KCBR Blog
There is nothing like a book high, and I am a book junkie chasing that high. KCBR LLC features non-compensated romance book reviews, free Kindle ebooks, new book release news, book merch, and sales. This site utilizes affiliate links.
Friday, June 29, 2018
NEW RELEASE $25.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD GIVEAWAY: Jackal by Tarryn Fisher & Willow Aster
Jackal is LIVE and FREE on Kindle Unlimited! Are you ready to meet the next End Man?
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2tFqhJF
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/JackalUK
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/JackalAU
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/JackalCA

SYNOPSIS
Jackal Emerson has never taken himself seriously. Dubbed the “orgy king,” he’s renowned for his reputation as the wild End Man. But with the uprising on the horizon and his best friend missing, Jackal is having a hard time living the same carefree existence.
And then he meets a thief and everything changes.
Phoenix Moyo, principal dancer of a notorious ballet company, lives a life of rigidity. When her world collides with Jackal’s, their chemistry is evident to everyone except her. Forced to work with him to steal the most precious commodity of the Regions, she realizes too late that there is no escaping Jackal’s charisma.
When unimaginable crimes come to light, the Regions begin to crumble. No one is safe. Families divide and secrets are exposed, danger running rampant on every side. For some, sacrifice costs everything.
Book 2 in the End of Men Series.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40144365-jackal
TRAILER
Direct Link: https://youtu.be/6jOakiGKEyE
:
EXCERPT
“Without the risk of getting hurt, there is no probability of falling in love,” I tell her. “Vulnerability and love go hand in hand.”
“That must be why all the men are gone.” She smirks. “With that sort of logic, it’s no wonder.”
I take her in—smooth, honey skin that smells like apples, the broad bridge of her nose and arched nostrils. I don’t know how to tell her that back then men were not the romantics. The things we had left of the past: the movies, and the books, and the stories, were things hoped for, not seen.
I lean close so that my mouth is next to her ear, my lips brushing her skin.
“There is no logic in love, little thief. It starts small and grows into something very big and endless. Something you’re willing to die for. Don’t you long to feel something like that? Instead of all the emptiness you’re so used to…”
She pulls back and stares me right in the face. I can’t help myself. The quirky little corner of her mouth is raised like she’s mocking me, probably not the best time to kiss a woman. But I drop my head anyway and kiss her, letting my tongue softly graze her bottom lip. She pauses, her breath sucking in, and then she pushes away from me. For a moment, it’s just the two of us facing each other on the dance floor, the cider lights speckling our faces, and then as abruptly as she pulled away, she turns on her heel and leaves. I smile as I watch her go, her steps unsure like she’s dizzy.
“Dancers don’t get dizzy,” I call after her.
GIFT CARD GIVEAWAY
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Start reading book 1 - FOLSOM - today!
Folsom is LIVE and FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Kl8rpB
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IRsGdH
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2L6ENR8
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2snsMi7
Tarryn Fisher’s Links:
Tarryn Fisher is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of nine novels. Born a sun hater, she currently makes her home in Seattle, Washington with her children, husband, and psychotic husky. Tarryn writes about villains.
Author Links:
Website:
www.tarrynfisher.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/authortarrynfisher
Instagram:
https://instagram.com/tarrynfisher/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/DarkMarkTarryn
Willow Aster’s links:

Willow Aster is the author of True Love Story, In the Fields, Maybe Maby, Fade to Red, and Lilith. She’s also the co-author of Folsom, The End of Men series with Tarryn Fisher. Willow loves nothing more than writing the day away—anywhere will do. Her husband and two children graciously put up with her endless daydreaming and make fun of her for reading while cooking.
Author Links:
Website: www.willowaster.com
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/willowasterauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/WillowAster
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/willowaster1/
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Best of 2018 Romance Book List Winner is on Sale on Amazon!
99 CENTS - SALE ALERT - KINDLE CRACK BOOK REVIEWS FAVORITE! Midnight Blue by L.J. Shen is on sale for 99 cents! Stop what you are doing and one-click this one. This is a limited time sale!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2yx9QE2
Read my spoiler-free review: http://bit.ly/reviewMidnightBlue
Friday, June 22, 2018
NEW RELEASE REVIEW: Craving Mr. Kinky by A.M. Madden and Joanne Schwehm
Check out my spoiler-free review of Craving Mr. Kinky by A.M. Madden and Joanne Schwehm
Craving Mr. Kinky by A.M. Madden and Joanne Schwehm
Publication Date: June 20th, 2018
Series: Mr. Wrong #4
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Mr. Wrong #4
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Here’s a tip: When you least expect it, expect it.
I’d been known to have my share of beautiful women. Usually, I met them in a bar, through a mutual acquaintance, or even when photographing them.
Imagine my surprise when a gorgeous blonde drove her car into mine on the way to a party.
No more than a minute after our run-in, a string of colorful words flew from her mouth in rapid fire.
Unexplainably, the angrier she became the harder I got. All sorts of scenarios played in my head of how I could get her to shut up. I was all for feisty women, but I preferred leaving that for the bedroom—not on the streets of New York.
When I learned she was a school teacher, that worsened my disposition. What man didn’t have a dirty teacher fantasy at one point in his life? I decided it was my turn to teach her a thing or two... or so I thought. Little did I know, Miss Prim-and-Proper would turn the tables on me.
She called me Mr. Kinky, and that was fine with me.
Lesson learned: Desire always trumps logic.
Craving Mr. Kinky
© 2018 A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm
Read Today!
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2MFCiGI
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2t6Bgvd
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2LZz9R0
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2LZz9R0
iBooks: https://apple.co/2LTanSq
Nook: http://bit.ly/2I50DT4
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2HS1PsB
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Enr1Wu
Universal eBook Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/31MNgD
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Enr1Wu
Universal eBook Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/31MNgD
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Enr1Wu
REVIEW OF CRAVING MR. KINKY
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Craving Mr. Kinky is the fourth installment in the Mr. Wrong series of interconnected stand-alones. Dante is a hot-as-sin Italian photographer who literally smashes into his brother’s best friend and sparks fly. Cassie, a prim and proper elementary school teacher, thinks Dante is out of her league. She’s not like the supermodels that Dante shoots for magazine covers and she can’t understand why he would be attracted to her. Dante awakens a whole new side to Cassie. She starts to crave Dante and his sexy ways, but will the right guy turn out to be all wrong?
Craving Mr. Kinky is a sexy, flirty and fast read with a kinky edge. One click this new one. I have a feeling you might crave the other books in this series after reading this new release.
Craving Mr. Kinky is a sexy, flirty and fast read with a kinky edge. One click this new one. I have a feeling you might crave the other books in this series after reading this new release.
Start the Series of Standalones
Finding Mr. Wrong
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2yIqH7d
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2GJt4dh
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2GH1WYm
iBooks: https://apple.co/2EsmPVt
Nook: http://bit.ly/2GFmsws
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2EtLFEe
Finding Mr. Wrong
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2yIqH7d
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2GJt4dh
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2GH1WYm
iBooks: https://apple.co/2EsmPVt
Nook: http://bit.ly/2GFmsws
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2EtLFEe
Taming Mr. Flirt
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2K16ePV
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IArzdP
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2qfnaW9
iBooks: https://apple.co/2H7VpcH
Nook: http://bit.ly/2GFUHE1
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2uRp70Q
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2K16ePV
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2IArzdP
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2qfnaW9
iBooks: https://apple.co/2H7VpcH
Nook: http://bit.ly/2GFUHE1
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2uRp70Q
Scoring Mr. Romeo
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2tj01EI
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B078YK2418
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B078YK2418
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B078YK2418
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1324235484
Nook: http://bit.ly/2FyVd2s
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/scoring-mr-romeo
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2tj01EI
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B078YK2418
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B078YK2418
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B078YK2418
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1324235484
Nook: http://bit.ly/2FyVd2s
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/scoring-mr-romeo
Excerpt:
Dante
If she wanted to play, I’d play. The tiny black fabric perfectly highlighted the curves of her ass as she ran ahead of me. When she craned her head back to see how far behind I was, her tits looked as though they were ready to escape the scraps shielding them.
Her laughter sounded like a melody as she made it to the deck stairs. It would have been easy to catch her, but seeing Cassie carefree and playful was worth her thinking she’d bested me.
When we were both standing next to the pool, breathing heavy, her a little more winded than me, she snapped my picture. “How does it feel?” she said with friskiness before bringing my camera to her face again for another shot.
Glancing down, I spotted her book. There was no way she could grab it before me, unless she dropped my camera, which I knew, or hoped, she wouldn’t do.
Cassie’s eyes narrowed as I opened the page just before her bookmark. “Ahem.” My eyes scanned the words, and I couldn’t help but grin. Was this the stuff she was into? Who knew?
“Here,” she said with a nervous voice, and extended my camera toward me. “Take it and give me my book.”
“No way, this is too good.” Cassie’s glare turned into a wide-eyed look of horror. “Ethan pushed my body over the edge of his expansive desk, forcing papers to fly to the floor. Heat pooled between my legs, wetness coated my panties as my boss shoved my skirt up to my waist. With gentle force, he grabbed my wrists in his hand before the cool metal of cuffs bound my arms together.” I glanced up, and Cassie’s face was beet red, but I continued. “The thought of getting caught by another employee should have scared me, but instead, it thrilled me. I knew of Ethan’s history, his love of BDSM, and if that’s the way he wanted me, then that’s what I would give him. His deep voice rumbled, ‘I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. Spread your legs and show me how wet you are… ’” I arched a brow and looked at Cassie. “Wow, Ethan’s a kinky fucker.”
She reached forward, offering me my camera. “Can I please have my book back?”
“Will you let me take a picture of you?”
She let out a resigned sigh. “Okay, if you stop reading.”
“Deal.”
Once we made the swap, my camera for her romance novel, she crossed her arms in front of her chest while still hanging on to her book. “How do you want me?”
“That’s a loaded question, but for now set the book down and lie on the chaise.”
Meet the Authors:
A.M. Madden:
A.M. Madden is a USA Today bestselling published author with Loveswept/Random House as well as Ever After Romance.
A.M. is a wife, a mother, an avid reader of romance novels, and now an author.
“It’s all about the HEA.”
A.M. Madden is the author of the popular Back-Up Series, as well as several other contemporary romances. She is also a published author with Loveswept/Random House.
Her debut novel was Back-up, the first in The Back-Up Series. In Back-Up, A.M.’s main character Jack Lair caused readers to swoon. They call themselves #LairLovers, and have been faithful supporters to Jack, as well to the rest of his band, Devil’s Lair.
A.M. truly believes that true love knows no bounds. In her books, she aspires to create fun, sexy, realistic romances that will stay with you after the last page has been turned. She strives to create characters that the reader can relate to and feel as if they know personally.
A self-proclaimed hopeless romantic, she loves getting lost in a good book. She also uses every free moment of her time writing, while spending quality time with her three handsome men. A.M. is a Gemini and an Italian Jersey girl, but despite her Zodiac sign, nationality, or home state, she is very easy going.
She loves the beach, loves to laugh, and loves the idea of love.
Connect with A.M. Madden:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorammadden/
Twitter: @ammadden1
GoodReads: https://goo.gl/bcGFTv
Join her Reader Group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/893157480742443/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ammadden1/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/annmadden585/
https://ammadden.com
Twitter: @ammadden1
GoodReads: https://goo.gl/bcGFTv
Join her Reader Group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/893157480742443/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ammadden1/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/annmadden585/
https://ammadden.com
Joanne Schwehm:
Joanne is a mother and wife and loves spending time with her family. She’s an avid sports watcher and enjoys the occasional round of golf.
Joanne loves to write and read romance. She believes everyone should have romance in their lives and hopes her books bring joy and happiness to readers who enjoy modern day fairy tales and breathless moments.
She is an independent romance author and has written several contemporary romance novels, including The Prescott Series, Ryker, A Heart’s Forgiveness, The Critic and The Chance series.
Joanne looks forward to sharing more love stories in her future novels.
Connect with Joanne:
FB: www.facebook.com/joanneschwehm
FB Group Page: www.facebook.com/groups/joanneschwehmsreaders/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/JSchwehmBooks
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/nyy2fan/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/jschwehmbooks/
Spotify: www.open.spotify.com/user/1293937868
YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UCozpgcntD2yLP9QtM09XuYQ
GR Reading Group: www.goodreads.com/group/show/156533-joanne-schwehm-s-romantic-reading-friends
Newsletter: www.eepurl.com/cgUvSf
FB Group Page: www.facebook.com/groups/joanneschwehmsreaders/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/JSchwehmBooks
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/nyy2fan/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/jschwehmbooks/
Spotify: www.open.spotify.com/user/1293937868
YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UCozpgcntD2yLP9QtM09XuYQ
GR Reading Group: www.goodreads.com/group/show/156533-joanne-schwehm-s-romantic-reading-friends
Newsletter: www.eepurl.com/cgUvSf
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
GIFT CARD & SIGNED PAPERBACK GIVEAWAYS ON KINDLE CRACK BOOK REVIEWS BLOG
Enter for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of Salt by Mara White in my reader group Kindle Crack Book Reviews Daily Fix Group.
Enter for a chance to win a gift card on my Facebook page Kindle Crack Book Reviews to celebrate the release of That Guy by Kim Jones!
COVER REVEAL: His True Queen by Jodi Ellen Malpas
I loved The Controversial Princess and can't wait to get my hands on the royal conclusion. His True Queen (Smoke & Mirrors Duology Book 2) by Jodi Ellen Malpas will release on 8/7.
A beautiful, defiant princess.
A renowned, sinfully gorgeous Hollywood actor.
A love affair that is sure to rock the British Monarchy…and the world.
Their love affair began intensely and passionately. Princess Adeline and Josh Jameson knew any future together was impossible—her status as a princess and his standing as a Hollywood heartthrob dictated that. But the heights of pleasure they could take each other to were wildly unanticipated by them both.
Josh’s absolute disregard for Adeline’s status quickly drew her into his hedonistic world. And her perfectly worn mask and false façade captivated Josh to the point of obsession.
The boundaries became blurred. The physical became emotional. Their hearts became entwined.
But a cruel turn of events rips their worlds apart and Adeline is more bound than ever by the protocol and expectations her title commands. The army of royal advisors who guard the secrets and scandals of the Monarchy will go to unthinkable lengths to keep the smoke and mirrors in place…and Josh away from Adeline. She knows the power she possesses comes with agonizing sacrifices. Walking away from Josh devastates her…but it keeps him safe from the corrupt institution that has ruled her life.
Yet Josh refuses to lose the woman who has consumed him so completely, distorted his boundaries, and stripped him of all sensibility.
Will the power of the British Monarchy triumph? Or will Adeline and Josh’s fierce love for each other change the course of history?
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2I3wdkd
iBooks: https://apple.co/2yubtCw
Nook: https://goo.gl/vo8W7F
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2yrQtME
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2ti7xPe
Add to Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2M7a470
Read The Controversial Princess (Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1) Today!
Read Today!
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2LjQEvN
Audible: https://amzn.to/2s15G0L
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Princess-Amz-UK
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2vOysqB
iBooks: https://apple.co/2rrUbiJ
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2GBwJ80
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2lntaL2
Add to BookBub: http://bit.ly/2CpdXD7
Add to BookBub: http://bit.ly/2CpdXD7
About the Author:
Jodi Ellen Malpas wrote her debut series, The This Man Trilogy, in secret, worried about what people might think if they knew what her imagination was capable of. She was shocked herself. But she finally found the courage to unleash her creative streak and self-published THIS MAN – the first book of the This Man Trilogy – in October 2012. She took a chance on the story with a hero who soon became one of modern day fictions most prolific alpha male characters. Jesse Ward – also affectionately known as The Lord of The Manor, sparked incredible reactions from women across the globe and catapulted Jodi into the world of women’s fiction.
Jodi went on to self-publish the second book in the trilogy, Beneath This Man in Jan 2013, just before Grand Central Publishing, part of the Hachette Book Group, picked up the popular trilogy and the unknown Jodi. The third book of the trilogy, This Man Confessed, took Jodi to the top of the bestsellers lists, earning her the proud title of #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. This Man has since been voted one of the top romance novels of all time.
With so much love, enthusiasm and a thirst for her words from her readers, Jodi suddenly wasn’t afraid of her imagination anymore. She went on to write The One Night Trilogy with the delectable and mysterious Miller Hart, and stole the hearts of her readers once again. Her first stand-alone novel, THE PROTECTOR, released in September 2016 and has since been nominated for a Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. Jodi’s next stand-alone novel. THE FORBIDDEN, is set for release in August 2017.
All seven of her published novels have hit the New York Times best sellers list – as well as the Sunday Times list and various international best seller lists. Her work is now published in over 24 languages across the world.
Jodi was born and raised in the Midlands town of Northampton, England, where she lives with her two boys and a beagle. She is a self-professed daydreamer, a mojito addict, is famous for her obsession with Converse, and has a terrible weak spot for Alpha Males. Writing powerful love stories and creating addictive characters has become her passion – a passion she now shares with her devoted readers.
Jodi went on to self-publish the second book in the trilogy, Beneath This Man in Jan 2013, just before Grand Central Publishing, part of the Hachette Book Group, picked up the popular trilogy and the unknown Jodi. The third book of the trilogy, This Man Confessed, took Jodi to the top of the bestsellers lists, earning her the proud title of #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. This Man has since been voted one of the top romance novels of all time.
With so much love, enthusiasm and a thirst for her words from her readers, Jodi suddenly wasn’t afraid of her imagination anymore. She went on to write The One Night Trilogy with the delectable and mysterious Miller Hart, and stole the hearts of her readers once again. Her first stand-alone novel, THE PROTECTOR, released in September 2016 and has since been nominated for a Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. Jodi’s next stand-alone novel. THE FORBIDDEN, is set for release in August 2017.
All seven of her published novels have hit the New York Times best sellers list – as well as the Sunday Times list and various international best seller lists. Her work is now published in over 24 languages across the world.
Jodi was born and raised in the Midlands town of Northampton, England, where she lives with her two boys and a beagle. She is a self-professed daydreamer, a mojito addict, is famous for her obsession with Converse, and has a terrible weak spot for Alpha Males. Writing powerful love stories and creating addictive characters has become her passion – a passion she now shares with her devoted readers.
Connect with Jodi:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JodiEllenMalpas/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JodiEllenMalpas
YouTube: https://goo.gl/2kGLbt
Instagram: http://www.jodiellenmalpas.co.uk/instagram/
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
READ CHAPTER ONE + SPOILER-FREE REVIEW: Salt by Mara White
Read the first chapter of Salt by Mara White. Also, check out my spoiler-free review. This new urban erotic romance is not to be missed!
Salana Livingston did everything right, from taking her multi-vitamin to kneeling before bed to say her prayers every night. She followed the path her parents had planned before she was born, never questioned the role until the day a bus-load of sweaty kids from the Bronx got dropped at her parent’s horse farm.
Tiago Alcazar knew a life of hard knocks. An incarcerated father, a missing and strung-out mother who left him to rely on his aged grandmother for most of his life.
Tiago runs the mean streets of the neighborhood that raised him, living hand-to-mouth, everyday a gift, if he can just make it.
Burdened by a world that only wants to see her as perfect, Salana finds her greatest confidant in a boy society has labeled as worthless. Their paths cross too many times for their stubborn hearts to deny the connection, but can the delinquent and the debutant defy the odds and overcome the social constructs that condemn them?Tiago Alcazar knew a life of hard knocks. An incarcerated father, a missing and strung-out mother who left him to rely on his aged grandmother for most of his life.
Tiago runs the mean streets of the neighborhood that raised him, living hand-to-mouth, everyday a gift, if he can just make it.
#NewRelease #Salt #MaraWhite #AHeightsNovel #NowLive #MustRead
Buy Links:
AMAZON - FREE on Kindle Unlimited https://amzn.to/2JaEN1G
Goodreads - https://bit.ly/2LVx1dJ
Review of Salt
Tiago
“I’m telling you, homie! As soon as this bitch-ass arm heals we’re going back to Connecticut. You got the code for the garage, we roll out a Lamborghini and we’re set for life mother fucker!” They were sitting in Chico’s living room. The air was hot and sticky circulated by only a lazy ceiling fan that was covered in years of greasy dust and the dangling remnants of some bygone party streamers. They’d ordered a pizza and demolished the whole thing. Chico was only gaining more of gut rendered immobile by his collarbone break. He had pizza sauce on his tank top. A real gem. A catch—this kid. But the horse ranch trip, the fall, and Tiago’s ride home from the princess were still high on their list of the most exciting things to happen that summer. They rehashed it all, spilling the details to their friends.
“I don’t want to steal her car. I liked that chick,” Tiago said in weak protest. He flipped through the channels now that Chico’s mom had gone out to get groceries and relieved them from endless Telemundo. He left the television on a basketball game and did his best slam dunk swoosh leaping up from the couch.
“Mano, we won’t be stealing from her really if you think about it. That’s her parent’s car—not hers. And what the fuck would she care, she’s got so much money anyway? We’d be doing them a favor taking one of those off their hands.”
“That’s pushing it, Chico. Why don’t we just steal a different car from someone else in the same neighborhood?”
“Cause you got the code for her garage fuck face! Jesus Christ!” Chico hit his forehead exaggeratedly. “How many cars can one family even drive?”
“What you don’t have the guts to break in?”
“Neither do you, bitch. Can you help me take my shirt off so I can take a shower?”
“Fucking baby, you are on your own for that shit cause you stink. Check you later. I gotta go home and check on my Ma anyway.”
“I’d help you if it was the other way around!”
“Never will be, cause I ain’t fucking stupid, bro!” Tiago punched Chico hard in the arm that wasn’t in a sling. He got up and threw the remote at Chico’s belly. “I’ll fucking go if you park that shit downtown and the fuck away from my building. I’ll drive it, but I don’t want to sell it.”
“Deal!” Chico said, smiling triumphantly. Tiago wasn’t giving him a bath. He had to draw the line somewhere.
The tickets for the metro north just about cleaned them out. There must have been irony in the deal, spend all your money on transportation to go steal something that could help you get around and then sell it to make money. Tiago was so nervous his sweat stunk, Chico however, was riding on cloud nine, already ticking off the list of things he was going to buy in his head. Tiago would buy a washing machine for his grandmother, so she wouldn’t have to lug laundry down to the corner, or wash it in the tub with her arthritic hands like she sometimes did.
“’Mijo, there was no laundromat when I was growing up. My mother scrubbed the clothes on a board in the yard, hung it to dry on a line between two trees.”
“Look at your hands, Ma. You not even sixty but your hands are eighty. That’s why.” He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed his book bag off the back of the chair. “I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”
Tiago had spent countless hours in school daydreaming about being able to provide for his grandmother. Visions of washing machines with a red bow on top, a new refrigerator that didn’t drip or smell. He never imagined what he’d get for himself, just fantasize about the amenities that would make her life easier.
“Shit, this train is huge. The seats look like couches!” Chico couldn’t play it cool to save his life. The kid was green as fuck, not a seasoned car thief. The only thing Chico was good at was remembering stats on baseball cards and eating everyone under the table.
“Bro, we’re trying to not call attention to ourselves, you hear me?” Tiago sat down by the window, the uneasy feeling creeping through his belly. They stuck out like sore thumbs with the evening commuters. Everyone in suits and blazers, reading newspapers, scrolling through stocks on their phones. How could they pull off a car theft with so many witnesses? Every single one of these jerks would remember them. Nobody who looked like them was on their way to Connecticut. Tiago’s gut felt heavier with each mile gained toward their destination. How fucked up was it that they were gonna go after the girl who’d been so kind to them? Rip her off in return? No wonder people branded them as thugs, maybe that’s what they were.
They filed off the train with a million commuters, it was nearing dark when they arrived and everyone rushed to the park and ride lot to get home to their families. Must be nice, Tiago thought. A house and a car, back yard and people acting happy you came home, a jumping dog, kids with spelling tests to show you. Probably a fucking pool to swim in. He’d seen it in the movies and on TV. That wasn’t what happened in his neighborhood. Broken families were the norm, functional ones, the exception. At least half of his friends were being raised by their grandparents. A parent in jail, addicted to drugs, never made it to the States, was plain old down-on-their-luck, were the stories he heard on his block. Domestic violence, child abuse, neglect—those were the cuts that tore families apart.
The park and ride lot emptied just as fast as the train to leave Tiago and Chico standing under the bright sweep of street light looking caught in the headlights. Tiago started walking toward the street and Chico followed him. He had a good sense of direction and he knew Salana’s house, her estate, was walking distance from the train station. Walking distance in a town where nobody walked. Again they stuck out like strobe lights ambling along the side of a residential street with no fucking sidewalk.
“These people probably gonna call the police on us just because of how we look. Probably got cameras set up.”
They walked for twenty minutes, the houses bordering the streets becoming more and more opulent, the gates taller, the security tighter. Tiago recognized Salana’s house as soon as they neared. Not because he’d cased the place to steal, but because he’d wanted to see her again, to return to the spot under different circumstances. He’d imagined himself as her boyfriend countless times in his head.
“It’s this one up here with the all the lights on. How we gonna stay hidden when they got that place lit up like a stadium?”
“We crawl on the border and then stand up and sprint to get to the garage.” Chico flicked his cigarette and the cherry bounced on the street and spewed sparks. The kid had watched too many action flicks.
“Bet the fucking gate is wired,” Tiago said. He was getting cold feet.
“We move fast. That way if we trigger the gate, by the time they get there to check it out, we’re basically already in the garage with our pick of cars.” Tiago thought Chico was being unrealistically optimistic. Grand Theft Auto had inflated his ego to carjacker extraordinaire, when in reality the most he’d ever stolen was a handful of cash out of the collection plate at church. Their luck peaked in the unexpected arrival of a car, it’s lights looming larger out of the darkness. The driver signaled and pulled into Salana’s driveway. A young man stuck his head out and said something into the intercom. He smiled like a million bucks and Tiago already hated him. Fucking Hitler haircut, first car—a Tesla. But what really made him want to smash the guy’s head in was the idea of him touching Salana, her laughing at his jokes. Tiago would fight with bloody fists for her, that douche would throw his money in the air as a distraction and start crying before someone even hit him.
The boys crouched and ran, slipped through the gates right before they closed. As they approached the house, it became apparent they’d crashed some kind of party. The half-moon driveway was crowded with parked cars, not a Ford or a Toyota in sight. The sickest cars Tiago and Chico had ever seen. They stared openly, the lighted up mansion, the driveway turned car showroom. Drake was sounding from a top of the line stereo reverberating through the walls and bursting forth into the still night and the silence of the suburbs. They were slow to process that this was real life. Sure they’d seen it in music videos and placed themselves in the role of protagonist in plenty of daydreams, why not? Honey’s with string bikinis, pouring out label Champagne into the hot tub, the ice and gold, the cars, the clothes, the sunglasses that cost as much as their family’s annual food budget. But that was fantasy and this was someone’s real life.
“Salt is a fucking pimp, bro. She’s straight up balling that bitch,” Chico said, jaw on the floor.
“Good. They won’t even miss the car,” Tiago said. His voice was full of rancor. He felt jealously swim in his bloodstream—toxic—like the sewage that overflowed into the Hudson during a rainstorm. He strutted across the brightly lit, meticulously manicured lawns like a boss, pimp limp fired, repping the dignity of who he was in the face of this great wealth.
“Yo, Tiago, wait up!” Chico yelled. Chico’s ambling limp was real on account of his one arm still braced in a sling and useless. They were a ramshackle crew. No guns, knives or experience, just hood attitude bolstered by the accomplishment of seeing the task this far through—they’d made it to Connecticut, it was worth something.
Tiago’s hair stood on end and nerves seesawed in his stomach. He wasn’t afraid, but rather on high alert, excited, reckless and ruthless, ready to take someone down just for looking at him the wrong way. A car door slammed and Chico and Tiago both froze. A tall blond guy in a sweater vest looked at them inquisitively.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked. The guy threw his joint to the ground. Tiago could smell the sweet burn of weed, but to his seasoned nose he could also tell it wasn’t good. Not like the premium he could get these rich kids. Sell it for more, take them all for a ride and then roll around in cash like a dog in mud from the profits.
How the hell would they pull off taking a car now? Tiago didn’t even know what they were there for anymore. What if they missed the last train back to the city? Would they sleep in the station like bums? And what if they got arrested? His grandmother wasn’t capable of making a trip all the way to Connecticut to bail him out for trespassing.
“Salana around?” Tiago asked the guy staring them down. The way the words took a bite out of his heart made him realize stealing cars was pretense all along. He’d only wanted to see her, to stroke her blonde hair, to rub his nose against her little one and have his insides turned out. But if he had to break the law to see her, he would.
“It’s her fucking party. She know you’re coming?”
The guy was wearing loafers. He had to answer to a guy wearing loafers and a sweater vest. A fucking asshole Mr. Rogers was what he was.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Chico screeched at him. Tiago’s pants felt heavy, his kicks impossibly clunky, he couldn’t remember if he’s put on cologne or deodorant for that matter. His shirt was clean, but it was old and suddenly felt so cheap to have Billionaire Boy’s Club emblazoned across the front of his chest, when he was in the presence of the real Billionaire’s Club. It didn’t help that the guy stared at them like unsavory rats that had wandered across his clean pasture.
“Can you get Salana for us? Tell her we’re in the garage when she gets a chance?”
“Why don’t you wait here,” the guy said quickly texting on his phone. Tiago walked toward the garage anyway; he couldn’t stand to be scrutinized by the judgmental mother fucker anymore.
“Ti, bro. I swear to fucking God you lost your mind!” Chico said as Santiago disabled the alarm on the garage. There were cameras, two he could see plainly right over the door. “Let’s bounce. This is crazy,” Chico said. He didn’t want to go to jail he liked his mother’s cooking too much. He loved sitting in the sun and playing basketball in the park for twenty-three hours a day as opposed to one. “I’m out!” Chico said, turned on a dime and ran.
“Ditch me, why don’t you, when the going gets tough?” Tiago wanted to scream, Unleash the hounds! But he wasn’t so mean he’d want his friend to pee his pants.
Tiago decided to go through the motions. He chose the Rover for the resale ease and value. It was unlocked and the door opened smooth like honey. All the keys were in the lockbox by the door, just as they had been when Salana did it all in front of him. Like a temptress, like an invitation to take one.
Here’s the big red juicy apple. I know you’re starving. Bite it!
There was something about the feel and smell of brand new that was extraordinarily pleasing, that gave an air of authority and power without doing a thing. Wealth and pipe dreams of attaining it could be as addictive as a drug and probably just as dangerous. He was about to slide into the driver’s seat when someone grabbed him from behind. He cursed, angry at himself for having let his guard down. One held him back against the car, while the other, the blond, knocked his fist into Tiago’s face, hitting him just below the nose. Not a trained fighter, just beginner’s luck that he made contact. It was a weak punch but it landed and stung like a bitch. Tiago heaved his shoulders forward to throw off the one he couldn’t see. The taste of blood in his mouth made him vicious and he landed a punch right in Vest and Loafer’s gut that promptly knocked the wind out of him. Tiago was used to fighting dirty and street. He’d been in scuffles on the corner since first grade. The boys in Connecticut had never taken a real beating.
“Call the police!” the guy shouted at his friend.
“Don’t fucking call the police!” Tiago responded almost casually. “Why call the cops? Because we hit each other? Come on! Don’t be a pussy.”
“Then get the fuck out of here right now! Leave!” Loafer’s feathers were ruffled, his face was red and his hair disheveled.
“Did you tell Salana like I told you too, bitch?”
“I’m right here,” she said. Salana walked into the garage and put her hand on Loafer’s arm.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” Tiago said. “Alone.”
He wiped his hand across his mouth, it felt warm and burned. There was blood on the back of his hand and he spat blood on the floor gaining a look of fury from the handsome boys.
“Brandt, just go. It’s fine, I know him.”
“If you fucking touch her, you’re a dead man,” Brandt pointed his finger at Santiago like his threat carried weight. Tiago spat again. “Piece of shit, thug,” Brandt muttered as he turned to go.
Once alone, the silence between them rose up and expanded like leavened bread in an oven, filling even the dark corners and the ceiling above them. They stood ten feet away from one another and took the other in. Tiago clenched his fists and Salana watched blood drip from his split lip. She cut across the space first and grabbed his chin so as to better inspect his face.
“You’re bleeding,” she said. “Come inside, we can put something on it.”
“Give me a minute to cool down so I don’t kill your friend, Salt.”
“Why did you come here, Tiago? You should have at least called.”
“To steal a car. You let me see that code. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist.”
She crossed her arms across her chest and looked relatively unaffected by what he said.
“Take one if you want, but I’m sure there will be repercussions.”
“Naw, when I got here, I realized what I really wanted was to steal you instead.”
He saw her pupils dilate. He heard how her breath caught in her chest. He felt tingly all over like he might pass the fuck out at her feet after one bitchass punch.
“Come on, let’s get your face cleaned up.” She took his hand and led him around the side of the huge estate.
“We’ll just go downstairs and that way we can avoid Brandt and the others.” Salana punched in another code and allowed Tiago to see it. He felt like he had to memorize those numbers because they were symbolic of her letting him in. Seeing those numbers meant something. Code for: trust. Cipher for: I accept you just as you are.
He followed her down a sweeping staircase and into what looked like a basement entertainment room. A pool table, leather couches, a full bar and a fireplace. Basically a space he and his friends would sacrifice their left nuts for. Salana flicked on stained-glass low hanging lights in the basement room which was bigger than his entire apartment.
“The bathroom is right there, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”
The lights rose by themselves as he stepped into the bathroom, a room so spotless and sparkling it nearly strained his eyes. Salana’s life looked like a Hollywood set whereas his looked like a public service announcement for the dangers of drug use. He ran his hand underwater to wash off the blood.
“Sit up here,” Salana said, patting the counter sink. She ran a white washcloth under warm water and brought it to his lip. “I’m sorry he punched you,” she whispered as she dapped at the gash.
“Probably deserved it,” he said through the towel. “What’s the occasion for the party?”
Salana squirted some ointment on her finger and brought it to his upper lip.
“Oh, my friend Justine’s birthday. She’s upstairs. My parents are in Europe so everyone decided to come here.” She tried to touch the bleeding gash and Tiago grabbed her wrist. She stopped and made eye contact.
“You’re so fucking fine, Salt. I can’t stop thinking about you. I wouldn’t steal from you. I just wanted to see you.” His grip on her wrist was tight, because his confession felt important. He usually let a girl know he was into her with body language, lingering hands and soft words in her ear, but with Salana he told her as if he were in the confessional. “I like you and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”
Who knew honesty could feel like getting run over by a steam roller. Cracking your head open and letting the rabid butterflies escape to fly upwards in a swarm. It was almost too much for him. Butterflies? They were bats and he was a goner.
Her lips were parted and she stared intently at his face. Her blue eyes flared with emotion and his searched her face for even a hint of reciprocation. “I know it ain’t even possible. I just wanted to let you know how I felt, and shit.”
“I—” was all she could get out
“You can go back to your party, back to Branch. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Salana blinked and her eyes were filling with tears. She closed them and leaned into Tiago. He caught her face in his hands and his lips found hers. The kiss was so soft and ghostly like a whisper—almost nothing—until it wasn’t and then, it was real, it was perfect, it was fucking everything.
She gasped when he took her whole mouth, prying open the seam of her lips with his tongue. Tiago kissed like a carnivore. Wolf-mouth. No rich-pansy orthodontist’s dream. He came from real life. His cut was the ghetto. He kissed projects and food stamps and lives that were cut short. He kissed give.it.all.to.me.now because punk-ass-bitches steal what doesn’t belong to them. His hands went to her hair, soft like silk and cool like the flip side of a pillow. He wanted to eat her, make a meal out of her flesh and touch the raw center of her heart after he’d consumed her.
“Fuck,” he whispered into her mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
His dick was already hard, pressing against his jeans with an urgency that was painful. He’d blow his load from her tongue alone like a fucking kid looking at a Hustler under the covers with a flashlight.
“God, I want you so bad,” he lamented. Was he kissing for the first time? No, but it fucking felt like it.
His fingers speared through her hair cupping her ears and the back of her skull as he devoured her mouth and pulled her to him, registering nothing, only desperate for more. Tiago hopped down from the counter, scooped Salana up and placed her where he’d been. Jerking her forward by the hips he brought her flush with his erection. Salana opened her eyes wide suddenly, the blue piercing right through him. Her eye contact sent a surge of power to his groin. He leaned into her again and thumbed her nipples through her white cotton shirt. Salana tipped her head back and mewled. The heat coming from her center made him lose control. He couldn’t stand how erotic she looked, head thrown back, nipples tipped to the ceiling and her long hair almost touching the sink behind her. His blood smeared on her full lips made his stomach muscles clench with something forbidden and primal.
“Stop,” she said still kissing him. “Stop!” she pushed at his chest this time and he backed all the way up to the wall.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Shit, Salana. I’m sorry, I lost control.” His longing was so fierce that kissing her felt like survival. He was the hunter, she was the doe. He didn’t want to kill her, but he wanted to make the damn shot even if it killed him in the process.
She shook her head and wiped at her mouth with her fingers.
His chest heaved like he’d been running, but he was standing there in her bathroom, palms upturned like a fucking idiot. That kiss meant the world to him.
“I’ll show myself out. I shouldn’t have come.”
“I’m telling you, homie! As soon as this bitch-ass arm heals we’re going back to Connecticut. You got the code for the garage, we roll out a Lamborghini and we’re set for life mother fucker!” They were sitting in Chico’s living room. The air was hot and sticky circulated by only a lazy ceiling fan that was covered in years of greasy dust and the dangling remnants of some bygone party streamers. They’d ordered a pizza and demolished the whole thing. Chico was only gaining more of gut rendered immobile by his collarbone break. He had pizza sauce on his tank top. A real gem. A catch—this kid. But the horse ranch trip, the fall, and Tiago’s ride home from the princess were still high on their list of the most exciting things to happen that summer. They rehashed it all, spilling the details to their friends.
“I don’t want to steal her car. I liked that chick,” Tiago said in weak protest. He flipped through the channels now that Chico’s mom had gone out to get groceries and relieved them from endless Telemundo. He left the television on a basketball game and did his best slam dunk swoosh leaping up from the couch.
“Mano, we won’t be stealing from her really if you think about it. That’s her parent’s car—not hers. And what the fuck would she care, she’s got so much money anyway? We’d be doing them a favor taking one of those off their hands.”
“That’s pushing it, Chico. Why don’t we just steal a different car from someone else in the same neighborhood?”
“Cause you got the code for her garage fuck face! Jesus Christ!” Chico hit his forehead exaggeratedly. “How many cars can one family even drive?”
“What you don’t have the guts to break in?”
“Neither do you, bitch. Can you help me take my shirt off so I can take a shower?”
“Fucking baby, you are on your own for that shit cause you stink. Check you later. I gotta go home and check on my Ma anyway.”
“I’d help you if it was the other way around!”
“Never will be, cause I ain’t fucking stupid, bro!” Tiago punched Chico hard in the arm that wasn’t in a sling. He got up and threw the remote at Chico’s belly. “I’ll fucking go if you park that shit downtown and the fuck away from my building. I’ll drive it, but I don’t want to sell it.”
“Deal!” Chico said, smiling triumphantly. Tiago wasn’t giving him a bath. He had to draw the line somewhere.
The tickets for the metro north just about cleaned them out. There must have been irony in the deal, spend all your money on transportation to go steal something that could help you get around and then sell it to make money. Tiago was so nervous his sweat stunk, Chico however, was riding on cloud nine, already ticking off the list of things he was going to buy in his head. Tiago would buy a washing machine for his grandmother, so she wouldn’t have to lug laundry down to the corner, or wash it in the tub with her arthritic hands like she sometimes did.
“’Mijo, there was no laundromat when I was growing up. My mother scrubbed the clothes on a board in the yard, hung it to dry on a line between two trees.”
“Look at your hands, Ma. You not even sixty but your hands are eighty. That’s why.” He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed his book bag off the back of the chair. “I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”
Tiago had spent countless hours in school daydreaming about being able to provide for his grandmother. Visions of washing machines with a red bow on top, a new refrigerator that didn’t drip or smell. He never imagined what he’d get for himself, just fantasize about the amenities that would make her life easier.
“Shit, this train is huge. The seats look like couches!” Chico couldn’t play it cool to save his life. The kid was green as fuck, not a seasoned car thief. The only thing Chico was good at was remembering stats on baseball cards and eating everyone under the table.
“Bro, we’re trying to not call attention to ourselves, you hear me?” Tiago sat down by the window, the uneasy feeling creeping through his belly. They stuck out like sore thumbs with the evening commuters. Everyone in suits and blazers, reading newspapers, scrolling through stocks on their phones. How could they pull off a car theft with so many witnesses? Every single one of these jerks would remember them. Nobody who looked like them was on their way to Connecticut. Tiago’s gut felt heavier with each mile gained toward their destination. How fucked up was it that they were gonna go after the girl who’d been so kind to them? Rip her off in return? No wonder people branded them as thugs, maybe that’s what they were.
They filed off the train with a million commuters, it was nearing dark when they arrived and everyone rushed to the park and ride lot to get home to their families. Must be nice, Tiago thought. A house and a car, back yard and people acting happy you came home, a jumping dog, kids with spelling tests to show you. Probably a fucking pool to swim in. He’d seen it in the movies and on TV. That wasn’t what happened in his neighborhood. Broken families were the norm, functional ones, the exception. At least half of his friends were being raised by their grandparents. A parent in jail, addicted to drugs, never made it to the States, was plain old down-on-their-luck, were the stories he heard on his block. Domestic violence, child abuse, neglect—those were the cuts that tore families apart.
The park and ride lot emptied just as fast as the train to leave Tiago and Chico standing under the bright sweep of street light looking caught in the headlights. Tiago started walking toward the street and Chico followed him. He had a good sense of direction and he knew Salana’s house, her estate, was walking distance from the train station. Walking distance in a town where nobody walked. Again they stuck out like strobe lights ambling along the side of a residential street with no fucking sidewalk.
“These people probably gonna call the police on us just because of how we look. Probably got cameras set up.”
They walked for twenty minutes, the houses bordering the streets becoming more and more opulent, the gates taller, the security tighter. Tiago recognized Salana’s house as soon as they neared. Not because he’d cased the place to steal, but because he’d wanted to see her again, to return to the spot under different circumstances. He’d imagined himself as her boyfriend countless times in his head.
“It’s this one up here with the all the lights on. How we gonna stay hidden when they got that place lit up like a stadium?”
“We crawl on the border and then stand up and sprint to get to the garage.” Chico flicked his cigarette and the cherry bounced on the street and spewed sparks. The kid had watched too many action flicks.
“Bet the fucking gate is wired,” Tiago said. He was getting cold feet.
“We move fast. That way if we trigger the gate, by the time they get there to check it out, we’re basically already in the garage with our pick of cars.” Tiago thought Chico was being unrealistically optimistic. Grand Theft Auto had inflated his ego to carjacker extraordinaire, when in reality the most he’d ever stolen was a handful of cash out of the collection plate at church. Their luck peaked in the unexpected arrival of a car, it’s lights looming larger out of the darkness. The driver signaled and pulled into Salana’s driveway. A young man stuck his head out and said something into the intercom. He smiled like a million bucks and Tiago already hated him. Fucking Hitler haircut, first car—a Tesla. But what really made him want to smash the guy’s head in was the idea of him touching Salana, her laughing at his jokes. Tiago would fight with bloody fists for her, that douche would throw his money in the air as a distraction and start crying before someone even hit him.
The boys crouched and ran, slipped through the gates right before they closed. As they approached the house, it became apparent they’d crashed some kind of party. The half-moon driveway was crowded with parked cars, not a Ford or a Toyota in sight. The sickest cars Tiago and Chico had ever seen. They stared openly, the lighted up mansion, the driveway turned car showroom. Drake was sounding from a top of the line stereo reverberating through the walls and bursting forth into the still night and the silence of the suburbs. They were slow to process that this was real life. Sure they’d seen it in music videos and placed themselves in the role of protagonist in plenty of daydreams, why not? Honey’s with string bikinis, pouring out label Champagne into the hot tub, the ice and gold, the cars, the clothes, the sunglasses that cost as much as their family’s annual food budget. But that was fantasy and this was someone’s real life.
“Salt is a fucking pimp, bro. She’s straight up balling that bitch,” Chico said, jaw on the floor.
“Good. They won’t even miss the car,” Tiago said. His voice was full of rancor. He felt jealously swim in his bloodstream—toxic—like the sewage that overflowed into the Hudson during a rainstorm. He strutted across the brightly lit, meticulously manicured lawns like a boss, pimp limp fired, repping the dignity of who he was in the face of this great wealth.
“Yo, Tiago, wait up!” Chico yelled. Chico’s ambling limp was real on account of his one arm still braced in a sling and useless. They were a ramshackle crew. No guns, knives or experience, just hood attitude bolstered by the accomplishment of seeing the task this far through—they’d made it to Connecticut, it was worth something.
Tiago’s hair stood on end and nerves seesawed in his stomach. He wasn’t afraid, but rather on high alert, excited, reckless and ruthless, ready to take someone down just for looking at him the wrong way. A car door slammed and Chico and Tiago both froze. A tall blond guy in a sweater vest looked at them inquisitively.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked. The guy threw his joint to the ground. Tiago could smell the sweet burn of weed, but to his seasoned nose he could also tell it wasn’t good. Not like the premium he could get these rich kids. Sell it for more, take them all for a ride and then roll around in cash like a dog in mud from the profits.
How the hell would they pull off taking a car now? Tiago didn’t even know what they were there for anymore. What if they missed the last train back to the city? Would they sleep in the station like bums? And what if they got arrested? His grandmother wasn’t capable of making a trip all the way to Connecticut to bail him out for trespassing.
“Salana around?” Tiago asked the guy staring them down. The way the words took a bite out of his heart made him realize stealing cars was pretense all along. He’d only wanted to see her, to stroke her blonde hair, to rub his nose against her little one and have his insides turned out. But if he had to break the law to see her, he would.
“It’s her fucking party. She know you’re coming?”
The guy was wearing loafers. He had to answer to a guy wearing loafers and a sweater vest. A fucking asshole Mr. Rogers was what he was.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Chico screeched at him. Tiago’s pants felt heavy, his kicks impossibly clunky, he couldn’t remember if he’s put on cologne or deodorant for that matter. His shirt was clean, but it was old and suddenly felt so cheap to have Billionaire Boy’s Club emblazoned across the front of his chest, when he was in the presence of the real Billionaire’s Club. It didn’t help that the guy stared at them like unsavory rats that had wandered across his clean pasture.
“Can you get Salana for us? Tell her we’re in the garage when she gets a chance?”
“Why don’t you wait here,” the guy said quickly texting on his phone. Tiago walked toward the garage anyway; he couldn’t stand to be scrutinized by the judgmental mother fucker anymore.
“Ti, bro. I swear to fucking God you lost your mind!” Chico said as Santiago disabled the alarm on the garage. There were cameras, two he could see plainly right over the door. “Let’s bounce. This is crazy,” Chico said. He didn’t want to go to jail he liked his mother’s cooking too much. He loved sitting in the sun and playing basketball in the park for twenty-three hours a day as opposed to one. “I’m out!” Chico said, turned on a dime and ran.
“Ditch me, why don’t you, when the going gets tough?” Tiago wanted to scream, Unleash the hounds! But he wasn’t so mean he’d want his friend to pee his pants.
Tiago decided to go through the motions. He chose the Rover for the resale ease and value. It was unlocked and the door opened smooth like honey. All the keys were in the lockbox by the door, just as they had been when Salana did it all in front of him. Like a temptress, like an invitation to take one.
Here’s the big red juicy apple. I know you’re starving. Bite it!
There was something about the feel and smell of brand new that was extraordinarily pleasing, that gave an air of authority and power without doing a thing. Wealth and pipe dreams of attaining it could be as addictive as a drug and probably just as dangerous. He was about to slide into the driver’s seat when someone grabbed him from behind. He cursed, angry at himself for having let his guard down. One held him back against the car, while the other, the blond, knocked his fist into Tiago’s face, hitting him just below the nose. Not a trained fighter, just beginner’s luck that he made contact. It was a weak punch but it landed and stung like a bitch. Tiago heaved his shoulders forward to throw off the one he couldn’t see. The taste of blood in his mouth made him vicious and he landed a punch right in Vest and Loafer’s gut that promptly knocked the wind out of him. Tiago was used to fighting dirty and street. He’d been in scuffles on the corner since first grade. The boys in Connecticut had never taken a real beating.
“Call the police!” the guy shouted at his friend.
“Don’t fucking call the police!” Tiago responded almost casually. “Why call the cops? Because we hit each other? Come on! Don’t be a pussy.”
“Then get the fuck out of here right now! Leave!” Loafer’s feathers were ruffled, his face was red and his hair disheveled.
“Did you tell Salana like I told you too, bitch?”
“I’m right here,” she said. Salana walked into the garage and put her hand on Loafer’s arm.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” Tiago said. “Alone.”
He wiped his hand across his mouth, it felt warm and burned. There was blood on the back of his hand and he spat blood on the floor gaining a look of fury from the handsome boys.
“Brandt, just go. It’s fine, I know him.”
“If you fucking touch her, you’re a dead man,” Brandt pointed his finger at Santiago like his threat carried weight. Tiago spat again. “Piece of shit, thug,” Brandt muttered as he turned to go.
Once alone, the silence between them rose up and expanded like leavened bread in an oven, filling even the dark corners and the ceiling above them. They stood ten feet away from one another and took the other in. Tiago clenched his fists and Salana watched blood drip from his split lip. She cut across the space first and grabbed his chin so as to better inspect his face.
“You’re bleeding,” she said. “Come inside, we can put something on it.”
“Give me a minute to cool down so I don’t kill your friend, Salt.”
“Why did you come here, Tiago? You should have at least called.”
“To steal a car. You let me see that code. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist.”
She crossed her arms across her chest and looked relatively unaffected by what he said.
“Take one if you want, but I’m sure there will be repercussions.”
“Naw, when I got here, I realized what I really wanted was to steal you instead.”
He saw her pupils dilate. He heard how her breath caught in her chest. He felt tingly all over like he might pass the fuck out at her feet after one bitchass punch.
“Come on, let’s get your face cleaned up.” She took his hand and led him around the side of the huge estate.
“We’ll just go downstairs and that way we can avoid Brandt and the others.” Salana punched in another code and allowed Tiago to see it. He felt like he had to memorize those numbers because they were symbolic of her letting him in. Seeing those numbers meant something. Code for: trust. Cipher for: I accept you just as you are.
He followed her down a sweeping staircase and into what looked like a basement entertainment room. A pool table, leather couches, a full bar and a fireplace. Basically a space he and his friends would sacrifice their left nuts for. Salana flicked on stained-glass low hanging lights in the basement room which was bigger than his entire apartment.
“The bathroom is right there, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”
The lights rose by themselves as he stepped into the bathroom, a room so spotless and sparkling it nearly strained his eyes. Salana’s life looked like a Hollywood set whereas his looked like a public service announcement for the dangers of drug use. He ran his hand underwater to wash off the blood.
“Sit up here,” Salana said, patting the counter sink. She ran a white washcloth under warm water and brought it to his lip. “I’m sorry he punched you,” she whispered as she dapped at the gash.
“Probably deserved it,” he said through the towel. “What’s the occasion for the party?”
Salana squirted some ointment on her finger and brought it to his upper lip.
“Oh, my friend Justine’s birthday. She’s upstairs. My parents are in Europe so everyone decided to come here.” She tried to touch the bleeding gash and Tiago grabbed her wrist. She stopped and made eye contact.
“You’re so fucking fine, Salt. I can’t stop thinking about you. I wouldn’t steal from you. I just wanted to see you.” His grip on her wrist was tight, because his confession felt important. He usually let a girl know he was into her with body language, lingering hands and soft words in her ear, but with Salana he told her as if he were in the confessional. “I like you and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”
Who knew honesty could feel like getting run over by a steam roller. Cracking your head open and letting the rabid butterflies escape to fly upwards in a swarm. It was almost too much for him. Butterflies? They were bats and he was a goner.
Her lips were parted and she stared intently at his face. Her blue eyes flared with emotion and his searched her face for even a hint of reciprocation. “I know it ain’t even possible. I just wanted to let you know how I felt, and shit.”
“I—” was all she could get out
“You can go back to your party, back to Branch. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Salana blinked and her eyes were filling with tears. She closed them and leaned into Tiago. He caught her face in his hands and his lips found hers. The kiss was so soft and ghostly like a whisper—almost nothing—until it wasn’t and then, it was real, it was perfect, it was fucking everything.
She gasped when he took her whole mouth, prying open the seam of her lips with his tongue. Tiago kissed like a carnivore. Wolf-mouth. No rich-pansy orthodontist’s dream. He came from real life. His cut was the ghetto. He kissed projects and food stamps and lives that were cut short. He kissed give.it.all.to.me.now because punk-ass-bitches steal what doesn’t belong to them. His hands went to her hair, soft like silk and cool like the flip side of a pillow. He wanted to eat her, make a meal out of her flesh and touch the raw center of her heart after he’d consumed her.
“Fuck,” he whispered into her mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
His dick was already hard, pressing against his jeans with an urgency that was painful. He’d blow his load from her tongue alone like a fucking kid looking at a Hustler under the covers with a flashlight.
“God, I want you so bad,” he lamented. Was he kissing for the first time? No, but it fucking felt like it.
His fingers speared through her hair cupping her ears and the back of her skull as he devoured her mouth and pulled her to him, registering nothing, only desperate for more. Tiago hopped down from the counter, scooped Salana up and placed her where he’d been. Jerking her forward by the hips he brought her flush with his erection. Salana opened her eyes wide suddenly, the blue piercing right through him. Her eye contact sent a surge of power to his groin. He leaned into her again and thumbed her nipples through her white cotton shirt. Salana tipped her head back and mewled. The heat coming from her center made him lose control. He couldn’t stand how erotic she looked, head thrown back, nipples tipped to the ceiling and her long hair almost touching the sink behind her. His blood smeared on her full lips made his stomach muscles clench with something forbidden and primal.
“Stop,” she said still kissing him. “Stop!” she pushed at his chest this time and he backed all the way up to the wall.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Shit, Salana. I’m sorry, I lost control.” His longing was so fierce that kissing her felt like survival. He was the hunter, she was the doe. He didn’t want to kill her, but he wanted to make the damn shot even if it killed him in the process.
She shook her head and wiped at her mouth with her fingers.
His chest heaved like he’d been running, but he was standing there in her bathroom, palms upturned like a fucking idiot. That kiss meant the world to him.
“I’ll show myself out. I shouldn’t have come.”
Salt by Mara White
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
After reading Maldeamores years ago, I was hooked on Mara White’s books. Salt, Mara’s latest unconventional, forbidden white-hot romance is unputdownable.
Salana and Tiago are complete polar opposites. She's salt and he's pepper. Salana comes from a very privileged, upper-class existence. Tiago is a Latino street thug from the Bronx with no money or future. Their worlds collided and their attraction is as unusual as it is undeniable. Salana and Tiago’s paths continue to cross throughout their lives. The doctor and the drug dealer try to follow their dreams in this epic coming of age story of love and adversity.
I just had a few salty tears hit my Kindle when I reached the end. I’m seriously speechless from Salt and expect to have a book hangover the size of the South Bronx for days. Best of 2018!
This review appears on www.kindlecrack.net, www.facebook.com/kindlecrack, Goodreads, Amazon, Pinterest, Google+ and Twitter.
About Mara White:
Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.
Author Links
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Tuesday, June 12, 2018
NEW RELEASE REVIEW: Unexpected Love Story by Natasha Madison
Check out my spoiler-free review of Unexpected Love Story by Natasha Madison.
When one man’s death exposes a complex web of lies, three couples discover the true meaning of love, loss and redemption.
Gabe
I thought I had it all with the best medical practice in the state and the woman of my dreams.
I wore a smile on my face every single day.
I couldn't wait to watch her walk down the aisle and start our forever, except she never did.
My runaway bride made me realize love isn't worth it.
Crystal
I was the strong one, they said, until two words brought me to my knees.
It was a secret I didn't share with anyone.
A secret that made me promise I’d never fall in love.
I no longer wanted that white picket fence of every woman’s dreams.
Until the unthinkable happened.
What happens when your dreams unexpectedly come true?
This is the story of unexpected love.
Buy Links:
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Review of Unexpected Love Story
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Gabe and Crystal were introduced in the Perfect Love Story (Book 1). After reading the first 1/4 or so of this book, I thought it was going to be a point-of-view retelling of what went down from book one. I was wrong! Gabe and Crystal’s story was so much more; it was unexpected. Unexpected Love Story (Book 2) is the second installment in the Love series. This book pulled on my emotional heartstrings and managed to fog up my Kindle screen. While Unexpected Love Story can be enjoyed as a standalone, I would recommend reading Perfect Love Story first
NEW RELEASE REVIEW: On the Edge by CD Reiss
Check out my spoiler-free review of On the Edge by CD Reiss!
“This series grips you by the throat and refuses to let go—and you’ll be begging for more the entire time.” — Sierra Simone, USA Today Bestselling Author
On the Edge, the next intense installment in The Edge Series from New York Times bestselling author CD Reiss, is available now!
“In Iraq, I promised you a bed of rose petals.” He grabbed my hand under the table, tightening his grip as if he were falling from a precipice and our connection was the only thing saving him from certain death.
“They were beautiful.”
“You smell like apples. Roses were wrong.” There was nothing soft about his tone, but his quiet words were for me alone. “I want everything to be right for you.”
“Caden, look at me.”
I caught his gaze and held it. He was confident. Arrogant. Sure he had a place in the world. And under that was the man who needed me to be that place.
“If I could…” He smiled and shook his head at a silly thought he wanted to dismiss but couldn’t—a contradiction in keeping with the whole man I married. “If I could write my love in the sky, it wouldn’t be big enough. I’d run out of room. I’d fall out of the air trying to say it all.”
He was saying it all.
Every day.
And he was falling out of the sky to do it.
Read On the Edge Today!
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Download book one, Rough Edge Now!
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Download the Prequel Cutting Edge FREE !
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Review of On the Edge
On the Edge by C.D. Reiss
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
4.5 - On the Edge, by CD Reiss, picks up where Rough Edge left off. Caden/Damon is on the edge of losing his mind. Greyson is having a hard time navigating her husband's multiple personalities. She starts to cherry-pick things she likes about the two versions of her husband. Does Greyson really know which version of him she married?
CD Reiss’ latest installment in The Edge series is another dark and intoxicating mix of bi-polar pleasure, pain, and madness. On The Edge was a total binge read. I can't wait to devour the other books in this series. Check out Cutting Edge, the free prequel to get started. I’m on the edge waiting for Broken Edge to release in three weeks. One-click worthy!
About the Author
CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn't pick up she's at the well hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master's degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.
She's frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn't ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
Connect with CD Reiss:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iwpkPQ
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Website: www.cdreiss.com
Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/
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