From Cora Kenborn and Catherine Wiltcher comes Corrupt Gods, a brand new arranged marriage mafia duet.
Synopsis:
A Santiago is a lesson in ruin. A Carrera bleeds for revenge.
Thalia Santiago is the daughter of my enemy. A beautiful rebel with a single cause. Impulsive. Fearless. And ripe for her father’s undoing.
I recognized her the moment she stepped into my casino. I watched her start the fires that burned her pretty fingers, and then I poured gasoline on the flames. Now she’s in my debt, and her dues are a shiny gold ring and a vow of deception.
I’ll bend her. I’ll break her. I’ll turn our mockery of a marriage into a battlefield. And that river of bad blood that flows between our two families? I’ll make it an ocean of hate.
*This is book 1 of a new dark romance duet, releasing May 12th. Tainted Blood, book 2, releases June 9th. **Bad Blood is set in the Santiago and Carrera worlds, but it is not necessary to have read either trilogy beforehand.
My Review:
“The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children”
William Shakespeare
It was great to get back into the world of Dante Santiago. I haven’t read the Carrera Cartel Trilogy yet but I certainly am going to get acquainted with them before the next book in this duet.
I loved it. After the wedding day scene I couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to go.
Thalia Santiago the enemy to Santi Carrera or so they’re told throughout their lives. They’re enemies. The hate lust between these two is sizzling.
True to the theme of dark romance. The book covers violence and trafficking. So trigger warning ⚠️
If you’re into cartel romances or mafia romances the this is the book for you.
I can’t wait to see what happens next and whether a truce is called between these enemies or if a new war is started.
Thalia Santiago is the daughter of my enemy. A beautiful rebel with a single cause. Impulsive. Fearless. And ripe for her father’s undoing.
I recognized her the moment she stepped into my casino. I watched her start the fires that burned her pretty fingers, and then I poured gasoline on the flames. Now she’s in my debt, and her dues are a shiny gold ring and a vow of deception.
I’ll bend her. I’ll break her. I’ll turn our mockery of a marriage into a battlefield. And that river of bad blood that flows between our two families? I’ll make it an ocean of hate. Buy Link: http://mybook.to/BadBloodCG
Meet Cora Kenborn: Cora Kenborn is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes in multiple genres from dark and gritty romantic suspense to laugh-out-loud romantic comedy. Known for her sharp banter and shocking blindsides, Cora pushes her characters and readers out of their comfort zones and onto an emotional roller coaster before delivering a twisted happily ever after. Cora believes there’s nothing better than a feisty heroine who keeps her alpha on his toes, and she draws inspiration from the sassy country women who raised her. However, since the domestic Southern Belle gene seems to have skipped a generation, she spends any free time convincing her family that microwaving Hot Pockets counts as cooking dinner. Oh, and autocorrect thinks she’s obsessed with ducks. Connect with Cora Kenborn: Newsletter: http://bit.ly/CoraNews Website: http://www.corakenborn.com Facebook: http://bit.ly/CoraFB Facebook Reader Group: http://bit.ly/CoraTAA Twitter: http://bit.ly/CoraTwitter Instagram: http://bit.ly/CoraInsta BookBub: http://bit.ly/CoraBookBub
Meet Catherine Wiltcher I’m an International Bestselling Author of ten dark romance novels, a stage 4 cancer thriver, and a self-confessed alpha addict! My writing is best described as sinfully sexy, and my characters always fall hard and deep for one another. I live in the UK with my husband and two young daughters… But if I ever found myself stranded on a desert island, I’d like a large pink gin to keep me company. Cillian Murphy wouldn’t be a bad shout either… Movies & stuff… Before I started writing, I worked for seventeen years in the TV and movie industry. I started my career on the hit UK ITV show ‘Blind Date’ before moving into Music TV (MTV, T4) and then movie and drama production, with a brief (three year) flirtation at the BBC’s Natural History Unit thrown in there as well. I’ve been really lucky to travel all over the world with my former job, working with the BBC, ITV, Channel 4, Channel 5, MTV, Walden Media, Warner Bros & 20th Century Fox, amongst many others. All my experiences have helped shape my stories – from the amazing places I’ve visited to hanging out with some really fun A-listers. Connect with Catherine Wiltcher Newsletter: http://www.catherinewiltcher.com/newsletter Website: https://catherinewiltcher.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/catherinewiltcherauthor/ Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/dantesdevils Twitter: https://twitter.com/kidsversuscopy1 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/catherinewiltcher/ BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/catherine-wiltcher Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3d4Yxnx Amazon Author Page: https://amzn.to/39aNnws
Have you ever noticed how the mesh bits in lace look like the intersecting bars of a prison cell?
I did. Five minutes ago. As I was sat on the edge of a strange bed in a strange room, in a strange wedding dress, with a strange perfume smothering my senses like a designer rag.
My fingers won’t stop playing with the delicate trim on the bodice. It’s as if I’m trying to find a weakness in the yarn so I can plan my escape.
It’s beautiful.
Beautifully oppressive.
It’s a Dorian Gray mirror gone askew. The material is stupidly fussy and over-detailed, and it makes me look about twenty years older than I am. Still, at least it covers the bruises…
“Come, Ielena. The car is waiting for you.”
Marie enters the room clapping briskly, as if the force and sound will unchain my heavy heart from the bed and propel me to my feet. Her face is a painted mask of encouragement, but it reminds me of a colombina I bought in Venice once. The initial dazzle concealed the flaws. The cracks in the porcelain grew wider and more obvious as the truth clawed its way to the surface.
That was the day I learned that nothing is what it seems.
Marie’s claps grow louder in my ears. “Up! Up, lazy girl! What are you waiting for?”
A knight on a white horse?
A miracle?
Reluctantly, I stand for her inspection. I’m not sure when or how Marie first entered my father’s life, but her presence is more front-and-center than my mother’s these days.
I loathe her.
She’s brittle and calculating, and our relationship is a Ping-Pong match of mutual hostility. Unfortunately, since Karina disappeared, Marie’s winning most of the shots. She’s subtle about it, though. Her words are well-fed piranhas. They’ll take tiny bites here and there, leaving me stung and permanently unsettled.
She stops in front of me, a smoky swirl of coral-pink chiffon, and I brace myself for more teeth.
“Oh dear.” She casts a critical eye over my wedding dress. “Oh dear, oh dear… Still, it’s the best I could do at such short notice. You have no idea the strings I had to pull to get you something suitable in time.”
If she expects me to thank her for it, I’d rather choke on the lace.
Her assessment moves up to my face and she tuts out even more disapproval. “Good grief. Your make-up is abysmal. Antoinette!” Her maid appears in the doorway like a dutiful pet. “She needs less rouge on her cheeks. And that red lipstick is wrong. She looks like a whore, not a virgin bride.”
There goes my one shot at individuality.
Is this really happening? Has it really only been twenty-four hours since Papa announced I was to marry a man I’d never even met? A one-minute, formally worded deposition slotted in between his business meetings. He takes longer to peruse menus in restaurants.
Come to think of it, it’s the longest conversation we’ve ever had.
“Dressing table,” barks Marie, giving me a not so gentle shove in that direction.
Gritting my teeth, I allow myself to be ‘de-whored,’ by Antoinette. On the plus side, marriage means leaving Marie behind. Even she wouldn’t dare disrespect the wife of Luca Zaccaria…
I should have known she wouldn’t go out without a fanfare, though.
“I don’t see why we’re bothering with this charade,” she mutters, driving an extra pin into the base of my chignon and scraping my scalp on purpose.
“What do you mean?” I catch her eye in the mirror, instantly wary of the cruel green glint that I find there. “This is what my father expects of me.”
I’m rewarded with a cold smile for my curiosity. “I mean why go to so much trouble to look the part when the ceremony room will be empty.”
“But Signor Zaccaria’s family will be in attendance.”
I’ve read all about mafia families and the eight billion aunts, uncles and associated offspring who get wheeled out for occasions such as these. Kind of like a Bratva wedding when a sibling’s disgrace hasn’t double-booked the venue.
Her eyes widen for a beat, and then the chill in her smile drops a couple of hundred degrees. “What makes you think you’re marrying into La Famiglia, child? What makes you think you’re good enough for one of Zaccaria’s precious sons? Your sister has polluted you, like she’s polluted your father’s reputation, and today you will pay the price for her disgrace and his resurrection.”
My stomach lurches. She’s right. My father never actually confirmed who my groom was.
I assumed.
I just assumed.
“Who am I supposed to be marrying?” I whisper.
She shrugs, as if the detail is insignificant. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I don’t believe you! He wouldn’t do this! Where’s Papa?” I rise to my feet, but her bony fingers clamp around my upper arm to stop me.
“Sit down, stupid girl.” I wince as her grip tightens; her coral pink nails digging crescents into my skin. “Your father has no desire to see you. He left for Paris an hour ago.”
My mouth snaps shut when I realize I’m gaping at her. “But he’s walking me down the aisle! I’m playing the role of the good Bratva daughter for him… The least he can do is guide me through the scene.”
“Be quiet!” Her mask cracks, just like my colombina did, but this time spite comes pouring out. “The only things accompanying you to that altar, child, are shame and solitude. You are all alone in this world now, Ielena. Your sister has deserted you, and your stupid mother is soaking your memory in gin.”
I have Maxim.
Please tell me I still have Maxim.
“Let go of me, Marie!”
“All alone,” she mouths back.
Shrugging her off, I sit back down at the dressing table. My hands are shaking as Antoinette pats away the last of the red Chanel before smoothing on a dash of Vaseline, and then painting my lips a pale mauve.
Even that seems wrong. I need a shot of color confidence to bring my fair skin and frozen expression back from the brink, not something that’ll fade me out even more.
I’m only a half-measure, remember?
An image from yesterday slams into my mind, one with raging battlements of contempt in his eyes.
Aiden Knight.
The man I couldn’t stop thinking about all of last night. The beautiful cruel memory who tempted my fingers between my thighs at the break of dawn.
Karina’s voice is in my head suddenly, telling me to hold on to my rainbow, no matter what. We made promises to each other the night she left. The kind you cross your hearts with, schoolgirl style, and keep until you die die die.
“Are you finished?” I catch Marie’s eye in the mirror and hold it. Screw her. Screw my father. They could marry me off to a beggar on the street and I’d still find a way to paint us gold.
She scoffs and nods.
“Good,” I say, firing back a Ping-Pong shot of my own.
I was right to feel that sense of satisfaction earlier. I’m not some little girl she can push around anymore. My new groom may not be Luca Zaccaria, but my father’s choice for me would have been tactical. He’ll be a man of standing in the criminal world.
“Good?” she mocks. “You won’t be saying that in an hour’s time.”
“Aren’t you going to wish me luck?”
Without waiting for an answer, I rise to my feet and sashay from the room as elegantly as my badly fitted shoes—thanks again, Marie—will allow.
Heart pounding, I make my way down the elegant marble staircase, feeling like Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind, but with the whole world, not Rhett Butler, declaring that they don’t give a damn about me anymore.
I reach the lobby to find the tall, stoic figure of my father’s Brigadier waiting for me. There’s another man standing there, too. He has his back turned, his black-suited shoulders blocking out most of the light from a nearby window. I’m so relieved to see Maxim I barely glance at him.
“You’re here!” I take the last couple of steps too fast and nearly lose my footing.
I knew he wouldn’t abandon me as well.
He turns at my voice—eyes hooded, expression bleak. “Issa.” He catches me as I stumble into his arms. “Careful, zvezda moya.” He sets me right before sweeping his gaze downward. “Why, you look beautiful.”
“You’re the sweetest liar.” I step back to break his embrace, embarrassed by my lack of poise. What’s worse, there’s a masculine scent in the air that’s aiding and abetting that emotion, whipping up memories I’d rather forget. “Marie chose the dress so you can draw your own conclusions from that.”
“Tsch, Issa,” he chides. “She chose well.”
“Liar, twice over,” I say with a shy smile.
“She’s right, it’s hideous,” drawls a deep voice in perfect Russian. “But it’s nothing a bottle of Saint-Émilion couldn’t fix.”
Colors.
All the damn colors.
The same man from the bar and my late night fantasies is smirking down at me, his cerulean-blue oceans churning with the same derision. My lungs stutter and lose function as I finally place the scent in the air.
“You,” I gasp out.
“Me,” he says flatly.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“My presence was requested so it’s a good job I had another suit to wear.”
I can’t seem to process his words. It’s not just the size of him that’s throwing me off kilter. Those oceans are shark-infested, and I’m the bloody bait.
My head swings to Maxim for answers, but the scars on his face offer me nothing so I find it swinging back to him. It’s magnetic. I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
“Monsieur Knight,” I say, pulling myself together. “How lovely it is to see you again.”
He barks out a rough laugh. “You could strip paint with the acid in your voice, princess. Your insincerity is corrosive.”
“Who knew a gentleman could be so vulgar,” I counter quietly.
“Who knew you had the brains to come to that conclusion all by yourself.”
“Have you two met before?” Maxim looks confused, trapped here in our blazing crossfire.
Aiden Knight cocks his handsome head and grins at me, but his eyes are like chips of ice. “Let’s just say we had a difference of opinion over some home truths and a bottle of red yesterday.”
Instantly, myheart is a drum and bass beat inside my chest. I hate how British men have the whole archetypal bastard thing down to a fine art. His accent is a poisoned arrow with a fin-shaped fletching of contempt. He’s dressed in black Armani again today, though he’s swapped the black dress shirt for white.
Colors. Colors. He wears them like a warning.
His necktie is a brilliant crimson, the same red as the lipstick I chose for myself until Marie instructed Antoinette to scrub it off. He’s stolen it. How dare he! I find myself hating him more for that than I do for his insults.
“Is it true Papa left for Paris an hour ago?”
I mean to direct it at Maxim, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from my nemesis. He’s coolness personified, with the kind of hard arrogance that hazardous men exude. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me either, as if I’m a cornered fox and he’s the Master of the Hunt.
“Why? Are you worried he took his credit card with him?”
“That’s enough, Knight!” growls Maxim.
I blush right to my roots as my father’s confidante proceeds to curse in both French and Russian at my English invasion. It’s a bi-language of reproach, but Knight just shrugs it off. Clearly, his ninety-nine problems don’t include Bratva Brigadiers who’d be more than happy to use his head as target practice.
Is this man completely impenetrable or just plain indifferent?
“Jesus, you talk a lot of shit, Maxim,” he says in a bored voice, cutting him off mid-flow. “If you’re quite finished, her chariot awaits.”
Her?
I watch him stalk through the open front door, down the stone steps and into one of the waiting Escalades without so much as a backward glance at me.
Who is this vile, rude, arrogant man?
I meet Maxim’s heavy stare with unspoken questions in my eyes. “Marie told me I’m not betrothed to Luca Zaccaria anymore.”
“No, zvezda moya.”
“Then, who?”
“Issa—”
“Please, Maxim,” I beg. “If our friendship means anything, I need you to be straight with me. Who the hell am I marrying today?”
My only ally in this world curses and swipes a hand across his jaw. It’s as if he’s disinfecting his next words for an unclean revelation. I then watch in mounting, escalating, soul-crushing horror as his gaze shifts to the vehicles outside. Or rather, to one in particular…
Catherine Wiltcher is a bestselling author of ten dark romance novels, a former TV producer, and a self-confessed alpha addict. Her writing is best described as sinfully sexy, and her characters always fall hard and deep for one another.
She lives in the UK with her husband and two young daughters. If she ever found herself stranded on a desert island, she’d like a large pink gin to keep her company. Cillian Murphy wouldn’t be a bad shout either…
Genre: Mafia Romance Cover Design: Maria Simanovich, Steamy Designs Photo: Wander Aguiar Model: Andrew Biernat Release Date: July 28, 2020
Blurb:
They call this place the Billionaires’ Playground. I, Aiden Knight, staked my claim the minute I arrived. I crossed every line. I painted their Rococo ceilings with blood. Now my casino is the hottest church in town, And vice is the only confession required. My house. My rules. Until the past comes calling with an offer I can’t refuse: One week to seduce and break her. All this for the name of the man who killed my father.
Issa Dubov is the queen of cloudy diamonds: She’s a hard truth concealed beneath a pall of lies. I’m an Armani black suit of spades: Determined to bury both her and my demons. I never asked to see the shape of her heart. I never asked for her to fill the blank spaces of mine.
But the mafia wants her secrets. I wasn’t the first she betrayed. And Issa? Sweet, not-so-innocent Issa? She’s gone and left me with a debt no sinner can pay.
Catherine Wiltcher is a bestselling author of ten dark romance novels, a former TV producer, and a self-confessed alpha addict. Her writing is best described as sinfully sexy, and her characters always fall hard and deep for one another.
She lives in the UK with her husband and two young daughters. If she ever found herself stranded on a desert island, she’d like a large pink gin to keep her company. Cillian Murphy wouldn’t be a bad shout either…
I received an ARC copy of this book for an honest review
My Review:
I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
Love, suspense, Mafia business. Everything you look for in a Mafia Romance.
This is the first novel I’ve read by Sophia Peony and she’s made me a fan. I loved that the book wasn’t too lovey dovey. I loved that there was enough romance, suspense and Mafia business going around.
Castle is a broken man and Alice has no idea what she’s getting herself into by getting involved with him. Yet, they can’t seem to stay away from each other. They’re lingering in each other’s minds.
This is a story of love at first sight and resistance to feel it, for fear of getting an innocent involved in the business.
When you’re almost killed, not once, but twice, finding out your father is a mafia boss doesn’t seem so bad. What is bad, though, is the feelings I’m trying to hide toward John, my father’s personal assassin. With his brooding, bad boy aura and intense blue eyes, I know he could command anything from me and I would obey. His eyes, though sinister, say they want to touch me, to kiss me, to cross that line we know is forbidden. I feel drawn to him. His presence calls to me like a beacon. Even though my father took him in and molded him into what he is today—a merciless killer— my father will be even more merciless when it comes to his only heir. Nothing but a brutal and violent death will be waiting for John if my father ever finds out. But I don’t know if either of us are strong enough to stay away.
(Disclaimer: this is a mature, new adult book with explicit sex scenes and violence. 18+ readers only.)
My Review:
I enjoyed it. Read it in one sitting.
Ruby & John are very protective over each other. They’re both complicated in their own way.
And with all Mafia related stories their has to be some danger. But even this can’t keep them apart. They compliment each other.
It’s a forbidden love story that can’t be kept a secret for long because their emotions give them away.
Hey Candi! What are you reading??? 