THE new PLAN:
* Don’t find Marc
* Take down a Russian Bratva boss
* Don’t have sex with Kingsley
* Take down a Colombian drug lord
Don’t fall for Marc again
* DON’T FIND MARC
Kill every –
* SCREW THE PLAN AND JUST WING IT
This is the story of what happens when best laid plans fail, and a vengeful woman is forced to find her own way once again. A bond broken, trust shattered, and too many lies to keep track of find Marc and Lily all out of plans and running out of time. Can they find their way back to each other before trouble finds them first, or is it really the end of their journey?
If this NOVEL were a MOVIE, it would have an R rating from the MPAA. Contains: Violence, Grisly Images, Strong Language, Nudity, and Graphic Sexual Content.
“Colombia is about as far away as I can get from this god awful place. No, I will not be coming back. We end here.”
“Baby, we never got a chance to get started.”
He ran his teeth over his bottom lip and she stared for a long moment. Then she moved closer, hiking her skirt up past her thighs so she could straddle his lap. She dug the tip of her knife into his shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to catch his attention.
“You’ve never once accepted any of my offers, Marcelle. Years we have known each other. Much greater men than you have fallen at my feet, but you always resisted. Why are you so willing now? I don’t like being toyed with,” she informed him, and the blade finally cut through his skin. He winced.
“I was an employee before; a hired hand. I’m not gonna fuck the boss’ wife when I’m trying to get paid. You think I didn’t want to? Please, I used to dream about you,” Marc assured her. “But I’m pretty sure your husband is never going to hire me again. Also, you’re never letting me get out of here alive. What a send off. One last ride.”
She stared at him. Roksana was a bright woman, but she wasn’t exactly intelligent. She was easy to manipulate, easy to set off. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at him, her pupils dilated. She was breathing heavily through her nose. The knife pushed harder against him for a moment, then she dropped it before sitting down, pressing her mouth to his.
She tasted like cigarettes and stale wine, her tongue aggressive against his own, but Marc didn’t care. He kissed her back like it was something he’d been planning for years. Like she was someone he’d been fantasizing about kissing.
Like she’s someone with red hair and green eyes.
BEST LAID PLANS
About Stylo Fantome
Crazy woman living in an undisclosed location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since …, forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball – I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I’m clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.
I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there’s your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair – both a curse and a blessing – and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can’t understand me.
Yeah. I think that about sums me up.
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