CHAPTER REVEAL! ** Possess ** by Kaye Blue


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Expected Publication April 27, 2016

 

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No weakness.

Maxim has stayed alive—and on top—for twenty years through a ruthless combination of brains and brutality. He’s grown the Syndicate into one of the world’s most powerful criminal enterprises.

He cares for no one.

Except her.

The woman he never should have saved…the one who holds the remnants of his long-dead heart.

No limits.

Senna doesn’t know why Maxim spared her all those years ago, or why he’s kept her by his side. But she does know that nothing—not his beautiful cruelty, not the black void where his heart should be—can stop her from loving him. Wanting him.

Even though she shouldn’t.

No turning back.

Years of obsession sharpen to a knife’s edge when Senna begins to crave her freedom. And when an old rival discovers her existence, Maxim must fight to keep her alive, even as he battles his need to possess her completely…no matter the cost.

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Prologue

Ten Years Ago…

He stepped over the first body, careful to avoid the blood that pooled around it.

It was best not to make a mess, but as he looked around the room, his disgust rising with every passing second, he was reminded that the man who had come here before him not only had no concerns about making a mess, he reveled in doing so.

He looked around the room again, his face muscles twisting with his displeasure at what he saw. A small, tidy family room, pictures on the wall, a TV in one corner. The TV still played, but the screen was dimmed by the splattered blood that covered it.

He moved deeper into the house and maneuvered around the woman who lay in the middle of the floor.

He didn’t have to look closely to know that she, like the man at the door, was dead, so after a brief glimpse at her stiff, glassy-eyed face, he turned his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Get out here, you little bitch!”

He face muscles twisting even more, he focused on the man who had bellowed those words in a voice that vibrated with rage, menace, and more than a hint of excitement.

Santo Carmelli had centered himself in the narrow hallway, blocking any chance of exit. He was also frothing at the mouth, his entire body seeming to expand with rage—and anticipation—with each breath he took.

No different than usual, except now that Santo had had a taste of the violence he seemed to feed on, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had his fill. And when Santo was like this, the two he’d already killed wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“No more, Santo. Let’s go,” Maxim said, keeping his voice calm, disinterested, and not letting his irritation come through, difficult as it was to hide it.

If Santo heard, he gave no indication, too far gone in the bloodlust that made him so valued by his superiors and such a pain in Maxim’s ass.

Santo let out an animalistic growl and began stomping down the hallway, uncaring of the gore that coated his shoes and hands.

Maxim didn’t follow immediately, and instead debated whether he should just end this now.

Santo, never a reasonable man, had gotten worse. Much worse. And it always fell on Maxim to clean up his messes, a task Maxim had more than tired of, a task made that much worse by Santo’s sloppiness and his inability to think when he was like this.

Maxim lifted his hand to the small but lethally sharp knife he kept in his waistband.

Finally being rid of Santo would be a relief, and would allow him to focus on more pressing issues. Santo was so distracted it would be easy to get close. Two quick slashes, and one of Maxim’s biggest annoyances and biggest potential rivals would be eliminated.

A tempting prospect, but one Maxim disregarded.

He was close, and all the pieces he needed for his takeover were in place. In a few weeks, the Syndicate would be his.

Then he’d deal with the Santo problem.

Until then…

“Santo,” he said, still calm, tone not betraying how close he’d been to ending Santo’s life.

His voice must have penetrated Santo’s blind rage, for he turned and looked at Maxim.

“Fuck off, Maxim. I’m busy,” he yelled.

“I can see that,” Maxim replied. “Busy and too fucking crazy to do this right. Go now, Santo.”

He shook his head. “No fucking way. She’s back there somewhere trying to hide from me.” As Santo spoke, he glared down the hallway, yelling even louder. Then, he looked back at Maxim, eyes wild with uncontrolled rage. “You think I’m letting this go? That bitch scratched me!” he said, gesturing at the gouges that marked his arms.

Good for her.

Santo probably hadn’t even felt it, but it was good that she’d fought back. Doing so had only pissed Santo off more, and only made Maxim’s already hard job harder, but Maxim didn’t care. A few scratches were nothing, but Maxim would welcome any victory against Santo, no matter how small and symbolic or how much it inconvenienced him.

“I’ll take care of it, Santo,” Maxim said, holding the other man’s gaze.

They were equals in the Syndicate, at least in name, and Maxim had no real authority to give orders, at least not yet. But while Maxim had no official authority over Santo, he had clout, influence, and support that Santo, despite how valued he was by certain members of leadership, did not. And even when he was like this, caught up in his rage and little else, Santo knew that.

Santo’s breath began to smooth out, some of the minuscule reason he had clearing the rage in his eyes.

He finally nodded. “You’re better at this than me anyway. Make it hurt,” he said as he brushed past Maxim and down the hall.

Maxim couldn’t really argue with Santo’s words. He was better, but he wasn’t a mad dog like Santo and he didn’t relish the idea of making someone suffer without good cause, wouldn’t do so simply because Santo had demanded it.

Once Santo was out of the house, Maxim began moving, only barely listening as the others who had entered began to clean the living room, instead focused on the hallway.

Three doors, all partially ajar, darkness spilling out from them.

Two bedrooms and a bathroom, Maxim assumed based on the layout common for houses in this area. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a place like this, hunting for a person who’d had the misfortune of crossing the Syndicate’s, or Santo’s, path.

A shame, but a part of the job.

Maxim looked down the hall and quickly dismissed the door at the far end. If Maxim was right, and he’d been in this scenario far too many times to be anything else, the person Santo was chasing had planned to slip out behind him as he thrashed through the other rooms. So going to the far door wouldn’t give them the opportunity to get past him.

Which left the second bedroom or bathroom.

Both had merits.

The bedroom offered more places to hide, like the closets people were so fond of. But the bathroom had its own benefits. A window that might serve as an alternate escape, and all kinds of chemicals and cleaners that could do some damage if it came to that.

The scratches on Santo’s arms, the fact that she had gotten away, proved Santo’s prey was a fighter, so Maxim turned into the bathroom and pulled the floral shower curtain aside.

The girl was younger than him, twenty, maybe, and as he’d suspected, clutching a spray bottle of bleach so tightly that her brown fingers were turning white at the knuckles.

Her grip was so tight that it took a moment for her to react, but she did, loosening her hold and then squeezing the nozzle on the spray bottle. Her movements were jerky, panicked, and her aim was off, so the spray flew over Maxim’s shoulder and landed harmlessly behind him.

He glared at her, and her eyes widened but the rest of her body went stiff as she froze in place, staring back at him. Maxim watched her for a moment, two, saw as she debated whether to try to spray him again, saw her fingers twitch around the nozzle as she weighed the consequences of action or inaction.

Saw when she tightened her grip on the bottle.

She met his eyes, and Maxim stared back at her, curious as to what she would do. It felt like the longest time, but in reality it was only seconds. Long enough for Maxim to see that his perception of her as a fighter was true, and long enough for him to tire of their little standoff.

He pried the bottle from her hand and dropped it to the floor, staring at her, considering.

Her eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears, but tears had long since lost the power to sway him. Maxim couldn’t say for sure if they ever actually had.

He watched her for a moment longer, unmoving. Everything he knew said he should have reached for his knife.

He didn’t.

Instead he grabbed the hand that had been holding the bleach and pulled her out of the shower.

She stared up at him, blinking rapidly, and Maxim could see the beat of her pulse at the base of her throat.

“Are you going to k-kill me?” she asked in a low whisper.

No witnesses. No loose ends. She was both.

The answer was easy.

Yes.

Maxim looked at her eyes again and then shook his head.

“No.”

 

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Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.

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Book Recommendation! ~Rellik~ by Teresa Mummert

Rellik

by Teresa Mummert

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Rellik Bentley is to die for.

He can have any woman he wants and they will do anything to be with him. He uses and abuses them like drugs and tosses them out with the trash. The only thing he gives a f*ck about is his music. That is, until Ella Lighten walks into his life and stumbles upon one of his darkest secrets. In the midst of doing damage control, he begins to obsess over the mysterious woman who wants absolutely nothing to do with him.
Rellik won’t take no for an answer.

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Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1xhc67n
Kobo: http://bit.ly/ZNYANw
IBooks: http://bit.ly/1yHEMuK

goodreads link author page

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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the White Trash Trilogy, The Note, Perfect Lie, Pretty Little Things, Honor series and Safe Word.
Biography
I was a Russian spy at the ripe age of thirteen, given my uncanny ability to tell if someone was lying ( I also read fortunes on the weekends). By sixteen I had become too much of a handful for the Lethal Intelligence Ensemble (L.I.E.). I was quickly exiled to the south of France where I worked with wayward elephants in the Circus of Roaming Animals and People (C.R.A.P.). I was able to make ends meet by selling my organs on the black market for pocket change and beer money. At the age of twenty three I decided to expand my horizons and become a blackjack dealer in Ireland. I loved the family atmosphere at Barney’s Underground Liquor Lounge (B.U.L.L.). People couldn’t resist the allure of Liquor up front and poker in the rear. Eventually I became tired of the rear and headed off to the United States to try my hand at tall tales. That is what brings us here today. If you have a moment I’d like to tell you a story.
(This bio is not to be taken seriously under any circumstance.)
Teresa Mummert is an army wife and mother whose passion in life is writing. She is the author of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling novels White Trash Beautiful and Suicide Note. Born in Pennsylvania, she lived a small town life before following her husband’s military career to Louisiana and Georgia. Check out her website for samples and updates! TeresaMummert.com
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Amazon: http://amzn.to/IVe5e0
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1kgmgP6
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1xhc67n
Kobo: http://bit.ly/ZNYANw
IBooks: http://bit.ly/1yHEMuK
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1gZZfRO

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5 roses dark romance + unique creative writing

If you’re looking for a dark romance with plenty of twisty turns, look no further for you have just been transported into the fantastic dark realm of a mind-bending thriller.  This Author knows how to dial up the drama-meter and create a scrumptious “killer” BBF!   
This thrilling tale had everything I wanted a needed in a tale chalked full of lust, real-life drama,  betrayal, revenge, two lost, troubled loveable souls and dirty deeds avenged tenfold! 

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5 thump-thud hearts damaged couples finding love 

These two characters were such dark tortured soulsone could not help but feel their heart bleed for the both of them.  The atrocious acts committed upon Ella had me literally consumed with hatred for the vile lunatic crippling her emotionally and physically.  Ryder reigned supreme as a luscious hero, his past consumed his thoughts and held him back from moving forward to a promising future full of talent and a heart full of love forever searching for someone to give it to.

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5 carnal lips hot and spicy scenes 

Holy smoking stars above this Author creates sexy scenes that leave your lips chapped and your bum wiggling around seeking for some sorta relief!  The chemistry between this book hero and heroine is nearly instantaneous and absolutely believable as they both try to hold back secrets, their bodies both betray them in the end.

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5 tears emotional drama 

The story has such a emotional impact on ones psyche that you had better be ready for some real life outrage to abusers everywhere for these crimes will not go on without some sort of punishment!   Someone, somewhere is coming for you.  Thank You Teresa Mummert for bringing awareness to these evil deeds and doers out there! 

I’m emotionally spent, my mind is completely bent, and my soul has a dent for Mr. Bently!  I love him, truly, madly deeply!

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