Tuesday, January 24, 2017

.99C SALE - WRENCHED by EMMA JAMES - HELL'S BASTARD # 1 - ADULT - DARK SUSPENSE ROMANCE



WRENCHED
Hell's Bastard # 1

SALE .99c

Whisper

I was stolen as an infant and raised by my master, William Dupre. For twenty years I was hidden inside a plantation home on the outskirts of Connard, Louisiana. Stupidity killed William giving me my chance for freedom. But where do I go when I have only known the walls of his home? When I have no friends and have never made contact with another person, other than my master and mistress. 

I am a secret.

The outside world was only known to me through the movies I was granted access to. 
I’ve only ever had contact with one man who treated me as his pet to do as he wished.

I chose to run without looking back. I stole into the night on a wing and a prayer with my book, a handful of bills and my ragdoll Jenny and a head full of hope. I had to believe all of humanity was not like William and I was right.

But then I had to go and let my guard down one evening giving myself over like some sex starved fool, to the tattooed man who had strolled into the bar I was working at.

I was a coo yon, a stupid girl.

Miss Catherine

I had felt it in my bones that somethin’ was goin’ to be comin’. I didn’t know when, but dem bones of mine never lied to me. They always gave me a warnin’, a feelin’ in dem that left me to work the rest out for myself. I hadn’t had such a strong feelin’ seepin’ into dem in a long time.

There was nothin’ much to be done but sit here in front of my comforting fire in my cozy livin’ room with my crochet until I be called upon.


Sara

We talk. I lie a lot because I need to keep my identity a secret. I can’t let that personal information out. I lie about my name, because I gave my real name to a stranger today, and now I’m saddled with a damning letter.

Tonight I will be Sara, and she will help me move forward. I’m handing her the reins.


Edge

I've had too much fucking time to think about my past on the ride to Louisiana. I had blocked out that part of my life, even though it helped to shape the person I am now.

I'm ruthless.

I don't give second chances.

I get the job done.

Conscience plays no part in my world.

You f*ck me or the club over, you are done for.

I'm indeed a soulless bastard through and through.

I'm grateful I was taken from my father, or God only knows what would have become of me.

Would I even be alive?

They say blood is thicker than water.

Well, that is debatable.


Boxer

She has no reason to trust me, especially since I'm a man. I have to keep reminding myself I'm the only other man she has met in her entire life and I'm asking her to believe my words when she has no good reason to.

Jonathan Boothe

I really should get out of Dodge, but this is gonna be too good to miss.

The maestro has conducted his last song.

What could possibly go wrong?

Contains adult situations which may offend and graphic violence, but it is one hell of a fictional ride. Strap yourself in. For mature aged readers 18 +.



WRENCHED 

Amazon AUS : http://bit.ly/1Vd1oKP



EXCERPT


EDGE POV


I’ve just walked into the bar and I’m in need of a piss, so I follow the restroom sign and notice along the way how empty the bar is, while the jukebox has some romantic country song wailing out of it. I could have relieved myself on my father’s land, but even my piss was too good to be spilled on something he had owned.

I’ve taken care of business, ready for a beer, when I hear barely audible feminine grunts followed by smacking noises coming from up the stairs.

Call me curious.

I quietly climb the stairs, noting the Private: Staff Only sign nailed to the beam above my head, ignoring it as I walk toward the sounds, when I see her in a back room, punching a heavy bag in painted on, ass-hugging, little black workout shorts. I’m amused at first. My thoughts of revenge falling to second place as I cross my arms over my chest, propping myself up against the doorjamb while I watch her smack the bag with her toned arms as she makes those soft little grunts.

She has no idea I’m standing here observing her. I should walk away, but the more I stand here watching her, the more I can’t take my eyes off her. She sure is a looker.

This female is so determined to break her thumbs that I have to step in and save them. She is lean, but she still has nice curves, like a slow-winding country road travelling up her body. Her tight, rounded globes have my dick’s attention as she swings around the bag, concentrating so hard that she doesn’t notice me, sweat dripping off her pretty face, determination written all over it.

I decide then and there I want to get to know her tonight. I have seen that look. That’s the look of somebody who’s working off stress…or working off somebody.

She is quick on her feet, but she is holding her hands wrong. She doesn’t even have them strapped. She looks like she walked in and just needed to start hitting something. Her tits are a good handful, and her tight black workout top holds them secure. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, perfect for grabbing onto, and she has these big, chocolate brown eyes a man could drown in while he fucks her senseless.

She is light on her feet as she rotates around again, jabbing at the bag with her back to me. In my current status of good-guy-civilian, I have to help her out.

I walk up to her and lay my hands on either side of her shoulders to calm her movements. She stops with a gasp, her body stiffening. I watch her reaction time. It’s slow as her mind works on what to do next. She needs to get a little quicker with that.

Then it comes.

I’m ready.

She swings around, ready to shove her palm straight up into my nose, hoping to buy herself some time as she flees for help.

Somebody has been taking self-defense lessons. I actually find myself liking the fact that she has some knowledge about how to protect herself.

I dodge her predictable defensive response to my invasion of her space. Her palm goes flying through the air, hitting nothing. I twist her back around, keeping her arms locked down tight, and her back to my chest. “We can do this all night if you like, but I’m not here to hurt you. I came in for a beer and to take a piss. I’ve been on the road the last few days. If you’ll calm down, I’ll release you.”

She thinks about my words and my actions and does as she’s told. She’s na├»ve, but I won’t tell her that. Before I fully release her, I move my hands over hers and reposition her thumbs for her. “Like this.” I soften my deep, rough, gravelly voice because I can be very intimidating when I want to be. “Little lady, I was just gonna tell you you’re gonna break those thumbs the way you are hitting that bag.” From her body language, I can see intimidation will get me nowhere. I need to behave like a civil gentleman, and not who I really am.

“You’re not thinking about the care of your hands before you beat the heavy bag senseless because your mind is elsewhere.” She’s all kinds of frazzled about something, and this is an impulsive thing to do. She might have started out with good intentions, putting her workout gear on, but then it escalated to, ‘Fuck my hands. I need to hit something, pronto’.

I fully release her and she immediately takes a step away from me, twisting around to take in who was touching her, who has invaded her private workout. Her eyes widen in surprise as she looks me up and down quickly. They don’t linger too long. She just needed to assess me for any danger.

Smart girl.

All she sees standing before her is a clean-cut American guy. She would have given me a different look had she seen me in my cut, but for some reason, I don’t think it would have necessarily impressed her. There are the chicks who would fear us, and then there are the chicks who can’t wait to get in our pants. I’m not a hundred percent sure which category she was in at the moment.

I look her in the eyes. “I can tell this isn’t your first time at the bag. You’ve let yourself get distracted, little lady.”

“Thank you,” she whispers to me. “You are right. I am distracted. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Her eyes are now downcast and darting back and forth. “I’m good now, thank you. You can leave me to it.”

I sense a challenge. I saw her look of appreciation before she looked away. I never have to work hard. I get fucked with ease.

“You shouldn’t be up here. This is the private part of the bar and it’s now closed. How did you get in here?” Her voice is soft-spoken.

“The door was unlocked and the jukebox was wailing. Also, it’s only just eight o’clock. I needed a beer. What bar shuts at eight o’clock?”

“This bar,” she mumbles. She slowly looks up when I don’t respond to her two words, and then her eyes roam all over my body...again.

I’m neatly dressed and my hair is freshly cut. I’m wearing designer jeans, a checkered button up, and a leather jacket. I stopped off in New Orleans to get myself some civvies to wear on the way over. My cut is rolled up in my saddle bag on my bike.

I usually look dangerous and intimidating, but tonight, I need to be somebody else less threatening. I also need to be anonymous in this town, just a guy wanting a beer, passing on through.

Tonight, I’m nothing more than your average Joe Blow.

“Are you in charge of the bar?” I can’t sense anybody else around.

“Not normally, but for now, yes.”

She’s deciding if she will allow me a drink. I know I look tired, and now I’m all kinds of sexually frustrated, since I’ve laid eyes on this female.

“If you want a beer, I can get you one.” She’s too trusting, but I won’t knock her back. I really could do with a beer.

This new hair cut is hanging in my face, and it works to my advantage, making me look younger. I scoop it up and over my head and give her a little smile. “You look like you need a break. Can I buy you a drink?” I’m all for smooth talking her to get what I want.

I can see her weighing up whether to let me buy her a drink. Interesting, she’s making me work for it. I’m all for a challenge. She just made herself that little bit more of a game to me, so I offer up more information. “I’m just in town to visit family and decided to stop on by for a couple drinks before I head on over.” A little white lie, but I can see I have to pull some half-truths here to get this one to take the bait.

“And they can’t give you a beer?”

Shit. “They no longer drink.” Well, that part is true. “Wouldn’t be polite of me to show up with alcohol, when they’re on the wagon.”

I give her my warmest look, which I normally reserve for the people I’m hunting, because I need to pull on my resources for this female standing before me.

My brothers know if I get this look on my face I’m far more dangerous than when I look like I want to kill you. If I look like I want to kill you, then where’s the element of surprise? But if I look at you like you are my friend and you can trust me, then you won’t see me coming, motherfucker.

I need to take the edge off and get laid, and she just became my prey for the night. I’ll be fucking her before the night is through.

I hold my hand out to her to shake. “I’m Edge, and you are?”

She puts her small hand in mine and gives my hand a little squeeze. “I’m Sara.” I can see immediately she’s lying to me. She has no clue how to lie. My name’s Edge because I always have the upper hand.

She looks at me like she wants to say something more, her mouth opens a little, and then she says in a very small voice, “Ok. I’ll be over in a few minutes. Let me just clean up a bit.”

“I’ll just go wait out at the bar for you.” I have to strain my ears to hear her. “Take your time, little lady. I’ll be waiting.”

I can sniff a good girl out, and she’s definitely a good girl, but can I get her to be a bad girl tonight?

I head down to the bar and take it upon myself to flip the closed sign on and click the locks. She’s not used to closing up the bar because somebody else normally does this, and tonight, for whatever reason, she’s been left alone to do it, and look what happens.

I happen.

I take a slow look around the bar. It’s fitted out in wood and leather. A real old school kind of small town bar, with an old school kind of jukebox in the corner. The music has stopped, so I walk over to it, feeling around my pockets for a handful of coins, and I punch in several songs. The jukebox comes to life, clicking and whirring, and “One Of These Nights” by The Eagles starts playing.

I could have ducked behind the bar and gotten a couple of beers, but I don’t want to appear more than who I want her to see. I want in her pants, and being Edge, the Soulless Bastard, isn’t gonna cut it with this gal.

I take out my phone and text Hazard. I let him know I’ve arrived and I’ll be tidying everything up soon. Whisper will be meeting an untimely end. We discuss some club stuff back and forth, and then end our conversation. I delete the messages, so my phone is clean.

I’ve positioned myself so I can see when she comes back into the bar. The jukebox clicks away as it chooses the next song, “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet starts playing.

She walks in, looking around the empty bar until she locates where I’m seated. She makes a stop behind the bar and holds up two beers. I nod my head, and she brings them over. I don’t care about the brand; I just need a drink. I can see she’s showered and has put on a clean white tank top, a knitted black zip-up, little denim shorts, and flip-flops. I’m amused at the flip-flops.

“Slide on in, little lady.” I figure she’ll sit next to me, but instead, she sits across from me. “Do you talk?”

“Of course.” Her voice is so damn quiet against the jukebox playing in the background.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna have to speak up because I can’t hear you.” She slides the beer over to me and I hold it up to her. “Thank you,” I tell her, then take a deep swig.

She takes a long drink from her bottle and makes a little face while she looks about nervously. I need to go in for another swoop of getting her to trust me. This chick needs to chill. “Look, Sara, if you don’t want to talk and have a beer, that’s fine by me. I just thought you looked interesting and we might get along tonight.”

“No. You are great. It’s me. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.” Her eyes turn to me, but can’t stay on me for too long. “I received some unwanted news today.”

“Is that what the pounding on the heavy bag was all about?”

She nods her head. “My trainer would be disappointed all his hard work went down the peach pit the minute he left me alone.”

Peach pit? I like this woman. “Is he your boyfriend?” Of course she would have somebody. I take a long swig out of my bottle, draining the contents. I’m about to cock-block my own dick and get out of here.

“Oh, no!” She laughs and I like the sound of it. “He’s more a father figure to me. He’s away for a few days, and I was just feeling a little tense. He will help me sort it all out when he gets back.”

I give my dick a mental double-thumbs-up, deciding maybe she’s worth the challenge tonight after all. It’s very rare a female doesn’t push herself on me, or rub her tits in my face when I invite her for a drink. Actually, it’s rare more than one woman isn’t vying for my attention at the same time. This is something new to me. She’s put a small chink in my ego.

When I’m hunting, I need to know when to back off and when to go in for the kill. This girl needs more effort, or else I will blow it before I can get to the finish line.

WARPED
Hell's Bastard # 2




The Hunt Is On.

WHISPER

I was never meant to be free.
Evil has taken from me again.
I’ve lost the two people I’ve grown to love because another of Hell’s bastards has staked his claim on me and stolen me away.
What gives another human being the right to take another’s innocence and try to destroy their soul?

EDGE

We were never meant to meet.
Our lives collided and spun out in different directions.
Now it’s a race against time.
Time she doesn’t have.
This is on my head.
I f*cked up.

What happens when a Soulless Bastards MC enforcer is on the hunt for the f*ckers involved in taking the sweet and wild girl? 

No Mercy happens.

Contains adult situations which may offend and graphic violence, but it is one hell of a fictional ride. Strap yourself in. For mature aged readers 18 +.


WARPED 








CONTORTED
Hell's Bastard # 3

Releasing 25th January 


EDGE

I’ve decided there’s no virtue in patience. 
It’s f*cking torture.
And that goes for DM Christmas songs too.

MATHIAS

Good girl.
Be afraid of me. 
It will make my job easier.
Until she's caught between a desk and a Hell's bastard.


ROSE

I am a shell to be f*cked with.
But I am a survivor.
I have my own Sasha Fierce.
Just give me a reason.


CEZAR

You haven’t seen my bad side yet.
It will leave you speechless.


WHISPER

Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell.

Survival has become a waiting game, choreographed by a schedule to keep me complacent.
Mathias and Rose are my constants. 
My frenemies.
What happens when Cezar turns the tables?

Just remember to breathe.


Contains adult situations which may offend and graphic violence, but it is one hell of a fictional ride. Strap yourself in. For mature aged readers 18 +.




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