Happy Release to Carmen Jenner
Kick is LIVE!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1z3NZL8
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RELEASE DATE: January 26th, 2015
Excerpt #1
“You gotta let go now, Princess. I gotta hand you over.”
Her panicked gaze meets mine. “He’ll shoot you.”
“No, he won’t.”
“Yes, he will.”
I smile down at her. “What are we just gonna stand here
forever, you in my arms, your dad holding a gun to my head? If he shoots me, he
shoots me. Ain’t nothing I can do about that, Princess. At least I’ll know I
did one thing right.”
She takes a deep, shaky breath. “I’d be dead if it weren’t
for you.”
I nod, because it’s true. If Slayer hadn’t come at a deal,
Prez would’ve eventually killed her, and he’d have tortured her some more
first. “Promise me somethin’?”
“What?”
“Get on your feet and then get the hell outta here. Prez
will come looking for you again. He’s not a guy who likes to lose. Take as much
money as you can, and get the fuck away from this life, otherwise you’re gonna
wind up filling a body bag way too young.”
Lauren is wrenched away from me then. She screams as the
Italian carts her off toward the clubhouse, flailing and slapping at him
despite her injuries.
“Daniel!” she screams, reaching out toward me as he
struggles to get her inside. Without thinking I take a step forward, but I’m
attacked from behind. My knees go out from under me and I’m shoved face-first
into the ground. Some heavy motherfucker sits down on my back. I buck, trying
to unseat him, but I’m whacked in the back of the head until I stop.
“Well, isn’t that fuckin’ touching? The Angel scum, in love
with my daughter? Didn’t I warn you away from her once before?” Slayer asks,
circling me like a predator circles prey. The biker using me for a chair shoves
his gun against the back of my skull.
“Yeah, I did,” Slayer continues, and he motions for the guy
on top of me to force me to stand. I’m dragged up by the hair and presented to
Slayer. “At the rally, where she fuckin’ went missin’!” His red, blotchy face
almost touches mine. He’s so close I can see the blood vessels snaking out from
the corners of his eyes. He’s fucking high. His daughter’s been locked up,
raped, beaten, treated like a fuckin’ animal over some shit that she shouldn’t
even have to know about, and the arsehole’s gettin’ high as a fuckin’ kite
instead of findin’ her? He makes me sick. He’s everything I hate about the
life. And he’s more than likely exactly where I’ll end up, because this is what
we are—this is what livin’ in the club gets you: bitterness, enemies, and a
shit-tonne of bad blood.
Excerpt #2:
I pick up a cup of cold, stale, black coffee and chug it
down. It tastes like shit, so I screw the cap off of a bottle of Jack and chase
the black filth with the burn of amber. I set it back on the table while the
familiar click of my gun being cocked echoes through my small room. I laugh.
Fucking ballsy bitches make me hot.
“Hands in the air, and turn around. Slowly,” the woman says
through a scratchy throat. I do as she asks, mostly because I want to keep my
spine intact, but also partly because bitches with guns are fucking hot, and
I’m hard as a rock just thinking about the way she’s gonna look with a pistol
trained on me.
She’s been busy while I was out, rummaging through my
drawers and finding a pair of loose tracksuit pants. They’re rolled at the
waist, so much that it makes her look pregnant. That, combined with her crazy fuckin’
cat lady hair and the filth covering her body, makes her look like a homeless
person.
I smile and clasp my hands behind my head. Her eyes rove
over me, taking in my size. She’s checking me for the arsenal I so obviously
have stashed away in my fucking worn, faded jeans. She’s not checking me out
and dreaming about me taking her rough and hard on my fucking scratched-up
dining table, but I still get a fucking boner out of having her eyes roam all
over me.
“Pick up the keys, and open the door,” she commands.
“If you run, they’ll shoot you.”
“Pick up the fucking keys.”
I snatch up the keys and lob them at her, hard enough that
she has to twist out of the way. She cries out as she does, proving to me that
her ribs are definitely injured, maybe even cracked. I lunge at her. Shoving
her back against the bed, I land on top of her, warding off her blows with one
hand and squeezing her wrist with the other until she drops the gun on the
floor.
“Get off me!” she screams.
“You’re not leaving this clubhouse,” I whisper in her ear as
she struggles beneath me. “The best you can hope for is to play nice and I
might decide to keep you as a house mouse. But if you piss me off, and if you
pull on me with my own gun again, your life will be so much worse. You thought
the dentist was fucked up? Baby, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve lived
inside my fantasies for a day. So if I were you, I’d be really fuckin’ careful
about how you play your next move.”
Excerpt #3:
I take a deep shuddering breath, close my eyes and stretch
my hand towards him. His touch is gentle this time, far more gentle than I’d
ever thought someone with so much uncontained violence to him could be.
“Spread your fingers,” he commands. I do, and he lifts the
roll of tape, presses the edge to my skin and begins winding it over my
knuckles. I close my eyes. The strident sound of it stretching out from the
roll makes me want to flee. It makes me want to run as far from his touch—from
any man’s touch—as I can possibly get.
The feel of the tape against my flesh, binding, holding, is
so much worse. I tug on my hand, but he won’t let go. My heartrate skyrockets,
and sweat beads erupt over my brow and upper lip. I’m in that room again,
struggling, screaming, trying to fight them off, and failing.
Biker knows it, too.
His dark eyes challenge, they dare me to run, but they also implore me to stay.
It’s ironic that the only thing keeping me here, keeping me grounded, is the
man who abducted me.
He holds my gaze. I don’t know exactly what is hidden in his
dark blue one, but it suffocates the panic within me, douses it like water
flooding flames. He bends his head to my hand. Taking the paper tape in his
mouth, he rips it with his teeth.
I still. I soften. His gaze doesn’t leave mine, not even
once. Not even when he starts in on my wrist, gently biting through each piece
of tape before pressing it down with his rough hands. I’m mesmerised by his
mouth, the piercing, and the soft, full lips. The light catches a silver chain
around his neck, something I’ve never noticed before—but then I try not to make
a habit of staring too closely at him. Not now, though. Now I watch every
twitch, every blink, every intake of breath, and every inch that is swallowed
up by his mouth moving closer to my flesh.
Blurb
When I was ten, my father indoctrinated me into the family.
A brotherhood who would fight, protect, and give their lives
for one another. A club whose ties ran thicker than blood, murkier than the
dirt and grime that tainted my soul. Stronger than the bonds that connected me
to my own family.
A band of brothers, where loyalty was kept and paid in a
currency of blood.
When I was twenty-seven, I betrayed that brotherhood.
I’ve spent every day since running, avoiding paying back
that debt.
My name is Daniel Johnson.
I have betrayed everyone I ever loved.
And I’ll betray her too.
This is my story—if you’re screwed up enough to want to read
it.
Warning: KICK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug
use, and explicit sexual situations of a taboo nature. Intended for an 18+
audience only. Not intended for pussies.
5 Stars
This isn't your normal MC read. This is a violent and gritty read. There is rape in it, just a warning.
Kick is so messed up.
He believes that there is nothing good about him. He is a monster. He needs some sort of violence during sex. He gets hard seeing women get beat and raped,
he knows it's not right, but it still happens.
Like I said, h is messed up bigtime.
He never really had a chance because of his upbringing. Born to a druggie club whore for a mom, and a
dad that could care less. He was bred to
be in the club. He is drawn to women
that are just as messed up as he is.
Kick's Prez gives him a job.
Getting to the warehouse and inside, changes everything for him. He actually saves some woman instead of
putting a bullet in her head. He deals
with some heavy things after this.
"She'll come to see that anything between us was, and
can only be a beautiful lie. I'm no
Prince F***in' Charming. I'm an
arsehole. I'm cruel, and I'm a criminal
with no moral compass. Or at least
that's who I was. I have no f***in' clue
who I am right now."
"Indie", or Kayla, is the woman in the
warehouse. She has been kidnapped and
held there for 3 weeds. She is being
tortured, beaten and raped, over and over and over again.
"Because I might be a f*** up. And I might be a criminal, and I might be a
worthless piece of s***, just like my dad always told me I was, but that never
stopped me going after what I want. And
like I told her at the cafe, she's all I want.
Just her."
This is a great read.
I loved how Carmen put Kick's past into chapters of their own,
throughout the book. This is definitely
a series I will continue to read and enjoy.
KICK Book Trailer: http://tinyurl.com/o84xd5g
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Visit the Saint Savage MC official website: http://savagesaintsmc.blogspot.com.au/
Additional books by this author
Welcome to Sugartown
Amazon: http://amzn.to/13X0U6S
B&N: http://bit.ly/1yjefiK
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1skhr98
Enjoy Your Stay
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1tqG4Bc
B&N: http://bit.ly/1zaoEhy
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1sqXUVI
Greetings from Sugartown
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1yjdLJp
B&N: http://bit.ly/1qw1Jbs
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1yjeZ7w
Welcome to Sugartown Website:
http://www.welcometosugartown.blogspot.com.au/
About the Author:
Carmen Jenner
Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY Best Selling
Author, doctor, pilot and CIA agent.
She's also a compulsive, flagrant prevaricator who gets to make things
up for a living.
While Sugartown may not technically exist, Carmen grew up in
a small Australian town just like it, and just like her characters, she always
longed for something more. They didn't have an Elijah Cade, though.
If they did, you can be sure she would have never left.
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