The Vengeful Thief + Excerpt
Peter Slade never thought he’d be coming home. But after his family is put in danger because of his past misdeeds, he has to reconcile with the son he abandoned years ago.
But his son has been in good hands. Liv Morgan has never been the nurturing type, but when hard times forced her to move in with her best friend and her orphaned nephew, she found herself being the adoptive mother to a troublemaker with a heart of gold.
Liv has no idea what trouble really is. When Slade rolls back in town and is ready to reconcile with his son, Liv finds herself walking the thin line between the estranged father and son. And as she’s more and more drawn to Slade, she realizes that if things go wrong, it will be more than just her heartbreaking.
But Slade came back for a reason. His family is in danger. Liv might think that keeping him away will protect her heart, but he wants her body safe too and to do that, he’s going to have to stay close. Liv is about to learn that revenge has never been this sexy…
many other novels. She grew up surrounded by rescue dogs and escaping into romance books whenever possible. After trying to do the “adult” thing by getting an accounting degree and CPA license, she decided to try her hand at writing and never looked back.
Excerpt 3
Liv just managed to pull on her boots as she stumbled out of the house to see Peter Slade starting down the street. As soon as she had her balance back, she went running after him and grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. It was so thick, she didn’t even feel him, but he obviously felt her because he immediately stopped and turned to her, which caused her to drop him and back up. Now that she’d caught up to him, she didn’t know what she could say to make him change his mind.
“Umm,” she started with an especially unconvincing tone.
He didn’t wait for her to continue and kept on down the street. The houses weren’t super close together, but they weren’t spread out either, which gave her precious little time to talk any sense to this stranger. “Can you please stop a second and talk to me?” she pleaded as they got closer and closer to her next-door neighbor.
Surprisingly enough, he did stop, but that didn’t mean he was about to give her what she wanted. “Tell me where I can find my son.”
Her mouth fell open as she tried to think of the easiest way to tell him no. Apparently, she waited too long because he started up the driveway to Mrs. Greene’s house. Oh, for the love of…. “You can’t just go pounding on everyone’s door until you find him!” she bit out as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.
“Why not?”
“Because….” There were so many reasons, but they were all so common sense related that she couldn’t find any words to say. “Mrs. Greene is eighty years old. You can’t go knocking on her door in the middle of the night!”
“It’s nine p.m. I think her heart will hold out.” Sure enough, as soon as he reached the front door, he pounded a few times, proving that he wasn’t joking around.
And then she was stuck there, standing next to an obviously crazy man in just her short pajama shorts, matching tank top, and knee-high rain boots. The worst part about this was that she looked like the crazy one.
Peter Slade looked as if he’d walked out of some sort of fashion ad. No, that wasn’t right. He was too hard around the edges to ever really be a model. The only reason his crazy was attractive was because of the edge that went along with it. There was an edge to everything about him. From the leather jacket that was torn and patched in ways that symbolized exactly how worn it had been and slightly too long hair, somewhere between short and ponytail length, as if he’d been putting off getting it cut for a few months, and the facial hair that showed it had been a few days since he’d shaved. But she had been around enough thugs and gangsters in her time to recognize the small patches where there was no hair growing anymore. Scars. Normal people didn’t get that many scars on their face.
Though she supposed normal people weren’t presumed dead by their entire family either. Normal probably wasn’t a word that was used much around this guy.
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