Happy
Release Day to Stylo Fantome and the final book in the Kane Trilogy -
Reparation! Enjoy a sneak peek into the book below and make sure to enter the
giveaway! This week is the blog tour so be on the lookout for what the blogs
have to say in addition to a little surprise at the end of the tour for fans of
the series. All THREE books will be on SALE so grab it while you can!!!
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.
She showed Ang the sideboard where Jameson
kept most of his every day things – a lot of cuff links, tie pins, watches,
things of that nature. Everything plated in gold and diamond and platinum.
While Ang guffawed over everything, Tate made her way over to the bed. Knelt on
top of it and crawled towards Jameson's side. “Holy fuck, Tate, this table
holds more money than I'll ever see in my life. I don't know whether to be
impressed, or disgusted,” Ang called out from behind her. She pulled a box out
of Jameson's night stand and then turned back to Ang. “Look at this,” she
offered, knee walking back towards him. He met her at the edge of the bed and
she opened the box. “This is a Jacob and Co. watch.” “It's awesome,” he said,
taking the box into his hands and looking over the timepiece. “It's worth over
$300,000.” “Fuck!” he
exclaimed, and dropped the box. It bounced on the mattress and rolled, the lid
snapping shut. She laughed and picked it up, sat it on the pillows. “I know,
right? Who would spend that kind of money on a watch?” she asked. “Why the fuck
would you even let me touch that? That watch is worth more than I am,” he laughed as well, but he
looked a little shaky. “I think it's funny. All this stuff, it's silly,” she
said, reaching out and playing with the button on the blazer he was wearing. He
was taller than Jameson, but leaner. The blazer was pretty loose on him. “It's
fucking stupid. A watch!? Why? How often does he wear it?” Ang asked. Tate shrugged,
unbuttoning the jacket and pushing it open. “Not often. Once in Spain. You
should see the shit he keeps in the safe,” she said, plucking at his shirt. He
began absent mindedly batting at her hands while he glanced around the room.
“You're shitting me. Please tell me it's behind a huge portrait of like his dog
or something,” he chuckled. She hooked her fingers inside his belt. “No. It's
in the closet,” she replied. “Tate, what are you doing?” he asked, finally
clueing into the fact that she was touching him. She smiled up at him. Ang
liked to pretend he liked being poor, turned up his nose at rich people, but
really, he was fascinated by it, and even better, distracted by it. It was one of the things that had attracted
him to Tate, she knew. It was probably part of what drew him to her sister. Bitch. “What? I feel like I haven't
touched you in a long time,” she said, pulling him close and wrapping her arms
around his waist. She pressed the side of her face to his chest and he sighed,
wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Are you really okay? You kinda scare
me, sometimes,” he mumbled. She ignored the sadness in his voice and worked her
hands up his back. He felt so different than Jameson. “I'm okay, Ang. I'm happy
here. Everything is great,” she whispered, massaging her fingers back down his
back. He shivered under her touch. “You can always come live with me,” he said
softly. She laughed low in her throat and pulled away a little, running her
hands up and down his sides. “Do you think your girlfriend would appreciate that?” she asked, watching him from
under hooded eyelids. He ran his hands under her hair, lifting it away from her
shoulders and piling it all on the back of her head. “I don't think she'd care,
but more importantly, I don't
care. You've been my best friend for a million years,” he replied. She smiled,
running her teeth over her bottom lip while she pressed herself against him.
“Sometimes a little more than a friend,” her voice was soft. He laughed,
scratching his fingers over her scalp. “Most of the time. God, we used to have
fun,” his voice fell into a murmur as his eyes wandered over her face. Please, don't hate me after this. I have to
get my soul back. “Used to?” she asked, her voice soft as she ran her
hands along his body. “Tater tot, we haven't had fun since Satan came to town,”
he chuckled, his hands moving to the back of her neck. “Hmmm, he's not in town
right now,” she reminded him. He narrowed his eyes. “No, he's not, and I doubt
he would appreciate me seducing his succubus in his lair,” he told her. “I
doubt he'd care. Besides, succubi are supposed to sleep with lots of people,”
she pointed out. “Succubi? Is that how you pluralize it?” “Succubuses sounds
weird.” “Like a slutty bus.” “Slutty buses.”
“Wait,” he stopped. “Did you just imply that you want to sleep with me?” “Ang.
If I laid it on any thicker, I'd be staked out on the mattress,” she said
bluntly. “I thought it was 'against
the rules', or some bullshit,” he said, glancing around the room, like
he was checking for hidden cameras, or waiting for Jameson to pounce out of the
shadows and eat him. “That was before; besides, since when have you cared about
what upsets Jameson?” she evaded answering him. “I don't. But I don't want to
piss off Ellie, either. She's not exactly as free a thinker as you and I,” he
laughed. I'm counting on that.
“That's not fair. She wouldn't know you if it wasn't for me – she owes me a
finders fee,” Tate mock pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. He pinched it
between his thumb and finger. “What's going on with you, babydoll? Satan not
giving it to you good enough?” he laughed. She tilted her head down, drawing
his thumb into her mouth and sucking on it. He hissed air through his teeth.
She let him go and he dragged his thumb down her chin. “How about you stop
worrying about him for tonight. I know I have,” she said in a husky voice. Like that would even be possible. She
knew she had him. The tempation to put something over on Jameson was too great
for him. She knew Ang very well, knew how to get to him. They hadn't slept
together in a long time – since August. They had quit cold turkey, and he
hadn't had a say in the matter. In fact, he'd been pretty angry about it for a
while. Here was his chance to strike back. Fuck Tate, in Jameson's bed. In Satan's home. Much too hard to
resist. She closed her eyes as his head lowered towards hers. Please, please don't hate me.
♥READ THE SERIES♥
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