As a newly Made Capo in the Pivetti Crime Family, all eyes are on James “Mac” Maccari, and not for a particularly good reason. The way to his new position in the family was paved with blood, and that left some all too suspicious of where—or who—he might be going after next. Mac isn’t interested in playing to the politics of other Made men or Cosa Nostra. His only goal is to keep his promise and be waiting for his gun moll when she’s finally released from prison.
Until all hell breaks loose … again.
Fresh off her six month sentence, Melina Morgan is all too ready to get back to life, and Mac. The mafia life has been one learning curve after another, but with Mac at her side, there’s nothing that they can throw at her that she can’t handle. Even with a ring on her finger, and a new last name to go with it, Melina won’t be domesticated. But with a man like Mac, he wasn’t exactly looking for that kind of a woman, anyway.
Sometimes, wedding bells bring bloodstains …
When directed attacks start to happen, taking the lives of some of the highest Made men in the Pivetti family, distrust and unrest begins to breed throughout the ranks. Someone is making a move on the boss’s seat, and it seems far too easy to put the blame at Mac’s feet when every single attack is somehow connected to him. All over again, Mac and Melina find they’re fighting an uphill battle to keep each other safe and survive.
But this time, they might not be fighting alone …
Releases: November 14, 2016
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Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD
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Erin writes romance in all genres including paranormal and organized crime. She is the author of the Demi-God Daughters paranormal romance series by Evernight Publishing.
Erin is also the creator of two mafia soap operas with Samhain Publishing.
On May 23, 2016, Gun Moll, an Organized Crime romance was released with co-author, Bethany-Kris. The follow up, Gangster Moll will be released on November 14, 2016.
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Mac Maccari wasn’t a three-piece suit kind of man. He much preferred the comfort of dark-wash jeans, a T-shirt, and combat boots to wear while handling his daily business. It was a comfort thing, and a heat thing.
Glaring up at the bright sun in the sky as he crossed the street as quickly as he could, Mac swore he was melting under his suit. It was an unusually warm Summer for New York. It was almost always muggy during the season, but this year, Mother Nature decided to kick that shit up a notch.
Mac was less than impressed.
It probably didn’t help that the majority of his day was spent running to and from different locations as he handled his crew and what the men were doing at any given time.
But … it was what it was.
And he was damn good at his job.
Mac supposed that if he wasn’t good at being a Capo, he’d already be dead. At least, for the time being, he had that going for him.
The heat wave, however, could go to hell.
Tugging his jacket off, Mac slipped into the business at the very end of the block, tossing the coat over his arm as a cool blast of air from the air conditioner smacked him straight in the face. He soaked in the cold air as he glanced around the place, taking in the woman behind the counter, talking animatedly on the phone and snapping a large wad of gum in her mouth at the same time.
She didn’t even look like she noticed him standing there, for fuck’s sake.
Mac didn’t mind.
He wasn’t here to see her, anyway.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Mac searched for the message he’d been left earlier in the day. Infinite Insurance, ask for Ronnie, it read. A few other details had been included, but Mac figured those weren’t important until he found Ronnie.
Mac had come to find out, over his last few months as a newly appointed Capo for the Pivetti crime family that Luca Pivetti had little to no patience for people who owed him something. It didn’t matter what it was—money, action, or a word. If a person owed him, he expected them to pay accordingly.
Maybe even a little more simply because he was kind enough to do business with them.
As the boss, it was Luca’s due.
Mac didn’t question why his boss hadn’t simply sent an enforcer over to the place to handle his shit—that wasn’t his place. He just did what the boss wanted done.
Bypassing the receptionist without so much as a ‘hello’, Mac strolled to the back of the insurance bankers business, finding a hallway with several offices. All had glass windows for walls, letting him see the men and women inside, sitting behind desks with either a phone to their ear, or clients inside the offices.
Thankfully, plaques were attached to each door, names boldly inscribed on each one.
Mac found the Ronnie he was looking for mid-way down the hallway. The heavier-set gentleman was alone inside his office, from what Mac could see through the window, and didn’t seem to be tied up with a phone call as he was busy sorting papers.
That was going to suck when he had to clean up the mess later.
Mac couldn’t find much remorse for what he was about to do.
Business was business after all.
Cosa Nostra business was even tougher.
It simply couldn’t wait.
Mac didn’t bother to knock on the office door, but rather, turned the knob and walked right in, depositing his jacket on one of the two chairs meant for clients.
The insurance banker—Ronnie—glanced up, startled, at Mac’s sudden appearance. If Mac had to guess by the wrinkled dress shirt, the messy hair, and the tired gaze, Ronnie had some shit on his mind.
He was about to get more.
“You can’t just barge in here,” the man started to say. “Clients make appointments.”
Mac reached over and twisted the blinds closed on the window—no one could see in now. He locked the door, ensuring no one would walk in during the … meeting.
Turning back to face the man he’d been sent to see, Mac offered a wide-eyed Ronnie a smile. Cold as it was, Mac figured the guy would take this better if he was a little loosened up before the actual warning came about.
Ronnie started to stand from his desk, confusion writing heavily over his features. “Who in the hell are you?”
“I’m not important,” Mac said, rolling up the cuffs of his dress shirt.
Blood was a bitch to get out.
Maybe he’d avoid the few splatters that might occur, if it were possible.
But probably not.
“But Luca,” Mac continued, shrugging like it didn’t make a difference. “Now the boss and his money is a whole other story.”
For the first time since Mac entered Ronnie’s office, he saw the first trickle of genuine fear light up the man’s eyes.
“I-I have his—”
“They all say that,” Mac interrupted, knowing what the man was going to say.
Another stall tactic.
“Fact is,” Mac said, keeping an eye on Ronnie in case he grabbed for something to attack with, “… you’re two weeks late, according to the boss. And he was nice enough to fund your little project because apparently, you go way back. Now you’re ducking and dodging Luca like it’s what you do for a living.”
Mac chuckled, waving around at the office.
“Clearly, you work in another business, and you’re not very good at the ducking and dodging game,” Mac finished with another smooth, cold smile.
“Let me call Luca,” the man said quickly. “Please, we’re friends. He’ll understand, I’m sure.”
Luca didn’t care who a person was—friend, family, or enemy.
If someone owed him something, they owed him.
“Just let me make this easy,” Mac said. “You’ve only got to bleed, after all. Nobody says you’re going to fucking die from it. Now, if you make it hard on me, that’s going to be a problem, and it’ll probably hurt a lot more. Do us both a favor here, and let me get this over with.”
Ronnie opened his mouth to say something, his gaze darting to the windows, the door, and then to Mac.
Mac knew that look. It was the look of a man trying to find his way out.
Well, he had news for the guy.
“Make a single sound, and I will cut your tongue out,” Mac said quietly. “There is no where to run, and very few people left in the building. So unless you want your associates to know how you’ve been doing underground business with a mafia boss, I suggest you let me do what I came here to do.”
Mac knew it would be—it always was.
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