Pacer Fratelli is dark, hard and completely consumed by his new defence lawyer. Chelsea and Pacer’s worlds couldn’t be further apart but he wants more … and what Pacer wants, Pacer gets.
When bad love feels so good, just how far would you go to defend it?
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Excerpt
Those damn leather gloves, I blame them.
I run my fingers through my hair to blow out at the wet strands that have stuck around my lips, and I grab my glass and gulp the remainder of my week old wine, before flopping back against the couch to collect my thoughts.
Seriously though, what the hell was that?
Pacer Fratelli is my client! A dangerous client. A client who I know is a murderer.
I can’t feel like this, but I do.
His smile flashes before my eyes again. Oh my god, would you just leave me the hell alone? I punch my fists down onto the chair, either side of me.
I strip down as I head to the shower, peeling off each layer like I’m shedding skin and discarding the clothes on the floor with an angry slap. My body is still abuzz with my post-assault, but at the same time, I am pissed off. These thoughts have no place in my mind. They can fuck right off.
A after a good talking to myself in the stream of the cold shower, I throw on my old university sweats, ready to see my night out in front of the coffee table … and all things Pacer Fratelli.
Dangerously hot, Pacer Fratelli.
Gah!
I run my fingers through my hair to blow out at the wet strands that have stuck around my lips, and I grab my glass and gulp the remainder of my week old wine, before flopping back against the couch to collect my thoughts.
Seriously though, what the hell was that?
Pacer Fratelli is my client! A dangerous client. A client who I know is a murderer.
I can’t feel like this, but I do.
His smile flashes before my eyes again. Oh my god, would you just leave me the hell alone? I punch my fists down onto the chair, either side of me.
I strip down as I head to the shower, peeling off each layer like I’m shedding skin and discarding the clothes on the floor with an angry slap. My body is still abuzz with my post-assault, but at the same time, I am pissed off. These thoughts have no place in my mind. They can fuck right off.
A after a good talking to myself in the stream of the cold shower, I throw on my old university sweats, ready to see my night out in front of the coffee table … and all things Pacer Fratelli.
Dangerously hot, Pacer Fratelli.
Gah!
Author Bio
TJ is a former cop, turned writer who uses her first-hand experience of working the city streets of inner city Sydney, to now write sexy stories of mystery and intrigue. Her head has been buried in crime since studying criminology at university over a decade ago, and she just can’t seem to shake her fascination with the macabre. TJ now lives a quiet life in the tropics with her handsome husband and kids where she writes a weekly column for her local newspaper, and spends her days re-living the action packed life she may have once had through her strong fictional characters.
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