Filthy Marcellos: Lucian
Book
One in the Filthy Marcellos Trilogy
Genre:
Contemporary, Erotic Romance, Organized Crime, Suspense
Length:
98k, full length
Release
Date: February 2nd, 2015
Blurb:
She is exactly what he didn’t know he was looking for.
Jordyn Reese spends her time trying to stay under the radar of a man who wouldn’t think twice about killing her. Unwillingly affiliated with a dangerous MC gang, her life is dominated by the men surrounding her and her future rests solely in how useful she can be for them. The last thing she needs is some Mafioso gaining her more unwanted attention from the club.
He is everything she should stay away from but can’t.
Notoriously violent when it comes to getting what he wants, Lucian will stop at nothing to make the target on Jordyn’s back disappear. But sometimes the worst threats are the ones you can’t see until it’s too late. The truth behind Lucian’s history is about to take center stage in more ways than one, and it’ll either save him … or kill him.
This world leaves everyone a little filthy.
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Out
of the corners of his eyes, Lucian did see part of her bare shoulder and the
black curls hiding her face, though. It wasn’t so much the amount of flesh she
was showing as it was the peeks of what looked like a cherry blossom tattoo
crawling over her shoulder and dipping down her back where it disappeared from
his sight.
“Hello,
guys. I’m Jordyn. I’ll be serving you tonight, or something close to it.
What’ll it be?”
The
sultry tone of her voice was something Lucian and his body noticed the moment
she spoke. It was almost like a mixture of innocence and experience, if that
were possible. She didn’t sound entirely bored, but she didn’t sound like she
was in it to win it with her job, either.
Dante
looked to his father, his earlier comment about not consuming the drinks being
silently said again. Antony must have took note.
“A
bottle of Jack, unopened. Four—” Antony stopped up short, his lips tugging down
into a frown as he passed a glance towards Gio. The youngest brother certainly
didn’t need to be drinking tonight. “Make that three glasses. We’ll pour.”
Leaning
forward was the worst mistake Lucian made since waking up that day. He
certainly hadn’t expected to see her
again. At least not in a place like this. She was on his mind all damned week,
those eyes of hers, cream-like flesh, and a mouth that just at the sight alone,
make his own water.
What’d
she call herself? Jordyn, was it?
Merda.
Shit
was right—he was in so much of it.
Suddenly,
Lucian was not in the zone like he needed to be.
He
was so incredibly fucked.
Also,
Lucian realized he was right about his first assumption when he thought she had
ink under her dress that day at the confessional box. Cherry blossoms started
somewhere beneath the lace and leather bottoms she wore and trailed up over her
side, before crossing over her left breast which was also covered by nothing
but a lace and leather brassiere, and then curved over her shoulder.
There
was another tattoo, too, but in the darkness, Lucian couldn’t read the scripted
words.
Strangely,
the immediate rush of possessiveness that flooded his veins surprised him. She
was still so beautiful, like crazy. The more skin his gaze crawled over, the
tighter his pants became. Lucian caught himself wondering what those blossoms
would taste like under his tongue.
Yeah,
he was not where he needed to be. This unknown woman knocked him off kilter and
she probably didn’t even know it. What was wrong with him?
Unfortunately,
his father seemed to realize his son’s abrupt change in posture and mood.
“Lucian?”
At
the sound of his name, the girl’s—Jordyn,
he reminded himself—eyes flashed to meet his in the corner, those dark lashes
of hers blinking rapidly like she also didn’t believe what she was seeing.
Lucian swallowed the thickness building in his throat. Thankfully, Jordyn
didn’t act like they had ever met or seen one another before. She simply went
on doing her own business.
“Unopened
bottle of Jack and three glasses. Anything else?” she asked, avoiding Lucian’s
piercing gaze.
“Yes,”
Antony said, still watching Lucian closely. “The owner is Ron Daney, correct?”
Jordyn
stood a little stiffer, her shoulders squaring. “I beg your pardon?”
“The
owner is Ron Daney, Vice President of the Brooklyn chapter of The Sons of
Hell,” Lucian said gruffly, trying to swallow back the huskiness forming.
“We’re not ATF or the feds, let’s just be clear on that, sweetheart. Ron, he’s
in tonight, yes?”
Jordyn
nodded warily. “Always is.”
“Good,”
Antony replied with a grin. “Send him a drink, whatever he likes. Do be sure to
tell him it’s from a guest. Antony Marcello and his crew. Do not mistake my
name when you tell him. Be sure to point me out so he sees me. Understood?”
“Got
it.”
With that, the woman Lucian simply needed to
glance at to turn his skin ablaze and his heart stuttering, was walking away.
She
didn’t look back.
Filthy Marcellos:
La Cosa Nostra is not just a choice of regime and routine, it’s a culture. Born as mafia royalty, the Marcello brothers were raised ingrained with the beliefs and rules of what it meant to be a Mafioso prince. It is for life. Their status is considered a given right. They will always be these people. They will always be Marcellos.
Coming Soon
 |
| Giovanni, Book Two Goodreads TBR |
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| Dante, Book Three Goodreads TBR |
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.
Find her on Facebook, Twitter, her blog, Pinterest, Goodreads, or Amazon.
Find her on Facebook, Twitter, her blog, Pinterest, Goodreads, or Amazon.
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