FILTHY MARCELLOS: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION
by Bethany-Kris Filthy Marcellos, #0.5-3.5 Publication Date: February 8, 2016 Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime. Erotic Romance, Boxed Set
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.
Family first. God second.
From bosses and sons, to husbands and lovers. Made men, fathers, and killers. Life is a chess board in Cosa Nostra and these men are the kings.
You can’t be a Marcello if you’re not filthy.
The Complete Collection features the short novel Antony, and the three full length novels Lucian, Giovanni, and Dante. It also includes the 20k prequel to the Legacy series, featuring the Filthy Marcellos next generation.
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four 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.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD
Title: My Darling Arrow
Author: Saffron A. Kent
Genre: New Adult Romance
Release Date: September 17, 2020
I shouldnât be writing this.
Itâs not as if Iâm ever going to send you this letter, and there are a million reasons why.
First of all, I was sent to this reform school as a punishment for a petty, totally inconsequential crime. Not to ogle the principalâs hot son around the campus.
Second of all, youâre a giant jerk. Youâre arrogant and moody and so cold. Sometimes I think I shouldnât even like you.
But strangely your coldness sets me on fire.
The way your athletic body moves on the soccer field, and the way your powerful thighs sprawl across that motorcycle of yours, make me go inappropriately breathless.
But thatâs not the worst part.
The worst part is that you, Arrow Carlisle, are not only the principalâs hot son.
You also happen to be the love of my sisterâs life.
And I really shouldnât be thinking about my sisterâs boyfriend, or rather fiancÃ© (I overheard a conversation about the ring that I shouldnât have).
Now if I can only stop writing you these meaningless letters that Iâll never send and youâll never readâ¦
NOTE: This book is a standalone and DOES NOT contain cheating.
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COMING SOON TO AUDIO!
Saffron A. Kent is a Top 100 Amazon Bestselling author of Contemporary and New Adult romance. More often than not, her love stories are edgy, forbidden and passionate. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post, New York Daily News and USA Todayâs Happy Ever After.
She lives in New York City with her nerdy and supportive husband, and a million and one books.
by Zachary Ryan
For a group of friends, one mistake changed the course of their lives forever.
In the aftermath of a tragic school shooting, the group must find their own form of justice and a way to begin healing from a wound that just won’t stop hurting.
For them, the lines were drawn.
Right and wrong became blurred.
Friends became enemies.
Told from the perspective of four friends, we learn how one student’s revenge reigned terror over a school and a community-- causing secrets to unfold and relationships to be tested.
A compelling and powerful story about a school shooting. A must read.
Zachary Ryan grew up in a black-and-white box in Maryland, before moving to Chicago to start a new life. There, he found that he was accepted for his misfit status—and learned that it’s perfectly normal to spend your twenties feeling lost and confused.
After a disastrous sexual encounter, Ryan stumbled on a group of true friends, or “soul cluster,” that he connected with. Through his writing, he hopes to help other broken souls out there find comfort amid the chaos.
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A Game of Fate
Emma knew things were going to go wrong.
Though safe behind a high wall, hidden from view by the hunter’s blind, and armed with her grandfather’s rifle, her gut told her that shit was about to hit the fan. Without a doubt, Nerit and the others thought they had a good plan. Technically, she could see where it would probably work, but something felt off.
After diverting the massive horde of zombies, the people of the Fort looked exhausted and tensions were high. It was the type of emotional and physical state that resulted in mistakes. It was not an ideal atmosphere in which to make hurried decisions about how to obliterate yet another threat.
Listening to the constant stream of updates over the walkie-talkie, Emma leaned against the rail inside the hunting blind and peered out the open window cut into the fabric. The road ahead appeared clear except for the traps that were covered in cloth painted to look like the road from a distance. The layout was clever, designed to herd the zombies into the razor wire traps by setting off strategically placed fire traps.
Over the walkie-talkie, a man’s voice said, “We have around twenty runners in pursuit. There are some slower ones scattered in the streets, but they’re not an issue. We’re about three blocks away from the traps.”
Emma rested her rifle butt on her hip while she listened. That many runners was a concern no matter how calm the man sounded.
“Runners are kinda smart,” she said, working through her concerns aloud.
In her periphery, she saw Katarina glance toward her. “Yeah. Sometimes.”
“In the early days of the z-poc, they were smart enough to open car doors. That’s when I learned to always lock them. They used tools too. One threw a brick through the window of a building I was hiding in. If these runners are new, they might not fall for the traps once the first one goes off.”
Katarina grunted. “Shit. You got a point.”
“I might be wrong.”
“Yeah, but if you’re right this might not be as easy as we thought. Let me call in.” Katarina tugged the walkie-talkie off her belt. “These last few weeks have got us burned out. We don’t need to be making stupid mistakes.”
Emma was uneasy expressing her concerns. Being known as the zombie killer of an entire town was not something she was comfortable with at all. People could get the wrong impression about her and assume that she was some kind of know-it-all. She hoped she wasn’t coming across as arrogant or condescending.
Again, Emma experienced a twinge of unease. Maybe it was because she wasn’t used to working with other people. Being responsible for only her life was vastly more comfortable than worrying about others. At the same time, it would be foolish to dismiss the longevity of the Fort in a dangerous new world. It was formidable, an impressive testament to the tenacity of the inhabitants and the effectiveness of the leadership.
The People We Meet Along The Way
“I just wish you didn’t hate me so much.” I concentrated on the coffee in my cup as I swirled the wooden stirrer round and round.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, focusing my attention back to him. “I hate what we did. I hate that I let it define who I was for so long, and I hate that I hurt someone I cared about so much because of it. But I don’t hate you—you were just one of the many cracks in my life.”
He creased his forehead. “I don’t understand.”
I gazed at him long and hard, finally fearless of the shame the man staring back at me conjured up inside of me. He held no control over me, and he never had. I stood up and pushed my chair in as he sat there waiting for an explanation. “And I wouldn’t have expected you to. Goodbye, Jonathan.”
Sinful Secrets: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set
Dance with Death
I’m happy to let her think that I am the only place she will ever be able to turn for comfort.
She should turn to her master to fulfill that need.
I have every intent to take advantage of her fragile state.
Boldly, she lifts her head and slowly meets my eyes. There’s fear there behind the sapphire blue—fear and desperation and longing.
“I want you, moy khozyain.”
I grip her waist with both hands and turn her, backing her up to the marble countertop. She swallows, her eyes locked on mine as I stare and press myself against her. I loom above her, my breath steady but heavy, exhaling my internal flames over her, reminding her that I was born from hellfire.
A reminder that she’s come to the devil asking to be burned.
Her features have softened from her normal cold as ice stare. Her eyelids seem heavier as they droop to hang a sultry frame over her blue irises. Her eyebrows are relaxed from the way they usually slant toward her nose, wrinkling her forehead sternly. Her lips are parted and rosy in color, and I feel her shallow breaths puffing against my throat.
“You want me…to do what?”
This question is her test.
Will she back down, afraid to speak her truth?
Will she prove herself to be a rebellious slave and demand rather than ask?
Or will she tell me what she thinks she needs and sweetly ask her master to oblige her?
Love is a Battlefield
Something is definitely up.
Brogan interrupts his mom, “Where are you thinking about setting up a glamping site?”
“We have those old cabins up near the fishing cabin. I thought that would be the ideal place,” she tells him.
He visibly jolts. “No one has stayed in those in years. At this point they’re probably more shack than cabin.”
“That’s why I want to do something with them now. I thought Addie could check them out and get a feel for what we’d need to do to make them worthy of the glamping title.”
She’s got to be kidding! Before I can express my shock, Brogan lets out a great big boisterous that’s-the-most-ridiculous- thing-I’ve-ever-heard-of laugh. He sounds borderline hysterical.
“What are you laughing at?” I demand.
‘I just can’t see you being interested in a project like this, that’s all.”
“I’ve decorated resorts that specialize in all kinds of different things.”
“Don’t be rude, Brogan,” Ruby admonishes her son. “Addison is an accomplished young woman known the world over for her innovative designs.”
“I’m sure,” he says. “But she’s known for fancy five-star designs, not something like this.”
“Are you saying I can’t do it?” More than anything this gets my dander up. I am first and foremost a professional. “How about a little wager?” I ask him.
“I’m game if you are. I bet you can’t spend a week up there without running home to New York.”
I never said anything about staying up there. But instead of pointing that out, I knowingly and ill-advisedly declare, “I could do that in my sleep. In fact,” —and here’s where I totally lose my mind— “I raise your week to a month. What do you think about that?”