Sometimes we must let go of what was, appreciate what remains and fearlessly embrace what comes next.
Born to a family of outlaws, I was destined to ride with, the Satan’s Knights MC. With mayhem, and havoc in my blood and chaos living deep in my soul, I learned the Devil don’t sleep. You never hear him creeping and he often comes disguised as everything you ever wanted.
I was just a teenager when she first showed, masquerading as the girl of my dreams. A whiskey shootin’ spitfire who knocked me on my ass and helped me turn the town upside down. The girl who stole my heart with her smile and never gave it back.
The same bitch who ruined me and turned my blood to ice.
It’s been six years since I turned my back on Mac, my family and my club. I’ve pushed her to the back of my head, wrote everyone off and damned the Kentucky charter to hell. But, where God built a church, the Devil built a chapel.
Now, her life is on the line and it’s clear I’m still a sucker for her gorgeous chaos because I’m the one riding to her rescue.
I often dreamed of what it would be like to stare into Bas’ blue eyes again. To hear his raspy voice, whisper his love for me and feel his strong arms around me. After all, it’s always been in his embrace that I felt the safest.
In my dreams, he abolishes my sins and forgives me for breaking both our hearts. But this is no dream.
I’m running from a nightmare and the one running with me, looks at me with enough anger to burn the world to ash. Once upon a time, we were in love.
Once upon a time, it was us against the world.
Once upon a time, he didn’t look at me and see the Devil.
If only he knew the truth. If only he knew the Devil was a broken angel with tattered wings.
An angel who sacrificed her heart and soul for him.
***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***
.•´✶Release Day Excerpt The Devil Don’t Sleep¸.•´✶
(A Satan’s Knights Novel) © Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.
The ride back to the house is quiet. It isn’t until we’re inside and I flick the lights on that she turns to me and finally speaks.
“I’m going to bed,” she rasps. “I’d really appreciate it if you would pick up Ryder. If he asks for me just tell him I’m not feeling well.”
“You ain’t going to bed and Ryder is just fine where he is,” I tell her. “What happened back there, can’t happen again.”
“You’re right,” she says, pausing to swallow. I imagine her throat burns something fierce from the way she screamed at me. “It had no business happening once and it won’t happen again,” she assures me. “You were being nice,” she continues. “I let myself get carried away with the past—”
“Oh, for crying out loud would you cut the bullshit?” I grind out, clenching my jaw. “Sit down, Mac.”
“I told you, I want to go to bed. Please, I just want to forget this happened.”
“Newsflash, baby, it don’t work that way,” I inform her, stepping closer to her. “You think I haven’t spent the last six years trying to forget? Tonight happened, and it’s just another night you and I can’t undo. Now, sit down, pour yourself a drink if you think it will help, but neither one of us are going to bed until we fucking speak our piece.”
“We tried that already, and it didn’t work. It’s not going to work now either because all I see when I look at you is that woman. I know it’s not my place to be jealous—”
“No, it’s not,” I interrupt, unscrewing the top of the Fireball. I’m sure there’s a bunch of fancy glasses hidden in one of these cabinets but I’m not about to leave her alone with her thoughts to go search for one. Instead, I lift the bottle to my lips and take a swig before outstretching my hand and offering it to her. When she doesn’t take it, I take another gulp. My hand tightens around the bottle as the fiery liquid slides smoothly down my throat and takes the edge off.
“Let’s stop pretending Dori is the issue here,” I tell her.
“Dori,” she repeats. “That’s her name.”
“Mac,” I warn.
There is no use in wasting time talking about a junkie who I sometimes fuck to forget the woman standing in front of me. The only reason I went to the apartment in the first place is because she told me someone had broken in. Dori knew she could’ve called to tell me she was on fire and I would’ve told her to hang up and call 9-1-1. The bitch played me.
“All these years, I’ve told myself you were off living your best life. That you had moved on from us and found everything we were meant to have, with someone else. Someone who was better capable of loving you in the ways I couldn’t when it came to your lifestyle. Somebody who could fix the mess I left behind. Telling myself one thing and seeing that thing for myself…in front of my own eyes, it’s too much, Bas.”
Shaking her head, she lifts her trembling hand to her mouth.
“I can’t do this,” she murmurs.
“Careful, Mac, you almost sound like you have regrets,” I bite back, the words bitter on my tongue.
Her eyes darken as her fingers fall from her lips.
“You think I don’t have regrets?” she spats in disbelief. “I loved you more than I ever thought a person could possibly love someone!”
“Then why the fuck did you throw it all away?” I roar. “Because this is how I see it…I had a fucking girl in my life I loved with every fiber of my being. A fucking girl who swore to stick by my side through thick and thin. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, baby,” I say. My voice strains with emotion, causing me to pause and take a breath. “When I signed the plea deal that sent me to prison, I knew five years was a long time for us to be a part. I knew it was a lot to ask of you, but you were my Mac. If anyone could handle my obligations, it was you and you handled it like a fucking champ, showing up for every visit, writing me letters and making sure my commissary was always full. I was the envy of every fucking guy doing a bid in that shithole and counted down the days until I would be free, knowing the first fucking thing I would do was take you to City Hall and marry you.”
“Stop,” she begs, tears filling her swollen eyes.
I don’t stop.
Not until I know why we ended the way we did.
Not until I know why she chose Junior over me.
Not until I know why she lost her shit in the street.
Not until I prove Ally wrong.
“Then about six months before they released me, I stopped counting down. Four and a half years, I served four and a half fucking years and the last six months were the longest stretch of my life because you weren’t there. You stopped showing up, stopped taking my fucking calls. It was like you fucking died.”
“I might as well have!”
The girl in the street dashing in between cars is back, and she moves to stand in front of me, pounding her tiny fists against my chest.
“That so?” I sneer. “You didn’t look very dead when I got home.”
“Because you didn’t look me in the fucking eye, you bastard! I was begging you, pleading with you to fucking save me,” she sobs uncontrollably.
Those honey eyes of hers.
Some of the most poignant conversations of my life were the silent ones I had with that pair of eyes. They were the first place I searched because they always told her deepest secrets and her best truths. Did I really not look her in the eye? That can’t be. I remember her face. I remember the smile she gave me when I entered the door. Thinking back, it wasn’t her greatest smile and that could possibly be because I never saw it reach her eyes.
It was a smile of relief.
One of sorrow.
I glanced down and saw her stomach. I didn’t have to look her in the eye to know why she was sorry.
Juniors hands on her belly gave me the answer to a question I never bothered to ask. An answer to a truth I never searched for. A secret too dark to comprehend.
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.•´✶Meet and Greet.•´✶
Come meet Author, Janine Infante Bosco and model, Joe Adams at the “Tempted & Tantalizing Author Event” in Staten Island, New York this October!
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.•´✶ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´✶
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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