Angus Boone is the devil.
He lured me in, but not with candy or treats. And like the devil, he saw what no one else did.
All of my sins...all of the stains on my soul.
And then he smiled.
I should have run...far far away.
Instead I made a deal that changed us both forever.
***This is part one of a three-part serial***
Warning: This is non-traditional romance,with adult content, sexual situations and a non-traditional ending.
Buy Links:
Dirty Girl: Part 1
Amazon | ITunes | Barnes and Noble
Dirty Girl: Part 2
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | ITunes
Excerpt:
“Georgia,” she
whispered from behind me.
“No, it’s me, Charity.”
Georgia was my stupid
bitch of a mother. She’d sent a card when Henry died—a card with no return
address and a half-legible signature.
I quit fussing with the
flowers and circled the bed to go sit next to her. “How was your week?”
Her eyes flashed a
lucid blue as she registered who I was, then faded and lost focus. “I wish your
grandfather would hurry up, dear. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
It was a variation of the
eerily similar conversation we’d been having since she’d moved rooms nearly
eighteen months ago. The doctor’s said this was just part of end-stage
Alzheimer’s. Rowena could be perfectly lucid, then not thirty seconds later.
“You just had a nap.
How can you be tired?” Forcing a smile, I covered her hand with mine, trying
not to think about how tiny and fragile—and useless—she was. Had been, I
reminded myself. She couldn’t help the state she was in now. How useless she had been. Her only skills had been as a
hostess, throwing dinner parties…and raising me. I guess my life wasn’t much
more exciting but at least, I was living on my terms, and nobody got hurt.
Maybe she had lived on hers, but I’d
never know. We’d never had those sorts of conversations, and I’d honestly never
thought to ask.
At least I hadn’t
forgotten what was important—family. At least I hadn’t blown her off like
Georgia had. “WeMaw, Gramps is
coming. You want to tell me about your week while we wait?”
“Fine, dear, fine.” She
shifted in her chair and sat up, tucking a hank of faded red hair behind her
ear. “I had…I’m fine. Just fine. Fine, fine,”
she practically spat and her face hardened as she spoke.
The only thing I could
do when she got agitated like this was wait and see if we’d need a nurse’s
help.
“Georgia!” Her tone
louder now, she pushed herself upright in her chair. “You’re going to hell!
Hellfire and dam-nation, girl.”
“I’ll get a nurse,
WeMaw.” Calling her Rowena while she was like this was also a bad idea. Even a
crazy old woman had her limits. I stood on shaky legs, but she grabbed my wrist
before I could make a run for help.
“For shame!” Her hand
connected with my cheek hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “You’re a bad
girl! A horrible, bad girl!” Her grip tightened as she continued to rant, “The
things you’ve done.”
My face stinging, I
struggled to swallow the ball of nausea that came hurtling upward, trying to
bring my breakfast with it. This wasn’t the first time she’d hit me, and I
reminded myself to just keep breathing. This wasn’t really her. I push back the
tears and sucked in a deep breath. This wasn’t the woman who’d raised me.
About Allie Cooke:
Indie author and die-hard Southern girl, Allie Cooke has been reading and writing romance since she was old enough to hold a crayon, so a future as a romance writer wasn’t very farfetched for her. From billionaires to blue collar, from CEO to sexy entrepreneur, whether they’re wearing jeans or suits, Allie’s always had a thing for hot, hunky Alphas who need to be saved from themselves…Usually with the help of the right woman.
When she’s not writing, editing, or reading. Allie can be found cooking up mayhem in the kitchen or catching up on the latest and greatest TV shows with her favorite man.
Links:
Website | Twitter | Facebook Fan Page | Facebook Group: Allie Cooke’s Salon) | Newsletter Subscribe | Goodreads |
Enter Allie’s Giveaway:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
No comments:
Post a Comment