RELEASE DAY – MARCH 28
Born
into blood, I was a mafia princess. Raised in hiding, I was a Californian
sweetheart.
The
day my father sold my thirteen year old body to pay off a five year old debt
was the day my mother stole me in the dead of night. She protected me as she
was supposed to.
My
father may have been the king, but my mother was the queen.
The
mafia blood was hers.
That
was ten years ago. Now… the devil was on the loose.
Carlo
‘Hunter’ Rosso was my father’s right hand man and the boy I’d loved since I
could tie my own shoelaces. He was always the most ruthless and the most deadly
of all the children.
He’d
thought I was dead until the day his assignment was given: Kill Adriana and
Alexandria Romano. Kill the princess, and definitely kill the queen.
What
he didn’t know was that the queen was dead, and the princess had taken her
throne.
Blood
didn’t lie. It smeared, distorted, stained. But it didn’t lie.
My
father was going to learn the hard way that the empire he’d stolen belonged to
me.
And
so did Carlo ‘Hunter’ Rosso.
Lindsey's Review (ARC provided)
4 stars!
I have a thing for mafia books and this one didn't disappoint.
Adriana was woken in the middle of the night by her mother and taken from the only life she has ever know. Now 10 years later, Adriana is suddenly forced to face the past she fled head on, from her evil father, to the boy she was forced to leave behind.
Carol,
forced to face a life without the girl he loves, has submerged himself
into a life of killing. His heart once ripped away when he lost the girl
he vowed he would always protect must not face the fact that what he
thought was true is not. When faced with the order to kill Adriana and
her mother, Carol must decide if he really is the killer the mafia has
forced him to become or can the girl he once lost help him find that
part of himself he thought was long gone.
I
found myself consumed by this story. It is by far a lovely dovey love
story. There is a hardness to the story that I found so fitting for a
mafia tale. The story moves quickly, there aren't many long, self
internal struggles I found refreshing.
Adriana
is hard on the surface but deep down she has her soft side. Determined
win back the life that was taken from her, Adriana is a girl who knows
what she wants. I found her easy to like and root for.
Carol,
on the other hand, is a bit of a mystery. It takes a little longer to
want to root for him, but in the end I found myself wanting him to find a
way to become whole again
All
in all, I think this is a great book if you are looking for a good
story without some of the sweet and soft romance. The romance is still
there, it's just not as in your face. It's a quick moving story with a
little romance and a worth wild story.
BIO:
Blaire Drake is a pseudonym
for a New York Times bestselling author who wanted to think outside her box and
write the kind of things that would shock even them. She loves taboo romance
and pushing boundaries in her work. She also enjoys long walks on the beach at
sunset, as long as it’ll be follo
wed
by a good, old-fashioned spanking right after.
DEAR
PROFESSOR is her debut standalone novel, and her next book, PRETTY PORNSTAR, is
also a standalone novel that promises to be equally as taboo and sexy.
You
can connect with Blaire online at:
You’re
also invited to join her reader group at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1660452467533550/
EXCERPT:
“Staying, are you? Figure it's easier to kill
me in my sleep?”
Once again, he rubbed his hand across his
face. He said nothing.
“Trying to work out whose life is worth more,
right? Mine is probably worth a lifetime of comfort for you. Kill me and
everyone's happy, right? My pathetic excuse for a father gets to keep his
empire and you're taken care of for life.”
He looked at me, and his expression was a
little tortured. I was being harsh. I knew that. But I needed to be. It was
easier to provoke him and be angry with him than give in to the horrible ache
that had settled in my heart.
“Adriana...” Weak. The word was weak.
I wanted to ignore the indecision on his face,
but I couldn't.
He was considering it.
He really was.
I scoffed quietly at him and grabbed the gun
from the coffee table. His mask and gloves fell to the floor, but he made no
move to pick them up. The safety was on the gun, and I held it out to him.
“Here. Take it. I don't care, Hunter. I don't have much of a life here in
hiding anyway.”
He didn't even look at the gun. His silvery
gaze never left mine. I wished he would look away, because in that gaze, I saw
the Hunter I knew. The boy who once ripped his favorite shirt to stem the
bleeding when I fell and cut my leg, then proceeded to carry me home. The boy
who offered to pee on my foot when I got stung by a jellyfish in Mexico on
vacation when I was seven.
The boy I loved before I knew what love even
was.
“You're weak, Hunter,” I whispered. Slowly, I
turned the gun back to me and touched the barrel to my temple the way he did
earlier. His jaw clenched when my thumb edged toward the safety, and when my
finger moved to hook around the trigger, he moved.
He was like a lightning bolt. He came at me
like a flash, snatched the gun from my hand, and dropped it on the sofa. It
bounced but stayed on the seat, and then he turned on me with blazing eyes.
“Don't,” he ground out, his arms tensing and looking even bigger. “Don't ever
fucking put that to your head again.”
“Why? I was saving you the job.”
The words had barely left my lips when he
pounced on me. It was deadly, the way his hands clasped my face and his mouth
descended on mine. I staggered back into the wall, gasping at the ferocity of
his movement. Shock paralyzed me as he kissed me harshly. His tongue ran along
the seam of my mouth, and as I fisted the sides of his shirt, I bit his lower
lip.
A low growl left his throat, but he didn't
relent. He just kissed me harder. He kissed me until I was fucking spinning and
could barely string two thoughts together. Until my whole body was alight with
his touch and responding to his every movement.
He tasted like whiskey. The strong, rich taste
that lingered on his lips was heady and only added to the intoxicating way he
touched me.
And then... It hit me. He was touching me.
Kissing me.
Twenty minutes ago, he could have killed me.
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