Depraved by Bella J Release Blitz
Title: Depraved
Series: American Street Kings #1
Author: Bella J.
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense/MC
Release Date: July 17, 2019
Blurb
Obsession.
It’s an ugly thing.
It’s an ugly thing.
It consumes
you. Controls you. Dictates your every move.
you. Controls you. Dictates your every move.
You can try
to fight it, try to resist. But its stronger than you. It always wins.
to fight it, try to resist. But its stronger than you. It always wins.
The day I
first saw her, obsession took root inside me. Suddenly there was nothing else.
Just her.
first saw her, obsession took root inside me. Suddenly there was nothing else.
Just her.
My
obsession left me no choice. I had to have her.
obsession left me no choice. I had to have her.
No matter
the cost.
the cost.
No matter
the risk.
the risk.
In the end
she will be mine.
she will be mine.
Until
then…I wait.
then…I wait.
Purchase Links
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
Alyx
Midnight. The witching hour. The time evil came out to play. It was also
the time when they arrived. The roar of engines sliced through the silence of
night and set my heart racing. My skin tingled, and heat spread through me like
wildfire.
the time when they arrived. The roar of engines sliced through the silence of
night and set my heart racing. My skin tingled, and heat spread through me like
wildfire.
It was him. The man I’d been watching from my bedroom window ever since
they started coming around. He would come once a week, and always around
midnight. Three motorcycles would be parked in the dark out front, and I would
watch as he and two other men made their way to our front door.
they started coming around. He would come once a week, and always around
midnight. Three motorcycles would be parked in the dark out front, and I would
watch as he and two other men made their way to our front door.
Leather cuts, torn jeans, and shit-kicker boots set them apart from us
and our designer label clothing. Even in the dark they looked mean and callous.
and our designer label clothing. Even in the dark they looked mean and callous.
One of them had a clean-shaven head, and the other short hair, cut
neatly. But him? He had longer hair. Dark—the same color as midnight—and it
settled just below his shoulders. It was never styled, never neatly put in
place, but always disheveled. There was this thing he did with his hair after
taking off his helmet, pushing his fingers through the strands and pulling it
back. It was like he tried to make it seem more…chaotic. Messed up. Perfect.
neatly. But him? He had longer hair. Dark—the same color as midnight—and it
settled just below his shoulders. It was never styled, never neatly put in
place, but always disheveled. There was this thing he did with his hair after
taking off his helmet, pushing his fingers through the strands and pulling it
back. It was like he tried to make it seem more…chaotic. Messed up. Perfect.
From the second floor of our house, it was easy to see his frame was
bigger than the other two. Long body, broad shoulders, denim jeans clinging to
thick thighs. During the last year, I had committed every inch of his frame to
memory. Thinking about him. Fantasizing…my stranger in the dark.
bigger than the other two. Long body, broad shoulders, denim jeans clinging to
thick thighs. During the last year, I had committed every inch of his frame to
memory. Thinking about him. Fantasizing…my stranger in the dark.
His weekly visits were one of my father’s many secrets. A well-respected
police commissioner’s reputation would be ruined if the public knew about his
ties with one of New York’s most notorious motorcycle gangs. I never could
figure out what kind of business my dad would have with these men. But while I
stared from my window at the man in the shadows, I didn’t really care. The way
my heart kept racing, my stomach filled with a kind of excitement I’d never
felt before, I knew I had grown addicted to it. The thrill of watching him,
studying him…desiring him.
police commissioner’s reputation would be ruined if the public knew about his
ties with one of New York’s most notorious motorcycle gangs. I never could
figure out what kind of business my dad would have with these men. But while I
stared from my window at the man in the shadows, I didn’t really care. The way
my heart kept racing, my stomach filled with a kind of excitement I’d never
felt before, I knew I had grown addicted to it. The thrill of watching him,
studying him…desiring him.
He never looked around when he walked up to the front door. Under the dim
light that came from the porch, I could make out the contour of his face and
the shadow of his beard. But everything about him screamed business.
Determination. Danger. Every step he took was calculated, confident, and
undeniably dominant. He was the alpha, the leader—even I could see that.
light that came from the porch, I could make out the contour of his face and
the shadow of his beard. But everything about him screamed business.
Determination. Danger. Every step he took was calculated, confident, and
undeniably dominant. He was the alpha, the leader—even I could see that.
The weekly visits usually lasted about an hour, maybe less. And I would
wait by the window with so much expectation from the prospect of catching
another glimpse of him, because this was the exciting part. The part where he
left. It was the part I loved the most.
wait by the window with so much expectation from the prospect of catching
another glimpse of him, because this was the exciting part. The part where he
left. It was the part I loved the most.
The front door would open, and first I’d see their shadows falling on the
well-manicured lawn and cobble walkway. I would lean to the side of the window,
my heart thumping erratically inside my chest…waiting…anticipating.
well-manicured lawn and cobble walkway. I would lean to the side of the window,
my heart thumping erratically inside my chest…waiting…anticipating.
Then he would appear, his back toward me. The cut he wore told me who he
was, a member of the American Street Kings—a wicked skull with the American
flag proudly displayed on the leather. It was beautiful and threatening at the
same time.
was, a member of the American Street Kings—a wicked skull with the American
flag proudly displayed on the leather. It was beautiful and threatening at the
same time.
He’d reach his Harley, and I would straighten, my heart wanting to crawl
out of my throat. My stomach would turn into a thousand knots within a split
second as I watched him throw his cigarette to the ground, pressing on the
little yellow coal with his boot. He would turn his head, glancing over his
shoulder in my direction. Then, finally, the moment I had been waiting for ever
since I heard the roar of their motorcycles coming down our driveway.
out of my throat. My stomach would turn into a thousand knots within a split
second as I watched him throw his cigarette to the ground, pressing on the
little yellow coal with his boot. He would turn his head, glancing over his
shoulder in my direction. Then, finally, the moment I had been waiting for ever
since I heard the roar of their motorcycles coming down our driveway.
The moment when he turned around and looked right at me. I swallowed
hard, equal parts excitement and fear running rampant inside me, but I refused
to look away because it was all there. It was there, in his eyes. I could see
it all the way from the second floor. The promise. The vow…the warning.
hard, equal parts excitement and fear running rampant inside me, but I refused
to look away because it was all there. It was there, in his eyes. I could see
it all the way from the second floor. The promise. The vow…the warning.
He would come for me. One day. Whether I wanted him to or not.
Author Bio
All the way
from Cape Town, South Africa, Bella J lives for the days when she’s able to
retreat to her writer’s cave where she can get lost in her little pretend world
of romance, love, and insanely hot bad boys.Bella J is a Hybrid Author with both Self-Published and Traditional Published
work. Even though her novels range from drama, to comedy, to suspense, it’s the
dark, twisted side of romance she loves the most.
from Cape Town, South Africa, Bella J lives for the days when she’s able to
retreat to her writer’s cave where she can get lost in her little pretend world
of romance, love, and insanely hot bad boys.Bella J is a Hybrid Author with both Self-Published and Traditional Published
work. Even though her novels range from drama, to comedy, to suspense, it’s the
dark, twisted side of romance she loves the most.
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