‡SYNOPSIS‡
The Devil has met his match
When Tatum O'Shea decides it's time
for some payback, no one is safe from her new game - not even the devil
himself. Tate is going to get her happily ever after, even if it means making
everyone else unhappy in the process.
But a persistent Jameson, a meddling
Sanders, and an amorous baseball player make it very hard for a girl to keep
her focus, and suddenly it seems Tate has a few too many suitors for her fairy
tale ending.
Sometimes, it's very difficult to tell who Prince
Charming really is ...
WARNING: may induce Kindle
throwing, screaming at fictional characters, and possibly a few tears. Also
graphic sexual situations and sadomasochistic themes.
‡EXCERPT‡
Jameson watched the Bentley pull up the driveway.
Sanders got out of it, alone. They hadn't spoken the entire time. Jameson
hadn't called – if he had, he probably would've lost his shit. And he didn't
want to do that. Sanders probably hadn't called for the very same reason.
“Nice little vacation you had there,” Jameson
commented, taking in Sanders' rumpled suit.
“I wouldn't say that,”
the younger man replied, heading into the house and straight into the kitchen.
Jameson followed him.
“I almost thought you
had left with her,” he voiced his fear. Sanders stopped in front of a cupboard.
“I
would never do that. I simply tried to reason with her,” he said.
“Oh really. And how
did that go?” Jameson snorted. Sanders snorted as well and pulled open the
cupboard.
“Not well. She is
severely unbalanced.”
Jameson was a little shocked as he watched Sanders pull
a bottle Jack Daniel's out of the cupboard. He walked up next to him, watched
as Sanders got a tumbler out of another cupboard and then poured about
three-fingers worth of the amber liquid into the glass.
“She's also a bad
influence. What are you doing?” Jameson demanded. Sanders handed the glass to
him.
“This is for you,” he
replied. Jameson took the glass.
“Oh god, why?” he
groaned, then knocked back the liquid.
“She offered to sleep
with me.”
Jameson started choking on the whiskey. Sanders pounded
on his back, but Jameson waved him away. Stumbled over to the sink and turned
on the faucet, stuck his mouth underneath it. He must have heard wrong. He
couldn't believe it.
“I'm sorry,” he gasped
for air, leaning against the counter. “You'll have to repeat that. What
happened?”
“Sex.
She offered to have sex with me.”
“I see. Did you take
her up on this offer?”
Pause.
Oh my god. I have to kill Sanders. How am I
going to do this? That stupid bitch ...
‡AUTHOR BIO‡
Crazy woman living in an undisclosed
location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have
been writing since ..., forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been
told that I remind people of Lucille Ball - I also see shades of Jennifer
Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I'm clumsy a lot, and I
say the F-word A LOT.
I like dogs more than I like most
people, and I don't trust anyone who doesn't drink. No, I do not live in an
igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there's
your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair - both a curse and a
blessing - and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can't understand me.
Yeah. I think that about sums me up.
‡Kane Trilogy‡
Prior
Books in the Series
Book 1 – Degradation
Book 2 – Separation
Amazon Δ B&N
‡GIVEAWAY‡
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