I knew she was brilliant, but not so…my erection jerks. The beast inside is roaring to feast.
I am a sick fuck, I know it. I’d also thought she wasn’t the type I usually played with, my taste in games a bit unconventional. The women I typically gravitated toward are more…disciplined.
Gemma is strong. The fire inside her licks at me, making me burn. I like it.
A lot.
She is also aristocratically beautiful, black hair twisted up in a reserved French twist, white creamy skin, full pink pouty lips, almond shaped hazel eyes, lush full hips, and perfect breasts that would fit in each of my palms. Her suit is impeccable, although I’m sure she’d chosen an understated one that is suitable for the position she is applying for, the one that’s beneath her. I got some sick satisfaction in that as well. I wanted her groveling, warped son-of-a-bitch that I am. I want her in many positions, in many ways.
She is all woman. A woman, I’m sure, that has yet to be unleashed. Too bad I want to break her, make her scream, beg, cry, and do things to her she never imagined. And I want her to want them, love them, need them so much she can’t live without them.
My cock is throbbing. The details are already forming in my mind on how this would play.
I grin.
“Welcome to Black Inc., Ms. Trudeau,” I murmur staring at her through the glass. “Let the games begin.”
You can get BLACK INK right here.
A Peek Inside A Work In Progress
The call came around three o’clock in the morning. Isn’t that when all things tragic arrive? Desperation and devastation, and every single monster comes to life. We aren’t immune, none of us are. Sometimes we create them, other times they are us. The strangest thing is I wasn’t surprised. Maybe I’d been waiting for him to call all this time, maybe I knew he always would.
Maybe he knew it too.
He knew he’d call me. Eventually.
I heard it in his voice.
My heart beat an erratic rhythm inside my chest, a normal reaction to an unexpected ringing phone in the middle of the night, but the moment his voice had come through, I was no longer the woman I am, but the girl from all those years ago. Three words, and everything was gone, the time, the distance, the pain, nothing. It was just him, and me, and those words.
“I need you.”
I reacted the way I always knew I’d react; the way he knew I’d react. The same way I always had.
“Where are you?” I didn’t hesitate.
His reply came after a long intake of breath. “Jail.”
I registered a wave of shock somewhere in my subconscious, but it was secondary to my natural instinct to go to him. First, as the woman who had loved him more than anything else. Then, as an attorney.
During the long drive, as the sun broke over the horizon, filling the sky with its golden promise of no worries, I flicked through the file in my mind of everything I’d read on him over the years. Successful, (heartless businessman). Wealthy, (stinking rich). Shrewd, (cold). Unattached, (womanizer). Not the stereotype to spend a night in jail. He’d changed from the person I’d known, but in some aspects, he hadn’t. In each article I’d read, in every picture he was featured, and he was featured because the press apparently loved him, he was breathtakingly beautiful. When we knew each other, he was a man/boy. Now, he was what every man wanted to be, and every woman wanted to belong to. He is larger than life. Even from my detached position, I knew he was the king in his world.
As I crossed the bridge that led to the island from the mainland, to our hometown, I was almost in awe of the spectacular view I’d almost forgotten. The ocean was just a few short blocks from the top of the bridge, and it called to me the same way it had every other time I’d crested the peak.
I was tired, but alert. I knew he didn’t call me to catch up on old times. I’m a lawyer, he’s in jail. Why he chose me, because a man like him with his position and all that money, made me believe that this was a special kind of bad. I’m here to represent him, but I wasn’t sure I was going to, not until I heard what this was about.
The small town where we grew up was just waking up, school buses were picking up kids, and people were heading out to work. I reached over and turned on the radio, looking forward to a taste of home.
“Police confirm,” the news was on, “that the body that washed up on shore late last week was a female, the fifth over the past six months.” Oh, my God! I turned up the volume, the story piquing my interest. “The Chief of Police has released a statement saying the primary suspect in the investigation was placed in custody late last night. A full investigation has begun.”
My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
No. Fucking. Way.
The air inside my car suddenly seemed to have disappeared as my breathing became labored. My vision receded to a tunnel as everything around me faded.
It can’t be, I felt myself shaking my head in disbelief as I felt the rush of blood drain from my face in shock.
There’s no way Julian Stone is a murderer.
A NOTE FROM ME
Acknowledgements
Thank you so much for reading Hawk’s story! I have to apologize because it’s a couple of months overdue. The end of 2018 was a bit hectic in my corner of the world, starting around Thanksgiving. Then my brother passed away, my oldest child moved away to college, my dog died, and then they had to go and throw the holidays into the mix, lol. Anyhow, it’s a new year and a new beginning. It’s going to be fabulous!
I have to thank some amazing women, because without them, I’d have lost my mind a long time ago.
Thank you is nowhere near enough to express my gratitude for your friendship, support, and unbelievable patience, especially during release time. And for not screaming at me with the tons of mock covers I made you look at. LOL.
Joy Di Biase-Giachino, Lord have mercy woman, if you weren’t in charge of the ARC team, I’d be in a strait jacket. Thank you. Fran Reading, thank you so much for always, always coming to my aid, no hesitation, when I ask, even with your life as busy as it is. Thank you. Linda Grevsmuhl, your calm exuberance is a balm to my frayed nerves. Thank you. Diane Dykes, your friendship and professionalism has undoubtedly gotten me through a lot of craziness, and has helped me get to where I am today. Thank you.
These ladies are my admin team and beta readers, and the work they do behind the scenes keeps me focused, sane, and very, very grateful. You guys are phenomenal, and you’re mine, I’m never letting you go, just saying.
My reader’s group, The Sanctuary, is the best damn bunch of readers any author could have. I love every single one of you. You have made the group a gotta be place, a safe haven not only for me, but for all the members.
Without bloggers, indie authors would be non-existent. Without your hard work and dedication to this community, none of us could do what we do. Please know how much we appreciate you, the long hours without pay you put in, your kindness and attentiveness, and your (sometimes) crazy ass reviews, (I’m talking to you, Jennifer Pierson, lol. I look forward to your review after each and every book). WE LOVE YOU. Some of the bloggers I’m going to mention have been with me since my very first book, and I am so honored you still work with me. Thank you.
Joy Di Biase-Giachino – A Wonderful World Of Words.
Fran Reading – Book Lovers Unite
Diane Dykes – Book Buddies
Pauline DiGaletos – Passionate About Books
Jennifer Pierson – The Power of 3 Readers
Angie Hallock & Lawonda Bush – A Book Lovers Emporium
Denise Williams – 3 Amigos Wicked Book Review
Ann Meemken – Jo & Isa Love Books
Wendy Wuttke – Girls Just Wanna Have Books
Stephanie Sanders – Life, Books & Loves
Lindsey Poage Norwood – Mommy’s Naughty Playgrond
Samantha Blundell – I Love HEA Romance
Pamela Wilson – FB Dreamer’s
Members of my ARC team,
and some damn good friends, all the ladies listed above, and:
Amanda Quiles, Robin Craig, Nicole Townsend Brown, Molly Sturgeon Lyon, Missy Triplett Bolick, Ann Lopez, Lorrie Van Meeter, Jamie Buchanan, Carolyn Spence, Sandy Kelly, Lisa Roberts, Kathi Soniat, Gladys Nason, and so many more I’m sure I’ve forgotten to mention, I’m sorry.
To my family. Thank you for your patience while I sit in my cave for hours, days, months on end. I love you more than I even know, you make life the magical place it is for me.
And finally, to you, the readers. I am in awe every time you message me and tell me how much you love my characters. I can’t believe I get to do this, and you love it. I sincerely appreciate the time you’ve taken to read this book and allowed me to spend some time with you. Thank you so much! Please consider leaving an honest review before delving into a new world.
~ All my love, N.M./Nadine Catalano xoxo
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
It’s sort of a funny thing how N.M./Nadine started writing. This is the true story:
She had just separated from her third husband - that’s right, three – and just like every other woman who has gone through that, it was an emotional time. Everyone experiences this more than likely, whether they are the instigator or not. Writing her first published women’s contemporary book, STRANGER, was a bit of a cleansing process. She sat down with a pen and a notebook – she wrote the whole thing in those marble notebooks – and just kept writing. When she was finished, she decided, “What the hell? Let’s publish it.” So she did. And people loved it. As of right now it’s fifteen books later, she’s still writing passionate stories centered around a suspenseful, sometimes dark, sometimes twisted, story line.
She is a bestselling, multi-published author and loves the indie publishing community.
One of the most important things she feels a writer must do is to truly love their characters. How can the characters be loved if the creator isn’t madly in love with them? Crazy? Maybe. But she loves every single one of them.
She has partied with the best of them in her twenties, met the two true loves of her life in her thirties, (her children), and is now finding she’d rather sit back and be alone, if not she’s with her family, than in a crowd of people. I suppose she’s become a bit of a recluse. She used to say when she was younger she wanted to win the lottery so she could join the Peace Corps. Well, she hasn’t hit the big numbers, but she does what she can for the betterment of mankind in her own little ways.
Writing her stories is one way she truly hopes she brings a little sunshine into your life.
"I am just a woman, like many of you, who has lived through beauty and ugliness, happiness, (sometimes extreme), and sadness, (sometimes heart wrenching), and have grown to love life and myself even more. I write because I love the characters, I am madly and hopelessly in love with them and want to share them with you. Life is beautiful and is meant to be enjoyed day by day, sometimes you have to pick out the good stuff with a magnifying glass like a needle in a haystack, but enjoyed none the less. The stories that I put on paper, I think, help us to find that enjoyment a little bit more.
I am just a woman who is in love with love…<3"
Connect with her at:
Blog where you’ll find free short-stories: https://nmcatalanoauthor.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nmcatalanowriter
Join my private readers group on Facebook to get news first and special nowhere else giveaways: http://bit.ly/2kKBu8O
Twitter: @nmcatalanowriter
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/catalanoauthor/
Newsletter, (to receive notices of giveaways, and chapters of upcoming releases nowhere else available): http://eepurl.com/bpEW9X
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