Once
a masked superhero, Mac Gamble is a cage fighter using his infamy to attract a
crowd, until the cop who ran him out of town asks him to track down a dangerous
vigilante.
Once an ambitious cop determined to
continue in her brother's footsteps, Lana Rossini craves vengeance. The
abilities she acquired in the same explosion that killed her brother allow her
to hunt the streets at night for those who betrayed him. Yet, during the day
she is a helpless invalid, unable to stand the thinnest light.
She doesn’t expect the man sent after her to be the one whose powers she somehow stole, a man she thought abandoned her to blindness, a man she can't allow herself to love.
She doesn’t expect the man sent after her to be the one whose powers she somehow stole, a man she thought abandoned her to blindness, a man she can't allow herself to love.
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Excerpt:
“You know who you’re
dealing with? That’s Narc. San Mike’s hero, asshole.”
“He’s not a hero now.”
She couldn’t stop looking at Narc, craving his heat, the same as when he had
been Mac Gamble, an Aikido instructor with a low voice and rare brilliant
smile.
“Neither are you.” His
voice lashed out in a rope of silk, a rough-edged caress she had no business
wanting.
His cool, merciless gaze
held hers, daring her to move, to flee, to stay and challenge him. Her pulse
threatened to rip out of her veins.
“My fight isn’t with you
Narc.”
Mendoza wrenched under
her hold, beating at her with his free hand. His fist bounced off the thin
level of power she kept around her skin, using the rest to form a barrier
between herself and Mac, splitting her focus, gritting her teeth in effort to keep
the energy in place.
“Give me the cops you
work for and it’ll be over.”
Another hard desperate
tug, while Narc—she had to think of him as Narc—pushed his weight at her
shields less than three feet away.
“The cops I work for?
Dozens. You think I got everyone’s name?”
A fist against the
shield had the same effect as a punch in the gut.
“I know how this works.”
Mac’s voice snapped over her in a caress of pain and pleasure. “You’re fighting
to keep focus. It’s not going to hold.”
She had no control here,
in the dark, trapped in a bubble of her own power. Three years since she’d seen
him last. A lifetime since he breathed life back into her lungs, that low voice
screaming for her in the burning darkness.
“I thought you didn’t
use your powers.” Fighting for breath and focus, she dragged Mendoza back, his
wrist a taut thick wire in her rapidly numbing fingers. She could let go, face
Mac and fight, blast him with power…. “Come on, Pavlic.”
Mendoza twisted again,
and her shattered focus allowed him enough leeway to jerk her off balance. Mac
pushed into the barrier, splintering her energy in a burst of heat, edging into
her space, crowding her with that big fighter’s body.
She should have clocked
him while she had the last reserve of power. Instead she held the last shreds
of shields tight around her skin, morphing the light surrounding her body to
make her appear even bigger. Her cape snapped with the wind, the edges reaching
out as if begging Mac to touch them.
#superheroromance, #jaydenalexander,
#decadentpub, #blindside
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