Lea Griffith's Blog
March 3, 2016
Okay, Readers…my site is in flux…
Hello, All!
My site is a bit out of date and I’m working with The Digital Hook to get everything up to date. If you have any questions about recent or upcoming releases, please hit me up via email or message me on Facebook or Twitter. You can find the links on the About Me tab.
I know many of you are waiting on Kiss of a Blade but due to a previously scheduled release of Retrieval this month (March) Kiss of a Blade has been delayed to May. Don’t hurt me–I’m a fragile sort. I promise the wait will be worth it. Don’t give up on my killers, yeah?
I hope you day is amazing.
Love,
Lea
January 7, 2016
Retribution is here!
But today, let’s celebrate–I’m re-releasing my GenTech Chronicles series beginning with RETRIBUTION. Yes, this is a previously published book but she’s been overhauled and has a brand new cover. Next month, you’ll get book 2, Deliverance which is a never-before-released book. Following that in March is Retrieval, another re-release with a brand new cover.
I love this series. These are the very first book I penned. My voice and style haven’t changed much-I still love my alpha men and women and I still love suspense. This series will take you to new places–it’s a mash up of romantic suspense with some science fiction and paranormal thrown in for good measure. It’s about the things that go bump in the night and how they may or may not be all that bad.
But there’s always the love brewing between my hero and heroine. So grab a copy and lay back–let me do the work, yeah?
Retribution is live!
She is a woman lost but now found.
Sasha has spent her life dedicated to the freedoms of others. Used to helping, she isn’t prepared to be the one in need. As she holds the hand of suffering, alone in a courtyard of death, she discovers salvation is but a breath away.
He is a man conveniently at the right place, at the right time.
A battle-hardened spec ops soldier, Dray has been sent on a mission he doesn’t understand. Sitting in the hills above a terrorist’s compound he discovers a woman who is knocking on death’s door and everything clicks. Rescuing her is never a question. Keeping her safe becomes his number one priority.
Evil has taken form, and hell hath no fury like this madman’s twisted mind.
Dempsey isn’t above using whatever or whoever he can to enact payback for a perceived slight. And he revels in his ability to instill fear and pain on those he deems beneath him. His goal is vengeance and yet he has no idea what he’s set in motion or the lengths Dray and Sasha will go to protect themselves and eliminate him in the process.
They are on a collision course that will change their lives in ways none could anticipate. How much can love take when evil stalks it?
Now available at all fine eBook retailers.
July 21, 2015
A little snippet…Kiss of a Blade
So I’ve been a little hit and miss on social media. I’ve been in my writing cave grabbing all the words. So because I’ve been a little light with the posting, I thought I’d reward my readers with a snippet of my upcoming No Mercy book, Kiss of a Blade. Sharing is caring, right? 
June 4, 2015
MISLED Release Day!
I’m excited to see an old story revamped and revised and I’m proud to bring you, MISLED, book 1 in my Hidden Lies series!
If you’re looking for a hot, forbidden romance with just enough suspense to wet your whistle, step into Ryan and Sophie’s world.
She wants something she’s never had… his love.
Sophie Hanson has done the unthinkable—she’s fallen in love with her boss. She wasn’t prepared for the punch of his gaze or the feel of his arms around her. The fact that he’s her boss notwithstanding, she wants him with a force that is becoming harder to ignore.
He needs something he’s afraid to hold on to… her.
Ryan Locke wants the unthinkable—Sophie Hanson. That she’s his employee is quickly becoming irrelevant. Employer-employee relationships are a landmine but he’s willing to overlook the danger in the face of his overwhelming desire for her.
Sometimes love can be misled.
Overcoming that employer-employee barrier isn’t the issue. A depth of feeling neither have experienced before isn’t the issue. Sometimes it’s the hidden things which come to light that could ruin a love before it’s had a chance to properly begin.
Available at:
(click on the site to be directed to Misled’s page)
And all other eBook retailers!
May 23, 2015
MISLED Cover Reveal…
A few of you may remember MISLED’s initial title, Fistful of Roses. Long story short, I got my rights back to the book and revamped it, added some scenes and changed the cover to reflect the heat that occurs in the pages. I love this story. Ryan and Sophie grabbed my heart when I first wrote it and they’ve held on. It is book 1 of my Hidden Lies Series. Book 2 is coming your way soon–titled, EXPOSED.
I’m proud to bring you, Misled. And, oh yes, it’s up for pre-order on Amazon. Just click the beautiful cover below and it’ll take you straight there. 
She wants something she’s never had… his love.
Sophie Hanson has done the unthinkable—she’s fallen in love with her boss. She wasn’t prepared for the punch of his gaze or the feel of his arms around her. The fact that he’s her boss notwithstanding, she wants him with a force that is becoming harder to ignore.
He needs something he’s afraid to hold on to… her.
Ryan Locke wants the unthinkable—Sophie Hanson. That she’s his employee is quickly becoming irrelevant. Employer-employee relationships are a landmine but he’s willing to overlook the danger in the face of his overwhelming desire for her.
Sometimes love can be misled.
Overcoming that employer-employee barrier isn’t the issue. A depth of feeling neither have experienced before isn’t the issue. Sometimes it’s the hidden things which come to light that could ruin a love before it’s had a chance to properly begin.
April 23, 2015
What’s coming up? (Oh yeah, and a Kiss of a Blade teaser…)
Lots of good stuff coming up, my lovelies.
1. The Way of the Warrior releases May 5, 2015.
EIGHT PASSIONATE LOVE STORIES ABOUT AMAZING MILITARY HEROES BY BESTSELLING AUTHORS:
Suzanne Brockmann, Julie Ann Walker, Catherine Mann, Tina Wainscott, Anne Elizabeth, M.L. Buchman, Kate SeRine, Lea Griffith
To honor and empower those who’ve served, all author and publisher proceeds go to the Wounded Warrior Project.
The Wounded Warrior Project was founded in 2002 and provides a wide range of programs and services to veterans and service members who have survived physical or mental injury during their brave service to our nation. Get involved or register for programs and benefits for yourself and your family online at www.woundedwarriorproject.org.
“It is a proud privilege to be a soldier.” —George S. Patton Jr.
“We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us.” —Winston Churchill
(Click on the cover for a link to Amazon–this will be available in Paperback and Ebook at all major retailers)
2. I will be attending the RT Convention in Dallas, Tx, May 12-17, 2015.
Click on the ‘RT’ for more information.
If you’re a fan and looking to meet some incredible authors, please consider joining us in Dallas. It’ll be a hella good time.
If you’re one of my fans personally, please make sure you find me. I love hugs and chatting and there could be a night where we all go to dinner. So HIT ME UP! I’ll be looking for you.
3. I realize waiting for my No Mercy Series releases is driving some of you batty. So I have some info I hope alleviates your anxiety. Due to releases being pushed back for health and other reason, Kiss of a Blade will release July, 2015.
Oh, and here’s an unedited snippet. I don’t have a cover yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll share.
(See how I did that? I hurt you then I made it all better.)
Unedited excerpt from Kiss of a Blade (Hey, Sadi–this one’s for you, Happy Birthday!)
Sydney, Australia
The man sat with his back to the room. Broad shoulders encased in a night-black cashmere sweater that hugged the planes of his body, highlighting the heavy muscles of his arms and back. His hair was equally as black as the fabric gracing his body, longer than she’d ever seen it, and touching the neckline of his sweater. She fisted her hands. Blade knew what his hair felt like and she disliked him for that.
Bone had asked her once why she never used the word ‘hate’. Blade reminded her sister she used that term exclusively for their creator.
Silverware clanged against china and Blade was pulled back to the present.
The man she’d stalked here didn’t move, indeed it seemed he barely breathed. His hands rested on the table as he stared out the huge bank of windows overlooking Sydney Harbor. Blade knew what his hands felt like as well and it was yet another reason to dislike the man.
Ken Nodachi. His name meant “sword” and as it whispered through her mind, she recognized both his determination and strength. His name told the story of the man eloquently.
She’d both moaned his name and cursed it what seemed a thousand times.
Her prey stiffened almost imperceptibly and his head turned to the right as if he would look over his shoulder but he stopped. His lips curved, the hard line of his chin tensing and then he nodded before looking back into the night before them. Blade smiled at the arrogance of his gesture. He knew she was here and that was good.
Nodachi was either the stupidest man alive, or the bravest. Either way, tonight was his reckoning with her. It mattered not if she had to go so far as to cut him—he would divulge where the boy was and then their song and dance would be over.
She would mourn that were she a different woman.
“Beidh mo lanna chanadh anocht,” she whispered and joy sang through her blood.
She stepped fully into the sprawling luxury of the restaurant and headed directly to his table. Men and women both stopped with their forks halfway to their mouths, eyeing her, making her skin crawl. Blade disliked attention, preferred to hide her true face and form whenever possible, but tonight it was appropriate. Nodachi had something that was First Team’s and it didn’t matter who the fuck knew she’d come to get it. He had hidden the boy here nearly eight months ago and for Blade that was an eternity. For the boy it was probably longer. He’d never been two weeks without seeing one of them. Bullet, Arrow, Bone and Blade were his mothers, sisters, and friends and without them he was surely suffering.
Nodachi would pay for that.
She smiled at one man who dribbled soup down the front of his shirt and then she made her way to Nodachi’s table, sliding into the seat with ease and grace. She’d worn a sapphire blue, silk kimono dress that hugged every curve she had and made her skin glow. Her hair had grown enough that it lay in soft, pressed ringlets against her head. She’d been told her hair was as bright as the moon, as silver as the lining of a cloud. Her hair was white in her opinion—the color leached out long ago by the deeds of her life.
Joseph had shorn her hair off completely months ago. She’d returned to Arequipa to save two particular babies—Mother and Jesuit. Joseph had caught her and she’d paid for it. He’d nearly taken her scalp but at the last minute had stayed Minton’s hands saying he would like for it to grow back so he could take it once again. Joseph had let Minton take Jesuit’s life instead of her scalp, saying it wasn’t nearly enough but he could wait.
She was glad Bone had killed Minton.
Blade placed her small purse on the table, sat down and crossed her legs. She glanced up, over the chest she’d once rested her head against, up the strong bronze column of his throat, across his stubbornly squared jaw and then she met his gaze, adamantine ebony so hard she felt she would crack against it.
Her breath fled but she smiled, catching it once again as she inclined her head in his direction. “Mr. Nodachi.”
He bowed his head slightly, the action inherently noble, but his black eyes burned. “Blade.” His deep voice tuggged at her soul.
Her body softened, turned inviting and she let her need for him shine though her eyes for a single moment. Blade kept secrets but she did not lie. It was a fine line she’d walked for years but she did it well.
He inhaled, eyes blazing and then lowering to zero in on her pulse and the flush she allowed to creep up her chest and cheeks. His own cheeks went ruddy and his right hand fisted tighter. It was good to know she still affected him this way.
Good, but irrelevant.
One night in Shanghai, a year ago, when the moon had been bigger than the sun, she’d taken Ken Nodachi into her body, allowing him access to a piece of her she’d managed to hide from everyone her entire life.
He’d made her pay for it but her body would probably never get the message. As such he was a weakness for Blade. But she’d been weak before and she would survive again.
The waiter walked up then, holding a bottle of what was no doubt the best in the restaurant. “Mademoiselle?”
She nodded, he poured, the rich red Cabernet reminding her of the blood she would soon shed. He would deny her and she would be forced to hurt him. Her stomach rolled. The tug was still there though, a reminder all its own of her lust for the man across from her.
Nodachi waved the waiter off and picked up his whiskey, downing it and handing the empty snifter to the man. The waiter hurried away and they once again seemed alone in the middle of a packed five-star restaurant.
Blade sipped the wine, barely containing a moan before she licked her top lip. She felt more than witnessed his body going hard. It was as if a livewire connected them and her body acknowledged it by going liquid.
She shifted and placed the delicate crystal wineglass on the table before she met his gaze. “Where is he?”
No preamble, no pleasantries. She wanted the boy. Bullet had told her once that killing was not a game and sometimes you had to kill the things that made you smile. Kill them before they killed you. Joseph had taught them all to be wary of wolves in sheep’s clothing. Trust no one except your sisters. Allow no one close.
She didn’t want to kill Nodachi. But she would.
He smiled. “The special is especially intriguing tonight, killer. Perhaps we should eat before we fight?”
Oh, his voice stroked every exposed area of her skin, sinking deep to tear at the delicate fabric of her resistance.
“I find my belly is full tonight but I thank you for your offer,” she said, keeping her voice light and airy.
“So you are full? Killing does that to you, doesn’t it? Fills you up but never quite quenches your hunger…” He leaned back in his seat as the waiter brought him another drink.
She shrugged, refusing to answer. “I must know what makes you think we will fight?”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “You have a certain feel riding you tonight.”
Her skin tingled. “And you know me well enough to know what I feel like?”
His black gaze speared her, pinning her like a butterfly to a collection board. She tried to move, found herself well and truly caught and shrugged.
He chuckled. “I think we both remember Shanghai, kirā.”
Killer, he called her in his mother’s native Japanese. His voice was much deeper than Arrow’s but it soothed the ragged edges inside Blade just as easily.
She was disgusted at her reaction to him. “I remember the moon and I remember your lies. I remember my weakness and your manipulations. I remember your pulse against my blade. I remember the sound of your moans, the feel of your pleas and the taste of your release.” She sighed once and then met his gaze without flinching. “I could never forget Shanghai, Mr. Nodachi.”
He inclined his head at her again, face blank, eyes shuttered. “I must admit I was taken by a master. You were taught well. You knew exactly how to move, exactly how to writhe and exactly where to squeeze. The pleasure I had within your body was a singular experience.”
Something inside her shattered and she would have called it pain, but was too familiar with hurt to give it that name. The sound of the falling shards reverberated in her ears. She would never be able to forget what she was, the things she had been forced to do. Out of everything she had ever shared with anyone, why had she shared that with Nodachi?
She pulled the pieces together, tightening her resolve as she continued to stare at him. “If you think to strike at me with my past you will find it an empty, fruitless game. I am what I am, but what I’m best at you could be acquainted with firsthand tonight.”
His lips held a bitter curve now. “Something better than fucking? Killing perhaps? You forget, Saxen, I’ve seen you kill too.”
Blade pushed the rage back. She controlled it with ease, leashing its fiery, rending claws with a single breath. He knew her name. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, taking her time as he waited for her foray. She lifted the glass to her lips once more, drinking the wine until the glass was empty before she glanced out the enormous bank of windows overlooking Sydney Harbor.
“I am Blade and killing is what I do best. I have a lot of practice, as I’m sure you already know. Tell me, Nodachi, has Cain been filling your ear with stories?” She asked, keeping her voice light and unconcerned.
“Who is this Cain you speak of?” he queried nonchalantly, but the truth was in his eyes.
She would give him no quarter now. He’d started this when all he had to do was tell her where the boy was. “Do you know who set up Lily’s and Anna’s deaths?”
His big shoulders rose in a negligent gesture. “Minton. We know that now thanks to your sisters.”
He sneered the last word and the menace inside her heart built. While she shied from using hate in reference to anyone but Bombardier, the scent and taste of it poured from Ken Nodachi. But her sisters shouldn’t be the target of his barbed emotion. That they were angered Blade.
She sighed aloud, then let the silence grow before she said, “Ah, yes, Minton. He did take their lives, but the kill was set up by Josias Burns. Josias Burns comes from a long line of killers. He kills for money and pleasure I’m told. I’ll ask him when next we meet. His specialty is setup though his aim is impeccable. I believe you know him as Cain.”
He narrowed his gaze on her, his fury communicating in small ways—the tightening at the edge of his mouth and eyes, the muscle ticking in his temple. He had loved his sister and niece ferociously and when they’d been killed he’d gone a mission to bring their killers to justice. Now that Minton was dead, Nodachi was aiming for Joseph. He’d been willing to turn over whatever rock necessary to get closer to the devil and had eventually found Cain, the unspoken leader of the Sicariorum.
“You had to know the man wasn’t trustworthy. I’m sure he’s taken you for a lot of money though. Pity,” she said with a shrug of her own. “Cain knows you now, Mr. Nodachi, so it would seem you’ll have another dogging your heels.”
Her SAT phone rang within the confines of her purse. Her spine tingled and her muscles loosened. She pulled the phone out, keeping her gaze trained on Nodachi. “Yes,” she said by way of answer.
“I have a job for you, Blade. One last job and we will both play this game in earnest.”
Joseph’s voice scratched across her mind, leaving trails of white-hot rage. Everything froze in the midst of her fury.
She chuckled without mirth. “One last you say?”
Her mentor’s voice held the sound of every kill he’d ever made, whether personally or through his teams of assassins. There was a beauty to it she couldn’t deny. He’d been created almost perfectly in face and form. Much like Satan, he was the ultimate wolf and destroyer.
“Ah, my precious Blade. I can hear the eagerness in your voice. Where my Bone lusted for death, my Blade brings joy to the end.” He paused and then, “I have the girl. Your father lies broken within the castle’s walls and your mother, well…the child, Blade. Whose is she? She looks familiar.”
There was a smile in his voice and that was never good.
Blade stiffened, listening even as her gaze began re-cataloguing every face in the restaurant. Every movement every person made came to her in a split second.
There! By a dinner cart, twenty feet away, a big man, rough hands and a knife whittling through his fingers. His gaze was on the people he served but his attention was wholly on her.
By the door, another woman, a smile on her face as she spoke with a patron, but her eyes strayed over the restaurant, seeking.
“Get on with it, you bastard,” she hissed.
Ken stood then, leaning on the table as his eyes searched the room. “Where?” he mouthed.
She shook her head.
“I want his fucking head. Bring it to me and maybe we can trade.”
The ice began to thaw. “You don’t have anything to trade though, Joseph.”
“You can hope, but the truth is I’m looking at a very special little girl right now. There are tears in her green eyes and her hair, my, my, my, it looks like yours. Sister, Blade? Or more?” He laughed then and in the background Blade heard a small child’s cry.
It could all be for show. Or he could have the one person that meant more to Blade than the boy or her sisters.
It was too much of a risk. “Done,” she bit out and disconnected.
The man posing as a waiter turned to her, smiled, and began heading her way. Ken cut him off, leveling him with a single punch to the throat. She swore Nodachi was as fast as Bone.
He turned then and headed toward her but in that second the world exploded, glass flying everywhere as flames rushed through the restaurant. Blade went down and rolled under a table, pulling at the tablecloth and ripping a strip wide enough to cover her nose and mouth. She tied it on and pulled a switchblade from her purse.
Then she got to her feet, ears ringing and the wind sucking at her. They were fifty stories above the harbor and the explosion had blown out the windows, leaving a vacuum of air to pull at them.
She glanced around, saw Nodachi rising from the floor and then she saw the woman coming for him. Blade began running, may have called his name because his gaze locked on her. He glanced over his shoulder, saw how close the woman was and he lowered his shoulder. Blade made it to them right as the woman sailed over his back.
Blade caught the woman’s throat with her switchblade and flicked her wrist. Blood spurted, the color of the wine she’d drunk earlier and beautiful as it fell to the white carpet.
The woman looked up at Blade, horror on her face. Blade kicked her lightly and the woman fell to her back, struggling to hold the blood inside her body.
Over the ringing in her ears came the sound of gunfire. Men were pouring inside the restaurant, clad in black, balaclavas covering their faces, wicked rifles at their shoulders.
She spared a single glance for Nodachi. He nodded, face grim. She ran, entering the kitchens, dodging the bullets being sprayed at them. Fires raged here, people lying on the ground, coughing or dying. She couldn’t save them.
She had to save Ken Nodachi.
The dichotomy of her thoughts struck her out of the blue. She’d come prepared to kill him and now she was going to save his life.
I love my readers dearly. Now got get all the words!!!
March 5, 2015
BONE DEEP RELEASE DAY!!
We’re getting closer to the truth and yet never have we been farther away.
Joseph is theirs. Can they defeat him?
On sale now!
And it’s available wherever eBooks are sold.
To my readers–I love you guys so hard. You have no idea. I appreciate your patience and love for these killers of mine. I hope you enjoy Bone’s story and come back to me for more.
February 22, 2015
You asked for it–you got it…Bone Deep Teaser
Don’t worry–I got you.
So here it is, a snippet from Bone Deep, releasing March 5, 2015.
Vadim had been expecting him. Dmitry was ushered into the main salon and offered a heavy crystal snifter of Vadim’s finest vodka. Dmitry tossed it back and let out a loud groan. The vodka chased away the headache he sported since being choked out by Bone.
Vadim laughed and clapped him on the back. “How is the son of my blood-brother?”
“I will be better soon,” Dmitry said vaguely.
The game was in play. When he’d recovered after watching Bone jump off a five story building into the canal below, he’d straightened his clothing and headed to Yesipov’s mansion outside St. Petersburg.
“Yes,” Vadim breathed out heavily. “Once we find the bitch who did this, we will all be better. My brother lies dead and my nephew had his head nearly taken off. Did you see it?”
Dmitry looked his greatest enemy in the face and shook his head. “I was being serviced in the bathroom, Vadim. I missed it. When I came out, there was chaos and people were screaming about a woman. I tried to save Boris but was too late. He was already gone when I found him among the dead.”
Vadim wiped a tear from his eye. Dmitry wanted to punch him until blood poured from his face instead of tears. He relaxed his hands lest he shatter the glass he held.
“My brother had his faults. I’m sure Anatoly is somehow responsible for this. I tried to tell him but he refused to listen to me,” Vadim reported sadly. “It seems I now have a position to fill, Dmitry.”
Dmitry barely controlled his wince. The bastard would waste no time, eh? “You know I am searching for my family’s killer, Vadim. I have no time for the Bratva,” he bit out.
Vadim’s face tightened, and his gaze skated away from Dmitry’s. The bastard was about to lie. It was the perfect time to take his life but something held Dmitry’s hand.
“Dmitry, there is time to right old wrongs. For tonight let’s look to the future. I need an underboss. I know you’ve been working with those Americans.” He spat the word as if the taste was foul. Dmitry smiled. Vadim didn’t notice. “I can forgive you working against my interests if you will but return to the fold.” He let a few moments pass before he finished with, “Your father would want that. And I’ve been fair in not pursuing you these last few years. I had to give you time to grieve. But the time to return to family is upon you.”
Dmitry was many things—patient, understanding, but in the face of Vadim’s lies and manipulations he was left with nothing but wrath. He understood what made Bone tick in that moment. What made all the women of First Team long for the death of the ones who’d created them. Yes, he’d trained to kill. Yes, he’d dispensed his fair share of death. But somewhere in the midst of his father’s follies and the loss of his brother, sisters, and mother, Dmitry had become more than a simple desire for revenge. It’s why the hatred caught him unaware. At that moment he was revenge.
It beat at him, much as his lust for a killer earlier. The rhythm of that need pounded in his veins. He reached under his jacket before a man walked into the room toward Vadim. The way the big man walked, flowed in his space, reminded him of someone but Dmitry couldn’t place who. He wore the skin of a mafia enforcer but there was more under the mask of indifference and it put Dmitry on alert.
The man whispered in Vadim’s ear and Vadim’s gaze landed on Dmitry, before he veiled his eyes and nodded at his man. “Dmitry, this is Azrael. He’s got something he wants to show us,” Vadim said softly.
Interesting. The man was named after the Angel of Death from the Koran. His senses sharpened, taking in the man’s hands, calloused with use on the edges—the hands of a fighter. Azrael held himself still and wary and it struck Dmitry who he reminded him of…Bone. He took a slow, even breath and let it out. Time slowed infinitesimally. There were five men outside the closed door to the study. Each had three handguns but limited training in using them. Vadim was a pussy, and therefore no threat. But Azrael, well he was a different story. Dmitry held onto his glass. He’d been stripped of his weapon when he walked in the door, but the glass was just as useful. He’d have to get closer to whoever needed killing but he would be fine.
“Come and watch with us, syn,” Vadim urged.
Son, he called him. The pounding at the base of his skull returned but Dmitry nodded and walked closer to the pair. Azrael turned on the large screen television hanging on the wall and there in high-definition display was Yesipov’s club earlier that night. Azrael then stepped back, head lowered, hands at his sides, waiting.
Dmitry glanced at Vadim. “What is this?”
Vadim shook his head and his mouth turned down. “It is the club earlier tonight. There you see,” he pointed at the screen, “there you are. And there! There is the woman who killed my brother! Did you not tell me you were in another part of the club and therefore didn’t see my son and nephew taken down?” Vadim’s tone was slick, oily, and Dmitry readied himself.
He judged Azrael’s stance, took the measure of the man and prepared. He’d take Vadim first. There would be no time to revel but the killing would be done and that’s why he’d returned to Russia. For Vadim and for Bone. Vadim’s gaze remained on the screen and from the corner of his eye Dmitry saw the entire scene play out.
Vadim cursed and cried out and Dmitry made his move. “You killed Boris!” Vadim yelled.
Dmitry was on him before the final word slid from his lips. He crashed the crystal against the other man’s skull, following him down to the ground and straddling him. He had just grabbed a shard of the glass when a pistol pressed against his temple.
“Let him up,” the man, Azrael, said in a voice so low Dmitry had to strain to hear him.
He spoke perfect English, with no accent and his voice carried the same tones First Team’s did. Death. Dmitry considered going for the gun, but the man chuckled and cocked the pistol.
“Do not do it, Asinimov. I know you enjoy a good fight, but tonight is not about you. Now get up and take a seat on the sofa, won’t you?”
Vadim groaned under Dmitry. It would be so easy, but what would taking Vadim’s life mean if Dmitry had to give his own in the process? Revenge would be sweet but the objective was to live to experience it. The desire to kill thrashed inside him and there was Bone, drifting through his thoughts. No, Dmitry had more to live for than the death of Vadim Yesipov. He raised his hands slowly, letting the shard of glass slide down his sleeve until it finally fell to his waistband.
“Get up, Asinimov. We’ll have company soon,” Azrael murmured.
“Oh, you started without me.”
Her voice stroked over him, the dulcet tones soothing but parlaying her intent with ease. Soon was now. It did not surprise Dmitry she was there. Not at all.
“I would have expected to meet you on equal footing, Azrael. That you’re here indicates Joseph is getting sloppy.”
“We are not equals, Bone Breaker. I am your superior by far,” Azrael said with a smile.
She tsked and then laughed. It was a hard, caustic sound. Dmitry winced as it scraped his eardrums. “You and your brothers are superior in your minds only. I pity that you believe Joseph when he tells you any different. What must it be like to do his bidding, thinking there is no one better than you? What must it be like to be that stupid?”
Azrael didn’t take her bait and just as Dmitry made to move, the man shot him in the shoulder. Blinding pain ripped through him as he fell to the side and rolled behind the sofa. He breathed through the sting, shoving it aside as he took in the scene—Vadim sobbing like a baby on the floor, the replay of what happened in the club earlier on the television and there was Bone, by the door watching Azrael, who now faced her.
“Did you think shooting Asinimov would hurt me?” she asked in a deadened voice.
Her face was a testament that there was a God and he knew beauty. Her tone was proof there was a devil and he’d built her from the ashes of his despair. Her high forehead and cheekbones, straight nose with nostrils that flared just slightly, and full lips, though all perfectly formed, were simply a backdrop for the hazel glass of her doe eyes. Those eyes could skewer a man, make him forget he’d been born for anything other than gazing at her. Inside the jade-splintered blue-tinged gold were a million secrets and Dmitry wanted to discover them all, forget them and do it all over again. He’d lost his fucking mind.
Azrael remained perfectly still. “My goal is not to hurt, sister. It is to destroy. The others are searching for you even now. The Sicariorum are coming.”
The hair on the back of Dmitry’s neck stood on end. Sicariorum was the Latin word for assassins. That they’d been named, much as First Team was named, gave Dmitry both pause and concern.
“We are all assassins in our own way, Azrael. There is nothing to fear when you face one cut from the same cloth as you. In fact, it should be your greatest joy. Put the gun down, brother,” she ordered, apparently unfazed by the fact others like her were seeking to kill her.
Disbelief streaked through Dmitry when the man did as Bone ordered. Honor among killers. Vadim’s sobs had quieted though he remained on the floor. Dmitry too remained where he was, waiting for another opportunity. He wouldn’t allow Azrael to harm her but neither would he move too soon. Azrael never took his gaze from Bone. It was eerie the concentration the man displayed. He was too controlled by half and that more than anything else worried Dmitry.
“We could dance Azrael, but it would be a waste of effort on my part. There is nothing you can teach me. Come to me, brother, and let me ease your pain,” she said softly.
“I have no pain. I am as you now, a perfect killer,” he returned, assurance peppering his words.
She nodded, and the action was sad. “The perfection you seek is but a myth. Without truly feeling pain, knowing every nuance in your heart, body and soul, you cannot inflict it. Tell me, Azrael, where is Joseph? Close? Here already? Tell me and I will make it quick for you.”
Bone hadn’t moved an inch from her place at the door yet Dmitry recognized she knew everything about her surroundings. He’d known she would come and try to steal Vadim from him. The interplay between her and a man who was obviously another of Joseph’s killers had him thrown though. She treated Azrael as a mother would treat her child. Loving. Patient. A look of rage blanketed Azrael’s face then. And so it began. He was in his space one moment and locked in combat with Bone the next. Dmitry barely followed his movements he was so quick.
Dmitry stood and raced for the gun Azrael set aside. He’d just grabbed it when the sound of bones popping and cracking met his ear. He turned and watched as Bone held both of Azrael’s hands in hers, crushing them. Azrael made not a sound but he was on his knees. Bone wasn’t breathing hard and did not have a single mark on her. That such a tiny, delicate woman held a man twice her size in check with nothing more than her hands would have been unbelievable had he not witnessed it for himself.
“Brother,” she whispered. “You weren’t ready for me. I know there are others and it is my promise to you that I will free them as I free you. You have been brave. Take your peace and find forever.”
Azrael’s head drooped and it seemed he was bowing, accepting and acceding to the greater power.
“Don’t do this, Togarmah,” Dmitry said over the rushing of the blood in his ears, using her given name to jar her.
She stilled for a moment but didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. She released Azrael’s hands and stroked over the soot-colored strands of his hair. The she grabbed his head in her hands and between one breath and the next she twisted, breaking his neck and taking his life. She glanced up at Dmitry and he went to a knee, the breath knocked from him. Her eyes were black, the pupils blown and glassy. Pain, fear, and pleasure commanded that reaction of the pupils. Bone had already acknowledged pain was her friend and she felt no fear. That left pleasure and it broke Dmitry’s heart that a woman, any woman, would know joy in killing.
“The mistake was mine in giving you my name. Allow me to correct it now. Do not ever call me that again, Asinimov. My name is my own,” she bit out. “I am Bone and it is all I will ever be.” Her voice raked his soul.
She stepped over Azrael’s body and picked up a wing-backed chair, wedging it under the door handles to the room. Then she turned and made her way to Vadim. She didn’t acknowledge Dmitry in any way.
He would have intercepted her but something stopped him—some intangible caution kept his feet still. This kill was his by blood right but he remained where he was. He didn’t understand it at all. She lifted Vadim by his lapels and thrust him on the sofa. The man whimpered. Vadim was at least two hundred pounds heavier than Bone and a good foot taller, but she moved him as if were a ragdoll and he let her.
“You have killed innocents,” she said softly.
Vadim opened his mouth but nothing came out. Bone walked around behind him and stood, not touching him. It was enough of a threat that Vadim’s pants wet at the front.
She sighed and it rang with death. “You have sold young girls into slavery for years and years, Vadim Yesipov.”
“He is mine,” Dmitry said, finding his voice. He couldn’t let her have him.
Her gaze sought his and when their eyes met, Dmitry hissed in a breath. “Why would you take him?”
“He killed my father,” Dmitry answered. He was on autopilot, every sense blanketed, overcome, by her.
She shook her head. “No, he did not.”
Chills danced up his spine as a warning shot through his brain. Something was wrong with this entire picture. Dmitry didn’t move, blood pouring from his shoulder, pain breaking over him in great waves as confusion rained down. “You know who it was.”
She remained silent, simply staring.
“I gave the order,” Vadim wheezed from the couch.
“It mattered not that you gave any order, Yesipov. You forget who pulls your strings,” Bone quipped. She cocked her head but her gaze never left Dmitry and his soul froze.
“Who was it?” he demanded, his voice strident in the enormous, quiet room.
“A killer.” She directed her next words to Vadim Yesipov. “I have followed you from the time I knew your name. I have watched as you and your partner sold young girls to Joseph, stepping away from their cries for freedom, abandoning them to a life filled with strife and pain. Tell me, Yesipov, I would know—do you think you are a good man?”
February 10, 2015
Something for my Readers…Interlude, No Mercy 2.5
Three short stories–enough to tug your heart, make your fists clench, and wet your whistle.
I’m getting you ready for BONE DEEP, releasing March 5, 2015.
Bullet, Arrow, and Bone.
Sit down for an INTERLUDE with my Killers.
A special thank you to Georgia Woods and Lisa Hart–you know why.
Now get to reading, people!
It’s Going to be a Great Day…
First things first: RELEASE DAY!
MORE, book 2 in my All or Nothing series is here!!
Three years ago, Ruthie Copeland ran away from an erotic connection that shook her to the core. Now she realizes that Tobias Edwards is the only man who can give her what she craves. Determined to reignite the dangerous flame between them, Ruthie seeks him out at The Underground—and discovers a changed man. Though Ruthie, blind since childhood, cannot see the scars on Toby’s face that forced him to seal off his heart, her gentle submission eases the pain of her body’s only Master.
Toby stopped feeling after Ruthie left, stopped expecting to find release in meaningless dominance play. Now that Ruthie has taken their dance to the limits of ecstasy, Toby’s lost in a haze of sensation. Yet the enemies that left him disfigured may reappear at any moment. Ruthie’s love gives him the strength to face those who seek to break him, but Toby fears he must leave her to save her life.
More is an erotic romance intended for mature audiences.
Advance praise for More
“Emotionally gripping and off-the-charts hot, the All or Nothing series is a must-read!”—Stacey Kennedy, USA Today bestselling author of Bared
(Click on the cover and it will take you to Amazon, but please know it’s available at all major eBook retailers)
And I want you to check back later today for a very special surprise for readers of my No Mercy series.
You’ll like this one, trust me.
