RELEASE
DATE: FEB 19
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I am a
Killer. A Rapist. A Monster.
I know
only pain and survival.
That
is until the Cappo's sister walked into my life.
And
changed everything.
She's
a light who makes my darkness darker, her smile makes my heart turn to ice, and
I can't escape the fear her seductive looks instill--knowing it's only a matter
of time before I fail--again, and take her for myself.
This
is the story of my redemption.
But
it's not pretty...I died, and now I'm alive, but not living, breathing but not
surviving. I am Phoenix De Lange, son to a murdered mob boss, estranged
brother, horrible friend, monster in the making, newest leader to one of the
most powerful families in the Cosa Nostra.
And I
will have my vengeance.
Or die
trying.
I am
Phoenix De Lange.
Death
is all I know.
Until
she offers me a piece of life--I can't resist taking.
Ember
Eagle Elite Book
5
Copyright © 2015 RACHEL VAN
DYKEN
Ember: A small piece of
burning coal.
Origin:
Old English, Germanic.
Example: All
it takes is a one tiny piece of ember to start a flame, one small
flame to
burst forth into a fire. One spark, and a man’s world may implode from
the inside
out.
Prologue
Phoenix
“Do it,” my father spat. “Or I will.”
I looked at the girl at my feet and
back at my father. “No.”
He lifted his hand above my head; I
knew what was coming, knew it would hurt like hell but had no way to fight back
— he’d already starved me of my food for the past three days for arguing, for
trying to save the girl and her cousin.
His fist hit my temple so hard that I
fell to the ground with a cry. The click of his boots against the cement gave
me the only warning I’d have as he reared back and kicked me in the ribs; over
and over again he kicked. The girl screamed, but I stayed silent. Screaming
didn’t help; nothing did.
I waited until he was done — I prayed
that he would kill me this time. I prayed so hard that I was convinced God was
finally going to hear me and take me away from my hell. Anything was better
than living. Anything.
“You worthless—” Another kick to the
head. “—piece of shit!” A kick to my gut. “You will never be boss, not if you
cry every time you must do the hard thing!” Finally, blessed darkness enveloped
my line of vision.
I woke up from the nightmare screaming,
not even realizing that I was safe, in my own bed. With a curse I checked the
clock.
Three a.m.
Well, at least I’d only had one
nightmare — that I’d remembered. I’d been living with Sergio for the past week;
his house was so big that I’d basically taken the east wing, and he’d taken the
West, said he’d hated living alone anyway. I wasn’t stupid; I knew the guy
wasn’t exactly a big fan, but it worked. I needed to stay in the States while I
figured shit out.
And I wasn’t ready to leave. Not when I
needed to learn all I could from Nixon. Not when I had responsibility.
And not when I had those black folders
freaking burning a hole in my mind.
Luca hadn’t just left me an empire;
he’d left me secrets. I wasn’t sure what was worse, knowing everything there
was to know about those I was supposed to be protecting or knowing that at any
minute one of them could turn on us.
“Hey!” Bee barged into my room.
“Damn it!” I pulled the blankets over
my naked body, my heart picking up speed at her tousled hair and bedroom eyes. Tex’s sister, Tex’s sister. My body
wasn’t accepting that — physically it wasn’t accepting any information other
than she was beautiful.
And it was dark.
I looked away, scowling.
“I heard screaming.” Bee took a step
forward, her perfume floating off her body like an aphrodisiac or drug, making
me calm, making me want something I had no business wanting.
“Yeah, well…” I gave her a cold glance.
“…clearly I’m fine, so you should go. Actually, why are you here? You know you
live with Tex, right?”
She shrugged and sat on my bed. I
clenched my fists around the blankets to keep from reaching out to her. It was
getting harder and harder to ignore her warmth — when I lived in a constant
state of near-death cold.
“He’s with Mo, and they need privacy.
I’m not stupid. So I asked Sergio if I could move in for a while.”
“You did what?” I asked in a deadly
tone, one I was sure would probably give her nightmares later.
She grinned. “I’m your new roomie!” Bee
bounced on the bed and sent me a shy look from beneath her dark lashes. “Admit
it, you miss our slumber parties.”
Forget the nightmare — I was looking at
it.
About
Rachel Van Dyken:
Rachel
Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling
author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can
find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching
The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
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