Becoming an Assassin’s Prey

I have a brand new dark mafia piece out, but…with a twist. He’s an assassin as well as in line for a throne of very influential and dangerous men. She’s an FBI agent hell bent on taking him down. When they meet? Sparks fly. Will she cross the line or will the cat and mouse game end in incarceration? Hmmm… You’ll have to read to find out.

PREY

Darkness…

Foreboding to some. To him, the ominous shadows were comforting, allowing him complete anonymity in order to perform the jobs he’d been paid well to execute. Tonight was no exception and he was exhilarated, adrenaline flowing. He craved the chase, the prey_fullmoment when he locked onto his target. Every assignment was unusual. Different countries. Powerful individuals. Beautiful women. Incredible food and drink. His skills allowed for careful selection, the very reason he was still alive.

Even though there were strict requirements.

He moved through the darkness, finding the house with ease. The mark had evidently caught wind there was a contract on his life, leaving his usual environment in utter disarray. And somehow, the man thought he’d remain safe in the countryside, a little house in the woods that no one was supposed to know about. Snickering, he eased the gun from his jacket, adding the silencer as he headed toward the rear, all the while scanning the perimeter. Surprises he didn’t need. At least the fucker would be alone, an easy target.

The entire back of the house was full of windows, the massive set of sliding doors peering out onto a lush garden. There were no other houses in close proximity, another perk of this particular job. He inched closer, able to see the mark sitting in an overstuffed chair directly in front of a roaring fire.

Like taking candy from a baby.

He moved into the most optimal position, holding the weapon in both hands. A split second before he pulled the trigger, he jerked back, cursing under his breath. The man was supposed to be alone. Fuck!He shoved the gun back into his pocket and headed straight through the woods toward the awaiting vehicle. Yanking out his phone, he studied the reception. Just enough. The call was answered within two rings.

“Yes?”

“Mission aborted,” he half whispered as he opened the driver’s door.

There was a long pause.

“Why?”

“I have my reasons. To be completed at a later time.” Ending the call, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He was a cold-blooded killer but even he had his scruples, no matter what the blessed consortium required of him.

He would never complete a contract in front of a child.

* * *

Monte Carlo

Eight days later

“Do you know what I want?” she purred as she slipped first one then her other arm around Wrath’s neck, her red lips glistening even in the shadowed light.

Ricardo ‘Wrath’ Constantino had been with many women over the years, devouring several varieties, but French girls were usually far more discerning about their tastes in men. Cherry certainly didn’t seem to understand that if she accepted several drinks then invited a killer to her condo she could face the ultimate demise. Granted, she wasn’t his target, nor would she know of his profession. However, the irony was delightful. “Now, what could that possibly be?” he asked as he brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

“I love your commanding manner. So sexy.” Cherry clung to him, her eyes holding the haze of intoxication. “I hunger for a taste of that hard body of yours.” She kissed his lips, darting out her tongue and dragging the tip across the seam of his mouth.

He allowed her to toy with him, teasing as she slid one hand down his chest. Sadly, he’d grown bored of the evening. Even winning at Blackjack didn’t have any effect on his sour mood. What did entice him was the gorgeous redhead sitting at another Blackjack table, the scarlet dress the perfect complement to her stunning long legs and hourglass figure. He was hungry, having played the perfect gentleman during his time spent in the amazing city.

What he could easily see was that she was an expert at a slight of hand, kiting the system. He was amused as well as aroused by her brazen attempt at winning. If she was caught, the punishment would be extremely harsh.

“Cherry, you are a lovely woman, but I believe I see someone I know. An unexpected surprise. I’m certain you can understand.”

Pouting her ruby-stained lips, she lifted a single eyebrow, her index finger sliding back and forth across his Adam’s apple. When she knew he was serious, she huffed. “Merde. Fine. Have it your way, but you’re missing out.”

He waited until she walked away, flipping him her middle finger in frustration, her next set of words spoken with a nasty tone. “Je m’en fous!

She’d consumed one too many glasses of champagne. She didn’t give a fuck, eh? Well, then neither would he.

Wrath studied the lovely redhead at the other table as she worked, taking her time and winning only small bets. Even the card dealer, a trained expert, seemed to have no idea about her exceptional skills. He took a sip of his bourbon, debating exactly what to do. His cock ached, throbbing against his tuxedo pants, a clear sign that he needed to meet her. Few women had any effect on him, fewer still holding his interest for even this long.

After she won yet another hand, he polished off his drink and moved in the direction of the table, taking the last spot, which happened to be on her left. He acknowledged the players, waiting to greet her last. “Madame.” His French accent was one that the majority of women found endearing. He had a feeling this woman couldn’t care less simply by her caustic body language.

“Miss.” She gave him a once-over as the dealer positioned the new cards, yawning after a few seconds.

His amusement turned into raging hunger, his balls tightening.

“Fascinating,” he whispered so only she could hear.

“Are you flirting with me?” she asked in a haughty tone.

He chuckled, darting his eyes in her direction. She was American and appeared to be all alone, although looks could be deceiving. “I rarely flirt because I usually get what I want without question.”

“Ah, you’rethatkind of man.”

“And which kind is that?”

“An asshole.” Purring, she took a sip of her wine, shifting her stool and allowing him a more captivating look at her legs.

Wrath gave her a slight nod of respect. The woman was tough as nails. He could only imagine her behavior in bed.

As the cards were turned, he watched her intently, studying the way she was able to cheat. There was something odd about her mannerisms, so polished and perfect. He was more than impressed, her abilities surpassing some of the best he’d known. She was truly magnificent.

Drinks were brought, the players dropping out one by one after mere minutes.

After she won yet another hand, Wrath leaned over, whispering in her ear, “You’re very good at what you do. I’m impressed and that never happens.”

She only slightly tipped her head. He could easily tell that she was aggravated at the interruption. The bet she had on the table was the largest of the night, one that would easily net her a cool fifty G’s. “And what might that be?”

The sound of her voice was alluring, seductive in the soft inflections. “You’re a cheat. How do I know this? Because I was hired and trained to spot even those with utter finesse.” He allowed the words to sink in, his cock throbbing as her porcelain face flushed, turning a lovely shade of pink.

“How dare you! I’m no cheat,” she whispered, reaching for her wine in her usual confident manner.

“And you and I both know you’re lying.” Wrath gathered his meager winnings and moved away from the table, tossing a hundred dollar chip toward the dealer. “Thank you, sir. This table is far too hot for me.”

“Thank you,” the dealer said with a smile then glanced at the remaining players, the tip understood.

Wrath slid his hands into his pockets, taking long strides out the main door then leaning against the wall. There would be no more winning for the lovely lady tonight. If his calculations were correct, she would be coming through the door in…

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The redhead was on cue, bolting through the door. Instead of any concept of fear on her face, she was furious, her eyes scanning the corridor. Seconds later, she jerked up her long dress, cursing what the Americans called a blue streak as she strode in the opposite direction. “Goddamn motherfucking asshole.”

Wrath moved out of the shadows, following closely behind. She wasn’t a true card shark, or if she was, she was certainly taking calculated risks. Perhaps he needed to get to the bottom of her true identity. The last thing he needed was trouble prior to fulfilling his contract.

Especially since the mark was MIA.

His long legs were more than a match for a woman in shockingly high heels, his hand wrapping around her arm and jerking her to the side.

“You. What do you want?” she snapped, struggling to get out of his hold. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Shh… Such language. Now, we can handle this situation one of two ways, which will be entirely your decision.” Wrath kept his voice low, certainly not loud enough to register to anyone in close proximity. He crowded her space, drinking in her exotic perfume. Visions of shackling her naked to his bed popped into his nefarious mind.

Hissing, she yanked again, almost getting out of his grasp. “I’ll ask you one. Last. Time. Who the hell do you think you are?”

She certainly carried an air of arrogance, something he did appreciate, especially in a woman. Time to call her bluff. “Someone who knows a thief when he sees one. As I was saying, you can come with me now or I’ll simply call in the local policia.”

The single tic in the corner of her mouth was the only giveaway that she was bothered in any manner. Otherwise, she played the situation as she had the cards.

Calculated.

Policia?” she mused, her eyes flashing.

He’d made a single mistake, one that could cost him. Tonight, he was a Frenchman, the terminology entirely different than his native country. “The Monte Carlo police division is well known throughout the world as being brutal.” The lie sounded plausible. The second shimmer of her eyes indicated she wasn’t entirely certain whether he was telling the truth.

“You have the situation wrong. I need to see some identification, Mr. Know it All,” she barked, throwing out her arm, beckoning with her fingers.

Chuckling, he was becoming more and more fascinated with the woman.

Well, what do you think? Imagine the chemistry!

I hope you purchase and remember, FREE to read if  you have a KU subscription!

PURCHASE PREY

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Imagine an Alien Lottery for Humans…

Can you imagine living on Earth during a time where aliens have overtaken the planet? One of their perks is having a lottery every few months. Their winning prize? Fertile human females. Now, imagine if there was a human female who refused to comply? I have a HOT new dark reverse harem science fiction piece just out. See what you think!

HARVEST

“You’ll be punished.”

How many times had I heard that very statement before? How many sleepless nights hadharvest_full I envisioned the monsters taking me, using me? Filling every hole with one of their thick, hard cocks?

Shivering, I blinked away the ugly visions, making a promise to myself that I would escape. Somehow. Someway.

Then there was my family to worry about. I cringed, my skin tingling from anticipation. The Centurions were monsters. Brutal savages. And there was nothing any of the aliens could do to change my mind.

The horrible premonitions were coming true. My mind was rattled, petrified that everything I’d dreamt during the last two weeks had actually occurred. My skin tingled, my pussy quivering much as it had since the experience in the woods. Maybe I was losing my mind, the fear overtaking any concept of reality.

But I couldn’t get the monster out of my mind.

Voltar…

His entire body reeked of testosterone, a man to be feared, his power evident in every move he made. Broad shoulders, a carved chest, rippled abs that were every girl’s fantasy.

But he was an alien. A damn beast that I was supposed to fear.

Then why did I hunger for him every night?

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Every time the primitive drums were hit with the cloth-covered mallets I jumped. There was no fear given what they were doing was on the massive screen, just simple disgust. Others in my group crowded closer, as if the monsters holding court were magical gods, able to free them from their daily confines. I wanted to laugh and make fun of them for their obviously misguided cravings, but what else did they have to live for?

Being locked away, never having the freedom to make a single choice—other than to submit or die.

I am woman, hear me roar.

I’d learned the expression, one from so long ago, from my mother. But even she’d lost her will to fight. A nauseating chill swept down my spine, trickling along the backs of my legs even though the temperature was close to eighty degrees. Everything about the Centurions and their ruthless ways repulsed me yet sent the fear of the unknown skittering into my bloodstream. I’d fought so hard to keep my self-worth, trying to enjoy the life we’d been forced into, but days like these were debilitating, shaking me to my core. I thought about the words I often said to myself in an effort to curtail my rage.

I am Felicity Michaels and no man or beast will ever strip away my identity or my dignity. Ever.

Only the aliens were capable of doing much more, at least if I was luckyenough to win the so-called lottery.

We all stood staring at the videogram, a retelling of one of the recent celebrations, the show meant to entice us for the upcoming Feast.

Feast. Feast. Feast.

The chanting would forever burn in the back of my mind.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” one of the girls asked no one in particular, her dilated eyes wide open and her hand raised as if able to stroke the copper-colored hair of the girl leading the others into a tight formation. Every single one of the women on display in the video seemed catatonic, as if they’d been drugged or worse, brainwashed into thinking they were facing a glorious life. They were all dressed in magnificent clothing, silks and satin in vibrant colors. I knew in my heart their attire was all for the glorious show.

They were simply being turned into well trained pets for the Centurions, a fate worse than death in my mind. I couldn’t fathom why no one else in our group seemed to notice the chosen’s artificial smiles and glassy eyes. Maybe they simply didn’t care. I glanced around me at the eager faces, pursed lips, and body language indicating they were turned on by the few aliens being shown in the videograms.

“No, they’re not,” I answered, more under my breath than anything. I wasn’t well liked, as if I gave a shit, but I had to be careful not to cause a commotion or the Watchers would flag my number, removing me from the upcoming celebration. They were the low-level Centurion soldiers, every one of them dangerous. I’d seen with my own eyes what the nasty creatures did to misbehaving girls. Any of them causing commotion were humiliated in front of every man and woman, stripped of their clothing and shackled, spanked like naughty little girls until their ass cheeks were flaming red.

 

“Come here, Earthling. You deserve to be punished.” His deep voice floated across the courtyard, the sound penetrating into the darkest parts of me. He patted his lap, his lip curled in an exaggerated fashion, the sneer on his face indicating he approved of my naked body.

I heard the chants all around me, the gregarious calls from those hungering to see me punished. A light breeze wafted across my skin, forwarding the horrific stench of the monster in my direction, yet my pussy clenched in anticipation. I did as I was told, my feet dragging as I inched closer, trying not to breathe, willing my mind to obey. If not, the consequences would be even worse.

He reached out, his fingers dancing along the skin of my forearm, tickling my synapses until my nipples hardened. I had no idea why I felt such blatant desire for a being I considered so wretched, but my body betrayed me, my breasts aching with deep longing. “Do you understand why you’re being whipped, little girl?”

I wanted to shout out that I was a woman and not a little girl, but I merely nodded. The thick leather strap lay by his side, a favored implement and one that could inflict significant pain. Why was my mouth watering and goosebumps popping along my arms and legs?

“Excellent. We will mold you into a perfect mate yet.” Yanking me over his massive lap, he pressed his hand on the small of my back. “You are to be given thirty lashes.”

As the strap was driven down against my buttocks, I squirmed and moaned, pain coursing throughout my body. And I wanted more…

The vision was far too real, leaving me shivering. I’d never wanted a controlling man, one who was used to getting what he wanted. Never. I wanted a hero, a gorgeous blond human fighting for my love, gentle and understanding. Unfortunately, he would also be fighting for our lives. No human male was allowed to mate with females any longer, at least not those under the protection of the Centurions. Human males were used as workers, true slaves tending to fields and what livestock remained living on Earth. Every young woman was considered property of the Centurions.

Forever.

What do you think? I think the aliens just might have their hands full!

Love and kisses…

Piper

PURCHASE LINK

My Special Guest – Jessica Lynne

I always love having guests on my blog. Today is all about a wonderful author with her debut release. She’s been so excited and I am happy to share her journey into becoming a published author with you. Welcome Jessica Lynne. Let’s take a taste of…

CORRECTING CANDI

SYNOPSIS

Candiis a twenty-five-year-old young woman living off her daddy’s money in New York. Having everything handed to her certainly hasn’t helped her in the maturity department and when her father threatens to cut her off, she has no choice but to find a job. When she meets with a job recruiter, Ralph Hamilton, seeking employment, he is baffled by theCorrecting Candi (cover) constant setbacks she’s had with each previous employer. After getting to know her, Ralph is on to her. She may think life is being unkind, but he has other ideas…

Ralph Hamilton is the owner of R. Hamilton & Co. Life has thrown him some curve balls, but when he meets Candice, she proves to be just the woman he needs to get his life back. Little does Candi know that his influence in her life will go far beyond the office…

EXCERPTS

ONE…

“I understand that, Mista Hamilton but you still haven’t told me what you are proposing…” He sat back and nodded his agreement. “What I am proposing, Candice is for you to allow me to reform you.” His eyes met hers, silently, with an authoritative presence that was all their own.

She wanted to burst out laughing again but when she looked into his eyes, she could see he wasn’t bluffing.  “And how do you intend to do that?” she questioned, eyes wide with disbelief.

“First, I would like to make it very clear that our relationship would be strictly platonic. I am not out to hit on you or try to take advantage of you. I will view you as an employer views their employee. You likewise will refer to me as Sir. You would reside in my home and have rules which you would be expected to follow and routines which you would be expected to keep. Adherence to your rules and responsibilities would earn you rewards and privileges and rule breaking would earn you punishments.”

“Um,” she croaked, her mouth dry from falling open. “What do you mean by punishments?”

“I mean that you will be punished for failure to adhere to my authority in any way that I see fit. The methods I use could be as simple as a reprimand or they could be as complex and humbling as a thorough bare bottom spanking, given over my knee. Do you catch my drift?”

Blushing – she could actually feel herself blushing! She couldn’t remember the last time she had done so. No one had that effect on her, ever. And while she sat there trying to contain her embarrassment, and arousal, he sat across from her cool as a cucumber, not so much as breaking a sweat.

TWO…

“I don’t want you to let me…” Candi interjected, her eyes pleading in his direction.

Fear was etched across her face, a look he’d never seen her wear before. He’d seen her nervous before, yes. She was nervous when he gave her a spanking, but this was not that. Every feature of her face was drawn out and taut as if her life itself depended on his staying.

“Please don’t go, Ralph.” She reached out for him afraid this would be the last time, afraid he’d make her leave and not return. “I’ll take the spanking, please. I want to do better than this. Teach me, Ralph, teach me to do right.”

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AUTHOR BIO

I have a strong belief that when something of value is broken- a person, a keepsake, or a relationship- you don’t throw it away, you fix it! Whether the thing in need of repair is a character trait, an attitude, an heirloom, or a marriage- you do whatever is necessary to repair it if possible. (I have a whole shelf full of hot-glued Willow Tree figurines to prove it!)

My focus is relationships. My passion is love. Much of my writing embraces themes such as renewed relationships, trust and forgiveness, repentance and correction, and character refining. I was given the advice once, “Don’t be afraid to be bold,” and that is how I try to approach my writing.

I began writing at a very early age. I enjoyed putting stories together. In fact, I once wrote on cardboard after I had run out of paper. As a teenager, I wrote short stories, poetry, and began to dabble in novella writing. As a mother of many little’s, my writing has been put away for a time and I am just now beginning to dust it off and put pen to paper again.

My stories are about relationships and commitment. They encompass themes such as strong men who lead their women, and headstrong women who learn to trust their man. Many times, this compromise takes place over a red bottom!

I hope that you will join me on my journey into author-hood and that you enjoy my books! Thank you for your support!

Thank you so much for being here, Jessica! What a steamy story!

Kisses and spanks…

Piper