Kings of New York Series is coming!
Book 1 - A Dirty Business
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When Jess Montell meets Trace West at a hockey game, she doesn’t know his name or occupation. What she does know is there’s an instant attraction that’s impossible to ignore—or forget. And forgetting is exactly what she wants to do when she learns he’s not just a successful Wall Street suit but the heir to one of New York’s biggest Mafia families.
The last thing Trace needs is a romantic anything with law enforcement, and parole officer Jess has trouble written all over her. Too bad he likes trouble. Especially when it’s a brunette bombshell with attitude and legs for days.
She’s an absolute spitfire, and he wants to stoke that flame.
Trace didn’t ask for the Mafia life. Jess doesn’t want any part of it. They both know it’s safer to stay away, but the temptation is too hard to resist—no matter how great the danger.
The last thing Trace needs is a romantic anything with law enforcement, and parole officer Jess has trouble written all over her. Too bad he likes trouble. Especially when it’s a brunette bombshell with attitude and legs for days.
She’s an absolute spitfire, and he wants to stoke that flame.
Trace didn’t ask for the Mafia life. Jess doesn’t want any part of it. They both know it’s safer to stay away, but the temptation is too hard to resist—no matter how great the danger.
“This is why I didn’t want you around me. This is why I should’ve forgotten you the second I found out you’re a cop.”
He began to move toward me. His chest touched my gun’s muzzle, and I swallowed a curse before making a decision. I wasn’t going to shoot him. He knew it. I knew it.
I holstered my gun, and then he was in my space, moving me back against the wall. He was breathing hard, staring down at me, and looking like he wanted to chew my head off, literally. But his tone came out soft, and all the more dangerous because of it. A whole new chill slithered down my spine. “For three years your uncle has been a pain in my family’s ass, refusing to work with us. Did you know that?”
I didn’t respond, too caught up in what else he was going to tell me, because I knew more was coming. I felt it, and I didn’t know if I wanted to know or not. I did.
His hand slid up, touching my chest and slowly moving to my throat, then around to the back of my neck, cupping me there. He held his own head back, watching me from his fullest height. “Then I met you. I became fucking captivated by you, and somehow that shit got back to my uncle, and guess who my uncle thought I should move in on now? Fuck him for seeing an opportunity to capitalize on, and fuck your uncle for being the abusive weasel shit that comes out of his own asshole. Goddamn fuck everyone because now we’re in a situation. So when I ask why you’re here, you’re going to tell me because you are now in this too.”
A low growl was building in my throat, and I brought up my hands to shove him away.
They didn’t, though. They rested on his chest, and at the
touch, he sucked in some breath, closing his eyes a moment. When they opened, raw pain flared briefly. “You’re not going to call the cops on me, and you know it. I’m sure there’s a valid reason you came in here, but the real reason you came and the real reason you came into that room is because you were hoping to do something to your uncle, probably what we’re doing.”
I looked away. “You’re torturing him.”
I felt the distance closing, and then his forehead touched the side of my head, softly, before he whispered, “I’m killing him slowly, for you. Because he’s hurt someone who shares your blood.”
He began to move toward me. His chest touched my gun’s muzzle, and I swallowed a curse before making a decision. I wasn’t going to shoot him. He knew it. I knew it.
I holstered my gun, and then he was in my space, moving me back against the wall. He was breathing hard, staring down at me, and looking like he wanted to chew my head off, literally. But his tone came out soft, and all the more dangerous because of it. A whole new chill slithered down my spine. “For three years your uncle has been a pain in my family’s ass, refusing to work with us. Did you know that?”
I didn’t respond, too caught up in what else he was going to tell me, because I knew more was coming. I felt it, and I didn’t know if I wanted to know or not. I did.
His hand slid up, touching my chest and slowly moving to my throat, then around to the back of my neck, cupping me there. He held his own head back, watching me from his fullest height. “Then I met you. I became fucking captivated by you, and somehow that shit got back to my uncle, and guess who my uncle thought I should move in on now? Fuck him for seeing an opportunity to capitalize on, and fuck your uncle for being the abusive weasel shit that comes out of his own asshole. Goddamn fuck everyone because now we’re in a situation. So when I ask why you’re here, you’re going to tell me because you are now in this too.”
A low growl was building in my throat, and I brought up my hands to shove him away.
They didn’t, though. They rested on his chest, and at the
touch, he sucked in some breath, closing his eyes a moment. When they opened, raw pain flared briefly. “You’re not going to call the cops on me, and you know it. I’m sure there’s a valid reason you came in here, but the real reason you came and the real reason you came into that room is because you were hoping to do something to your uncle, probably what we’re doing.”
I looked away. “You’re torturing him.”
I felt the distance closing, and then his forehead touched the side of my head, softly, before he whispered, “I’m killing him slowly, for you. Because he’s hurt someone who shares your blood.”
Book 2 - A Cruel Arrangement
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Book Depository https://bit.ly/3TSpmQ5
This was my place. My business. Easter Lanes.
Then a guy comes in, trying to rob me, daring to take it away from me.
My home. My life.
Hell no. I won’t let my livelihood be threatened.
No one knows what I’ve done to build this life for myself.
Except he might.
Ashton Walden, a man I remember from when we were kids.
Even back then I could tell how dangerous he would be one day.
He’s now the head of the Walden mafia family, and my father is so in debt to them that they practically own him.
My dad and I are estranged and I want nothing to do with him or his debt, but the day after the attempted robbery, I don’t wake up in the hospital.
I wake up in Ashton Walden’s home. And he drops a bomb on me.
If I want my livelihood back, I need to earn it back.
And thus begins our cruel arrangement.
Then a guy comes in, trying to rob me, daring to take it away from me.
My home. My life.
Hell no. I won’t let my livelihood be threatened.
No one knows what I’ve done to build this life for myself.
Except he might.
Ashton Walden, a man I remember from when we were kids.
Even back then I could tell how dangerous he would be one day.
He’s now the head of the Walden mafia family, and my father is so in debt to them that they practically own him.
My dad and I are estranged and I want nothing to do with him or his debt, but the day after the attempted robbery, I don’t wake up in the hospital.
I wake up in Ashton Walden’s home. And he drops a bomb on me.
If I want my livelihood back, I need to earn it back.
And thus begins our cruel arrangement.
