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#i know i said i’d do reo for this au but that’s coming next
augustinewrites · 7 months
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+ series summary: as marius von hagen’s assistant, it’s your job to accompany him to certain public functions. you’re used to being in the background, but this time? the event is an engagement party, and he doesn’t need an assistant. he needs a date.
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as soon as the elevator opens to the penthouse floor, you pull the key card out of your purse and march straight to the door on your right.
six months ago you would have hesitated. six months ago you would have knocked politely, with a cup of coffee, a muffin, and a kind smile. 
now, you slap the key against the scanner aggressively. as soon as it turns green, you push down the handle and lean heavily on the door to let yourself in. 
you scrunch your nose as you step over a pair of sloppily discarded high heels, slipping your own off and pushing both pairs aside with a stocking-clad foot. then you venture into your boss’ apartment, deciding to deal with the blonde scrolling through her phone on the couch first.
“you need to leave,” you tell her dispassionately, picking up what you assume is her clutch and tossing it into her lap. “this isn’t a bed and breakfast. mr. von hagen has business to attend to.”
you wait impatiently as she looks you up and down, taking in your office ensemble along with the identification card hanging from your lanyard. 
relenting, she lets you herd her out the door without protest, but not before handing off all her contact information in case your boss ‘wants to have fun again.’
you take the little slip of paper (noting the lipstick kiss in the corner), then slam the door in her face. 
monday mornings are always the same. 
after kicking out sunday’s trash, you grab some aspirin and a glass of water, heading for the master bedroom.
predictably, marius is still passed out. you find him practically spread-eagled in the bed, with only a thin top sheet protecting his modesty. 
you’ve learned the hard way that marius sleeps nude, but seeing his toned chest and abdomen, along with the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading below the sheet never fails to make you catch your breath…
you squeeze your eyes shut, telling yourself to snap out of it. he’s your boss, the man who signs your paychecks and is the cause of some of your biggest headaches to date. 
“sir,” you whisper harshly from the doorway, reluctant to move closer. when you don’t get a response, you call out to him again, this time at a normal volume. much to your chagrin, his cute sleeping face - mouth slightly parted, brows scrunched - remains unchanged. 
huffing, you step around last night’s clothes and empty liquor bottles to rip the curtains open, letting the morning sunshine stream into the room. this action makes marius stir, groaning tiredly as he lays a hand over his eyes. 
“sir,” you say again, with more force this time. “you have a consult with the legal team in a half hour.”
“the legal team…” he mutters, still refusing to pry his eyes open. 
he continues to grumble uselessly into his pillowcase, clearly intending to make your job as difficult as possible. 
…until you check your watch and decide that you can’t waste anymore time coddling him, so you take the half filled glass of water and dump it over his head. 
he jerks up with a sputter, glaring at you as he swipes the ice water out of his face. 
“there are nicer ways to wake a guy up, you know,” he huffs, shaking the water out of his hair. 
you set the glass down, sighing. “if you want to be babied, sir, you should call vincent.” 
he mumbles something you’re sure is rude under his breath, pushing wet bangs out of his face before asking, “where’s maia?”
“first of all her name is–” you check the note you’d scrunched in your pocket. “–mia and she left her cell number, home number, and the number of the strip club she works at.” you hold it out to him, humming. “very classy, sir.”  
he doesn’t even look at it, so you crumple it back up and stuff it into your pocket. 
“yikes. i don’t know why she bothered. i already gave her the speech.” he shrugs, clearing his throat as he recites, “‘last night was incredible. you’re a great girl, but right now in my career–’” 
“‘i just can’t give you the relationship you want or deserve,’” you finish, having heard him recycle the practiced line to multiple other hookups in the last three months.
“hey, you memorized it!” he exclaims, lifting his hand for a high five. he lowers it when he sees your unimpressed look. “wrong crowd, i see that now.”
rolling your eyes, you turn around and open the door to his closet, grabbing a set of clothes that costs more than your rent and laying them over your arm as you call over your shoulder, “when i took this job, i didn’t expect to deal with the pussy parade. be honest, are you in some kind of competitive sex tournament?”
“i’m young and single!” he reasons, catching the boxers you throw at his head and quickly slipping them on. “i’m allowed to sow a few oats.” 
everyone in the office knows that it’s really about the lawyer from themis getting engaged. 
you’ve seen the way marius used to look at her, seen the plain adoration that used to shine in his gaze. it’s why ever since news of her engagement, you go through this every monday— when she comes in to help him navigate the confusing reports and updates of confusing legalese.
his behaviour these past few weeks was a coping mechanism. an unhealthy one, obviously, but who were you to tell that to the president of a multi-billion dollar company?
“whatever you say, sir,” you shrug, shoving the pants and button down into his arms. “get changed. i’ll call vincent and have him let everyone know we’re on our way.” 
you step out of the bedroom to let him get dressed, deciding to make yourself busy by starting the coffee maker. as the scent of freshly ground beans fills the penthouse, you take a moment to pull out your phone and double-check your boss’ calendar. 
after the meeting with legal, his schedule is relatively clear. only a handful of things you need him to review, along with a spot of press. it’s a relatively easy monday, by all means.
it’s then that berry decides to make an appearance, the adorable russian blue leaping up onto the counter and meowing insistently to get your attention. smiling, you reach out to scratch lightly under his chin.
“what are we going to do with him, huh?” you whisper, scooping him up into your arms. content purrs rumble against your palm as you stroke his fur. 
“traitor,” marius scoffs, entering the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder to see him looking somewhat put together. not only is his shirt still untucked, but his hair is still messy and wet and you’re positive he’s still sweating tequila. 
he ignores the fresh coffee in favour of grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge. he unscrews the cap, flicking it onto the counter so he can take a swig. 
“unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath. marius  glances over at you, wiping the corner of his mouth with sleeve before holding the carton out to you. 
“what? you want some?”
you push it away with a fingertip. “no, thank you.”
he shrugs, screwing the cap back on and shoving it back into the fridge. you and berry watch with equally unimpressed looks as he rummages through the oversized pantry, resurfacing with a box of cereal. 
you turn to open a nearby cabinet, grabbing a bowl. 
but in those few seconds, he’d already ripped the box open and was scooping cereal out with his hands, pouring handfuls into his mouth. 
this is it, you think as he gets crumbs all over his nice shirt. this is what marius von hagen looks like when he hits rock bottom. 
_____
you barely make it to the meeting on time. 
the whole team is already seated, ready to begin. marius - with the mcdonald’s iced coffee that’d almost made the two of you late in hand - takes a seat at the head of the conference table. 
your boss is surprisingly alert despite the fact that his brain is currently steeped in alcohol. he takes notes, asks appropriate questions, makes thoughtful suggestions. it’s one of the things you respect about him. he is a professional first and foremost.
“it seems that’s all for today,” he says once the last subject has been covered. “if there are any other questions, please keep them to yourselves.”
with that, he makes his grand exit.
well…he was a professional most of the time.
you're quick to jump in when the room fills with dissatisfied murmurs. “if you have any questions, please direct them to vincent or myself so we may raise them with mr. von hagen at a later time."
with that, everyone carries on with their day. you head back to your desk with an armload of paperwork for marius to look over and sign. you read the first few pages as you walk, already working out a summary in your head.
you make it to your desk just in time to see rosa following marius into his office.
chatting in his office after a meeting is a fairly common occurance. rosa comes by to help review whatever contracts his staff of corporate lawyers had drawn up, or walk him through any topics confused about.
your phone buzzes with a message from marius.
[marius]: come get me in five to say that we’ll be late for lunch.
what isn’t common is for him to do that.
but you do as he says, knocking politely when the five minutes are up.
“come in!”
“sir,” you begin after sending rosa a small wave. “we’ll be late for lunch if we don’t leave now.”
“lunch?” the young lawyer echoes, sounding confused. “it’s hardly 10am.”
marius clicks his tongue, closing the folder on his desk. “well, you know what they say. early worm gets the worm.”
“that’s not at all correct—”
he’s already nudging you out the door, a respectful hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you away from his office. “see you later, miss!”
“what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your face heat up as you become the object of your coworker’s confused stares. “i have work to do—”
marius pulls you into an empty conference room, closing the door behind you.
“rosa invited me to her engagement party this weekend,” he says, tone clipped.
you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this. “shall i pick out a gift?”
“no, i’ll take care of that,” he tells you. then, with a growing smile that almost always means he’s up to something, he asks, “what are you doing this saturday?”
“i—”
“trick question. i’d like you to accompany me as my date.”
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DDD Week #3
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Pairing: AU Dean x Reader
Summary: Dean is having a bad day in school, but YN comforts him.
Warning: Slight cursing, Mega Fluff
A/N: This drabble kinda gives away my next series, but I thought I'd try it out and see what people think. Week 3 of the Dynamic Duo Drabbles! Make sure to check out @mlovesstories​ drabble this week and the previous weeks. We both also have Masterlists for our DDDs. Reader and Dean are both 17 in this AU drabble.
***ASK OPEN***
*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*
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"They keep calling me 'special', but what's so special about me?"
It was late after school, and YN was leaving her honors club meeting later than usual. She was waiting for her boyfriend, Dean, to text her and let her know his baseball practice was over.
Dean would always text YN when he was out of practice and waiting outside the classroom where she had her meeting. Dean would wait as long as he needed to for YN's meeting to end. Then they'd walk hand in hand back to his car, he'd take the long way back to her house just to spend more time together, then drop her off just to talk to her on the phone for the rest of the night.
But this was currently not the case. Dean hadn't messaged her yet and when she locked up the classroom, he wasn't sitting outside of it waiting on her. She got out her phone to call him, but when she tried it went straight to voicemail.
Was he okay? Is there something wrong? Was it something I did? Questions were bouncing all around in YN's head.
Deciding to go look for him, YN starting walking around the empty walls. She looked in classrooms, knocked on bathroom doors, and even went into the gymnasium thinking maybe he would be working out or something.
But Dean was nowhere to be found.
As she passed the auditorium, she saw someone sitting on the stage. She walked inside and suddenly realized it was Dean.
"Dean? Babe, are you okay?" she asked as she walked down the aisle towards the stage.
When she reached the stage, she sat down on the edge next to Dean. Almost as soon as she sat down, Dean laid his head on her shoulder. YN wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" YN asked.
Dean took a deep breath and sighed, "I really like baseball. I like hanging out with my friends and I know my dad enjoys it too, but I just don't feel like it's for me anymore."
YN was confused, "So wait, you like it...but you don't?"
Dean's face fell into his hands and he let his head hang, "I don't know."
"Did something happen?" asked YN.
Dean was quiet for a moment before he reached in his pocket and handing his girlfriend a flyer. YN looked it over before looking back at Dean with a confused shake of her head.
"The choir and drama teachers heard me singing in the hallway last week when I was waiting for you. They said I had a ‘beautiful tenor voice’ and ‘should audition for the musical’ they're doing. Auditions were today after school so I skipped baseball practice to come to them. After I auditioned, the teachers came up to me and said I would be in the musical without a doubt just because of my voice and being comfortable on stage."
YN hugged Dean, "Babe, that's great! I told you that your voice was amazing," she paused when she saw the look on his face, "But something tells me you're not that excited."
Dean crossed his arms and looked away from YN, "I am. But I'm afraid of what my coach will say. I don't want to tell him I auditioned and I sure as hell don't want him to know I like singing," he closed his eyes, "I can't even imagine what my dad would think about it."
"Well, did you enjoy being on stage singing today?" asked YN.
Dean smiled, "More than I've ever enjoyed being on that baseball field."
"Then that's how you know, Dean. Maybe singing is your thing, not baseball."
Dean continued to look away from YN for a while. All YN could do was comfort her boyfriend and try to keep him calm. They sat in silence for a bit.
Dean looked up at YN with tears in his eyes, "The choir and drama teachers keep saying the same thing. They keep calling me 'special', but what's so special about me?"
YN kissed Dean's nose, "Well for one, you're Dean Winchester."
Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Come on, be serious."
"I am being serious. You're Dean Winchester. You're kind, loyal, trusting, honest, intelligent, thoughtful, loving, caring, and incredibly handsome to boot. You're very talented on the baseball field as well as on stage. Besides all of that, you're very special to me. We've been best friends since kindergarten, and dating for 3 years. And don't even get me started on your voice. I love when you sing. Whether it be in the shower, while you're driving, or just casually singing at any point. Your voice is very melodic, Dean. Now, tell me," YN kissed his cheek, "what makes you think you're not special?"
Dean shrugged, "I can't argue with your logic, YN. You're right, as always."
YN stood up and held her hand out for Dean, "Why don't I call my parents and tell them I'll be home later tonight. Let's you and I go take a drive. Maybe it'll relax you a bit more."
Dean smiled and took her hand, "I love that idea."
Dean and YN left the school and climbed into Dean's car. Dean drove out of the school parking lot towards an old back road. He rolled the windows down and turned up the radio.
He and YN recognized the song, Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon and sang along to it.
In the middle of the chorus, YN turned the volume off and just listened to Dean sing. He was so lost in the song that he never realized the radio was off. When he stopped singing, he blushed and started laughing.
"You just had to do that didn't you?" he said while rubbing his neck nervously.
YN nodded, "Absolutely. Like I said, you're very special. Especially to me."
------------------------------
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jcmorrigan · 4 years
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Right, since you asked me questions about my f/o, I'll fire some at you now! 1. Favourite place to go with them 2. How do you care for them when they are ill and vice versa 3. Had any playful arguments that you look at and go 'what were we doing??' I'll slide these over here and be on my way ;3
All right! So, as a reminder, I have three (3) romantic f/o’s - XR from Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, Tony Dracon from Gargoyles, and Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. And for this exercise, I am going to answer all three questions FOR ALL THREE OF THEM! (If you’re following me for something other than selfship and you don’t wanna see me ramble for three pages, please block the tag “selfship” now)
1. FAVORITE PLACE TO GO!
I hadn’t realized until I thought about it, but it always seems to come back to a rooftop in the city. You think I like city lights or something? I do. I love city lights. I love cities.
Anyway, with XR, I decided right away that our favorite planet is Trade World, seedy underbelly and all. We can kill time there forever (and probably waste all our money on stuff that isn’t important). I haven’t written it yet, but one of the ideas I had for writing us was that after the big love confession, we’d have our first date on a rooftop restaurant there and watch the lights come on as the sun set, at which point I very sappily draw a connection between my love of city lights and XR’s eyes.
As for Giovanni, I have this whole oneshot about our first kiss that revolves around us trying to find the most perfect and fittingly dramatic place for it, and I ended up putting us on a rooftop at the edge of town where the Sweet Jazz skyline would be our background in all its luminescent glory. I imagine we’d go back up to that building again and again to talk about things if we’re not chilling at home or a base of operations. Just watching the night.
Then for Tony? I admittedly hadn’t given it too much thought, but I immediately got an image of us on, guess what, a rooftop, but of a skyscraper in downtown NYC. Now, Gio and I had to break onto ours by scaling the fire escape ladders; Tony would bust locks and we’d just take the stairs up from the inside. And that’s where we slow-dance when we want to be alone. Bring up a whole portable stereo and a mix of the schmaltziest love rock-ballads (think, like, REO Speedwagon or Journey). Come to think of it, I actually don’t know whether he’s made the connection that the Gargoyles operate out of the Eyrie, so we would definitely look at the freaking castle above the clouds and go “Next target” without knowing the law and order of the town that plagues our existence roosts there.
I’m also working on an AU that is compliant with my “Taking Back the Crown” crossover universe, and in that one, I’m thinking I’d be polyamorous with all three. While I haven’t picked a favorite spot, I do know that particular s/i would live in Twilight Town, and since Final Fantasy is piecemeal AU’d into KH logic (whereas none of those three are from canon KH worlds but it’s an easy crossover gateway so their worlds would just be intact), I actually have this design that Rabanastre from FFXII would be the capital of the nation Twilight Town is in and a few hours’ train ride away, and the four of us just LOVE heading over there and probably scaling some rooftops.
2. CARING FOR THE SICK!
Let’s start with me, in general. I’m a huge hypochondriac. I fear germs. I’m not really that good at taking care of sick friends/family, but for a romantic partner, I’d try to step up my game. I’d be on call. Now, if they were just ordinary sick, I might see if they’d be okay staying home while I got work done, with the caveat that I have my phone on me and can answer whenever. They’re stricken with debilitating nausea and can’t leave the bed? I’ll play hooky. But I’ll try to keep a reasonable distance whenever possible (chatting with them from across the room, where I am planted in a chair that is far away from the bed) and use a surgical mask and gloves whenever approaching. Yes, that may sound heartless, but I still wanna be available to bring them whatever they need, just with my armor on. And I’m not me unless I’m a raging hypochondriac who thinks she’s coming down with what her boyfriend’s got every five seconds. The exception, of course, is XR, who I envision would get sick as a visual gag of having a “computer virus” and exhibit all the symptoms of a head cold without actually being contagious.
Tony is low-maintenance and insists he doesn’t need to be babied, so he’s not gonna even ask me for that much except company. Giovanni and XR are both absolutely complainers and going to whine at me every five minutes, which will inevitably make my heart melt.
As for when I’m sick…
XR loves playing “nurse” (kinda like I had him in this oneshot where I sprain my shoulder) and will get me everything I want. This is for somewhat selfish reasons so I will talk up how great of a boyfriend he is when I’m sick. Also, there’s a good chance that any medical supplies he brings me might be “borrowed without permission” from Star Command’s med bay. He WILL bring me illegal narcotics, and I WILL turn them down. He’ll also call in sick to work himself to take care of me - and also because it gives him an excuse to not turn in to work. We’ll likely end up binging shows cuddled up together if I’m not sleepy or too nauseous.
Tony isn’t all that attentive; he knows I’m a grown-up and can mostly handle myself. If I’m seriously incapacitated, he’ll watch over me, but in most cases, he’ll take off to get his own work done, same philosophy as me: call me if you need anything. He’s not gonna rush to bring me things, but he will do smaller gestures - brushing my hair back if I’m asleep before he leaves, etc. After business is taken care of, if I seem stable and not contagious, he’ll assist me in setting up on the couch with blankets aplenty on one end while he sits on the other, and really, all my f/o’s know that when I’m sick, I just wanna binge TV shows, so that’s what we do.
Giovanni freaks out. He also wants to get me everything I need, but he’s kinda not used to taking care of sick people, so he’ll be running around like a headless chicken asking me if I need various medical supplies that don’t at all apply to the kind of illness I have (such as a splint or a tourniquet). And soup. He will bring me so much soup. Hey, he’s good at making it, so I’m not gonna complain. He also does unfortunately think cuddling will make things better, and want to sit in bed next to me or kiss me for reassurance. I tell him over and over and over that that’s just gonna get him sick. Less than 24 hours later, he’s caught what I have, and I’m just “GEE, I WONDER HOW THAT HAPPENED.”
3. PETTY ARGUMENTS!
XR and I are built on petty arguments. He fulfills my fantasies of a relationship based on tsundere rivalry. We will find things to argue about for fun. This is how we get our kicks. I call him a dumbass, he calls me a narcissist, we don’t mean it (…mostly). He once caught me singing and dancing, thinking I was alone, and taped it and circulated it as a meme. He thinks it’s hilarious if I trip and fall. Conversely, I think it’s hilarious if he runs into things when he’s not looking where he’s going. I keep a running record of stupidest spelling mistakes he’s made and will trot them out whenever appropriate. At the end of the day, though, we set it all aside. Don’t let anyone know we’re actually nice to each other behind closed doors!
Tony and I basically argue about one petty thing: the fact that he CANNOT DRIVE. Is there canon precedent to this? Not really, except for the fact that his henchmen always seem to be driving the getaway car. But I have it in my head that the people in our operation who should be driving are me, Pal Joey, and Glasses. The person in our operation who should not be driving is Tony. Guess which one of the four asks most often to drive? Yeah. And sometimes he wears us down and we have to deal with him nearly killing us by driving 20 mph above the speed limit. IN DOWNTOWN NEW YORK. THE POLICE CHASE HASN’T EVEN STARTED. If there is one thing that is the subject of our married-couple spats, it is THIS.
Arguing with Giovanni is more of a minefield because we both have a habit of pretending we’re not sensitive about certain things until one of us rags on that certain thing and then it explodes. I have a oneshot idea, may or may not write it, in which he insults my “nerd glasses” like he always does with Sylvie, and I’m legitimately hurt but trying not to show it, so I engage in a rivalry argument with him that lasts all day, up until he jokingly says that I have delusions of grandeur and I just say “Well, at least I don’t think I’m qualified to be captain when I’m not” about myself when I realize that my lack of filter made it sound like I insinuated he wasn’t qualified to be captain, at which point he will actually start crying and insist to me that words hurt. Everything’s made better when we sit down and have an honest talk about what we said that hurt each other and then hug it out.
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From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kristen Ashley comes a new story in her Chaos series…
~Sherry “ Chaos is back (*Heart eyes) and I for one am THRILLED!!!”
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About ROUGH RIDE:
Rosalie Holloway put it all on the line for the Chaos Motorcycle Club.
Informing to Chaos on their rival club—her man’s club, Bounty—Rosalie knows the stakes. And she pays them when her man, who she was hoping to scare straight, finds out she’s betrayed him and he delivers her to his brothers to mete out their form of justice.
But really, Rosie has long been denying that, as she drifted away from her Bounty, she’s been falling in love with Everett “Snapper” Kavanagh, a Chaos brother. Snap is the biker-boy-next door with the snowy blue eyes, quiet confidence and sweet disposition who was supposed to keep her safe…and fell down on that job.
For Snapper, it’s always been Rosalie, from the first time he saw her at the Chaos Compound. He’s just been waiting for a clear shot. But he didn’t want to get it after his Rosie was left bleeding, beat down and broken by Bounty on a cement warehouse floor.
With Rosalie a casualty of an ongoing war, Snapper has to guide her to trust him, take a shot with him, build a them…
And fold his woman firmly in the family that is Chaos.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
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Links
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2CexSQJ Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2CfCGWd Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2H44bWk Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2EtXsq7
Download the Free Kindle App
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Excerpt
He spit on me.
I felt it land on the side of my chin and slide down.
I didn’t move to wipe it away.
I couldn’t.
Lying on my side, curled into a ball, the pain screamed through me. All of it—and there was a lot of it—demanding attention, I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think, couldn’t move in case it got worse. I couldn’t do anything but lie there and pray that it was over.
It wasn’t.
He bent over me, grabbed my hair, yanked it back, and I felt his hot breath hit my face.
“See if he wants you now, you stupid bitch,” he hissed.
He let my hair go and I felt him retreat, but he still wasn’t done.
He kicked me so hard with his foot in its heavy motorcycle boot, my body slid across the cement.
I was too far gone even to grunt.
I felt something bounce off my hip, clatter to the floor, and then his voice came back, this time from further away.
“There you go, baby,” he drawled. “Your line to Chaos. We’re done with you. I’m done with you. Now they can have you.”
I heard boots on cement, more than just his, his Bounty brothers in the club. I sustained a couple more kicks as they passed. One of them grabbed the underside of my jaw and shoved my head back into the cement, also spitting, his hitting my neck.
And then they were gone.
I lay there, my focus on breathing and continuing to do it even though each breath was not only an effort but an agony. The fear I’d felt early when he took me, how he’d taken me, the way he’d handled me and I knew he’d figured it out, had dissipated as pain took its place. Now, the fear was returning that they’d come back and dish out more.
He’d come back.
Throttle.
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4 Star Review by Sherry
I have been so missing the Chaos boys and their lady loves. I absolutely DEVOURED this novella in one sitting. What I love about these stories is the way these boys love. They do it unlike no others. Constant, diligent and fierce. Snapper is no exception to this unspoken rule of Chaos men and how they treat their old ladies. We saw this relationship forming in Walk Through Fire, ill advised by his brothers but happening all the same for Snapper.
This book gives us the down and dirty side to betrayal of (dirty)bike clubs and the harsh consequences. This book also gives us the protective, claiming side of a (good) bike club.
Rosalie has been hurt one too many times by a man of a club. Some emotional, others much worse. So the thoughts of anything more than a friendship with Snapper is all but out of the question.
I love that she was as tough as any biker woman needs to be to handle being with this type of man. She really shined in this novella and became a new favorite to the gang.
Snapper… oh my he was a deep soul. I did NOT see him coming. He was a beautifully complex yet simple man who was Rosalie’s perfect counterpart. She just needs to see it for herself. Patience flew out the window for Snapper and he was ALL IN!
This was a sweet ride into Snapper and Rosalie’s life as a couple.
There is some serious foreshadowing coming at you AND let me tell you, you are NOT prepared for what happens by the end! This has been building since book one and we have been given the hint!
Happy Reading~ Sherry
About Kristen Ashley:
Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorize and she hadn't taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen's Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning. Nothing's changed. Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she's blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.
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