Keep reading for a sneak peek at Breaking The Chains by Janine Infante Bosco! It releases December 9th!!!
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BLURB:One way or another, all men pay for their crimes. Some do their time locked in a cage, while others meet their due karma without a judge or a jury. My debt to society is almost paid, and soon I’ll be free to get my son the justice he deserves. Justice he wouldn’t be due if only I had done my job as his father and protected him. There’s just one hitch, and her name is Charlotte. The gorgeous and completely inexperienced paralegal’s mission seems to be making me a law-abiding citizen and not a vengeful son of a bitch. But underneath her prim and proper facade, there is a woman begging to be unleashed. If I wasn’t so hellbent on breaking the chains of pain bound to my boy, I’d be tempted to unravel Charlotte and show her what it’s like to ditch the law and walk on the wild side. And there’s no time for me to succumb to her efforts to make me a decent man. I’ve agreed to prospect for the Satan’s Knights MC, and my pretty little paralegal is about to learn there ain’t nothing noble about a man who sells his soul to the Devil in the name of revenge. *Editorial note: Breaking The Chains is the second book in the Satan’s Knights Prospect Trilogy. Fan’s of Janine’s Blackout Duet will immediately recognize Bishop, but all readers can enjoy this novel as a steamy, suspenseful standalone.*
ENJOY PEACHESHearts are big but they’re also made of glass. “Why are you doing this?” “What do you mean?” “I answered your question, now answer mine. Why are you here, Peaches?” “Why do you call me that?” she fires back. “I’ll tell you why when you answer me. You’re not dressed in your lawyer duds, so I’m going to assume Schwartz didn’t send you. In fact, I know he didn’t because he told me to call the office for an update—something I forgot to do because I was….” I let my words trail as my eyes wander back to her tits. “…preoccupied with other thoughts.” Those cheeks of hers go pink and my dick stirs. Just one fucking second. One motherfucking second is all I need to imagine all the ways I can get her to blush. “You’re right, I came on my own free will,” she whispers. “Good girl,” I praise as her nipples pebble against the thin cotton t-shirt. One fucking second. “Now, tell me why,” I demand, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from her glorious rack. The view is just as fucking daunting up top and sends the blood rushing to my dick just as fucking fast. Her lips part and a breath escapes them. It takes everything in me to refrain from demanding she opens them wider. “Tell me,” I say instead. She swallows hard. That neck. I want to taste it. Fucking brand it is what I want to do. “I didn’t come here for this…” she says, clearly flustered and moves to push back her chair. Reaching across the table, I close a hand around her wrist. Fuck it. Let them send me to the hole. I’ll take the punishment for one second of Charlotte. “My father was in prison,” she blurts and as soon as she does, she presses her free hand over her mouth. I snatch my own hand away from hers and lean back against the chair absorbing the revelation. My mind flashes back to the first visit and the way she spewed those facts about touching visitors to the guard. At the time I figured it was some shit she studied. “He died there,” she continues, dropping her hand away from her mouth as she lifts her gaze to me. The flush covering her cheeks deepens but it’s anger that puts it there this time. “So, yes, I came here on my day off to see you and I’m very well aware that I’ve probably thrown myself into this case for all the wrong reasons. Helping you won’t bring back my dad, but Connor deserves his even if he’s a incorrigible asshole.” “Smaller words, Peaches, all I got out of that is you think I’m an asshole.” “How’s this? Fuck you. Do you need me to translate those two words?” “Now, you’re speaking my language,” I reply, cocking my head to the side as she rises from her chair. Huffing out a breath, she mutters something as she roughly gathers her belongings from the table. “Why are you leaving?” Her eyes snap to mine and she stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “You’re kidding me, right?” I shrug my shoulders in response. “Schwartz is going to get you out of here,” she says, bracing her hands on the edge of the table as she leans over it. God, she’s fucking adorable when she’s pissed. Adorable and completely fuckable. I bet she likes it rough. I also bet she doesn’t know she likes it rough. The girls probably never been properly fucked. “It’d be wise of you to pull your shit together, Bishop. Everyone is setting the stage for you to reunite with that sweet boy because we believe every child deserves to know they’re loved. You may be a jerk, but you love your kid. I can see that in those cold eyes of yours and he needs to feel that love. He needs to know he counts. Don’t let him down—” Her sermon sobers me, and I quickly cut her off. “I won’t,” I interject. “Don’t think for one second I’m not grateful—” “Well, you sure as hell have a funny way of showing it.” I shrug again. “It’s the asshole in me.” “Yeah, well maybe that’s something you should work on.” Nodding, I swipe the photos from the table. “Thank you for these.” “You’re welcome,” she mutters, pushing in her chair. “Can I still call you next Saturday?” Shoving the envelope under her arm, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Yes, but I’m doing this for Connor, Bishop, not you. If Schwartz finds out—” “He won’t,” I interrupt. “And thank you for putting Connor first.” “Try it some time,” she says. I can tell she regrets the harsh reply because she closes her eyes as soon as she says it. “I’m sorry, that was mean.” “You’re just being honest,” I tell her. “He’s a great kid,” she continues. “And for what it’s worth, the family who has taken him in are very nice. They’re trying their best to make him feel at home.” I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m glad he’s safe and out of Pete’s hands, but home isn’t there. I don’t know where it is, but I know it’s not there. “I’ve got to go,” Charlotte says as she steps around the table. I probably should apologize, maybe even thank her again. I do neither and instead, I let her walk away, but not without indulging myself with another glance at her ass. “Peaches,” I call and she pauses. Turning around, she struts back to the table and props her hand on her hip. “Unless you’re going to tell me why you call me that, we have nothing else to say to one another.” “Perfect as a peach.” “What?” “Your ass, Charlotte, it reminds me of a peach. Perfectly ripe and oh so fucking round. There ain’t ever been a peach I didn’t want to sink my teeth into,” I say pointedly as I lean closer. “The first bite is always a little tough but once you get closer to the core…mmmm so fucking sweet. The juice drips from your lips and you fiend for more.” She gasps and I grin, rising from my chair. With my photos tucked safely against my chest, I nod for the guard to escort me back to my cell. As he starts for me, I look back at Charlotte. One more second. Just one more fucking second.
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
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