glass. Liquid courage, eh? Leaning forward, Bill’s watery eyes lifted to him. “Listen, all these kids look young to me. I’m in my sixties now, even you look like a baby. What are you, twenty-three, twenty-four?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“You’re a baby yourself, what are you worried about?” Bill sat back and laughed, resting a hand on his stomach.
Smith flinched, remembering her screams in the night just before she’d wake up crying and cursing. It was worse now that he had even a flicker of what caused them. Steve, Joe Wilson, and the others… and the things they had done to her at God only knew what age. “It’s complicated.”
“You’re joking, right? She’s gorgeous. Hell, half the bar gets wood every time she walks in here. If I were your age I’d be -”
“Bill.” Interrupting him so he wouldn’t finish the thought, Smith kept his eyes on the last inch of amber liquid as he tilted it to and fro, trying to suppress the urge to gut the next man that looked at her with a gaze even halfway lecherous.
She’s not yours to be jealous over.
Raising his free hand up Bill shook his head. “I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, Smith. Mother Mary knows I’d be talking to you about something other than your love life if I wanted to interfere, but everyone sees how she looks at you. That girl is in love with you.”
“She does not love me,” Smith growled, and he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Bill or himself.
—
Smith is trying so hard to be the good guy, but it’s infuriating for Camille (and me, to be honest!). He’s a ruthless killer, merciless, cold to everyone – except for Camille. Anyone else think this is not their last kiss?
While you’re thinking it over, check out these other snippets below!
Jul 27, 2016 | Bloghop
Hey, lovelies, it’s WIP Wednesday again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I just premiered the cover yesterday, 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 at this point in the book Camille and Smith have been together around two years, she’s got some kills under her belt, and their sparring sessions are a little more intense now that she knows what she’s doing. Of course, this means the sexual tension between the two is a little more intense as well!
—
“Giving up so soon?” he taunted.
“You wish.” Twisting, Camille pushed herself up from the floor and ducked his first attack, countering with a hard hit to his diaphragm. She caught his attempt to grab her, and lifted her leg between them to kick him back. With little air left in his lungs, Smith stumbled back and landed flat on his ass. He coughed from the floor, and she stayed back, having learned that the fight was never over unless he said it was. “Need a break?”
“Ha. A few kills under your belt and you think you’re top dog now?” Smith flipped to his feet and stood, the smirk at his lips one she knew all too well by now. He was about to make it much, much harder to put him on the ground.
This will be fun.
“Nine. Nine kills, Smith. That’s more than a few.”
“Your first two don’t count.” With a lunge he snagged a knife off the coffee table and swung at her, and she jerked backwards to avoid it.
Fuck. He was not playing around tonight.
She paced him, making him follow her around the hotel room so she could get the meter of his steps, measure when he was comfortable taking a swing with the blade. The next time he thrust, she blocked with her forearm, and grabbed his wrist, driving her thumb into the tendons until his grip went slack. With a twist she ripped the knife free from his palm, and threw it. It tumbled end over end, and then buried its tip in the headboard of the bed.
“Yes!” Camille cheered, and then he tackled her, his shoulder slamming into her stomach just before she hit floor and all the air left her lungs. An instant later he was hovering over her, both of her wrists pinned, his weight distributed at the top of her thighs so she couldn’t counter.
“What did you forget?” he panted, his breath brushing over her cheek.
“I forgot to put you on the ground after I disarmed you.” The words were automatic because she was too distracted to consciously respond with his weight on top of her. Smith was barely inches above her, the warm smell of his skin, his sweat, his aftershave, floating in the space between them – and his mouth was so close. Just an inch or so, and she could…
Before she could stop herself she had lifted her face to his, and their lips met. It was a kiss, warm and soft, and he pressed her back to the floor, nibbling at her lip as it continued and there was no stifling the quiet moan that escaped her as they tentatively deepened the kiss. With a brief brush of tongues, Smith suddenly jerked himself back, sitting up on her hips, and then he threw himself backwards. He landed gracelessly a few feet away, and she sat up, staring at him as if she could mentally confirm that it was okay, that she wanted it, but her tongue was tied up in the knots he’d made of it when he’d kissed her back.
“Session is over,” he said and shoved himself off the floor. A moment later he was shut in the bathroom of their hotel room, while she was still sitting, stunned, beside the coffee table.
His touch was a phantom on her skin, his lips a ghostly memory across her own, but she stayed where she was and memorized it. The taste of his lips, the salt of his sweat, the incredible gentleness of his touch combined with all the raw power of his body, of what she knew he was capable of – she had to memorize it because it was probably the last time he’d ever touch her like that. “Shit…”
—
It took so long for Camille to make a move, and she’s so damaged that this scene broke my heart to write it. What happens next is even worse, and what’s after that… worse. WHY do I like torturing all of you and myself at the same time?! Well, I’m a masochist, so that explains me, but GAH. I always put my characters through the ringer before they can find their way. Hope you’re enjoying the ride! There will be more on #SatSpanks and #WIPWednesday each week until I finish this beast. In the mean time, enjoy these other authors below…
Jul 23, 2016 | Bloghop |
Hi there, lovelies, we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’, the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I just premiered the title of this book to my mailing list this past weekend, and I can’t wait to show you guys the amazing cover (once we’re done tweaking it). 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 Camille is out training with Smith and he is watching her, tormented by the knowledge she’s shared of why she started killing in the first place…
—
With a groan Smith stopped at the side of the path, staring off at the rolling lawn of the park in front of him where couples were taking picnics, kids were playing, dogs barking – it was so picturesque, peaceful.
“What the fuck, Smith? Are you trying to ditch me?” C slowed to a stop next to him, her breathing a little harder than it would have been six months before when she was in peak shape.
“Really, C? Language. There are children.” He chastised her, but in truth he didn’t really mind. Her mouth was just another aspect of her personality that kept him from going cold through and through, she was his lifeline to a normal world – even if she didn’t know it.
“Yeah, right, the kids. I’m sure they’ve never heard the word fuck in their lives.” Bracing her hands on her knees she took deep breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth until it slowed.
“We have another mile to go.”
“Are you fucking kidding? We’ve gone three miles already, you think this dickbag is going to try and run from me? For three miles?” She shoved the errant strands of white blonde hair off her forehead, clearing the sweat from her face with her forearm. Her skin was getting a hint of the gold of summer already, and as they stood there he noticed the way men glanced at her in her running gear. Skin tight from head to toe, and it made him want to block her from their view, cover her in a shapeless sack – or kill them for looking.
Who are you to feel possessive? No one.
“If you want to argue we’ll run two more, it’s up to you.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she muttered but then she took off ahead of him. From behind he tried to ignore the sight of her body moving underneath the black and pink running pants, and instead focused in on her right leg. Was her ankle wobbling more than the left? Was she still unsteady? Was the muscle ready for a fight if she needed it?
She’s ready. You know she is.
And that meant a job. A kill. Her first in this new life.
—
Even with the knowledge he has, Smith isn’t cutting Camille any slack, and it’s working. It makes her stronger, it makes her work harder, and it makes sure that she doesn’t give any of her targets the benefit of the doubt. She’s cold, hard, and it’s exactly who she needs to be to survive in this world. Empathy only gets you killed.
Check out these other snippets from other books below!
Jul 20, 2016 | Bloghop |
Hey, lovelies, it’s WIP Wednesday again and we’re back with more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I just premiered the title of this book to my mailing list this past weekend, and I can’t wait to show you guys the amazing cover (once we’re done tweaking it). 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 Camille is recovering from a bullet wound she received going after a target of her own, and Smith saved her and he is pissed for several reasons. The largest of which is the fact that he’s realizing a group of men brutalized her when she was younger. Let’s see what happens…
—
“Smith -”
He turned and faced her, the controlled exterior cracking while she watched. “You tell me right now, right now, where the last three men are.”
“I don’t know.”
“This is not a game, C!” He shouted and came to the end of the bed, his hands gripping the footboard. “What they did…” his voice was a growl as he shook his head, “I don’t even know what they did, I don’t want to know because I’ll lose it, but I will make them suffer before they die. I swear it, but you need to tell me where they are.”
“I don’t know, Smith.”
“Do not lie to me about this. This is not the time for you to be territorial, this is the time where you tell me where they are so I can teach them exactly how much pain they can endure before they die.” His words made her eyes go wide. A vicious, uncontrolled side of him showing itself that made her wonder exactly who Smith had been before he’d become the man she knew. It made her imagine the kind of man he was when he was on a job.
“Holy shit, Smith, I really don’t know.” An exasperated sigh came from him as he interrupted her, throwing his hands up. “I’m not lying! I only knew how to find Joe because he talked all the fucking time. Bitched about that damn auto shop to Steve constantly. Even if I wasn’t in the room I could hear him complaining.” Slamming the glass of water down on the side table she pushed herself into a sitting position, ignoring the twinge of pain in her thigh as her own anger returned. “And even if I did know, you’re not killing them for me. I’m not helpless.”
“You couldn’t pull the trigger when it came down to it, C.” The accusation felt like a second gun shot, burrowing into her chest with a burning, vicious ache. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as she glared at him.
“I didn’t get the chance to, he fucking shot me.”
“And why didn’t you shoot first? Why the hell didn’t you ask me for help? To go with you?”
“BECAUSE I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D LET ME!”
—
There’s a lot for these two to work through as Camille moves towards becoming the assassin both she and Smith want her to be, but her first attempt didn’t exactly go smoothly. Can Smith get her to control her anger so she can think clearly, and can Smith admit to himself his feelings for her? Those are details only the book will reveal. Stay tuned! In the mean time, enjoy these snippets from some other authors…
Jul 13, 2016 | Bloghop
Hello again, #WIP It Up Wednesday! I’m still working on the prequel book for ‘Lethal Sin’, and it’s so dark, and twisted, and a lot of fun. 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 book. I was so caught up in Camille’s story myself that this prequel started flowing out. It’s not named yet, and I’m not sure when I’ll have it finished, but in this scene we get some hints of what happened to Camille to set her on the path she’s on. Unfortunately, things aren’t going well for her because the man she targeted just shot her in the leg. Yikes, right?
—
“Don’t touch me,” Camille hissed through gritted teeth.
“Little girls shouldn’t play with guns.” Joe ignored her, grabbing her breast through the hoodie, twisting hard until she arched and cried out in pain again. “Because you know what happens? Bad shit. Bad shit happens to little girls who play with guns, and you’re about to find that out first hand. I’ve got a couple of friends who would love to help me teach you that lesson.”
There was a buzzing in her ears, and she recognized it from the times Smith had practiced knockout holds on her. Except this time there was no arm across her throat, and Joe was not going to let her tap out. If she didn’t do something she was going to black out, and then Joe Wilson would have her. Rolling her head to the side she could see her gun just behind him all she had to do was buy 5.56 ammo online from Palmetto State Armory, completely out of reach, and the sight of it made a cry break through her lips. “Shh, shh. Admit it, you just came back because you wanted me to fuck you again. Wanted my big cock right here…” His hand slid south, under the edge of her yoga pants and the brush of his fingers across her underwear jolted her into action. Fuck no. Never again. She drove her heel into his nose, snapping his head back, and then twisted her hips to kick him back with her good leg, the excruciating pain as her weight settled over the wound in her thigh made her vision go dark for a moment, but she gasped and lifted herself onto her elbow, dragging herself towards her gun. “The fuck? You fucking cunt, I’m going to -”
Just as her hand brushed the metal, she heard a shot, and she braced for another impossible pain that would mean she was fucking dead. That her life was over at the hands of one of the men who had ruined it in the first place. Her body instantly ran a check to see where else she’d been hit, but all that came in response was the horrible throbbing in her thigh. Tightening her grip on the gun she rolled to her back again, and raised it to where Joe had been a moment before, but he wasn’t there.
Propping herself up she couldn’t process what she saw. Joe, on his back, leg bent at a strange angle half underneath him, with a bullet hole through the center of his forehead. Blood was already pooling underneath him, and her vision shuddered, the edges flickering like a cheap movie reel. “What the fuck -”
“Jesus Christ, C…” the low voice from behind her made her twist at the waist, aiming her gun behind her, and Smith froze in place, his own gun angled down at his side.
“Smith?” Her voice cracked as she said it, and he nodded slowly.
“Yes, it’s me. I need you to lower that gun so I can check on you.” His jade eyes glanced at the weapon in her hand, the one that was shaking, her knuckles white from how hard she gripped it.
With more effort than she thought it would take she slowly eased her grip and set it on the floor beside her, before promptly collapsing to the cement.
“What did you do, C, what on earth did you do…” He slid to the floor beside her, running his hands over her fast until he ran his palm over the bullet hole in her thigh. There was so much concern in his face, something that almost looked like fear, and he looked beautiful. Deadly and beautiful.
—
Of course Smith shows up like a … well, not a white knight. A very bloodied, dark knight? Is that a thing? Oh well, new fairy tale. With a lot more cursing. More my style anyway! Well, I’m going to get back to writing this beast, until the next bloghop (I post #WIP Wednesday and #SaturdaySpanks), check out these other sneak peeks below:
