Title: Zed
Author: MV Ellis
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Rough Ink, book 1
Release Date: June 29, 2019
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: PopKitty Design
Secrets from his past have scarred his heart. Can he trust her enough to learn to love again?
In the eyes of the law, Iād atoned for the secrets of my past, but in my heart, I knew the debt I owed was too big to ever be repaid. I didnāt ask for forgiveness, because I knew I wasnāt worthy of it. Guilt weighed me down and scarred my heart.
If it wasnāt for my art, Iād probably be dead. The truth was, I had nothing else to live for. Or so I thought until Octavia Douglas came breezing unexpectedly into the picture.
Sexy, stubborn, and smart enough to know better than to throw her future away on a guy like me, Vivi made me question everything I thought I already knew. I suddenly craved the happy ever after Iād never dared dream of, and knew I didnāt deserve.
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/302IEH3
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2PXmH7K
Kota put her head around the door of my office and rapped on the doorframe gently. āKnock knock.ā
I looked up, took one look at her face and immediately realized there was a problem. āHey, K, whatās up?ā
She wrinkled her nose as though sheād smelled something bad.
āSo thereās a āclientā in reception who I need your help with. He wonāt listen to me, and if he carries on, Iām in danger of punching him in the dick. I decided it was best to call in the big guns before it got ugly. And being as youāre the biggest of the bigā¦.ā She winked coyly, faux flirting with me, even though we both knew she was doing no such thing. We also knew she didnāt need to in order to get me to do what she wanted. I loved her like a sisterāmy heart twanged painfully at the thought, as alwaysāand Iād do pretty much anything she needed me to do, in any given circumstance, no questions asked.
I looked over at the monitor that showed me the reception areaāthere was a camera in every treatment room, alsoāand squinted a little, analyzing the grainy black-and-white image.
āIs that a kid? Looks like heās wearing a school uniform.ā
She rolled her eyes, popping her gum impatiently.
āYeah, it is. And he is. And get this. Itās not just any school uniform. Nope, itās none other than St. Josephās.ā
āAs in St. Josephās Academy?ā Of course. I should have fucking known. I couldnāt see the crest on the blazer properly in the poor-quality image, but I ought to have recognized the stripes and trimsātheyād featured in enough of my nightmares, both asleep and awake, to have permanently imprinted themselves on my psyche.
āThe very same. Heās like a baby, and I thiāā
I was out of my seat and marching toward the reception area before she had a chance to finish her sentence. I stormed into the room, practically stomping up to the lone client. Kota scampered behind me, desperately trying to keep in step. I pulled up abruptly and she skidded into my back with an āOomph.ā
āCan I help you?ā I didnāt want to be rude, but on the other hand, I didnāt want to be too welcoming, either. Anything even remotely connected to St. Josephās made my skin crawl right off the bat.
Mr. St. Jās looked at me with watery blue eyes that seemed to be having trouble focusing. What the fuck? Just as Kota had said, he was youngāsixteen, seventeen maybe? Looking at him, I was struck by a strong sense of dĆ©jĆ vu. That feeling and the overwhelming stench of Southern Comfort emanating from his every pore went straight to my gut. SoCo had been the first liquor I ever got sauced on, when I was younger than the little punk standing in front of me. Now it made me want to gag whenever I got even the merest whiff of it.
āYeah, acshully, you can. I want a tatt of this guy on my asssshh.ā He thrust a crumpled photo into my hand. I looked at it. A mostly blond early middle-aged man who seemed vaguely familiar glared out at me. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the laughter that was threatening to spill out in check.
Oh hell no. Not today, Satan.
āWell given that youāre clearly underage, and under the influence, that is the definition of not gonna happen. The doorās that way.ā I nodded toward the front of the store.
āSee ya, kid.ā I nodded again, turned on my heel and started making my way back to my office.
āWhy not, man? I haaaaaaave money. Look.ā His voice came out in a sharp burst, like machine gun fire, and probably louder than heād intended. He jumped a little in surprise.
Christ, heās fucked up.
He rummaged desperately in the front pocket of his leather backpack and retrieved a handful of scrunched bills. Large bills. The action messed with his balance, and as he made his way toward me, every step seemed more unstable than the last. He thrust the money at me, but I stood still, looking at it as though he was clutching poisonous spiders rather than a considerable amount of cash.
āHere, look seeee.ā At another time or place, the slurring might have been kind of funny, but right then it spelled a Class-B misdemeanor, and with my history, up to a yearās jail time. I wanted the kid out of there, stat. Rumpled greens and all.
āI see that, but your moneyās no good here, so I suggest you call Mom, Dad, the driver, or the au pair and have someone come get your drunk and/or high ass, because Iāll be tattooing you just after I put a piercing through Satanās scrotum. So beat it.ā Obviously any pretense of manners had flown out the window on one of the kidās bourbon-infused drunken hiccups.
MV ELLIS knows what itās like to fall head over heels in love with a badass musician. She followed her heart halfway around the world to be with one. She moved from London to Sydney after a steamy holiday romance with a sexy bass player in sultry Brazil.
Twelve years, two children and a dog later, and sheās still smitten. All this with a guy she sat next to on a bus for 36 hours! She has toured internationally as a āWAG,ā and her experiences inspire her writing.
Ellisās love of romance began when she was 11 years old, after a summer spent secretly reading her auntieās books. Sheās been a sucker for an alpha hero and strong heroine ever since.
An avid reader, Ellis always knew sheād write a book of her own one day. She was right about that. Following a career spanning advertising, marketing, and social media, she finally wrote Catching London in 2017.
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