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ALESSIO by Bethany-Kris – Blog Tour

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ALESSIO

by Bethany-Kris
Guzzi Legacy Duet, #2
Publication Date: August 5, 2019
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime. Erotic Romance, MMF

ALESSIO cover

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ALESSIO teaser 1

SYNOPSIS

The son of a prominent Cosa Nostra Don, Corrado Guzzi’s life should have been all mapped out. He would be what every other Guzzi man was, too—made, mafia. It’s their way. But when given another choice, the chance to be something more, he takes it. Even if it comes with strings.

It’s there that he might find where he belongs, and Alessio Sorrento. The man who could change his whole life.

This love thing? It should have been easy, but they made it hard. Nothing about a relationship like theirs is simple. Dictated by rules, weighed down with things left unsaid, and already hanging by a frayed thread.

This is what love looks like before, and after.
Before she came along.
And after she was there.

It takes one woman to change everything.

Ginevra Calabrese wasn’t ready for this—for them.

So, what happens now?

*

NOTE: Corrado (book one) and Alessio (book two) are a duet within The Guzzi Legacy series, and should be read in order. All other titles in the series are standalone. This is NOT a love triangle.

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ALESSIO teaser 2

EXCERPT 

“A happy birthday,” Dare said. 

Alessio almost smiled, but pain was a fucking bitch. Twenty-three years old today, and he’d forgotten. Someone else had to remind him. Appropriate for it to be Dare. At the darkest points in his life, Dare always remembered his birthday for whatever reason. 

“Is it, though?” he asked. 

“What?” 

“A happy day.” 

Dare made a noise under his breath as Gian Guzzi came to sit next to Alessio in the wicker chair beside his. Corrado’s father said nothing, dressed in his night clothes with a black robe tightened at his middle, he stared over the back property, and rested his hand along his jaw as he waited for Alessio to finish his conversation. It was late for the man to still be awake. 

“Les.” 

“Ignore me,” he muttered. “Thinking out loud.” 

But also not a lie. 

This wasn’t a happy day. 

And tomorrow didn’t look good, either. 

Welcome to his life, lately. 

“Why don’t you take a break, come back here for a bit, and reset—” 

“That’s Alessio?” 

Cree

In the call’s background, Dare confirmed what Cree asked. A shuffle of the phone sounded before more movement echoed through the speakers. Alessio heard the slam of a door before Cree came onto the phone. 

“Where are you?” Cree demanded. 

Alessio arched a brow over at Gian. The man didn’t even glance his way. “Away.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Thinking.” 

Cree let out a harsh sound. “You don’t call people?” 

“I’m a grown man, I can—” 

“Tell the people who give a fuck that you’re safe, Les.” 

His throat jumped as he swallowed back a biting retort that would have only saved his pride but hurt someone else. “I’m safe.” 

A second passed. Cree sighed. “Good.” Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Corrado called two days ago looking for you. You should at least tell him where you are, Les. You don’t have to go back—I understand things are going on that hurt you, but he’s worried.” 

Good for him

Because he hadn’t given a shit about Alessio before. 

As fast as the seed of doubt drifted through his mind, the pain following behind just as fast, Alessio tipped his head down, and shook it away. It wasn’t true, and a huge part of why this happened was because Corrado hadn’t wanted to hurt him. 

Yet, here they stood. 

The same result. 

Alessio didn’t do well with pain, and especially not if someone he loved caused it. He had a handle on this shit—this thing between them. He assumed they were comfortable, but this had taught him he had been lying to himself. 

Complacent

It took nothing to be ruined. 

Nothing but a woman. 

“I’m not calling him,” Alessio said, “there’s nothing for me to say.” 

Hadn’t he said enough when he showed up to the penthouse over a week ago? He believed so. His words had cut with each one said—landing like knives against the man he loved to the ends of the earth and back. Alessio didn’t need Corrado to tell him how much he hurt him with the things he said. He was aware.

But that was good, too. 

Partly. 

Why should Alessio be the only one to hurt? 

He wouldn’t be alone. 

He needed to get his shit figured out before he went back for a second round. He didn’t want to keep cutting into Corrado. As much as he hurt, it wasn’t fair he continued hurting Corrado, too. 

Because he loved. 

He gave a shit. 

He would have never done this to Corrado. 

Ever. 

 

ALESSIO teaser 3

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Corrado cover

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Corrado front & back cover

EXCERPT

Ginevra wiped away the one tear that escaped the corner of her eye as the elevator came to a stop on the highest floor. It opened to the hallway leading to the penthouse. She took another quick, deep breath; she had her weak moment in private, and now it was done. 

Right? 

Yep. 

She decided. 

Soon—surely—she would be back home in New York with her sisters. Back where she belonged, and far away from a complicated man, and whatever mess he had dragged her into here. That’s what would happen. 

Ginevra unlocked the penthouse and opened the door to the dark entry. She couldn’t remember if Corrado had turned off the lights when they left, or not. Probably, though. Kicking off the heels and pulling down the wet straps of the dress around her arms, she tried to remember where the light switch was for the damn entry. 

Then, the lights came on. 

All at once. 

She spun around fast, letting go of the straps of her dress as she froze in place at the sight of a stranger leaning against the wall at the very end of the hallway. A man, actually. His shaggy, dark hair hung over his eyes, and yet even through the dark strands, she could still see the stormy blue eyeing her from the side. 

His lips, the lower fuller than the top, stayed affixed in a grim line as he chewed on something in his mouth—gum, maybe? Her gaze traveled over the golden hoops in his nose, his steel cut jaw line, and the few days’ worth of facial hair covering his cheeks and throat. Even under the leather jacket he wore, and the black jeans that molded to his thighs and ass, she could plainly see he was fit by the way the material of his white T-shirt stretched across the bands of muscle that made up his chest. 

He leaned against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his black, scuffed combat boots hooked one over the other, despite the fact she could clearly see the tension wrapping his body. Like he was forcing himself to stay right there, and not come any closer. 

My God

He was devastating

That was the first and only word to come to her mind. 

Devastating. 

A lot like Corrado, really. That first look at him had made her silent, and took away her breath, too. This was no different. 

Except she didn’t know this man, and why in the hell was he here? 

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice faint. 

The man smiled. 

Just a ghost of one, though. 

He lifted his head a bit, giving her a better view of the planes that made up his handsome face, and the war that raged in his stare. “Alessio Sorrento—I like Les, though.” 

Les

That text …

“But it ain’t about me, is it?” Alessio asked, his voice a deep bass that came off both edgy and dark. “Lately, it’s been all about you, Ginevra.” 

How did he know her name? 

She wondered … 

No one had said either way—man or woman, they didn’t say who the other person was for Corrado. She hadn’t assumed, but a part of her just figured it was a woman because that was the default. Not that she cared either way who someone loved or fucked behind closed doors. That was their business, and as long as people were happy, what did it matter? 

But now, staring at this man, and the way he looked at her like he was both curious, but he wished she would drop dead on the fucking spot, too, made her think … 

This was him. 

This man was Corrado’s … person. They were a them before Ginevra ever came into the picture, clearly. Those shoes with different sizes on the rack when she first arrived at the penthouse; the different style jackets, like they belonged to entirely different personalities; the offhanded remarks Corrado made without realizing it—and we use it, he’d said—and then ignored when she questioned him; or even his hesitations when he nearly slipped up like telling her the master bedroom was his, but he’d almost said something different. 

She knew now. 

It meant these two men had been a thing for a while. She was in the middle. He came before her. She understood what she had missed. 

It hurt worse because of it. 

“Yeah, it’s been all about you, huh?” Alessio smirked, adding lower, “And I’m here to find out why that is.” 

Corrado teaser

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

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New Release- Feast of Love by Ceri Grenelle

Feast of Love

by Ceri Grenelle
Croft Holiday Series
Publication Date: December 12, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, Menage, MMF, Romance

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Synopsis: Armie Croft just lost the last of his vision due to a degenerative disease, something that proves problematic as he bangs his head against the side of the JCA pool during a late night swim. Leighanne Misra, the nighttime lifeguard, jumps in to rescue him, followed by Mitch Karmi…who is wearing a suit and has no training when it comes to performing CPR. Soon after laughing at Mitch’s soaking wet clothes, and double checking to make sure Armie is alive and well, a steamy connection is forged between the three acquaintances.Mitch wants to hide their ménage from the public, much to Armie and Leighanne’s dismay, but he negotiates and asks they at least have the week leading up to the first night of Hanukkah to themselves. The three lovers are stronger together but sometimes you never truly appreciate what you have until you’ve lost it.

EXCERPT

Armie woke with the acute awareness that he was somewhere he’d never been before. The sounds were all wrong to be his apartment or sisters’ houses or even Dearborne’s back room where drunks sometimes slept the night off. No, this place sounded almost cavernous, the ambient noise bouncing off hard surfaces with nothing to absorb them. He stretched his hand to his right and came up against a soft surface. He was lying on a couch. That wasn’t ominous; that wasn’t a reason to start panicking. There was a blanket covering him; thick, felt like wool. Serial killers wouldn’t cover him with a woolen blanket, nor keep him unbound. A self-deprecating thought shamefully struck his mind, bringing on another familiar wave of helplessness.

“They would once they realized you were pretty much feeble,” he muttered.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Armie went for the voice swinging, but in his panic he forgot he was lying on a couch and rolled onto the floor. He landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him.

“Armie, Armie, it’s good. It’s Leighanne. You’re at Mitchell’s apartment.” She grabbed his hands, stilling his frantic and probably ridiculous-looking arm waving.

Leighanne, shit. He was okay. This was fine. Disgustingly embarrassing, but fine.

She rubbed his hands between hers, soothing and calming, bringing him back down to reality, explaining what had happened the night before. “You were drunk, and we were worried about you getting home on your own, so we brought you here.”

Right. He’d made a fool of himself at Dearborne’s as well. There was no way the old man wouldn’t call Ophi and Nettie about his antics now. The town was too nosy for its own damn good.

“I went to the bar to have a few beers¼”

“By a few, I think you mean nearly ten shots and five beers according to a text we got from Dearborne after bringing you here.” She stroked his cheek with her knuckles, the bones tripping over his stubble. “You’re a crafty drunk, ordering from different bartenders so they can’t tell how much you’re drinking till it’s too late.”

“Yeah, call me the master,” he mumbled. He felt for the couch’s edge and hauled himself up from the floor to sit. The cushion dipped next to him, and Leighanne’s spicy scent suffused his senses. He could only be grateful Mitch hadn’t seen his swan dive.

Armie rubbed his eyes. They were gritty. Even though he couldn’t use them, they still collected moisture overnight that crusted in the morning. Annoying, really. “Shit.” He didn’t say anything else, thoroughly self-conscious, even more so than he had been at the JCA. “I should go.” He looked up, hoping to be facing in her direction.

Armie remembered what it was like to speak to a blind person, back when he could still see. They didn’t look directly at him, slightly off centered sometimes. It had been odd, but worse, it had made Armie feel pity for the person. He never wanted Leighanne to feel that way about him. “Thank you for rescuing me. Again. Where’s Mitchell?”

A voice from across the room echoed, coming closer as he spoke. “You both need to start calling me Mitch. I never considered myself a Mitchell.”

“I like Mitchell.” Leighanne’s lilting tones. Her voice was so musical. “It sounds classic.”

Mitchell hummed at the compliment, and Armie heard skin sliding against skin. Was he touching her? Had they done something together? Of course they had. Judging by how they had felt at the JCA, they were both extremely witty and smart and accomplished. Of course they’d be together. Armie couldn’t hold back his sigh at another missed opportunity. He should have gotten over himself back in that locker room, should have given in to what he’d wanted. But the fear and the shame had been too strong, to the point where it was almost all he felt nowadays.

Armie cleared his throat. “Thanks, Mitch, for taking care of me.” The words felt like shrapnel in his mouth. “Is my phone here? I should call a cab.”

“Uh¼”Leighanne hesitated a second. “Yes, your phone is here. But we want you to stay for breakfast.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

A big hand, Mitch’s hand, squeezed Armie’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t be intruding. In fact”—he slid the hand up the side of Armie’s neck and into his curls, playing with the strands and rubbing them against the shell of his ear—“we’ve been waiting to get you alone again since the locker room.”

Armie didn’t have to guess at Mitch’s meaning. The heat had been off the charts. Maybe they’d waited for him. Maybe they still wanted him. That would be too much to hope for. “Can I get a toothbrush and a shower?”

“Only if you stay for breakfast,” Leighanne said, the hopeful tone in her voice so endearing.

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

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ABOUT CERI GRENELLE

I’ve always had an active imagination. An imagination that usually took form in the way of zoning out in the middle of conversations. I eventually decided it was time to share my daydreaming with the world and began to put my musings on paper. It started with Harry Potter fanfiction and grew from there.

I am currently living it up in Northern California after a big move from New York City. And by living it up I mean staying home with my cats, obsessively watching episodes of my favorite TV shows, all of which are extremely geeky, and simultaneously reading the next book on my reading list. I do all this while trying not to pig out on unhealthy snacks. As you can tell, I lead a busy life.

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