November 9, 2013 | by Three Girls And A Book Obsession |
Principessa to the Mancuso crime family, Alexandra knows a thing or two about living outside the bounds of the law. Suffocated by the future her father has laid out for her, she makes a choice she can’t take back, changing the entire trajectory of her life.
Thrust into the dark and dangerous world of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club for her own protection, Alex finds herself faced with the last thing she needs right now: the man of her dreams. He’s sex in leather, the devil incarnate, and one hell of a kisser. But he’s also off-limits. Ryan Stone can be her friend, but he’s forbidden to be her lover.
Third-generation Forsaken, Ryan knows nothing other than life on two wheels, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He enjoys the many privileges that come with the patch, and the only laws he recognizes are the ones set-forth by his club. That is, until who he wants more than anything isn’t allowed on the back of his bike —or in his bed. Balancing his desire for her body, and need to keep her safe, Ryan tries to keep Alex at a distance. Finally having made a choice for herself, she’s done hearing the word “no” and will push boundaries even Ryan himself doesn’t dare cross.
Love is never more tempting than when it’s forbidden.
Catching sight of me in the doorway, her wispy tail maniacally swings from side to side, and she barks, runs at me, circles my feet, and then runs back to the bed and jumps back on, repeating the process two more times. Alex’s smile falls when she sees me. We haven’t spoken since that night. And I’m sick of it. Even when shit’s fucked up, I’d rather talk to her than not.
“If you’re going to stand there watching me, you might as well come in,” she says. Her voice has an edge to it when she talks to me. With Pop she’s much softer; with Ma she’s less mature. With Ian she’s something else. With me, she always seems pissed off or nervous. But right now, I don’t give a fuck. She’s talking to me.
Abandoning my post, I step inside the room. Her fallen smile morphs into something a little angrier. Her eyes narrow, brows pull together, and her jaw ticks.
“How long have you been out there?”
“Awhile. Somebody’s got to be on guard since you’ve turned into a zombie.”
“How dare you,” she snaps. Her eyes are focused on PJ as the dog rushes over and whimpers at my feet. I crouch down and rub her behind her ears. “What do you want anyway?”
“Stop acting like a baby. Talk to her,” I say. It’s not what I want to say, but it doesn’t fucking matter. She glares, turning to face me.
“Who are you, my fucking therapist?”
Her attitude takes me by surprise, setting off my temper. I came in here to be nice, at least I think I did. I don’t need this shit. “Well, you fucking need one.”
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor’s degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate more beautiful.
JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories– and everything has at least a splash of romance.
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