What happens when your past comes back to haunt you...and seduce you?
After committing the unthinkable, the unforgivable, Tony Salvai relocates to paradise to reinvent himself and let go of the man he once was. But after one unforgettable night with a sultry and tantalizing redhead, he realizes that he can't hide from his sins—they always find a way back.
Out for vengeance, Red searches for the one man who ruined her life. She's got an agenda and a bullet with his name on it. But when she finally faces off against her sexy and remorseful enemy, will sparks fly or bullets ricochet?
Releases: November 18, 2015
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About the Author:
allyn lesley writes real stories about real people.
As a teen, Allyn lost herself in the pages of some of Romance’s heavyweights, trusting that a happy ever after was just around the corner. In Allyn’s own writing journey, as in life, she’s learned that people don’t always experience recovery and restoration after a fall. Her stories speak to the gritty side of life where the right choice isn't always easily identified and happiness not quickly gained.
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“Who are you?”
“The new hire.” She swiped the dishrag on top of the worn, brown countertop, and didn’t look like she’d be offering up any more information.
If she knew me in my heyday, that’d never been her response. He raked her form up, down, then up again while he tried to decide if she were old enough to be inside a bar. Her hair was the color of a strong glass of cognac. The sides were short and neat, giving the air of a responsible adult. But the front had an ‘I don’t give a shit’ tousled effect that made him wonder again if she was legal. The style made her oval face more interesting than it really was, but when his gaze flitted over her high cheekbones and past her feline-shaped eyes that were the color of molten pewter, he concluded she was attractive, in a strange sort of way. And he liked the way her pointy chin stuck up in the air with defiance, or maybe it was confidence.
“Are you done eye-fucking me or do you need another minute, old man?” the bartender asked. Her question was matter-of-fact, and didn’t hold a lick of reprimand in it.
I like her. “The name’s Tony and I’ll be taking another minute.”
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