The blood of their enemies coats the leather of their cuts and a trail of bodies lie in their wake, but the Forsaken Motorcycle Club isn't done yet. Carlo Mancuso still needs to pay for his sins. Nobody knows that more than Ian Buckley, the Treasurer for Forsaken.
Ian prefers his pleasure mixed with pain and he's only ever at peace when he's doling out justice. Convinced that he's too unstable and sadistic to take an old lady, he keeps his trysts, like all of his relationships, brief and anonymous. But with his club at war, and the stakes being so personal, Ian's feeling the events around him more deeply than he expects.
Mindy Mercer is the sweet daughter of Fort Bragg’s most respectable cop. At least that’s how the town sees her. Very few people know the Mindy who hides her tracks and battles her cravings by lying to everyone around her. She thinks she has control of her addiction until she suffers an attack that leaves her searching for a way out of her own personal hell.
Mindy has never been more desperately in need of a savior and Ian has never seen a more beautifully destroyed creature in his life. Their attraction is intense, but their damage is extreme. Some scars never heal, and some people never get better.
Love is never more painful than when it can kill you.“I didn’t even say anything.”
“Didn’t have to.” He stops at the deck, just feet from the front door. I have to back up a step to keep from literally stepping on his toes. “You get away with a lot with me because of shit you don’t even understand. I’ll tolerate whatever crap you want to throw my way as long as you remember your place with the club and with my brother.”
“I don’t understand.” I feel like I’ve been dropped into the conversation halfway through because I’m pretty much lost now.
“He likes you,”
is his blunt explanation. When my eyebrows pull together in confusion he shakes
his head and purses his lips like he’s thinking about what he wants to say.
“More than likes you. Don’t take it for granted and don’t fuck it up. He chose
you and I respect that, but make no mistake about it, babe. You do him dirty
and you’ll answer to me.” I narrow my eyes and he leans in closer. His rank
breath washes over my face.
“I won’t hesitate
to slit your fucking throat if you fuck my brother over.”
I tilt my chin
up, closer to his ear and lean in so we’re chest to chest. He’s taller than me
by several inches, but I don’t care. He’s going to hear what I have to say and
that’s all that matters.
somebody with death only works if they’re afraid of dying.” I say the words
slowly and with purpose, meaning every single one. If he wanted to scare me, he
should have threatened to take away something that matters to me—like Ian.
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.