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The Doctor will see you now…. Check out this Sexy Excerpt of NYT Bestselling Author, Rachel Van Dyken’s newest mafia romance: RIP

Rip Release Extravaganza

rip

synopsis (2)

Pretty things aren’t meant to be broken.
But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.
I’m her nightmare.
I’m her savior.
And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.
She doesn’t remember me.
She will.
It’s inevitable.
Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury–I can’t.
She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.
I bit.
I tasted.
I fell.
Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death, is your only future.

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excerpt (2)

“YOU’RE NOT WEARING BLACK,” I BLURTED once we were in the parking garage, my eyes scanning over the crisp white button up and the same black slacks he’d worn to our initial meeting.

“How very intuitive of you, Maya.” Nikolai mused placing his hand on my lower back.

“Ass.”

His lips twitched.

At least he had somewhat of a sense of humor.

RIP Teaser _2

“Get in.” He opened the door to a black Audi A8. I slid in to the leather seat and looked around. The car seemed heavier than normal sedans or sports cars. I’d always loved Audi’s but this one wasn’t like others I’d seen on the road.

Curiosity got the best of me, when Nikolai got in and turned the key I asked. “What kind of Audi is this?”

“A safe one,” he said with a simple shrug, his lips pressing together in a firm line. “Throw a grenade at it and we’d walk away without a scratch.”

“You uh, get grenades thrown at you often?”

“One can never be too careful.”

“Hmm.” I leaned back and crossed my arms as classical music floated through the car. “So, the location of our first appointment.”

“A simple office building—nothing special.”

“Right.” I started nervously cracking my knuckles.

“Don’t.” His teeth clenched as he placed a solid warm hand across mine. “Just… don’t, not now.”

“Um, okay.” His hand hadn’t left mine. “Sorry.”

“You should be,” he snapped then jerked away from me like the feel of my skin somehow offended him.

Right. So I was back at the crazy theory.

We drove the rest of the way in complete silence—except for the violin music in the background. It seemed melodramatic. Driving through downtown Seattle with a billionaire in a car that could withstand World War Three, only to get trained for my new job.

Where I had no rights as a human being.

Yeah I was a bad romance novel waiting to happen.

He stopped the car at Pier 44 and turned off the engine. “Shall we?”

Nikolai didn’t wait for me to answer, simply got out of the car. Dumbly, I followed. What other option did I have?

He was still dressed in his tight white button up and black pants. Why was it that I had to change and he didn’t? The salty wet air stung my nostrils as we walked down the pier and finally stopped in front of a red door.

I looked around while he pulled out a key and shoved it in the lock. What could a man like him possibly be doing on the pier? In the dead of night? And why did he need my help?

“Do not speak.” He hissed before grabbing my elbow and jerking me through the entrance. He kept his arm wrapped around me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous I’d cut and run, or because it was so freaking cold in that place it could have been a freezer.

I shivered.

Heart shape from drops of red liquid in syringe isolated on white background
Heart shape from drops of red liquid in syringe isolated on white background

“You’ll get used to it,” he whispered across my ear.

“But don’t I want to,” I muttered under my breath.

His teeth flashed in what I assumed was a smile—I didn’t want to think he was gnashing his teeth at me so early on in our working relationship. Maybe I was trying to stay positive.

I shivered again and crossed my arms, trying to keep my body heat from evaporating into whatever hellish nightmare I’d just walked into.

Nikolai walked toward one of the walls and flipped a switch.

The lights flickered on one by one, reminding me of those horror movies where the buzzing of the lights being on is almost as freaky as the lights being off.

Everywhere I looked was white.

White marble floors.

White couches.

And a white receptionist desk with a red J hanging down the front. If I wasn’t so freaked out, I’d probably think everything looked modern and cool, not exactly inviting but not terrifying either.

Magazines littered the coffee table in the middle of the room, and a large bay window overlooked the Sound.

“Clinical,” I muttered under my breath.

The sound of a phone ringing had me nearly colliding with the nearest couch and toppling over backward.

“Phone,” Nikolai said in an amused voice. “It’s just a phone Maya.”

I managed to croak out a weak, “yeah.” But was anything as it seemed with him? No, not at all, so excuse me for freaking out over the phone ringing.

“Yes.” He answered on the second ring, his gaze trained on the floor. He checked his watch then motioned for me to approach the receptionist desk. “No, no that should work out just fine, I have a new… employee.” His eyes found mine.

I wasn’t so sure I liked the way he said employee, like I was disposable.

Or edible.

He licked his lips, eying me up and down before glancing back at the floor again. “Give me twenty minutes, then the usual.”

He hung up the phone and swore.

“Problem in crazy land?” I asked sweetly.

“I don’t believe the contract you signed this afternoon said anything about sarcasm. Or speaking.”

“Maybe you should have put that in then before I signed on the dotted line… sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “Unfortunate….”

“What is?”

“That you don’t mean that term of respect the way it should be meant… I could get used to it.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Turn.”

“Excuse me?”

“Around.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and twisted my body toward a white door with two windows. “I have exactly eighteen and a half minutes to teach you the basics before we have our first patient.”

“I’m seeing real patients?”

Nikolai didn’t answer. I’d begun to notice that about him. If he didn’t want to answer he simply… refused to speak, as if he didn’t owe me anything.

He opened the door leading to the hallway and ushered me through, the lights flickered on all by themselves, lighting up rooms on either side of me. Each of them looked sterile enough that I could probably lick the floors and still be safer than eating while typing on my laptop.

“And behind door number one,” Nikolai whispered in my ear, causing a chill to run down both my arms.

He pushed the door open it made a suction noise and then closed behind us. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck then pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

I gulped and tried to stop the sudden panic that sliced through me, “Are we, examining someone?”

He paused, his hands hovering over the sink and table facing the corner. “It would be prudent for you to remember the terms of the contract, Maya.”

Right. No questions, or talking.

“Do I need gloves?”

“Is that still a question? Also, if you keep talking, I may remove your tongue, you’ve been given fair warning.”

Did he just say he was going to cut my tongue out? Holy shit, he really was crazy! Did the medical journals know this? Society? People of earth? How did he hide this side of him? I was full on panicking at that moment.

RIP Teaser #3a1

Instead of bossing me around like I figured he’d do, he clapped his hands twice, powder flying off his gloves, more violin music began to come through an unseen sound system.

To be completely honest it was creepy.

Not soothing. Kind of like the music they play in the elevator in hopes to make you forget that you could plummet to your death at any point.

I leaned against the wall and watched him pull out metal instruments. Two scalpels, which made me think surgery. It killed me not asking, and when he pulled out a respirator and grabbed an IV bag, my hands began to shake against my body.

What exactly where we doing? Performing surgery? And in what world was I even close to being adequately capable of doing anything like that? I was studying diseases, but not in the literal sense where I cut up bodies and peered inside—that was a different major, a different type of person.

Books. I liked books.

Hands on experience? No, thank you.

“You will only aid me for a few minutes at a time. When I ask you to leave, you will walk out the door. Shut it behind you and don’t look back. You don’t ask questions. When the phone rings again, answer it and let him know my projected finish time in order to bring in the new patient. You’ll know my projected finish time because I’ll text it to the phone I gave you earlier this afternoon.”

Blood roared in my ears. So much information yet none of it connected or made sense.

“Maya!” he snapped. “Pay attention.”

I swallowed and nodded my head. “Shut the door, don’t look back, don’t ask questions, answer phone, answer your text. Got it?”

His shoulders sagged a bit.

“What if I don’t get your text?”

“Now that…” He smirked. “… is a good question.”

“I’m full of them, just let me ask.”

“I’m sure you are.” His eyebrows drew up in amusement. “If I don’t text, you wait for me. If after two hours you receive nothing. You find the black box located underneath the receptionist desk and follow the instructions. It’s important that you do exactly what those instructions say.”

“Or else?”

“Not the right question.” A muscle flexed in his jaw as he looked away and clenched his fists. “Do you think you can handle all of this?”

“No.”

Nikolai tilted his head and took two steps toward me. Licking his full lips he leaned in and whispered so close to my mouth I could almost taste him. “Lie.”

Afraid to breathe, I answered with a stiff nod and stepped back.

“Now, answer the door.”

“But there’s no—”

A loud knock sounded somewhere in the building.

“End of the hall, open the door, lead our patient in. Again, no questions.”

rip teaser_3

With more confidence than I felt, since my legs were like rubber as I made my way out of the office, I slowly walked to the end of the hall and opened the door.

I don’t know what I was expecting.

The boogie monster?

ET?

A friggin’ zombie from Walking Dead?

But a girl about my age stood on the other side of the door. She was wearing the shortest skirt I’d ever seen in my entire life. It was black and wrapped so tightly around her thighs it looked painted on. Her heels were tall and red, matching her bright red lipstick and bright red nails.

Blond hair was piled high on her head.

She assessed me just like I was assessing her.

Her eyes narrowed.

A man about six foot seven towered behind her. He had dark sunglasses on and was wearing all black just like me. The unmarked Lexus behind them was still running.

“Um…” I found my voice. “Just this way.”

“How long?” The man asked with a thick Russian accent.

“I’m not sure, I’ll just have—”

He held up his hand and sneered, then rubbed his bald head with that same hand. “Never mind.”

I opened the door wider and let the girl through.

She smelled like bubble gum. And she looked like a stripper, walked like a stripper, if I didn’t know any better I’d think Nikolai had some sort of… agreement with his patients or they weren’t patients at all. A sickening feeling started churning in my gut as I led her to the room and opened the door.

“Hey, Doc.” She winked and sat on the table. “This can’t take long because I have like, a few clients I need to get to tonight, big money.”

“Ah, big money?” Nikolai repeated then nodded to me.

I shut the door and waited, my back leaning against the furthest wall just in case he did something that meant I needed to run away—as fast as possible.

Not that there would be anywhere I could disappear to where he or my mafia boss father wouldn’t find me.

Dead if I went.

Tortured if I stayed?

I shook the thought away and watched as he engaged the girl as if she was the cutest thing on the planet.

He smiled, freaking smiled at her, flirted with her, and touched her. I wasn’t jealous, just… irritated, whatever, I was tired and still freaked out.

“So, Natalia,” he purred. “How has business been going? Any complaints?”

“I never get complaints.” She giggled behind her hand then leaned forward, her breasts practically toppling out of her low cut sparkly white shirt. “You should know that by now…”

Gross.

“Of course I do,” he said in a smooth as sin voice. “Open up for me just a bit.”

She opened her mouth while he looked inside and frowned. “How long have the sores been back?”

Sores?

“A few days.” She shrugged. “But you know they always go away when you give me medicine.”

“Like all good doctors.” He flashed another grin. “Alright… Maya.”

My head jerked to attention. “Yes?”

“Across the hall is the storage closet. Can you please get me a small vial of JR 88?”

“Sure.” With a gulp, I quickly went across the hall to get the vial. The storage closet was more of a drug addict’s paradise. There were enough pills to get a person high for eons—on top of that he had vials of things I couldn’t even pronounce. I finally located the right one and hurried back into the room.

Just in time to see Nikolai tuck the scalpel into the lapel of his jacket and pull out a needle.

I handed over the vial and waited.

With precision, he dipped the needle into the bottle then pulled a small amount, maybe the size of a pea, into the syringe. “Now, I know you hate needles.”

“Ah but your poking always makes me feel better, doc.” She winked.

And I again fought the urge to puke all over his perfect floors.

“All the girls do.” He winked right back.

Was I the only one not winking? Not flirting?

He licked his lips, stabbing her arm with the needle and slowly injecting whatever the hell he’d told me to grab. He quickly pulled the needle out once the medicine was gone.

She slumped back, her legs and mouth falling open as if she’d just lost the desire to rein it in. Her eyes rolled up and back, and with a snort or maybe a laugh, she lay back.

Nikolai placed the vial onto the table, pulled out an IV and inserted it into her wrist, taping it in place.

I was still trying to figure out what he was doing when his head snapped up. “What are you still doing here?”

“I—”

“Leave.” He dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

With one final look at the drugged girl, I put my hand on the door knob and twisted.

He told me never to look back.

But I was too curious not to make that attempt.

And my curiosity was only made worse when I saw the reflection of the scalpel in his hand through the window of the door.

“Maya.” His tone was gruff. “Do your job.”

I didn’t look back but the music, the same violin music that had driven me insane, got louder, as if he needed the noise to block out whatever he was doing.

Not my business, not my problem.

I quickly made my way back into the receptionist area and sat down.

The J screen saver was on the computer. I clicked it on.

Internet!

No way

Almost too easy.

“I wouldn’t,” a chipper female voice said. “Then again, I always liked to push his buttons too.”

RIP Teaser _4

I glanced up from the screen and came face to face with the most gorgeous elderly lady I’d ever seen in my entire life.

“Can I, uh, help you?”

“No.” Her smile was warm. “But I think I can help you—you’re my new replacement.”

“Oh.”

“One of thirty he’s had over the last two years.” Her shoulders shook with amusement. “Man can’t keep a woman to save his life.” And then she burst out laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world. “And you’d think with those looks, that brain, that body.” She fanned herself and peeked down the hall. “Still at it, huh?”

“Um, first of the day. Who did you say you were?”

“A friend.” She smiled and held out her hand. “You can call me Jaclyn, or just Jac for short.”

“Jac.” I repeated shaking her soft hand. The woman had more diamonds decorating her fingers than what seemed possible. Each of them sparkled as if telling their own story of love and riches. “So, I’m the thirtieth intern huh?”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Intern.” She chuckled. “Has a nice ring to it. Has he texted you yet?”

“No, but—”

“He will, he always does. Only had to use the black box once.” She nodded, and her eyes fell. “But that was a long, long time ago.”

“Um—”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands together, making her entire outfit shake. Wait, was she wearing bells or something? I stood and looked over the counter. The woman couldn’t be any taller than five-foot-one. She had red cowboy boots with bells on the tassels and skinny jeans matched with a white sweater. What should have looked stupid looked classy and stylish, like she’d just walked out of Urban Outfitters. Huh. “Why don’t I show you the schedule?”

“Alright, but Nikolai didn’t say—”

“Nikolai?” Her lips pressed together. “That’s allowed then?”

“What is?”

“His first name.”

“Apparently.”

“You must be special.” She smiled brighter. “I’m the only one who calls him by that… then again I’m also the only one who’s ever seen the man behind the mask.”

“So there’s two of them?” I joked.

“Oh, yes.” She nodded seriously. “Never forget how important it is to separate the two. Here he’s a god.”

“As opposed to?”

“Anywhere else…” She placed her hand on mine and squeezed. “He’s just a man. Never forget that, sweetheart.”

With that, she released my hand and waved at her eyes as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

“Goodness, my emotions get me these days. Now, let’s look at that schedule, and I’ll try to sort out any questions you may have before that elusive text comes through.”

“And then what?”

“What dear?”

“After the text?”

“Oh, you bring in the next girl.”

“Are they…” I swallowed. “Prostitutes?”

“Labels really do nothing for me.” She shrugged again and pulled out a chair plopping right next to me. “If you’re really good, tomorrow morning I’ll bring you a latte, what’s your favorite?”

“Anything with caffeine.”

She paused, her eyes getting misty again. “I do hope you last, dear.”

“And the others? They quit?”

Her eyes fell to the keyboard as she pulled a hanky from her purse and blew her nose. “Now, the schedule…”

Rip on iBooks
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 Author Bio

600d8-rachelborder

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866(standard messaging rates apply)

You can connect with her on her website at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page
Rachel’s New Rockin Readers

 

Check out this HOT new stand alone mafia romance from Rachel Van Dyken: Special Release pricing for a LIMITED TIME

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Title: RIP
Author: Rachel Van Dyken
Release Day – October 20, 2015
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rip

synopsis (2)

Pretty things aren’t meant to be broken.

But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.

I’m her nightmare.

I’m her savior.

And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.

She doesn’t remember me.

She will.

It’s inevitable.

Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury–I can’t.

She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.

I bit.

I tasted.

I fell.

Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death, is your only future.

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Separator-fancy line

Separator-fancy line

excerpt (2) “So.” She plopped into the seat next to me and crossed her long legs. I fought hard to pull my eyes away. “Catch me up, what exactly are we doing in Chicago.”
I opened a folder and slid it across the table. “We are doing nothing. I, however, am making a speech at…a church.”
I didn’t miss her snort, or the way she tried to hide her amusement.
“Something funny?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “In church.”
“Where did this attitude come from?”
“You kissed me.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back into her seat, not missing a beat as she let her gaze wander across my body like a caress. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good, to be desired, wanted, and it was a welcome distraction from the pit in my stomach. I really, really didn’t want to go to Chicago.
RIP Teaser _2 “You kissed me back,” I retorted.
“Doesn’t matter, you still kissed me. The line between beast and his little toy has been crossed, therefore I kind of own you like you own me, just in a more…irritating way. I have your balls in a vise.”
“Let’s leave my balls out of the speech if you don’t mind,” I said ignoring her little ploy to get under my skin again.
“Hey.” Her grin spread smugly across her pretty face. “It may just inspire the crap out of them, you never know.”
This was a conversation that Andi would have loved, in fact, the more Maya talked the more I saw Andi in her, which just made it that much worse. Here Maya thought I was going to Chicago to slap hands with rich doctors and make speeches, when really, I was going because I made a promise, to a dying girl.
Just one more girl, I’d failed to save.
“Let’s leave all references to body parts out of my speech, hmm?”
“I’ll try.”
“I am the boss.”
“So you are.”
“I’ve created a monster. Had I known feeding you would gain this response I would have tied you up in the basement with a protein bar and some Gatorade.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s Netflix. Orange is the New Black combined with the nightmares…” She yawned and it was then that I noticed how tired she looked.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat wanting to press things further, what kind of nightmares had she been having?
“I haven’t been sleeping much. Then again I blame you for keeping me from technology for so long.”
“Which brings us back full circle. I should have never given you such privileges.” My voice came out in a bark.
“It’s a right, not a privilege,” she snapped.
“So this…” What the hell was it? A eulogy? Not really, that was Sergio, but he’d asked me to say a few words. Shit. I struggled with how to ask, I didn’t know the first thing about being at a funeral, I put people in the casket, I didn’t visit them after they took their last breath. My eyes stung with exhaustion. “I need you to help me write it.”
“Wait…” She visibly paled. “What did you say?”
“Write.” I nodded encouragingly, my anger surging, breaking through all of my carefully constructed walls. Anger had no place in my business, in my life, and anger toward her, did nothing but put her in danger. “You know, words on a paper, you put them down, I say them.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“Maya…” I tsked. “I am what I am.”
“Put that in your speech.”
“Maya.” I grit my teeth together to keep myself from snapping at her. “I need a speech, something…encouraging, inspirational, happy.”
Maya pulled out her laptop and opened it up. “Inspirational…I can do inspirational. When was the last time I was inspired…?” Her cheeks bloomed red.
“What was that?” I breathed, my eyes lowering to the expanse of cleavage, it was a welcome distraction from my morose and jumbled thoughts. “Didn’t catch what you just said.”
“I, uh, didn’t say anything.” She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her cheeks pinkening even further.
“Your mouth didn’t…your face did.”
“Let’s not talk about my mouth…”
“Why?” I leaned in. “Does it inspire you too much?”
“Ass!” she hissed.
“I think you’re on to something…” I chuckled, bracing my hands on the armrests. Six inches, and our mouths would touch. I wasn’t just toying with breaking the contract, I was ripping it up, burning it. Just as our mouths were about to touch, I paused, lingering where our breaths mingled, hers warm on my lips, mine ragged and needy. I was right about one thing; she would be a welcome distraction, one that wouldn’t allow me to feel sad, or bothered by the fact that I was flying to a friend’s funeral.
And that history, if I wasn’t careful could repeat itself.
She moved, dislodging her water bottle. It landed with a soft thump on the floor.
I reared back and stared at it.
What the hell was I doing?
And as luck would have it, the water droplets had cascaded against my left hand, my tattoo—the mark of the sickle, the mark that would tell anyone who knew anything about the darker side of life.
What I did.
Who I worked for.
What I was capable of.
What I would do—to protect not just my own identity but those closest to me.
My phone rang.
I reached down to silence it—ready to silence it, when I noted the number. Cringing, I answered it with a smooth hello.
“You know I have eyes everywhere.”
“Good afternoon to you, too.”
Maya pretended not to eavesdrop.
The last thing she needed to know was that I was talking to her father—correction, receiving another threat.
This one not so baseless as the rest.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, waiting for his response.
“She’s been touched.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sure about that?”
The line crackled.
“She flushes when you’re near.”
“Most women do.”
“Cocky son of a bitch.” He chuckled. “Remember the terms of our agreement, Nikolai, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. She means nothing to me. You are the one who has everything to lose. You’ve developed a god complex, but I know all your secrets. It would take nothing for me to destroy you. You signed in blood. And it will be your blood that is spilled if you go back on your promise.”
My nostrils flared, heat surged through my body as I watched Maya happily pull out a magazine and cross her legs. Damn it, he was right. What the hell was I doing?
My lack of self control would end up getting her killed.
I knew that just as much as he did.
I was stuck.
And he knew it. Part of me wondered if he was aware that I’d developed a conscience—then again, I’d stopped working directly with him long ago, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t still owned.
“We’ll be in touch.” The phone went dead.
Damn Russian mafia.
And damn me for being one of the best. I didn’t get the nickname The Doctor because I had a good bedside manner.
And I wondered, as I tried not to stare too hard at Maya while she read through her magazine, would she still be alive if I hadn’t have taken the job that changed everything?
Had I damn her, then?
Had I truly saved her?
I let out a low growl of frustration; clenching my phone in my hand, ready to break it in half. I wanted so desperately to protect her from Andi’s fate, but would it be better that she died?
My body tensed.
Would I be extending her mercy, by snuffing out her life?
Maya frowned down at the magazine, her eyebrows furrowed as the plane rose to altitude.
I didn’t shake, didn’t so much as tremble. I was a doctor, after all, and whenever I made a decision of life and death, I was calm. Humanity didn’t slip through. I didn’t have a come –to-Jesus moment, where I wondered if what I was doing would sentence me to the darkest depths of hell.
It was…clarity.
The only way I could explain it.
“Something else to drink?” I asked Maya while she popped her knuckles again. Shit, twice in a few minutes? Was there something about the plane? Or my conversation?
“Wine.” She said quickly. “If you have it.”
I nodded, already walking to the bar. I glanced to my left to make sure she wasn’t watching me, then reached into the cupboard and pulled out a syringe of sodium pentothal. It wouldn’t harm her. If anything, it would relax her more, make it so that I would be able to hold a conversation with her…without her remembering a damn thing, though the dosage needed to be precise. The last thing I needed was for her to end up unconscious.
“What time is it?” I asked while I poured the wine, keeping the small syringe in my right hand.
“Oh.” Maya yawned then glanced at her watch. “It’s nearing four in the afternoon, why?”
“Just thinking about our dinner plans,” I lied. Two and a half hours since she’d last eaten. I mentally went over her stats, weight one-forty, height five seven. She’d need a half dose at the most.
RIP Teaser _4 Clearing my throat, I turned, sliding the syringe into the top of my sleeve and bringing over the two glasses of wine; hers was more full.
“Wow, generous in all areas aren’t you, Nikolai?” Maya eyed the wine glass and took a long sip.
“Drink it all,” I instructed with a half smile. “Doctor’s orders.”
“All of it?” She laughed lifting the glass into the air. “This is at least two glasses.”
“At least half,” I said in a more gentle tone. “You seem stressed, and I know…I’m not the easiest to travel with.”
Maya blinked then took another sip of wine. “No, you think?”
“It’s a…” I coughed into my hand letting the syringe slip out to the tips of my fingers. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, setting her wine down on the arm rest.
“Nope.” I offered a encouraging smile. “A few more sips, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”
Maya rolled her eyes but drank deeply.
The alcohol would work beautifully with the sodium pentothal. Truth serums, didn’t necessarily work by themselves, they were used in conjunction with other tools and drugs, allowing the human mind to be open to suggestion.
But no human mind or body was the same, meaning, the outcome was always different.
If Maya had any sort of…secret she was keeping close, something she wanted to tell me, but couldn’t or refused to, it would most likely come out at some point in the next half hour.
If she were harboring memories, dark ones, ones that scared her, and I offered her a caring ear, she’d jump at it.
And I’d know.
If she was getting triggered and how.
It sounded sick.
But it was of the utmost importance that she be kept in the dark, especially since her father clearly was still keeping eyes on her.
I told myself that as she drank more wine.

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600d8-rachelborderAuthor Bio
RACHEL VAN DYKEN

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Visit her website at http://www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

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COMING SEPT 20th from NYTimes and USA Today Bestselling Author -Rachel Van Dyken: The Dark Ones

We are very excited to bring to you the first cover in a brand new series by Rachel Van Dyken, The Dark Ones.

This New Adult Paranormal will be released on September 20!



Red textured background with smoke and cracksTo touch a Dark One is death.
To talk to an immortal is suicide.
Yet, I’ve been marked by both.
A Vampire.
And the King of the immortals.
My life is no longer my own.
And now I know the truth, my life was never mine to begin with.
It was theirs.
It’s always been theirs.

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken
or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com


BOOK TRAILER REVEAL: Elude (Eagle Elite #6) by Rachel Van Dyken

 

 

about the book

eludeThe sixth book in the internationally bestselling Eagle Elite Series.

*Interconnected Stand Alone*

Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married–I offered to shoot her.

Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.

Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.

One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.

But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.

I’d only use my gun to protect her.

I’d give my life for hers.

I’d cry.

And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl—a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.

I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.

Or the beginning of something beautiful.

The beginning of her.

The end of us.

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Amazon • iBooks • Nook

 

 

Elude by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.

 

 

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking
coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken
or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com


NEW RELEASE with GIVEAWAY: Ember (The Eagle Elite Series) by Rachel Van Dyken

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Description

I am a Killer. A Rapist. A Monster.

I know only pain and survival.

That is until the Cappo’s sister walked into my life.

And changed everything.

She’s a light who makes my darkness darker, her smile makes my heart turn to ice, and I can’t escape the fear her seductive looks instill–knowing it’s only a matter of time before I fail–again, and take her for myself.

This is the story of my redemption.

But it’s not pretty…I died, and now I’m alive, but not living, breathing but not surviving. I am Phoenix De Lange, son to a murdered mob boss, estranged brother, horrible friend, monster in the making, newest leader to one of the most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra.

And I will have my vengeance.

Or die trying.

I am Phoenix De Lange.

Death is all I know.

Until she offers me a piece of life–I can’t resist taking.

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EXCERPT

Once we were on the road, Phoenix chose the correct music for our drive. I say correct because, according to him, one didn't start the day listening to hip-hop or anything remotely fun. No. Mr. Rogers had me listening to classical music.

Classical.

Mozart, to be exact.

Not that I wasn't a fan of the arts, but really? It just seemed so against what you would expect from him. He was the bad boy personified; like, if you put his name in the dictionary, right next to it would be "And mothers warned their daughters to stay away, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and that heart wants that body… bad."

He was all lean muscle and tight abs.

And I could have sworn he had a dimple, but I'd never actually seen it. Phoenix's dimple was like Bigfoot; I'd seen glimpses in pictures and via rumors, but I had never actually seen it for myself.

One day.

One day I'd catch it and take a mental picture or five. Maybe ten. Needless to say, I knew that if I had one of his smiles, it would be a magical thing.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard I had a brief moment of panic thinking he was actually going to rip the thing from the dash and have a breakdown. Sad part? I half-expected it. He wasn't acting normal… well, he was always moody, but this morning he seemed downright suicidal.

"So…" I tried to zone out the instruments assaulting my sanity. "You went to Eagle Elite, right?"

He was quiet for a minute then gave a swift nod.

"Wow, don't talk so fast. I almost didn't get all that."

And crickets. Again.

I cleared my throat. "You graduate?"

"Sort of."

"How do you sort of graduate?"

"Did you bring lunch money?" He asked in a tight voice.

I gaped. "Did you just ask me if I brought lunch money?"

He shrugged.

"You're driving me to school, forcing Mozart on my poor sensitive morning ears, and just asked me if I had money for milk."

"I'm concerned about you eating. Sue me."

"Pretty sure the Nicolasi boss can afford to spare me a few dollars for a sandwich and a can of pop."

"No pop."

"Who died and made you my grandpa? Seriously. I want to know so I can steal your gun and point it at them."

"Nobody touches my gun."

"Which one?" I smirked, hoping he'd find the humor in my sexual innuendo, but who was I kidding? It was Phoenix. He simply grunted, rolled his eyes, and kept driving.

In a moment of pure rebellion, I undid the first two buttons of my white, collared shirt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice calm, his eyes still on the road.

"Wow, you really are like a parent. You can see me even when you aren't looking."

"Button that shit to your chin before I pull this car over."

"Put on Jay-Z, and we'll talk."

More cursing.

I undid another button.

"Son of a bitch, you're annoying."

"Is this our first lovers' spat?"

"Were there drugs in your toast?" He finally glanced at me, his blue eyes chilling me to the bone. "Be serious. I don't want to get called into the dean's office because you're high."

"Do I look like I'm on drugs?"

"Is this a trick question?"

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 SERIES Buy Links

elite
Amazon / Barnes&Noble / iTunes

elect
Amazon / Barnes&Noble / iTunes

entice
AmazonBarnes&Noble / iTunes

elicit
AmazonBarnes&Noble / iTunes

bang bang
AmazonBarnes&Noble / iTunes

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AmazonBarnes&Noble / iTunes

 

 

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About Rachel Van Dyken

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at http://www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

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Naughty Moms’ Story Time: Saturday’s Naughty Books Update

NEW RELEASES BANNER

  • Enchant (An Elite Eagle Series Prequal) by Rachel Van Dyken
  • Chapter 8: The Complete Series by Ella Dominguez
  • Hell’s Ink by Nicole Reed

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Stand Alone Prequel to the Eagle Elite Series
Release Date: January 22, 2015
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2015/01/img_6715.jpgIn the mafia…only the strong survive.

Joyce loves Luca.
Luca loves Joyce.
Frank loves his family and will do anything to protect it, even if it means taking away his brothers reason for existing.
Falling, only takes one step, one movement of the chess piece, and in Joyce’s fall she took more than just one heart with her. Go back to the beginning where the drama of the Elect all starts.
Go back to the first part of the story.
Where true love tried to conquer all.
Where true love…failed.

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RachelAuthorheadshot

About Rachel Van Dyken
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!

You can follow her writing journey at http://www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | AmazonNewsletter


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Release Date: January 19, 2015
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Beautiful pink cherry blossoms over white background
Warning: This is neither a conventional romance nor a traditional love story. Contains detailed sexual encounters, including voyeurism, total power exchange and situations that may trigger past memories of abuse. For mature readers aged 18+

Contains bonus material including a deleted scene, the alternate ending, and epilogue.

Grace Street: Seeking solitude and reprieve from her past failed relationships, Elsa begins her life anew in Richmond, hoping to find the change that she so desperately needs. Things are looking up for her, a new job, new friends… a fresh start.

But Victor has different plans for her. From the moment he heard her voice and set his eyes on Elsa, she became next on his to-do list; his Chapter 8. A well-known and respected criminal profiler, his mind is as dark as the people he hunts down. It takes one to know one, after all. Under the guise of making his subjects stronger, he intends to break Elsa down using everything in his arsenal, including pleasure, pain, humiliation, and things unspeakable. Everyone is fair game in his book and he discriminates against no one when he chooses his test subjects.

In Victor’s world, there is no such thing as happily ever after and Chapter 8 proves to be an infuriating challenger when she flips the tables on his selfish and twisted game, a game they both may end up losing their hearts and minds over.

Return to Grace Street: Victor tried to stay away; he couldn’t. He tried to start a new chapter and only wasted his time. He did his best to keep his demons at bay, but it proved to be an impossible task. Now Mr. Black is back to take what’s his and face-off with the one player who beat him at his own game.

Having moved past the heartbreak and physical torture that Mr. Black put her through, Elsa’s life is back on track. With a new love in her life and her future secure, she’s horrified and angry when he reappears, threatening his wrath if she doesn’t play his twisted game again. But despite being haunted by his dark, untold secrets, she’s a different woman now. Stronger than before and far more resilient. And more importantly, determined to make her own rules.

This time around, both participants are on equal ground. They will play with such passion and ferocity, their very existence is threatened because in their eyes, there can be only one winner and there is no conceding when your mental and physical freedom is at stake.

LIMITED TIME PRICE OF $0.99
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Grace Street Tears Teaser

ella dominguez

 

About Ella Dominguez
I’m a full-time mom, wifey, healthcare worker, and wanna be switch. I was born and raised in a sexually repressed, strict Christian household in the bible belt of the USA. This upbringing and repression contributed to my wicked imagination and writing has been my only outlet for my sexual fantasies. Finally at the ripe and sexually primed age of 40, I mustered up enough courage to share my naughty thoughts and put pen to paper. I sincerely hope to find my niche in writing erotica in all forms, be it romance or paranormal.
I don’t consider myself an author. I consider myself an avid reader above all else, and someone who simply writes the stories that the characters in my head tell me to.

 


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Congrats & Happy Release to Nicole Reed!
Hell’s Ink is LIVE!
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hell's ink

In this Brotherhood you live or die by the three-piece patch. For Hold Dawson, Vice-President of the Hells Highwaymen Motorcycle Club, it’s not just black ink tattooed on his body, but the religion he worships, and the law that governs his life. Nothing else matters. Family by choice and not by blood. More sacred than a shared name. Bound by respect. Loyal to death.

Unity.  Respect.
Love.   Devotion.
Forever.

But there’s another side to this life. One the President, Hold’s own father, lives and regulates by.

Merciless. Wrathful.
Murderous.    Dishonest.
Lethal.

It’s blood in and blood out and only one man gets to be king.

BUY LINKS
AMAZON ★ BARNES & NOBLE

Excerpt: Meet Hold

He watched her slender artist’s hand caress her taut, tattooed abdomen, instantly jealous that it wasn’t his own blunt fingers that idly drifted across her silky flesh. Her eyes flickered with awareness to where he stood at the end of the bed watching her. It only made his balls draw up tight. His rock-hard erection jutted outward, thick and long. He couldn’t halt his hand from massaging it with slow, steady jerks. His teeth burrowed painfully into his bottom lip. – Hell’s Ink

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Additional Books in this Series

beautiful ink on sale now.
Beautiful Ink (Book One) by Nicole Reed
ON SALE NOW!!!!
ONLY $0.99
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Author Information
Nicole Reed is the New York Times Bestselling Author of Ruining You.  She is a true Southern girl, enjoying life with her husband and three children in the peachy state of Georgia.  As a child, she discovered another world between the pages of a book and that has lead to her dream job as a writer.  In 2012, she self-published her first book Ruining Me, and then followed it with Ruining You, Cake, and Wasted Heart.  Her books have also been listed on the overall Top 100 Amazon and Barnes & Noble Bestselling list.  She is represented by Ginger Clark with Curtis Brown, LTD.

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