Four songs later, his hands haven’t moved lower than my waist or higher than my bra, and I’m burning up from the sweaty dance floor and desire.

  “Need the restroom,” I yell into his ear and point to the door.

  He nods and helps me over to the door. I knock, and blessedly, the restroom is empty. I hurry in and go into the stall. The door opens as I’m peeing, but I’m so lost in the sensation of relief that I don’t pay much attention to who came inside.

  I finish, flush, and stand at the sink washing my hands when I feel a sharp sting in my arm.

  “OUCH! What the fuck?” my voice trails off into a slur.

  “Easy, Preciosa.” My knees grow weak, and Zek catches me in his arms.

  Alarm bells are going off in my head. I’m in the bathroom alone with a virtual stranger who has drugged me, and my eyes start to water. As tears run down my face, I manage to use my remaining strength to growl at him.

  “Yoouu proomisseed,” I barely get the words out before my eyes grow heavy.

  “I promised to be a gentleman on the dance floor. In here, I’m just Pirate.” The drug takes me out into the darkness, but not before I hear him muttering to himself.

  “Gonna enjoy tearing this fucking outfit off you.”

  The End

  Pick up the story from Genesis’s and Pirate’s POV in Pirate’s Plunder here

  Scroll to read chapter one :)

  Chapter One - Pirate’s Plunder

  Present Day

  “I appreciate the extra cover, but when the fuck is sanitation going to end this strike? It smells worse than Cyclone’s ass out here.” I roll my eyes at Knight, my vice president, and crouch lower when the back door to the building we’re watching opens.

  “Shh,” I hush him and push his head down into one of the bags of trash we’re hiding behind.

  “Fuck, it’s her.” I pull Knight away with me when I back up to the alley wall.

  “I fucking hate you. Ugh,” I shake him and then move around the corner quickly, make my way back to where we left our Harleys.

  I turn to my left so I can see him, and my hackles raise.

  After all these years, the fact that my eye was taken for a crime my father didn’t commit makes me burn with rage. And that little princess I just watched walk out onto the street is my ticket for revenge.

  A father for a father. I’ll let her keep her eye on it; after all, the father’s crimes should never fall on the children.

  “Let’s get out of here. Call Church. I want everyone there when we arrive.” Knight nods and pulls out his cellphone to send a group text, all the brothers in my club will get in moments.

  Technology is a fantastic fucking thing.

  “Gross, I need to shower and a bleach soak.” How did I end up with such a melodramatic man as my vice president?

  Probably the same way I found my Sergeant at Arms, Spector, in the ghettos of Harlem, where we all are just trying to survive, and all we had were the clothes on our backs.

  I was luckier than others.

  Pops left me everything, and once my godfather retired and returned to Texas, I stepped up and took my spot as the prodigal son of Brass, the fallen President of the Saints’ Outlaws MC at the ripe old age of twenty-five.

  It took me twelve years to find out the name of the man responsible for my parents’ murder, but only six months to figure out he had a secret daughter being raised by his employer. I’m sure he hoped that would keep a target off her back, but I’m going to prove how wrong he was.

  I’m not only going to take her from him, but I’m going to tie us together in a way that he’ll never be able to break. I’m going to marry the only known heir to New York’s Cosa Nostra, the head of the Italian mafia.

  I think over my plan for the hundredth time as we sneak our way through the city heat back to the clubhouse. Pops’ old garage, a warehouse he transformed into a chop shop in the early seventies, which I’ve converted into a legitimate repair and customization shop, sits on the edge of Spanish Harlem by the Third Avenue Bridge.

  It’s got easy access to the Bronx, the Harlem River, and, if needed, LaGuardia airport.

  The only way into our compound is by a gated fence off Lexington, and to the naked eye, we’re just a long-forgotten building on the river. We have no Google footprint, and all our customers are vetted. No one enters my property without my knowledge.

  Spector and his little side business ensure that.

  Having a retired cyber specialist who ran the SEAL teams for the Navy is really handy. The fact that he’s family and volunteered for the job when he retired was a godsend. He runs his special ops off our dock, and I don’t ever question a thing.

  We roll up to the gate, and my guys open the way for us to enter.

  “Everyone’s ready,” Knight calls out to me as I park my Harley.

  “Go grab one of the Tools and put them on the girl. I want to know everything by tomorrow. If they need to sit next to her while she gets her fucking toes done, make sure to report back what color directly to me.” He raises an eyebrow in question.

  “You want to use someone from the Box for that?” I laugh at his skepticism.

  “We all started somewhere. If they can’t handle a simple surveillance job, what the fuck good are they?” He nods and jogs off to address the prospects that we lovingly call Tools, and the building where they stay, is the Box.

  They all start off working in the garage and are given generic road names until they’ve earned their permanent ones. We currently have five, but after this little job, I’ll cut two.

  “Hey, Prez,” Ares greets me when I walk in, and I glance around to see all but two members assembled just like I asked.

  Knight is following my order and will be back any minute, but where the fuck is Flip?

  “Spector, where’s my treasurer?” I adjust my eyepatch that hides and broadcasts the fact that I’m missing the orb.

  “It’s the sabbath, Prez. He’ll be here after sundown.” I curse in Spanish, making the room chuckle.

  “You hired him.” My cousin smirks at me, knowing I won’t call him out for his disrespect, frankly, cause it’s true.

  I chased Samuel Benowitz all over Manhattan and Atlantic City until he finally agreed to join the club, but on his terms. He’s got to be one of the strangest Orthodox Jews you’ll ever meet. He has no problems tormenting a man as long as it doesn’t interfere with his religion.

  He kept a prospect that was caught stealing hanging upside down over a tank of his piranhas for all seven days of Hanukkah a few years ago.

  “What time is sunset?” I ask on a sigh.

  “Thirty minutes,” Cyclone answers as he fusses with his watch.

  I grit my teeth but nod, because what else can I do but wait? I move through the room and take my seat at the head of the table, where my father’s ashtray, gavel, and signature brass knuckles, where he got his road name from, sit exactly where he left them. I had them welded into the table with a plaque in memory of my parents.

  I kiss my fingers and touch the smooth metal before knocking my knuckles on the table three times.

  “Any other business we can take care of before Flip arrives?” Slowly, the table fills with my brothers, with only three empty seats.

  Knight returns with two of the Tools, Sprocket and Flathead. He tossed them into the corner and pointed at them with a menacing look.

  “Don’t fucking move. Stay quiet and listen. You may learn something to keep your sorry asses alive. At the end, one of you is getting a job to do.” He walks away from the men who look like toddlers in time out, only with beards and tattoos.

  Knight sits to my right, covering my blind spot. He’s more than my Vice President, he’s my fucking best friend. I would be dead along with my parents if it weren’t for him. He still feels guilty that my eye couldn’t have been saved, but teases the shit out of me that he’s the reason my dick still works.

  He’s not wrong.

  If he hadn’t stopped the bleeding from my groin, I’d have lost my penis and leg. The eye doesn’t feel like such a sacrifice when you know that fact, until you look in a mirror and always see what that asshole meant for me, always to understand.

  That my parents had been set up.

  The daily reminder that the monster who did this will never see justice, the same way I will never see the world the same again. But that ends now.

  I found his secret, and soon I’ll have her under lock and key with the smug satisfaction that there’s not a fucking thing he can do to stop me.

  An eye for an eye isn’t possible, but his daughter will do.

  Bloody Roses

  14 DAYS OF LOVE AND LUST

  I never wanted to be a family man, in any sense of the word. However, you can’t pick the family you’re born into, and at a very young age, I realized that the only way to break the cycle of one Romano Don to another was not to have a son of my own.

  So when the time came, I stepped aside and handed la famiglia to my only living heir, my godson. To do so, I had to fake my death and have been living my life out in exile, where no one can possibly find me.

  But your past has a way of reaching you no matter how far you go, and I can only outrun fate for so long. When my enemies cut me a deal that leaves my godson in charge and me breathing, how can I possibly refuse?

  Marry the heiress to the most powerful Latin gang in the United States to avoid an all-out war…

  Eternally Bound

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sunlight invades my senses and rips me from my dream. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or not. I’ve been reliving the last time I held my wife in my arms every night for the past week. I’m old enough to know I can’t change the past, but even for a vampire, Hope’s spring seems to be eternal.

  I pry open my eyes and sneer at Gaius.

  “Rise and shine. I have the paper and your coffee.” He places the tray on the edge of my bed, and I snarl at it.

  It takes every ounce of self-control not to fling it across my bedroom. I may hate reliving our past lives in my dreams, but it’s the only time I get to see her.

  This has been the longest occurrence without her reappearing. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve missed my chance. Has fate finally said enough?

  “I know that face. You will see her again.” I rub my eyes, wondering why I bother to slumber at all.

  I don’t need it. In fact, I’ve gone decades without it, so I can avoid the pain it brings. It’s all I’m able to accomplish in my depression from missing her, though. I sigh and reach for the newspaper.

  “I see the murders have continued. How long was I out this time?” I don’t need sleep, but when I do, I have no control over the length unless I am awakened.

  I look at the date on the paper and frown as Gaius answers.

  “Just a few days. I only came to wake you because of the mumbling. You were calling out a name.” He raises an eyebrow at me in question.

  I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of the coffee.

  “Care to enlighten me?” His wicked grin appears, and I curse.

  “Not in the least. Something has changed. You don’t remember calling it out?” I glare at him.

  He turns away and opens my bedroom window, allowing the cooling evening air into the stuffy room. I take another sip of my coffee and frown.

  “What is that smell?” It reminds me of…

  I’m off the bed and across the room in a blink of an eye. I stick my head out the window and inhale deeply.

  “Amber and rosewood.” I turn to see a smile on my best friend’s face.

  “You knew?” He disappears into my closet and returns with a suit in hand.

  “The second I opened the door for the paper.” He shoves the clothes at me.

  “Well, don’t just stand there like Medusa’s lover. It’s been over two hundred years. Go get your girl.” I stand there looking at him in shock for another second, and then I blur into motion.

  I’m showered, dressed, and out the door before he can tease me anymore. It’s a typical rainy evening in London, and the setting sun is a blessing.

  I always hated the rumors surrounding my kind.

  Vampire.

  Frankly, the only things humans have ever gotten right are the fangs and the need for blood. Everything else is utter bullshit. Although our eyes are more sensitive to the sun, we can survive it. Garlic is fucking delicious, and holy water is a joke.

  We are faster, stronger, and immortal.

  My heart still beats, although slower. My cells regenerate faster, and I heal from any wound, even beheading, as long as someone puts it close enough to the rest of my body, that is. I was born this way, my vampiric cells not taking over until my mortal body died.

  We age at a fifth of the speed of humans. The only record, to my knowledge, of a vampire’s demise was during the Dark Ages. He was drawn and quartered, his body parts separated and buried in secret so he couldn’t return.

  Our senses are a hundred times better than humans’, and right now, I’m letting smell guide me.

  “There,” I whisper to myself as I turn down a cobblestone road in the old Victorian warehouse district of London.

  It’s become a tourist attraction recently.

  Does that mean she’s not English this time? I wonder what else will be different. I stop at a shady-looking door. I’ve long passed the photogenic areas and stumbled upon a warehouse that has seen better days. It looks on the verge of being condemned.

  I open the door slowly, knowing she’s somewhere behind it. Her smell outside is so strong I can almost taste her on my tongue. I step in and look around.

  Vampire Den.

  I hiss, and all the immortals inside look my way, making it easy to spot the humans. Five young women, all dancing in the middle of the crumbling building. They are each holding drinks and singing to music that is not there.

  They’re being glamoured, I deduce quickly, as I scan each of them. Then I see her.

  RED.

  It’s always red hair. A temptation as strong as her blood. Why is my wife sitting in this vampire den? More importantly, whose wrist was I about to break for touching her?

  “Lord Mathias?” I don’t spare the person speaking to me a glance.

  My eyes lock in on the hand that is holding my wife’s hip and slowly moving down. I blur behind her and whisper in her ear as I snatch the hand off her ass.

  “Your name?” She turns her head to my voice and gasps.

  “Why?” Her eyes are moss green and glassy from drinking.

  Her cheeks were beautifully flushed. Her parted lips begging for mine are the only thing keeping me sane.

  “I would like to apologize to you formally for my actions.” My words have her turning fully to address me.

  “Why?” This time, it is barely a whisper.

  When her dance partner protests, I snap his wrist.

  “For that. No man should be touching my wife.” She doesn’t even blink at the screaming man.

  “Why do I know you?” If not for my advanced hearing, I never would have heard the breath that escaped her lips.

  “Kiss me and find out.” I cup her cheek, and time stands still.

  Red’s Revenge

  CHAPTER ONE

  I stare at the third email from the property acquisition company that has been hounding me for months. According to the information they’ve sent me, Harris County wants to purchase the Ranch to put in a new street and exit for the brand-new bypass that is already ruining our small town.

  The words “Eminent Domain” glare at me on the bright screen, making me want to toss the fucking computer out my window. I pick up my phone and call my brother.

  “Colton Justice, Esquire,” he answers, and I groan at his professional tone.

  “Dickhead,” he chuckles at my greeting and excuses himself from whatever he is doing before he answers my call.

  “Just because I’m family doesn’t mean you can call me at work to insult me. Leave that for Sunday supper.” I lean back in my chair and groan when a few vertebrae pops.

  “You’re also my fucking attorney, Colt. I got another one of those emails. They’re starting to use big fancy terms my redneck ass should not know. I’m regretting helping you study for law school.” I heard the front door open, and my receptionist, Jean, greeted whoever came in.

  “Forward it to me. I’ll be over when I’m done with this lunch meeting.” He hangs up as Jean knocks on the door.

  “Come on in,” Jean says, holding a business card in her hand and a big smile.

  “Red, some business type is here asking to speak with you.” She hands me the card, and I see the same fucking logo from the email I just called Colt about.

  “Do they have an appointment?” I raise an eyebrow at Jean.

  The woman is old enough to be my mother and sharp as a tack. She winks at me as she leaves, shutting the door. I can hear her saying I’m not available and taking the info for an appointment tomorrow afternoon.

  It’ll buy me time to see what Colt thinks of this fucking email.

  I sigh as I look out the window. I took over for Pa when he retired two years ago, and I never dreamed how much paperwork it took to run this fucking place. I grew up watching him and the ranch hands care for the horses and cattle. Sure, he had an office, but as a kid, his presence was so big in our home that I just never noticed how much time he really spent there.

  He was home every night for dinner and at every sports game we had. I’m fucking amazed at how he did it. I asked him once, and he said it was simpler then.

  Computers ruined everything.

  I return my glare to mine and can’t help agreeing. Technology is great until it ain’t. Sighing, I picked up the card Jean gave me and stared at the name.

  Cam V. Greystone, Senior Vice President of Acquisitions.

  “Well, you sound like a right foul twat.” I toss the thing down and stand to get another cup of coffee.

 

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