Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, something extraordinary comes along that knocks you on your ass…
“Wolf” I’m a simple man with simple values. You either love me or you hate me, but the ones who need me, always got me. I’m the self-proclaimed Wolf of the Satan’s Knights MC, the beast who will fight his way out of any dark alley to defend your honor. The brother you call upon when you’ve lost your faith in humanity. However, secrets and lies are the cancer of a man’s soul. Exposed, they will eat away all that is good and leave nothing but destruction in their wake. They’ll prove the best intentions sometimes fail and leave you questioning your life’s choices. Now, searching for a purpose, I find myself facing the ride of my existence with a woman just as jaded as me. As she fights the biggest battle of her life, I want to be the man who stands by her side. The man who ain’t afraid to ride the edge of misery because he knows there is something beautiful on the other side…
“Maria” I’ve prevailed against the mob, a deadbeat ex-husband and the woes of being a single mother. While someone else may have wished for a different life, I believe I’m stronger for everything I’ve endured. I’m someone who speaks her mind and fights for what is right. A woman who will smack you upside the head with a frying pan and ask questions later. Terrified of love, I’m an otherwise fearless woman. Until a doctor solemnly diagnoses me and my strength falters. Now as fear engulfs me, an unexpected man dressed in leather, holds out his hand. As a woman who never needed anyone, I suddenly need him. His assurance. His strength. His love.
***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***
#RidingtheEdge
MEET AND GREET!
Come meet Author, Janine Infante Bosco and models, Darrin James Dedmon (“Wolf”) and Michelle Lynn McLeod (“Maria”) “Tempted & Tantalizing Author Event” in Staten Island, New York this October!
Click the red button for more information!
Click the blue button below to purchase the exclusive Ride Or Die: A #TNTNYC18 Collaboration!
#WeGetOneLife
DON’T MISS THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE #SATANSKNIGHTSMC SERIES!
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
Sometimes we must let go of what was, appreciate what remains and fearlessly embrace what comes next.
Sebastian “Bas”
Born to a family of outlaws, I was destined to ride with the Satan’s Knights MC. With mayhem and havoc in my blood and chaos living deep in my soul, I learned the Devil don’t sleep. You never hear him creeping and he often comes disguised as everything you ever wanted.
I was just teenager when she first showed, masquerading as the girl of my dreams. A whiskey shootin’ spitfire who knocked me on my ass and helped me turn the town upside down. The girl who stole my heart with her smile and never gave it back. The same bitch who ruined me and turned my blood to ice.
It’s been six years since I turned my back on Mac, my family and my club. I’ve pushed her to the back of my head, wrote everyone off and damned the Kentucky charter to hell. But, where God built a church, the Devil built a chapel. Now, her life is on the line and it’s clear I’m still a sucker for her gorgeous chaos because I’m the one riding to her rescue.
Mackenzie “Mac”
I often dreamed of what it would be like to stare into Bas’ blue eyes again. To hear his raspy voice whisper his love for me and feel his strong arms around me. After all, it’s always been in his embrace that I felt the safest. In my dreams, he abolishes my sins and forgives me for breaking both our hearts. But this is no dream. I’m running from a nightmare and the one running with me, looks at me with enough anger to burn the world to ash. Once upon a time, we were in love. Once upon a time, it was us against the world. Once upon a time, he didn’t look at me and see the Devil. If only he knew the truth. If only he knew the Devil was a broken angel with tattered wings. An angel who sacrificed her heart and soul for him.
***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***
Nothing will scare the shit out of a man more than waking up and feeling a pair of eyes drilling a hole in the side of his head. Especially, when you’ve been trying your hardest to sleep with one eye open because there’s a mark out for your girl and her kid.
Bolting up, I rub the sleep from my eyes and stare back at Ryder.
“Buddy, what are you doing?”
Crossing his little arms against his chest, he glances next to me at his sleeping mother. Thank fucking Christ she’s covered. The last thing I need to explain is why his mother is naked in the bed with me, his uncle.
How’s that for a family tree?
“Why are you in my mom’s bed?”
Dragging the sheet up to my waist with one hand, I reach behind me and cup the back of my neck with the other.
“Well, that’s actually a funny story…”
It’s not funny at all.
Not even a little bit.
But telling Ryder his mother and I fucked like rabbits after she rubbed her pussy all over me and woke me up, really isn’t an option.
“How about I tell you over breakfast?” I suggest.
“Pancakes?”
I have no fucking idea how to make pancakes.
“How’s about a bowl of cereal?”
“Okay,” he says, uncrossing his arms. He doesn’t move and suddenly, I’m intimidated by the little boy wearing SpongeBob pajamas and a scowl on his face. When did that happen?
The day you decided you wanted to be enough of a man to make him a better one.
“All right then,” I say offering him a smile as I look towards the door. “Why don’t you get a head start?”
I’ll buy you a puppy…hell, I’ll buy you the whole damn litter if you just let me grab my shorts, kid.
Debating, he glances at his mom again.
“Should we wake mommy?”
“Fuck, no…eh, I mean….” my words trail as I swipe a hand over my face. “Let’s let her sleep.”
“Okay, we can surprise her with breakfast in bed.”
Yeah, sure, if you want to get a peep show.
“Sounds like a plan.”
He takes another minute before he finally exits the room. I wait until I hear his footsteps on the stairs before, I lose the sheet and dig a pair of sweats out of one of my six bags of clothes. As luck would have it the day I decide to move my shit in here, Ryder catches me in bed with his mom the next morning. I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this one. Mac and I haven’t talked about telling Ryder about us and we’ve been cautious around him. I’m not sure why. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are they.
Making my way to the door, I pause and look back at Mac.
A man can get used to that.
He can die happy.
“Uncle Bas!”
Pulling the door closed behind me, I head downstairs and enter the kitchen to find Ryder trying to clean spilled milk off the floor.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry!”
Lifting his head, he meets my eyes and I can tell he’s struggling to hold back tears. That fucking does something to me. It breaks my heart is what it does.
“It was an accident,” he cries. He tears his eyes away from me and I watch his hands fumble as he pulls the paper towels off the roll.
“Ryder,” I rasp, crouching down beside him. Gently, I take the towels from his hand and place a finger under his chin, forcing his eyes back to mine. “It’s okay.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No,” I say hoarsely. “It’s just spilled milk, Ryder,” I add as I wipe his tears with my thumbs.
“My dad would’ve been mad.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I control the anger simmering in my veins.
“I’m not him, Ryder,” I say with conviction. “You never have to be afraid of me.” His blue eyes search mine and I pray he’s inherited his mother’s knack for reading me because they’re saying all the things I don’t know how to.
I love you.
I’ll jump off a cliff for you.
Run through fire for you.
I’ll kill for you.
Bleed and die for you.
Swallowing, I smooth down his hair and lean forward, kissing the top of his head.
“Let’s get this cleaned up and get started on making you and your mom breakfast.”
“We don’t have that much milk,” he says.
How fucking hard can it be to make pancakes?
“I thought you wanted pancakes,” I reply with a wink. His eyes light up and the smile he gives me is worth every bit of heartache that brought him into this world. I get it now. I understand what Mac meant when she said he was too precious to be labeled anything less than a blessing.
“Uncle Bas, I know you said I don’t have to be afraid of you but…”
“You don’t,” I assure him. “I would never hurt you. Never.”
“Does that mean you won’t hurt my mom either?”
Jesus.
It might not be my place, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s time Ryder, and I had a talk.
Man to little man.
Rising to my feet, I hold out my hand for him.
“C ’mere,” I tell him.
He places his little hand in mine and I pull him to his feet before leading him to the kitchen table. Sitting across from one another, we stare at each other. I’m not sure if he’s looking at me with curiosity or if he’s sizing me up trying to decide if I’m the guy good enough for his mom.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking,” I suggest. “And remember, anything you ask me won’t make me angry.”
“Okay,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to hurt my mom. She smiles a lot and I like it.”
“She has a great smile,” I agree.
He nods.
“The best,” he whispers. Then as if a light bulb has gone off in his head, he looks at me with wide eyes. “If I promise not to be afraid will you promise not to take her smile away?”
“Ryder, I want you to pay close attention to what I’m going to tell you, can you do that for me?” I ask him as I lean over the table and level my eyes to his.
“I’ll try my hardest.”
“Fair enough,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Ain’t no one in this world going to take your mom’s smile away ever again nor will anyone hurt either of you. As long as I’m alive, you and your mom will always be safe and if I have a say in the matter, the both of you will keep sharing your smiles with me.”
“Does that mean you love her?”
“I’ve loved your mom for a really long time. What it means is I finally get a chance to prove to her and to you just how much I love you both.”
I let my words sink in for a minute before continuing.
“When a man loves a woman, he isn’t afraid of expressing it and his actions sometimes speak louder than his words. One day you’re going to be a man and you’re going to find a girl who knocks you off your feet. You won’t see her coming, you’ll ask yourself why she chose you and you’ll pray you never lose her. It’ll be the most exciting time of your life and the scariest too. You might make mistakes, but they’ll never be intentional because you’re going to think back to this conversation and remember how you wanted me to treat your mom.”
“I want you to be nice to her,” he whispers.
“I want you to be humble and kind,” I counter.
“Take her nice places,” he continues.
“Always hold the door for her,” I say.
“Tell her it’s going to be okay when she’s sad,” he adds.
“Do your best to never make her sad,” I counter.
“Make her smile,” he whispers.
“Cherish every smile she gives you,” I reply.
“Love her,” he pleads.
“Love her,” I agree.
A beat of silences passes between us before I hold out my hand.
“A man’s handshake is his word. It’s his promise,” I explain, tipping my chin to my hand, urging him to take it. Lifting his hand, he slides it into mine and he gives it a firm shake, sealing our promise to one another.
For him to grow up and be a good man.
For me to set the example by loving his mother.
#BringTheBas
MEET AND GREET
Come meet Author, Janine Infante Bosco and model, Joe Adams at the “Tempted & Tantalizing Author Event” in Staten Island, New York this October!
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
by Janine Infante Bosco Nomad #3 Publication Date: June 13, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense, Can be read as a standalone
Deuce: The first moment I stared into Ally’s tortured blue eyes, my subconscious knew I’d never escape her. She called to the darkest part of my soul and made it impossible to ignore the strange pull I felt towards her. Some things are just meant to be. As long as we were both breathing, my heart would do time with hers. Like the famous outlaw lovers, Bonnie and Clyde, Ally and I committed the perfect crime. I claimed her heart, and she stole mine. I only meant to save her. To heal her. Now, my past threatens to ruin her. Wanted dead or alive, I’ve got her by my side and together we’ll ride.
Ally: I thought the world forgot me. That I had died at fourteen. But, I never knew life until I knew him. Rescued and healed, I found love in the face of an outlaw. Whether he fails or flies, I’ll ride until I die. I’m his Bonnie and he’s my Clyde. A love as strong as ours will never die.
***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. This book deals with sensitive subjects, such as kidnapping and human trafficking. Please be aware of these triggers and keep them in mind while reading. Through the sensitive subjects, the storm passes and the sky clears….there is a happily ever after waiting on the other side. ***
#BeautifulFire
EXCERPT – “THE FIRST KISS”
Admitting I haven’t tried Sushi makes me realize there are plenty of things I missed out on experiencing. That’s not saying I would have necessarily wanted to try different things or even liked them once I had, but I never got the chance to make those choices or decisions.
Aside from different foods, I missed out on a bunch of firsts too.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as he stares at me. “If you don’t want Sushi we get something else…”
I shake my head.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just realized I’m twenty-six years old and not only are there so many things I probably haven’t tried but there are things I never got the chance to experience. Things I pushed out of my head because I told myself there was no point in dwelling on it. Now that I’m free, it feels wrong, if that makes any sense. I mean I know I lost twelve years and everyone keeps saying I’ve got a second chance to make a life for myself, but all those things I missed…I can’t get that back. I can’t replace all the miserable moments with what should’ve been. I guess what I’m trying to say is…I can’t trade my painful firsts for the firsts I dreamed I’d have.”
“Says who?”
My brows knit in confusion and I blink as he turns fully, propping his leg on my bed.
“Name one first you wish you could change.”
“Why? You can’t change them.”
“Maybe not all of them,” he says with a shrug. “But if we can manage to change a few that should count for something.”
Biting down on my lip, I think about his suggestion.
“My first kiss is something I wish I could change,” I say honestly, lifting my head to meet his expressionless face. “Papa,” I mutter, cringing as I say the name. “That’s what he made me call him,” I explain, watching Deuce’s jaw go rigid.
“Rush?”
I shake my head.
“Yankovich,” he growls.
For as long as he kept me, I never knew his real name. Hearing it now sends chills down my spine as I recall the first time I was kissed and how Yankovich’s lips felt against mine.
“It was rough and not in a good way,” I confess. “It wasn’t done in a way to make me feel desired but in a way where I was scared of what would happen if I didn’t oblige. So, I kissed him back and hated myself afterward.”
Muttering a curse, Deuce runs his fingers roughly through his hair before turning back to me.
“Close your eyes,” he directs.
“What for?”
“I won’t hurt you,” he promises, evading my question. A foreign feeling erupts inside of me, one I can’t quite place and I find myself closing my eyes, not because he ordered me to but because I trust he won’t hurt me.
Seconds tick by before I hear Deuce’s exasperated breath. Then I feel the mattress dip and as I continue to keep my eyes closed I subconsciously lean forward. His hands lift to my cheeks and the next breath he releases brushes gently over my lips.
Then it happens.
Deuce lays his mouth over mine.
For a moment neither of us move as our lips stay locked on one another. Slowly, he then moves his mouth, taking my lower lip between his and giving it a gentle tug. Sucking softly, he parts my lips and a small gasp spills from my mouth into his.
My heart pounds against my chest as he applies more pressure, making our kiss rougher in all the right ways. I’m not scared or trying to drift away. I’m right there with him, flying high on sensation and adrenaline. His tongue touches my lips, prying them open. Following his lead, I part my lips. He pushes his tongue into my waiting mouth and glides it over mine, tasting me—teaching me that some firsts can be rewritten.
Pulling back slightly he pecks my lips once more and I open my eyes. Keeping his eyes fixed to mine, he licks his lips and drops his hands from my face.
“There you go,” he rasps, as if what just happened didn’t shake the ground beneath us. Unsure what to say, I lift my fingers to my lips and watch as he leans his elbows on his knees. Silently, he stares into space before he slowly turns to me. His eyes immediately dart toward my mouth but quickly lift to my eyes and I wonder if he liked it as much as I did.
“You still got those matches I gave you?” he asks suddenly.
Biting my lip, I stare at him for a moment then lift my hips and reach into my pocket. Pulling out the book of matches my cheeks flush and I turn my palm over to display them. His lips quirk slightly as he slaps his hands against his thighs and rises to his feet.
“Let’s go,” he says, reaching for the hoodie I draped across the back of a chair. “Is this all you took from Reina?” he asks, tossing it onto the bed and crossing his arms as he leans against the wall.
I didn’t know I wasn’t going back there,” I reply, taking the hoodie from the bed. “Wait, where are we going?”
“To get food.”
“Raw food?” I question, slipping my arms through the hoodie before getting up from the bed. “No way.”
“Won’t know if you like it unless you try it,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow “Gotta strike the match, girl,” he adds, tipping his chin toward the book of matches I’m still holding.
“Are you daring me?”
“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. “You accepting?”
Licking my lips, I shove the matches back into my pocket and take a deep breath. If trying Sushi is anything like my new first kiss, then joining the land of the living might not be so bad. It might be scary but it’s a leap I’ve got to take.
“Under one condition,” I say, stepping closer to him. Continuing to lean against the wall, he raises an eyebrow as amusement flickers in his eye.
“You have to get me ice cream too.”
“You like ice cream?”
“We’re going to find out,” I tell him as I brush past him and walk into his room.
Grabbing the keys off the table, he follows me toward the door and reaches around me to open it.
“With manners like that it’s a wonder your room is a mess,” I tease as I walk outside.
“My room isn’t a mess…it’s lived in,” he argues, slamming the door shut behind him.
“I don’t have to wonder if you wear boxers or briefs,” I call over my shoulder as we head toward Wolf’s truck. “However, I’m not going to lie, I’m a little disappointed.”
“Yeah, why’s that?”
Pulling open the door, I climb inside and turn to him.
“I took you for a commando type of guy,” I tell him before shutting the door. Standing in front of the car, he braces one hand on the hood and peers at me through the windshield with a dumbfound expression on his face.
Something amazing happens then.
Something genuine and natural.
Something so unfamiliar to me but common to others.
I smile.
Then he smiles too and I decide Deuce has a great smile, one that if you stare at it long enough it can become an addiction. Isn’t that funny? I never knew a person could crave something so simple like someone else’s smile. I wonder if too much of someone’s smile can be bad for another person. I’d like to think not but what do I know—I’m the girl who never thought she’d smile again.
“Looks good on you,” he comments as he slides into the truck.
“What does?”
“A smile.”
“Yours isn’t so bad either,” I point out, realizing I’m still smiling. His lips quirk again as he pulls out of the lot and I find myself staring at him while he drives. The first time I saw Deuce, I didn’t think much about him. I don’t know if it was the drugs or something else, but at the time he was just another person. When you’ve spent most of your life surrounded by animals, you don’t take notice of people. They all look the same. They all act the same. You’ll expect them to hurt you and take from you. You give up hope that there are still people worth knowing. You give up on the good folks and lump everyone into one category.
In the days since I was rescued I’ve been noticing things. I’ve been noticing people, and right now I’m noticing Deuce. I’m noticing there is a twang hidden underneath that raspy voice and every now and then it becomes more prominent.
“Where are you from?”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Caught that, huh?”
“Were you trying to hide it because you’re not very good at it,” I reply.
“Texas.”
Not expecting that response, my eyes widen at the admission but I quickly recover.
“Is it true everything is bigger in Texas?”
Another quirk of the lips.
Yeah, I was addicted.
“I’m not touching that one,” he quips.
Realizing the innuendo, I slap his arm and attempt to call him a jerk but I get distracted by the size of it.
Things are huge in Texas.
#DeuceIsLoose
OTHER BOOKS IN THE NOMAD SERIES….
#SALEALERT – The first book in The Nomad Series is .99c for a limited time! Drifter – A Nomad Series Novel by Janine Infante Bosco
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
by Janine Infante Bosco Nomad #2 Publication Date: March 7, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense
COVER CREDITS
Cover Designer: JB’s Cover Obsession Design
Model: Marshall Perrin
Photographer: Wander Pedro Aguiar
PREORDER your copy of WANDERER NOW!
SYNOPSIS: Cobra
I’ve lived two lives.
One full of innocence and one full of sin.
I mourned the perfect life I was born into and made it my duty to chase the phantom who stole it from me.
Revenge, mayhem and loss are all I know.
I am the lone man—I am the wanderer.
The former nomad—now, Satan’s deadliest soldier.
The two worlds were never supposed to collide. Innocence and sin aren’t made to coexist yet somehow my past bleeds into the present and I find myself facing my biggest regret…I find myself face to face with her—the girl who got away.
The girl I let go.
The woman I’ll ruin if I stay.
Celeste
Our young love was marred by violence.
Our guilt destroyed us, fate tempted us but, it was he who broke us.
They say time heals all, but all time did was dull the ache of his abandonment.
Now, dressed in leather, covered in ink the boy I mourned is now a man—a man tormented by his demons.
In another life we were everything to one another.
In this life we’re strangers.
#WANDERER
Wanderer Excerpt
Prologue
Present Day
As a boy, I identified desperation as a narcotic, something toxic that defined a man as weak. It was the sense of hopelessness I saw in my old man’s eyes every time the cops knocked on our front door. It robbed him of his ability to think straight and made him crave vengeance.
For my father, desperation was his confirmed resignation on life.
As a man, my views have changed and I now identify desperation as an act of war. The fundamentals of war are someone wins and someone dies trying but it is the cause, not the death that makes the martyr.
My cause is simple.
It’s driven by the ice in my veins.
Fueled by the blood in my eyes.
Sparked by the hate in my soul.
My cause is retribution.
I’ve been grooming myself for this battle since I was fourteen years old, since Vladimir Yankovich first took my sister. Back then, he didn’t have a face, nor did he have a name and by the time I discovered who was responsible for the tragedy that claimed our lives, the Russian cocksucker had already taken more from me by brutally killing my parents.
I became familiar with desperation and morphed into the same hopeless man my father used to be. I wandered alone, hunting a faceless stranger for years, adding to my list of immoralities but never got my due vengeance.
I gave up before I signed away on my confirmed resignation too. Resolving that all the sins I committed chasing the Devil would eventually catch up with me. Life only lets you get away with inflicting evil for so long. Sooner or later we all pay the price and when you get the bill, you better be prepared to pay.
Today I got the bill and I’m paying for my sins but I’m not the only one—she’s paying too.
With the heart of an angel and a soul so pure, I was sure she was sent from Heaven.
So sweet.
So innocent.
She brought light into my life and I knew the moment I laid eyes on her I would never love anyone the way I love her.
He knew too.
Now, he’s taken from me again and I’ve become the man I feared being.
I’ve become my father.
And desperation has claimed me because I won’t let history repeat itself again. I won’t let Yankovich take from me and live to tell.
Not this time.
Not ever again.
This is war and there is only one victor.
All men have fears but the ones that are brave, place their fears down and go forward. Sometimes death is the only victory allowed. Lucky for me, I’ve never been afraid of dying. I used to think I’d die for my club, that the patch on my back was worth the sacrifice, but it’s that patch that’s led Satan to my doorstep.
It’s the stitching that reads Brooklyn that has made my angel become Yankovich’s next target.
Stripping the worn cut from my shoulders, I toss it to the ground as my boots pound the pavement and I run through the shipping yard. Alone, defying my brotherhood, chasing retribution I spot the boat anchored at the end of the pier.
My father’s voice rings in my ears, reminding me to listen to my gut, schooling me on intuition.
Intuition knows the game and has your best interest at heart.
What my father should’ve taught me is retribution and bad decisions go hand in hand. He should’ve taught me not to be reckless because one reckless mistake is about to cost me the sweetest, the purest love I’ve ever known.
One mistake can cost me her.
The distinct rumble and roar of straight pipes echoes behind me and I know the men I once called my brothers have arrived and their duty isn’t to save me but to kill me.
They can try but, they gotta catch me to kill me.
Rounding the dock, I see Yankovich’s men running towards the boat. Without hesitation, I take my father’s advice and follow my gut, dragging the strap of my automatic shotgun around my shoulders. I lift the gun, wrap my finger around the trigger and ignore the voices behind me.
“Cobra, stand down!” Riggs shouts from behind me.
“Get back!” Blackie demands.
Fuck them.
I continue taking long strides along the wooden dock, closing in on my mark—deciding execution style is the way I’m going to deliver them to Hell but I’m too slow. They spin around, draw their weapons and unleash their bullets in my direction.
Shot after shot.
Clip after clip.
Bang! Bang!
Gun powder fills the air, mixing with the dense fog, making it impossible to see my targets or the bullets headed straight for me or the ones whizzing through the air from behind me.
Blindly, I fire back, keeping my finger on the trigger as I have a showdown with death. Voices shout around me in both a native and foreign tongue. In front of me, my last rites are given to me in Russian. Behind me, orders of war are declared.
“Riggs, press the fucking button,” Blackie bellows.
“Cobra, get down!” Riggs shouts.
“Do it now!” Blackie commands.
“No,” I scream at the top of my lungs as I drop my gun.
Spreading my arms wide, I close my eyes and offer myself to both sides of the fence, praying they take me and spare her.
A million smiles flash before my eyes.
Every single one I’ve tallied through the years.
All belong to Celeste except for the final one.
It’s the smile of an innocent child.
Big blue eyes, pure and full of wonder, stare back at me asking me—pleading with me to rescue her from the ugly world.
Save me, daddy.
It’s her face I’ll die remembering…the beautiful face of my daughter.
Helpless, spent and defeated, I drop to my knees as the blast reverberates through me and the sky lights in hues of orange and red.
I open my mouth to scream but the voice I hear isn’t my own.
“NO!”
“Get back, Celeste!” Blackie barks.
I close my eyes.
“JAGGER!”
Bullets tear through my skin.
Blood pours from my wounds.
But I don’t feel a thing.
Numbly, I open my eyes and stare down the dock into the flames of Hell.
Once the wanderer, I am now the martyr.
#WANDERINTOCHAOS
ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
Synopsis: You’ve seen them through their most illicit temptations.
Guided them through their forbidden temptations.
Stuck with them through their uncontrollable temptations.
Owned their reckless temptations.
And survived their lethal temptations.
Five couples.
One threat.
Who will survive the eternal temptation?
Just when the men of the Pastore crime family and the brothers of the Satan’s Knights MC, think they can rest easy—a danger no one saw coming threatens to destroy everyone’s perfect life.
The men of the mob are resurrected and the boys in leather are back.
It’s time for one final ride.
And for you to ask yourself one last time…
Are you tempted?
NOTE: This is the final book in the Tempted series. Eternal Temptations can be read as a stand alone novel.
#THELASTHIT
#AMERICASNEXTGANGSTER
EXCERPT: Grace & Victor
Grace’s POV
It was the early eighties, Maryann and I were barely legal but that didn’t stop us from painting the town red. I had a part-time job at Rosalie’s bakery, making just enough money to spend my paycheck—that’s a lie. I never received a paycheck, those days we were paid in cash, sixty dollars stuffed in a white envelope that Rosalie scribbled my name on. It was enough cash for me to buy a brand new outfit every Friday. I would take my envelope, cross three avenues and make my way to Something Else boutique on 86th Street.
I teased my hair six inches to the sky, applied enough blue eyeshadow to my eyelids, you had no choice but to notice my almond shaped eyes. Lastly, I ripped the tags and put on my silk turquoise jumpsuit. Maryann stole her father’s car out of the garage and picked me up at exactly ten o’clock. Studio 54 was packed, the line to get inside the club wrapped around the block but Maryann grabbed my hand and walked us straight to the front of the line.
“I’m a friend of Val’s,” she told the bouncer guarding the door.
At the time, I only knew Val as one of the neighborhood guys. He, like most of the guys our age living in Bensonhurst, hung around with the old-timers, the made-men, goodfellas—you know the type of men I’m talking about. Gangsters.
I didn’t know if Val was in fact a made man or part of a family, I just knew one day he would be and I understood why Maryann had taken a liking toward him. Who didn’t find that type of man sexy? There was nothing more attractive than the unattainable bad boy who exuded charisma.
The bouncer lifted the red velvet rope and escorted us into the pulsating night club. I remember the song playing as I stepped foot onto the colorful dance floor that lit up as the patrons danced the night away, ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ by the Bee Gees. It was one of my favorites and I wanted to dance so badly but Maryann had other plans, taking my hand as she dragged me across the dance floor to the bar where Val stood. He was surrounded by a bunch of guys, some I knew and others were a mystery. A delicious mystery.
“Order us a couple of Long Island Iced Teas and I’ll be right back,” she shouted over the music.
I sat down at the bar and ordered the drinks, glancing across the bar as she worked her way into the circle and straight to Val. The bartender placed the two drinks in front of me and I waited five minutes before I pulled the little paper umbrella from the glass and lifted the straw to my lips.
I averted my eyes back to the other end of the bar and noticed Maryann and Val had disappeared from the crowd.
“Those things are lethal,” a voice said from behind me, forcing me to spin around on the bar stool and stare at the most handsome man I ever laid eyes on.
The first thing I noticed was his clothes. He wasn’t dressed like the other men. His charcoal gray suit looked as if it was tailor made for him. He opted to wear a black turtleneck under the suit, no button down, collar popping shirt for the handsome stranger before me. He did however engage in the fad of gold chains. My eyes zeroed in on the crucifix dangling from the thick, gold rope chain hanging around his neck. I lifted my eyes to his face and was greeted by a smile I’d never forget.
His eyes drifted toward the two drinks that sat in front of me to the empty stool beside me.
“May I?”
“Sure,” I said, twirling back around to face the bar as he slipped onto the stool and signaled for the bartender.
He ordered a Martini, dry with extra olives as I toyed with the paper umbrella and brought my drink to my lips for another sip. The song changed, Tavares filtered the nightclub with their hit, ‘More Than a Woman’.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” He asked, casually draping an arm over the back of my stool.
“Grace,” I said, mesmerized by the way he stared so intently at me.
“Grace,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue, grinning once he decided he liked the way it sounded.
“And who are you?” I stammered, taking another sip, hoping to calm my nerves. This man had the power to undo me with a simple glance.
“Me? I’m the man who’s going to marry you one day,” he said pointedly.
I nearly spat my drink out.
“That’s pretty presumptuous don’t you think?” Or cocky depending on who you ask, I added silently.
He grinned at me as he lifted his hand and ran his index finger down my cheek.
“Watch and see, Gracie,” he promised, dropping his hand but keeping his gaze locked on me. “The name is Victor, Victor Pastore.”
It is so easy to forget those first blissful moments when you meet the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with. Instead, we harbor the resentment life has brought upon us and lose touch of the magic that brought two unsuspecting strangers together.
Sitting across from the man I love for the final time I wonder how I ever let myself become so jaded by the trials and tribulations we stumbled upon in our years together. Why did I let the heartache trump the happiness? Why couldn’t I hang on to all the times he made me smile, all the times I looked into his eyes and knew I was his one and only. Why wasn’t the love we created enough to outweigh the torment of the mob?
#FOREVERTEMPTED
#ETERNALTEMPTATIONS BOOK VIDEO
ARE YOU READY TO #GETTEMPTED?
Author Janine Infante Bosco & model Nick Bennett will be signing at Tempted and Tantalizing in Staten Island Author Event. Tickets on sale now!
#LEATHERANDLACE
EXCERPT: Blackie & Lacey
Blackie POV
I don’t tell her I’ll be on the road for the next three days, instead I pretend like everything is fine and I’m not about to declare war on the Corrupt Bastards. Ignorance is bliss and for tonight all I want to be is blissfully buried inside Lacey, drowning in the sweetness she possesses.
Holding her hand as the needle pricked her skin and marked her flesh provided the perfect distraction for a while but now we’re home and the only thing I want distracting me is her body. I watch her unzip the hoodie she’s wearing, glancing over her shoulder as she lowers it down her shoulders and checks to see if the gauze is still taped to her back, covering her new tattoo.
She’s not trying to be seductive but every fucking move she makes has me hard and craving her. Poor girl, I will demolish her tonight so that when I’m on the road, the ache in between her thighs keeps her company, reminding her I’m never too far from her.
She turns around and peers at me from under her eyelashes, slowly reaching behind her to unclasp her bra as I lean against the wall and drink in the show she’s about to treat me to.
“Go on, girl,” I urge, crossing my arms against my chest as I bite the inside of my cheek and watch the straps slide down her arms and expose her to my hungry eyes.
Her thumbs slide into the waistband of her pants, dragging them down her legs before she steps out of them.
“No panties?”
“Not tonight,” she says, reaching behind her to pull her hair out of the clip. Her back arches and her perky tits salute me. “Give me your phone,” she says, shaking out her long hair so it falls down her back and over her shoulders.
Fucking gorgeous.
Curiously, I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and hand it to her, watching as she pushes her breasts together and snaps a photo of herself. Bending over, she angles her phone and snaps another photo of her heart-shaped ass.
“Damn, girl,” I groan.
She straightens up, eyes on me as she takes two steps closer and spreads her legs. Holding the phone with both hands she lowers it so the lens is level with her pussy and snaps another picture.
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she teases as she tosses the phone back, clarifying I’m not the only one leaving reminders behind.
I catch the phone, place it down on dresser before closing the distance between us. With one hand I reach behind me, my ribs are still bruised but I don’t react to the twinge pulling across my midsection as I pull my shirt over my head.
“You want something in return, girl?”
“Depends what you’re offering,” she says coyly, placing both hands on her bare hips as she winks at me.
I don’t offer anything instead I drop to my knees and take what I want and give her what I know she needs, placing my open mouth over the lips of her pussy and pushing my tongue between them. Her hands fall from her hips to my shoulders and her nails dig into my skin as my tongue lavishly strokes her.
Starving.
Insatiable.
I feed off her, lapping at her clit, sucking on it until her hands are in my hair, pulling it begging me to take her over the edge.
Not yet.
Girl needs to squirm a little. That’s right, grind on me girl.
“Blackie–,” she shrieks as I slip two fingers insider her.
“Give it to me, girl,” I grunt against her pussy, pumping my fingers to the same beat my tongue is playing.
Give me something to dream of when I’m off the grid.
Give me something to remember in case I break my promise to you and can’t come back.
I feel her tighten around my fingers, hear her cry out in ecstasy as I continue to selfishly take my memory from her, ingraining it to my mind, body and soul as she loses control over my mouth. Her body goes lax after the tremors subside and I slowly pull my mouth away from her. I lift my eyes to hers and lick my lips, savoring the taste to my palette.
“Fuck, Blackie,” she says breathless, dropping to her knees as she takes my face with her hands. Leaning forward, her tongue sneaks out tasting what’s left behind of her on my mouth.
“You like that don’t you? That’s all you, girl,” I speak against her mouth. Taking hold of her face I pull back and stare into her dark eyes only they’re not dark with demons but dark with lust.
On our knees, arms wrapped around one another, mouths fused together the both of us wish tomorrow never comes.
But it does.
And I kiss Lacey goodbye, promise to come back to her and pray that I do.
I love you, girl.
#THEFINALRIDE
#BETEMPTED AND READ WHERE IT ALL STARTED WITH THE FIRST 5 BOOKS IN THE #TEMPTED SERIES!
ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
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