Crisis’ story is FINALLY here!
NOW AVAILABLE
Amazon US: http://goo.gl/XaADktAmazon
Blurb
What started out as a deal
quickly became a friendship that conquered monsters.
I killed, but I escaped hell.
Emotionless. Disconnected. Cold. A mannequin. It’s what
I’d become in order to survive the years held in captivity. I was able to
endure the abuse and devastating loss as long as I remained detached.
But he wouldn't let me.
Crisis, the bass guitarist in my brother’s rock band, Tear
Asunder. He’s cocky, rude, a total man-whore. But the rock star has far more beneath
the surface of his inked skin, and he’s determined to make me laugh again.
He made me a "deal", but really, it was
blackmail.
His terms were simple. Until his playful honesty became
the building blocks to something unexpected. Something strong enough to pull me
from the eye of the storm.
Because even though I
escaped years of abuse, it didn’t mean I was free.
Excerpt #1
Haven
I woke up to my phone buzzing on the
nightstand. I rolled over and put the pillow over my head. My leg muscles ached
from my run last night, having pushed myself farther and longer than usual. The
wind had been strong, trying to unhinge me with each step. I refused to give
in. I’d win this fight. I’d kill the monsters. I’d watch them bleed until they
no longer lived inside me.
But they
did. My last few episodes proved that.
Buzz.
I sighed
and tossed the pillow aside.
“Pick up
your phone,” Crisis called through the door.
Oh, my God. “What
are you doing outside my door?”
“Pick up
your phone and find out.” I heard a thump on my door.
I reached
over and snagged my phone.
Move it, Ice. We’re taking out the big tractor.
I
scrolled.
Don’t ignore me, baby.
Third
text.
I made coffee.
Fourth.
Okay, maybe not yet, but I will.
Fifth.
I’ll just sit outside your door until you get your ass out
here.
I glanced
at the time on the screen. Nine. “It’s Sunday. I’m going back to sleep,” I
called, then tossed my phone aside and rolled over, tucking the sheet under my
chin.
The door
burst open and quickly shut again. Crisis leaned against it, his lips pushed
together with that familiar crease between his eyes. “Our brother is a fuckin’
Terminator. I swear he has radar in his head that goes off every time I talk to
you.”
My eyes
narrowed in on him; he was so full of crap. “Crisis. Get out.” My brother
wasn’t—
A light
knock sounded on the door. “Sis?”
Shit. I
sat up, making certain to keep the sheets covering me because I was wearing a
pink silk negligee with skimpy spaghetti straps and it barely covered my
breasts. Kat had bought it for me when I first came to live with them, along
with a drawer full of panties and bras. She said, ‘every girl deserved to have
beautiful negligee next to her skin.’ At first, I balked, internally of course,
wanting nothing to do with anything sexy. But after a few months feeling the
soft silky material on my hands as I pushed them aside in my drawer . . . I
tried one of them on.
I’d never
had anything but cheap clothes, and the negligee felt nice against my skin. It
made me feel . . . good about myself.
Crisis
crossed his arms and I couldn’t stop from glancing at his tatted biceps. Then
my gaze trailed down his hard muscled body to strong thighs clothed in worn
jeans hanging low on his hips.
God,
where was my head? It was too early in the morning and I was wavering under the
sweet clenching between my legs and the whirl in my belly. He was a rock star,
a hot rock star who was always on social media. Triple hard limit.
“Haven? I
just saw your door close.”
I cleared
my throat and gestured to Crisis to get away from the door before my brother
barged in, saw him and jumped to conclusions. He pushed away and came straight
for me, his eyes sparking a mischievous glow.
My
brother knocked again. “We’re going to brunch today at Georgie and Deck’s. I’d
really like you to come.”
Fine.
Crisis wanted to play . . . he froze halfway toward the bed when I raised my
brows and smiled. He shook his head back and forth and mouthed, “Don’t do it.”
“Yeah,
come in,” I yelled.
Crisis
dove for the bed, threw the duvet up in the air and landed flat on his stomach,
the cover settling over him just as Ream strode in. I lay frozen beneath the
covers, my heart racing, and a whoosh of blood charging through my veins. My
breath hitched as warm heated air brushed across my bare thigh and goose bumps
popped up along my skin.
Excerpt
#2
I walked
down the hall, pulled the elastic band on my boxers and glanced at my hard
throbbing cock. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, buddy.”
“Are you
really talking to your cock?”
I let go
of the elastic and it snapped hard on my abdomen. Haven wasn’t making coffee;
she was coming up the stairs with an armful of clothes. Fuck, she looked hot,
long blonde hair messy as if she’d tossed and turned in her sleep, and she had
sleepy eyes—adorable.
“Yeah.
He’s angry this morning.” I stood right in the middle of the top of the stairs
so if she wanted to get by, she’d need to brush up against me. It was childish,
but fuck, I was a guy.
Her brows
lifted. “Why is he angry?”
I smirked,
loving that she was down for a little play. “Placed an ‘out of order’ sign on
him.” Her brows drew together and her eyes flicked to my tented boxers.
“Doesn’t
look out of order.”
I laughed
and couldn’t help myself as I stroked the back of my hand down her cheek. It
took her by surprise and she swayed backwards. I grabbed her arm before she
toppled down the stairs and pulled her up onto the landing next to me.
A white
piece of clothing slipped from the pile she was holding and fell at her feet. I
smirked when I realized what it was, and took great pleasure in helping her out
since there was no way she could bend over and get it without everything
falling from her grasp.
I let her
go and crouched, picking up the white lace panties. I held them out and her
nose twitched like a rabbit sensing danger. “I like white. Prefer pink though,
for future notice. And lace I love.”
She was
trapped because if she snatched them from my hand, she’d drop the clothes and
if she didn’t then . . . I curled them up in my palm.
“They
aren’t mine,” she blurted.
God, she
was cute. “Darlin’ I know they are and I love that you’re denying it. Means you
care.”
Now that
raised a little heat in her cheeks and I liked it. Shit, I liked it a lot
because when I left a few months back, that would’ve never happened and now
that was twice. She was affected by me—good to know. “I don’t care.”
I shrugged
then turned to head back to my room to hide my newly acquired treasure. I had
no doubt she’d search for them the second I left the house. I looked back over
my shoulder and caught her eyes staring at my butt; could’ve been my back, but
unlikely. Really, it didn’t matter which. I was just impressed she was eyeing
me up.
“You can
look, but don’t touch,” I said.
Her mouth
dropped open then snapped shut. I disappeared around the corner, then heard her
stomping down the hall. Haven wasn’t a stomper. She was graceful, elegant and
controlled. Too controlled. And that part of her was coming down.
Haven’t read this series
yet?
Grab Books 0.5 - Two in the
Tear
Asunder Box Set
Haven’t read this series
yet?
Grab Books 0.5 - Two in the
Tear Asunder Box Set
Amazon US: http://goo.gl/7JNLzo
With You (Tear Asunder 0.5)
Torn From You (Tear Asunder #1)
Paperback: http://goo.gl/YFtvJS
Overwhelmed by You (Tear Asunder #2)
Shattered by You (Tear Asunder #3)
http://goo.gl/XaADkt
About the Author:
Nashoda Rose
Nashoda Rose is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling
author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes
contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave.
When she isn't writing, she can be found sitting in a field
reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves
interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.
GIVEAWAY
Two
Signed Paperbacks of Shattered by You
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