THORNES OF DEATH Release
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𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙄𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙛𝙞𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.
𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡. 𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙪𝙥𝙩.
It started with one innocent look across a room in Paris. He was a lot older than me. A Roman god dressed in an Italian suit, surrounded by an aura I couldn’t resist.
When I ran into him again, 𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡. But little did I know, a night full of carnal pleasure would 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.
When Enrico Marchetti wanted something, he didn’t just take it. He possessed it. Now, his sights were set on me.
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜. They surrounded him, his dead wife, his children.
I wanted no part of it, but there was no escaping him. He had taken me to his kingdom, locked the doors, and thrown away the key.
𝙉𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚.
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“Tell me what you want.” His voice was dark. Seductive. It made it hard to process his words.
“What do you mean?” I breathed, blinking. He was intoxicating. If I didn’t get away from the cheating devil, I’d ravish him in the first dark corner I could find.
“I want another night.” I had no doubt this man got everything— fucking everything—he ever wanted. All he had to do was snap his fingers, and people obliged. I refused to be one of them, if not for the simple reason that it was wrong.
“Well, go have another night,” I said sweetly. “With your wife. Or someone else. But it won’t be with me.” His grip on my wrist tight- ened. “Let go of me, or I’ll make a scene.”
The moment the words slipped through my lips, I knew it wouldn’t matter to him. If he was in the mafia, I’d wager causing scenes was right up his alley.
His gaze traveled over me, slowly and sensually, and damn it, my body responded to the heat radiating from every inch of his big, muscled frame. My pulse kicked into high gear, and I watched as his gaze locked on the throbbing vein in my neck.
He smiled, those full lips curving smugly, but still his eyes flashed with darkness. The consuming kind that would refuse to let me go. I shivered in response. My eyes, half-lidded, met his, unable to break this pull he had on me. I imagined he knew it too.
He took a step closer, his sculpted body barely brushing against mine. Unable to move, I held my breath—waiting—as a hazy rush of lust pooled in my lower stomach. It pulled at my muscles, stretching me thin, and suddenly I worried whether I was strong enough to resist this man.
“Enrico, we have a—” The interruption was welcome. By me, at least. Judging by Enrico’s expression, it wasn’t perceived well by him. He was pissed off at the intruder. Fucker thought he got me.
He almost did.
I gave his chest a pat. Bad move, Isla. The feel of his hard, muscular chest under my palm lit sparks beneath my skin, sizzling me to my core.
“Mr. Marchetti, stop crowding me and annoying the shit out of me,” I said sweetly, pulling my wrist from his grasp. I batted my eyelashes, ignoring the way my body burned. “Or I’ll cut your balls off. Capisce?”
Now that was Italian, I was certain of it. God, where did that Godfather voice come from? All I had left to do was scratch my chin and I’d be a shoo-in for the role.
A spark of surprise and a touch of amusement lit in his dark gaze.
Not waiting for his comeback, I turned on my heel and rushed out of there like the entire mafia was on my heel. Probably was.
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Read the First Chapter HERE!
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Eva Winners released her first novel Second Chance At Love in 2020 and has been writing vigorously ever since. She writes about everlasting romance for every century focusing on characters emotional development and always guarantees an HEA.
She loves yoga, wine and her kiddos. In her spare time, she seeks adventures either hiking through trails or exploring the beaches.
Writing books has always been her passion and she brings real life to the forefront in everything she writes about.
Deeply passionate characters and stories will draw you in and you'll never want to leave.
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