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Showing posts with label Pepper Winters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pepper Winters. Show all posts

24 November 2016

Release Blitz ~ Dollar$, Dollar Series #2, by Pepper Winters


“I should never have asked for a night with you. This would never have happened if I’d had more willpower.” 


The story continues in Dollar$ by Pepper Winters

Now Live!

Amazon US | UK



Blurb

A thief met a possession and did what he did best.
Now, he has to live with the consequences.
Including the girl he claimed.

Pimlico was stolen and sold all before her twenty-first birthday.
Two years with a master who almost killed her is over.
She has a new master now.
A master who demands everything, expects everything, and requires ultimate access to her mind.

Elder broke countless rules when he took the girl who wasn’t his.
She confuses and bewitches him, but his fascination won’t save her from his desires.

He wants to know her.
She wants to forget.
Together…they’re doomed.


Pennie$
Book One in the Dollar Series


Hundred$
Book Three in the Dollar Series
Release date to be determined

Amazon US | UK

Thousand$
Book Four in the Dollar Series
Release date to be determined

Amazon US | UK

Million$
Book Five in the Dollar Series
Release date to be determined

Amazon US | UK


About The Author

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.


02 June 2016

Book Tour ~ Je Suis a Toi by Pepper Winters



“Life taught me an eternal love will demand the worst sacrifices. A transcendent love will split your soul, cleaving you into pieces. A love this strong doesn’t grant you sweetness—it grants you pain. And in that pain is the greatest pleasure of all.”

Q is Back in Je Suis A Toi by Pepper Winters!

Now Live!

Amazon US | UK


Blurb

Q made me the happiest esclave in the world. He gave me his heart, his empire, his ruthless unforgiving love. And life finally left us in peace. 

A man like my maître has special needs though, growing stronger as our lives intertwine. The only way to survive his monster is to agree to all his desires. 

Including his latest wish. 

I’m his. 

And I won’t refuse.


Excerpt

“Don’t struggle. You know I’ll keep you safe.” Q’s murmur danced down my back.

My panic receded as trust billowed fast and true.

Q was born into darkness, but he’d never baptized me in his blackest desires. And because of that, I could implicitly say he spoke the truth. No matter what he did to me, he would never truly harm me.

Q paused, his tattooed chest soaking. His feathered sparrows fluffing off droplets almost alive on his skin. “I told you once never to fall for me. That I didn’t want the curse of breaking your heart while I broke so many other pieces of you.” His hands landed on my breasts, cupping them reverently. “Yet you fought me, just like you said you would. You fell for me, just like you promised me you would. And now, you’re willing to give me what I need even after I tricked you and lied.”

I swayed as I fell even deeper for this complex husband of mine. Q was all my fantasies in one glorious lifetime. The fact he finally wanted to share me with his child spoke volumes about his capacity to love.

“I’m so glad you ignored me, esclave.” His fingertips branded my nipples with pain. “So fucking happy you married me.” Pushing me backward, he smiled harshly as my spine met the pool wall. His chest strained as he sucked in a heavy breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

My heart hammered in my ears as he kissed me.

His tongue laced with mine, and I sank into the sweet embrace, knowing it would be the last I received tonight. The air crackled with an impending storm. Q’s control frayed every second, his eyes drenching in determination and the salacious need to hurt.

Breaking the kiss, he opened his hand, revealing the other item he’d retrieved.A tiny pair of silver scissors.


Haven’t met Q & Tess yet?

Grab the Monsters in the Dark Box Set

Amazon US | UK

About The Author

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Stalk Pepper

18 May 2016

Excerpt Reveal ~ Je Suis A Toi, Monsters In The Dark #4, by Pepper Winters


Excerpt

“You obeyed me.”

Her head bowed, her legs spreading wider, revealing the gift I worshiped daily between her legs. “I did. I look forward to my reward.”

My lips curled; the darkness enveloped me. The beast inside stretched, unsheathing its claws, lengthening its spine in preparation.

I stalked toward her and fisted her hair. I fell more in love than I already was.

This woman made me come alive. This woman would end up killing me. But my life was already hers, and I would die gratefully on the pyre of her affection.

Tu connaiss les règles, esclave.” You know the rules.

“What rules, maître?”

“You don’t get your reward until you’ve been punished.”

Her gaze glittered with rebellion and retaliation but not one ounce of fear—the perfect cocktail for a bastard like me. “Go ahead. You’ll never break me.”

“Ah, my sweet, sweet Tess. That might be the case…” I nipped at her bottom lip. “Mais ça ne m'empêchera pas d’essayer.” But it won’t stop me from trying.

Dropping the black bag by her spread legs, I tugged on her right plait. “Up.”

Unfolding immediately, she stood quivering before me. Her chest rose and fell, imprisoned in the dark red bra I’d handpicked for her. Her flat stomach shadowed with faint bruises from previous nights, and I traced the bite mark I’d left on her hipbone after our parlour games.

I wanted to do what I’d planned now. To get it over with before she could have second thoughts. But I restrained myself. Anticipation would make it that much sweeter.

Gripping her jaw, I kissed her with a wet-as-fuck dominating kiss before pushing her backward to the bed.

She obeyed every prompt. Falling onto the bedspread, she watched me with desire-glittering eyes.

This room was very much like our assigned accommodation, only smaller. The fireplace roared with heat and the four-poster bed hung with midnight blue drapery rather than forest green.

My jeans and t-shirt became too tight as my body prepared to tease and torture.

Tess squirmed on the mattress as I moved toward her and yanked her up the bed by her arms. The moment she was in the middle, I uncoiled a piece of Japanese silk rope from my pocket and looped it around her wrist.

With a sharp smile, I secured her to one of the four bedposts.

It was a risk tying her down like this. After all, she’d done the same to me when I’d given her my nightmares to hopefully break hers. However, no memory of that day hovered in her gaze. Her skin already flushed with lust as I fastened her other wrist and moved toward her ankles.

She didn’t speak—she was too well trained—but her eyes never left my ministrations.

She gasped as my fingers ran around her ankle, cupping her heel protectively before wrenching her legs apart and securing them as tight as her wrists.

Once finished, she lay spread-eagled with no hope of escape.

I stood and surveyed my fucking delicious woman. The lingerie barely hid her bare pussy, shadowing it in red lace while her bra couldn’t hide the pinpricks of nipples begging me to bite.

Running a fingertip from her instep to her clit, I murmured, “So pretty and no chance of running. What shall I do with you?”

Her hands fisted, her lips parting with breath. “Anything…do anything you want.”

“Anything?” My fingers pinched her pussy, indenting her soft flesh with the lace protecting her.

She gasped, white cheeks flushing so prettily. The scrap of material couldn’t hide how wet and hot she was, drenching the delicate underwear. Her desire matched mine. I was rock-fucking-hard for her.

“I’ll give you a choice, Tess.” Rubbing her pussy, I pressed hard and swift. “Pain or pleasure first? You make the call.”

Her back bowed as I stabbed at her entrance, prevented from entering her by the lacy garment. Soon, that bastard chastity belt would have to be sliced away. But for now, it kept me focused. Gave me a barrier I wasn’t permitted to break.

Her eyes switched from dove-grey to dark blizzard. “Pain…I pick pain first.”

I shook my head, stealing my hand from her core and bending to unzip my black bag. “Wrong choice.”


Life taught me an eternal love will demand the worst sacrifices. A transcendent love will split your soul, cleaving you into pieces. A love this strong doesn’t grant you sweetness—it grants you pain. And in that pain is the greatest pleasure of all.

Je Suis A Toi by Pepper Winters releases on May 31st.

Pre-order on iBooks

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Blurb

Q made me the happiest esclave in the world. He gave me his heart, his empire, his ruthless unforgiving love. And life finally left us in peace. 

A man like my maître has special needs though, growing stronger as our lives intertwine. The only way to survive his monster is to agree to all his desires. 

Including his latest wish. 

I’m his. 

And I won’t refuse.


Haven’t met Q & Tess yet?

Grab the Monsters in the Dark Box Set

Amazon US | UK


About The Author

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.


She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Stalk Pepper

03 December 2015

Release Blitz & Giveaway ~ Final Debt, Indebted #6, by Pepper Winters



More Jethro & Nila?

Yes Please!

Read the exciting conclusion & Bonus Epilogue NOW! 

FINAL Debt is LIVE! 

Amazon US | UK
iBooks | B&N | Kobo


Blurb

The Last Book in the New York Times Bestselling Dark Romance Series. 

Where love tries to triumph and darkness continues to reign....

"I'm in love with her, but it might not be enough to stop her from becoming the latest victim of the Debt Inheritance. I know who I am now. I know what I must do. We will be together--I just hope it's on Earth rather than in heaven."

It all comes down to this.

Love versus life.

Debts versus death.

Who will win?

There is also a BONUS BOOK: Indebted Epilogue OUT NOW.


Indebted Epilogue ONLY $0.99

Amazon US | UK
iBooks | B&N | Kobo


Excerpt
Final Debt


“READY TO DIE, Nila?”

Cut’s voice physically hurt me as he forced me to my knees. The ballroom splendour mocked me as I bowed unwillingly at the feet of my executioner.

Velvet and hand-stitched crewel on the walls glittered like the diamonds the Hawks smuggled—a direct contrast to the roughly sawn wood and crude craftsmanship of the guillotine dais. No finesse. No pride. Just a raised podium, framework cushioning a large tarnished blade, and a rope dangling to the side.

“Don’t do this. Cut…think about what you’ve become. You can stop this.” My voice mimicked a beg but I’d vowed not to beg. I’d seen things, understood things, and suffered things I never thought I would be able to endure. I refused to cry or grovel. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“In five minutes, this will all be over, Weaver.” Cut bent to the side and collected a wicker basket.

The wicker basket.

I didn’t want to think about what its contents would be.

He placed it on the other side of the wooden block.

My lungs demanded more oxygen. My brain demanded more time. And my heart…it demanded more hope, more life, more love.

I’m not ready.

Not like this.

“Cut—”

“No. No more talking. Not after everything you’ve done.” Ripping a black hood from his pocket, he didn’t hesitate. No fanfare. No second guesses.

I cried out as the scratchy blackness engulfed my face, tightening by a cord around my throat.

The Weaver Wailer chilled me. The diamond collar that’d seen what I’d seen and whispered with phantoms of my slain family prepared to revoke its claim and detach from around my neck.

This was it.

The Final Debt.

Cut pushed my shoulders forward.

A heavy yoke settled over the top of my spine.

I closed my eyes.

I said goodbye.



I waited to die.



One Week Earlier

“NO!”

I pushed back, gripping the handrails of the private jet, throwing my weight against Daniel’s incessant pushing. “Stop!”

“Get up the fucking stairs, Weaver.” Daniel jabbed his elbow into my spine.

I stumbled, bashing my knee against the high tread. “You can’t do this!” How had this happened? How had mere hours turned the entire universe against me? Again.

I wanted to smash every clock. Tear out the cog from every watch.

Time had once again stolen my life.

Jethro!

Daniel cackled. “I think you’ll find we can.” He shoved me higher.

My heart hurt—as if every mile between us and Hawksridge was a blade slicing me further from Jethro’s protection—a disharmony in an already discorded symphony.

One moment, I’d been love-bruised and adored, tiptoeing back into the Hall; the next, I was trapped, forced to dress in jeans and a hoodie, and obey Daniel as he lurked in my doorway, barking orders to pack a few meagre belongings.

He hadn’t left me alone.

His eyes followed my every move. I couldn’t grab the gun I’d hidden thanks to Jasmine. I couldn’t text Jethro to tell him I’d been caught. All I could do was run around my room with my lover’s release still damp on my inner thighs and submit to my nemesis.

The only saving grace was beneath Daniel’s hateful stare, I’d managed to pack the clothing I’d altered a few weeks ago. The cuffs full of needles and hems armoured with tools of my seamstress trade. Those garments were my only hope. There was no loophole. No way to refuse.

I had to trust Jasmine would get word to Jethro. That he would come for me…

Before it’s too late.

The desolation I’d suffered when Daniel first caught me faded to indignant anger. I’d been so close to being free. I’d been in Jethro’s arms. I’d been away from his psychotic family. My heart hardened a little toward Jethro for making me go back.

Why? Why did you send me back?

I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to forgive him.

You know why. And you will. Of course, you will.

I couldn’t hate him because I wasn’t selfish. He’d sent me back to protect all of us. Those precious few who’d accepted him and he’d accepted in return. Love was the worst enemy, winding its commitment, ensuring no freedom when it came to clearheaded thinking of adversity.

Jethro loved too much. Felt too much. Suffered too much. And his siblings would be our downfall. Kestrel and Jasmine relied on him—just like I did. The responsibility of settling his family’s wrongs was a terrible burden to bear.

But he’s not alone.

I might’ve been stolen. Jethro’s plans to save me might be ruined. But I was still alive. Still breathing. I wasn’t the naïve girl who’d first arrived at Hawksridge. I was a woman in love with a Hawk. A Weaver who would draw Hawk blood.

It’s not over…

Pain exploded in my spine as Daniel stabbed me with his fist. “Get in the fucking airplane.”

“No!” I threw myself backward, looking frantically at the private hangar. We weren’t at Heathrow, but a small, private airfield called Turweston. “I won’t!”

No strangers I could call for help.

No police or air marshals.

When Daniel had stalked me from my room and shoved me outside, Cut had been waiting. With a victorious smile, he’d stuffed me in the back of a limousine.

With a purring engine, we’d pulled away from Hawksridge, tyres crunching on gravel as we followed the long driveway off the estate.

My eyes had scoured the trees, their silhouettes growing stronger as the sun tinted the sky with pink blushes. Daniel and Cut sat opposite me, toasting each other with a chilled bottle of champagne. However, I hadn’t been alone on my side of the limo—I had a guard.

Marquise, Bonnie’s damn henchman, sat beside me; a mountain of muscle, unyielding and impenetrable.

“Come along.” A strange voice raised my gaze.

A man in a captain’s uniform smiled from the top of the aircraft steps. The private plane’s fuselage glinted in graphite grey. Sparkling diamonds, inlaid in the shape of a windswept ribbon, decorated the tail.

“I don’t want to leave England.”

Daniel laughed behind me. “Like you have a choice.”

“I always have a choice, Buzzard.” I glowered over my shoulder. “Just like this choice of yours will not end well for you.”

If I don’t kill you, Jethro will.

As far as Daniel knew, his slain brother was supposedly rotting in some unmarked grave. Jethro was right. The element of surprise trumped any of Cut and Daniel’s grand delusions.

He snarled, “Watch it, bitch. Everything you say to me here will be paid in full when we’re there.”

“Now, now. No need for threats.” The captain climbed down a rung, holding out his hand. “She’ll get on board. Won’t you, my dear? No need to be afraid of flying. I have an exemplary record.” White hair tufted from either side of his pristine flying cap. In his mid-fifties, he looked fit and toned and impatient to take off.

“I can’t leave.”

I can’t be so far from Jethro.

The captain smiled, waving at his vessel. “Of course, you can. Plus, I bet you’ve never travelled in such style.”

“It’s nothing against your mode of transport. It’s the destination I disagree to. I’m staying here.” I dug my heels into the metal grate, fighting against Daniel’s perpetual pushing. “I don’t have my passport, visa… I can’t travel across borders, so you might as well let me return home.”

Home.

Had Hawksridge Hall become my home?

No, don’t be absurd.

But Jethro had. It didn’t matter where we ended up. What we did for work. How our lives panned out. As long as I was alive with Jethro by my side…I would be home.

“Don’t fuss about that.” The captain waved his hand in invitation. “Travel is good for the soul.”

Not my soul.

Travel meant my soul would become untethered from my body, thanks to Cut and the Final Debt.

The sun barely peeked over the horizon, hidden by soupy fog and reluctant night. The world refused to warm, unable to shed the morning frost or dislodge the claws of winter. England didn’t want to say goodbye as much as I did, its reluctant dawn wanting me to stay.

“If you don’t get on the motherfucking plane in two seconds, Weaver, you’ll live to regret it,” Daniel growled.

I glared at the youngest Hawk. “Haven’t you learned by now your threats don’t scare me?”

Forcing myself to stand taller, I hid the quaking in my bones, the quivering in muscles, the rampant terror scurrying in my blood. “I know where you want to take me, and I refuse.”

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. A second later, he cuffed me on the back of the head. “Behave!”

I gritted my teeth against the wash of agony.

“Almasi Kipanga is a fucking treat for the likes of you, Weaver. Get on your knees and show some goddamn appreciation. Otherwise, I’ll rip out your fucking tongue and ensure peace for the rest of the trip.”

“Ah, as I said, there’s no need for violence.” The captain took another step, prying my hand off the railing and tugging me upward. “Come along, my dear. Let’s get you inside. And don’t you worry about visas and things. Leave it to me. Airport control won’t be an issue.”

Vertigo cast the world in monochromatic greys as I swayed toward the captain. “But—”

Cut barrelled past Daniel—reaching the end of his patience. Grabbing my arse, he shoved me upward, forcing me like unwilling livestock up the final steps. “I have your passport, Nila. Get on the plane.” His breath skated over the back of my neck. “And don’t think about refusing again. Got it?”

Gripping the fuselage, I looked over my shoulder. “My passport? How did you—”

He waved a black binder in my face. “Everything is in here. You have no more excuses, and I won’t ask again. Get on the fucking plane or I’ll knock you out and you can wake up when we get there.”


Series Reading Order

Debt Inheritance (Indebted #1) FREE


First Debt (Indebted #2) 

Second Debt (Indebted #3) 

Third Debt (Indebted #4)

Fourth Debt (Indebted #5) 

Final Debt (Indebted #6)
Amazon US | UK
iBooks | B&N | Kobo

Indebted Epilogue (Indebted #7)
Amazon US | UK
iBooks | B&N | Kobo


About The Author


Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1) 
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2) 

Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed 

Stalk Pepper


Giveaway
$50.00 Amazon Card
Signed Copy of Indebted Epilogue

13 August 2015

Blog Tour ~ Fourth Debt, Indebted #5, by Pepper Winters



More Jethro & Nila?
Yes Please!

Fourth Debt is LIVE!

Amazon US | UK




Blurb

Fifth Book in the New York Times Bestselling Series. 

“We’d won. We’d cut through the lies and treachery and promised an alliance that would free us both. But even as we won, we lost. We didn’t see what was coming. We didn’t know we had to plan a resurrection.”

Nila Weaver fell in love. She gifted her entire soul to a man she believed was worthy. And in the process, she destroyed herself. Three debts paid, the fourth only days away. The Debt Inheritance has almost claimed another victim.

Jethro Hawk fell in love. He let down his walls to a woman he believed was his cure. For a moment, he was free. But then he paid the ultimate price.

There is no more love. Only war. Hope is dead. Now, there is only death all around them.

**Only suitable for Dark Romance lovers.**
Full length book. Six in series. Fourth Debt is 85,000 words.



FUNNY HOW LIFE plays practical jokes.

The past few days—that had to be a fucking joke, right?

No logical answer would make sense of what I’d seen, heard, and lived the past seventy-two hours.

My sister.

My best friend and twin.

This was what she’d been living with? This was how she’d been treated?

This was what she wanted to return to?

Motherfucking why? Why would she ever want to return to this insanity?

We’d been raised in a broken home, chained to an empire that absorbed us right from birth. But we were kept safe, warm, and loved. We grew up together. We shared everything.

But now…I had no fucking clue who my sister was.

But then she came to me.

A woman I never knew existed.

The most stunning creature I’d ever seen.

Only she didn’t come to me on feet or wings of an angel. She rolled into my life and demanded my help.

And for better or for worse…

I helped her.



“LET ME GO!”

Daniel cackled like a mad hyena, his fingers stabbing into my bicep. Without breaking his stride, he stole me further away from the parlour and into the bowels of the house.

I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere with him.

“Take me back!”

He can’t be dead!

Just because he lay unmoving and bloody didn’t mean he was gone.

That’s exactly what it means.

I shook my head, dislodging those awful thoughts. He’s alive. He had to be.

I couldn’t tolerate any other answer. I refused to live in a world where evil triumphed over good. That wasn’t right—life couldn’t be that cruel.

It’s always been that way.

My mind filled with images of my mother. My father’s desolation. My broken childhood. Evil had puppeteered us from day one. Why should now be any different?

He’s not dead!

I swallowed a sob.

Please don’t be dead…

I fought harder. “Let me see him. You can’t do this!”

Daniel cackled louder. “Keep begging, Weaver. Won’t do you any good.”

He’s not dead!

I locked my knees, fighting him every step. “Stop!” Looking back the way we’d come, the door to the parlour seemed so far away—a bright beacon at the end of a festering corridor. “They were your brothers, you insane psychopath. Don’t you feel anything?!”

Please let me go to him. He has to be alive…

Please let my twin stay alive…

Let all of this be a nightmare!

I couldn’t cope with Jethro murdered; I’d go clinically insane if they killed V, too. 

“I feel relief. I no longer have to put up with their simpering bullshit.” He flashed his teeth. “Cut did us all a favour.”

Cut will die. 

He was evil incarnate. He deserved to die in excruciatingly painful ways.

I refuse to believe they’re dead. 

“I said stop!” I wriggled harder, only succeeding in Daniel’s fingers tearing into my flesh. Goosebumps covered my skin while ice steadily froze my veins. Every second was endless torture. I couldn’t live without Jethro.

It can’t end like this! 

“You won’t win, Weaver.” Daniel tugged harder. “Accept what’s fucking happened and obey me.”


Excerpt #2

Cut shook his head, looking at his mother. “They never fucking learn.”

Bonnie laughed. “Neither did you, dear. Not for a long time.”

He wrapped an arm around her brittle shoulders. “I can’t imagine ever being so terrible.”

My fingernails dug into my palm as I witnessed a seemingly normal bond. How could evil have so many layers? How could it be so obvious one moment, then hidden by family ties and hierarchy the next?

Bonnie tapped her cane against Cut’s foot. “You’re not forgetting what you did, are you? Because I have news for you—you were worse. A lot worse.” Moving forward, she dislodged his hold. “But I straightened out the mess you made. I put things right. I have every faith you will, too.”

Cut nodded. “Damn right, I will.” His eyes strained but apart from a few cracks in his smooth veneer, I would never have guessed he’d pulled the trigger on two of his children.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

All because of me.

Inching closer to Jasmine, I whispered so only she would hear. “He tried to shoot you, but Jethro saved you. Do you have no shame?”

Her eyes zeroed in on mine. Thoughts and emotions flickered over her face but she didn’t reply.

Her betrayal hurt. Jethro and Kes had loved her. They’d died for her. Who could claim to love them in return yet continue to be in the same house as the man who’d shot them?

My stomach twisted. “You make me sick.”

Her hands tightened around the rims of her wheels. Shutters slammed over her eyes, but still no response.

Tears stung but I had nothing else to say. Only one promise that she might as well hear, so she’d know who truly loved her brother. “I’ll kill you for this. Just like I’ll kill them.”


Series Reading Order

Debt Inheritance
(Indebted #1)
Free

First Debt
(Indebted #2) 

Second Debt
(Indebted #3) 

Third Debt
(Indebted #4) 

Fourth Debt
(Indebted #5) 


About the Author

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex. 

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends. 

Her Dark Erotica books include
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1) 
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2) 

Her Grey Romance books include
Destroyed 

STALK Pepper


08 July 2015

Book Tour ~ Ruin & Rule by Pepper Winters




Meet Killian in Pepper Winter’s new MC Romance!

NOW AVAILABLE

Amazon | Amazon UK
iBooks | Nook
Kobo | Google Play



Blurb

"We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . ."

RUIN & RULE

She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she's lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .

He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.

Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?

"Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill's story continues in SIN & SUFFER."



Prologue

We met in a nightmare.

The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.

There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.

Just us. In our silent dreamworld.

That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.

We fell in love. We fell hard.

In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.

But then we woke up.

And it was over.


Chapter One

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

—Kill

Darkness.

That was my world now. Literally and physically.

The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.

Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.

I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.

Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.

Fear never helps, only hinders.

My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.

Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.

Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?

Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.

It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.

My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.

I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.

I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.

Get through this, then worry about them.

I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.

Had I been at a party? Nightclub?

Nothing.

I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…

No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.

I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.

I tried to swallow.

No saliva.

I tried to speak.

No voice.

I tried to remember what happened.

I tried to remember…

Panic.

Nothing.

I can’t remember.

“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”

I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.

I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.

“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.

“Call me the moment you get there.”

“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—

The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.

Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?

“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.

Unfortunately.

My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.

My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.

This was real.

This is real.

My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.

I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.

Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.

I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.

But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.

The pushing stopped. So did I.

Big mistake.

“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?

Bare feet?

Where are my shoes?

The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.

Where did I come from?

How did I end up here?

What’s my name?

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.

How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?

Who am I?

To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.

“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.

“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.

“Again.”

I obeyed.

“Last one.”

I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.

My face.

What do I look like?

A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.

“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?

Why…why is that so familiar?

I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.

“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.

My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.

Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.

Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”

“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.

“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”

Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.

Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.

Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.

I fell.

My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.

Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.

My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.

I’m a vet.

The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.

I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.

Tell me! Show me. Who am I?

I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.

I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.

That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.

Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.

I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?

Another body landed on top of mine.

I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.

The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.

Why aren’t I crying?

I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.

My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.

My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.

I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.

“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”

The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.

Immense power. Colossal power.

A shiver darted over my skin.

“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.

A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.

“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.

“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”

“I am. Have been for the past four years.”

“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”

Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.

The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”

Another moan.

“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”

Another tremor ran down my back.

Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”

“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”

My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.

The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.

A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”

The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”

I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.

A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.

Murder.

Murder was committed right before me.

The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.

Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.

I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.

I’m a witness.

And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.

I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.

My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?

The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.

Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.

“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”

“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”

“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”

Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.

He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.

Needed.

I need to know who he is.

Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.

The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.

I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.

I needed proof that this was real.

I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.

I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.

The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.

I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.

The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.

He’s hurt.

The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.

Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.

Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.

I’m alive.

I can see.

The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.

Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green.

I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.

My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.

I quivered. I quaked.

Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.

Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.

Him.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare I wanted to live.

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.

He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”

My heart raced. Yes.

“You know me,” I breathed.

The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.

He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.

I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”

When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.

I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.

I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.

I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.

This was him.

My nightmare.

 
About the Author
 
Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed

STALK Pepper