Reviews

5 Stars: “Could not put it down. I read this in one sitting. I stayed up way too late because I did not want to put this down. I was on the edge of my seat throughout waiting to see what was going to happen next. The protagonist is in a lot of trouble now since he has opened a can of worms he should not have. Before he was only going up against one person, now he is going to have everyone after him with what he has done and it seems what he may be planning. I cannot wait for the next one to come out to see what will happen next.” Michelle Fortune (Goodreads)

5 Stars: “A lot of tense moments, emotions are running high and all over the place, action-packed from the beginning and of course a cliffhanger that makes you want to throw something LOL All in all, amazing part to the story. Definitely keeps you on your toes.” Brina 7

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Beth

The thug, Vito, grabs me by the arm, hauling me to my feet, then out of the room.
“No!”
He merely grins unpleasantly, towing me up the stairs.
“Let go of me, you bastard!”
“Only following orders,” he chuckles. On the top landing, he pushes at the nearest door, the nursery. Despite my best attempt, my words come out as a shriek. “Not in there!”
“Why not?”
“It’s… There’s no bed.”
“Don’t need no fucking bed,” he grunts. Nonetheless, he shoves me along to the next door. James’, Michael’s and Charlotte’s room. Inside, he grins widely. “Now that’s what I call a bed.” He has a point. The bed the three share is vast, for some fairly obvious reasons. And at times, it’s been shared by five, when my Master and I join the Triad’s fun.
But…
What else is in here?
What’s in here I could use as a weapon?
James’ ‘toy box’?
What does he keep in there?
Whips? Floggers?
Probably, but while James might be able to take the eye out of a flea with one, I couldn’t.
His grip on my arm is tight enough to bruise. “Move!” He swings me toward the bed. “Now strip…” And as I reach desperately after my skittering thoughts, hesitating… “… or I’ll do it for you.”
I might not be able to escape rape, but I’ll be damned if I help him. “Fuck you!”
It’s hard to tell if it’s a scowl or a grin but he reaches out a long arm, grabbing at the front of my blouse, tugging it open as buttons pop and fly. And I can’t help myself as my throat screams at him, fear and defiance as he grabs at my bra, simply yanking it apart, then, a plate-sized hand on my chest, shoves me at the bed.
I land on my back, arms sprawling, reaching, grabbing, snatching for something, anything…
And my fingers close on a bedside lamp. Plain white ceramic with a tall stem and a square base. Shrieking hysterically, I snatch the thing up, trying to batter at him with it.
Laughing he brushes it aside, then straightens up, fingers fumbling at his belt buckle. But as he does so, my fingers still wrapped around it, the cord tugs free. But free of his grip, I roll, up and off the bed, onto my feet, and swinging by the cord, I whiplash the lamp, aiming for his head.
He just grunts, snatching it from the air, tossing it aside, then backhanding me. Staggering, I fall against a wardrobe, the door bouncing open with the impact as I drop to the floor.
My fall is softened by the deep carpet, but scrambling backwards on all fours, as he once more looms over me, I’m backed up against the wardrobe. Scrabbling behind me and into the wardrobe, seeking for something, anything to use as a weapon. My nails scrape over the timber base. One snaps, then snags, drawing blood as I claw at whatever I touch. Grabbing randomly, I launch… something… at my attacker.
A soft-soled trainer. Snorting disdain, he bats it from the air, but it’s followed by a slipper, a flip-flop, another trainer… Each impacts and bounces and the bastard’s simply laughing as, once more, he stoops, fingers biting into my naked shoulders as he manhandles me upward…
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