Marco Blanchi has always been the muscle. He’s the enforcer of the Blanchi family. A role he revels in the brutality of.
Ivy Hope is just trying to get by. On a good day, her family barely has enough to eat, and now that her brother is ill, they don’t even have that. That’s how Ivy finds herself begging to dance at Red’s, a high-end club in Manhattan. Ivy thinks dancing is her chance to finally get her family out of debt, but before she can take the stage, she finds herself in the wrong place at the worst time and becomes the only witness to a murder that could put Marco Blanchi in prison for good.
Now, Marco must figure out a way to keep Ivy from talking, and she must keep herself alive long enough to figure out what her silence is worth to this mafia prince.
Mafia Prince is the second book in the Crowned Criminals series. While it is not necessary to read, Mafia Princess first, situations and characters will be referenced in this story. Please note that this is a dark romance not suitable for those under eighteen.
Kennedy Slope has always had a wandering mind. She’s written a million romances in her head, but “The Duke’s Contract,” is the first one she’s decided to share with the world. In her past lives, she has been a teacher, a waitress, and for a brief moment, she sold copiers. Currently, she resides in Virginia with her husband where she enjoys drinking too much coffee and binge-watching HGTV.
Title: At Last Author: Krista Harper Genre: Contemporary Romance
wo years ago, Tyler Reid left the California Coastline in search of a new start. One that didn’t include Genevieve Lawson and the disastrous ending to their life together. Stubborn and alone, Reid is determined to move forward but remains haunted by his past and the events that occurred before he left the sleepy beach community.
Reluctantly, Reid finds himself in therapy, forced to deal with his past to embrace his future. But, as he begins to heal, the memories of his upbringing start to unravel, forcing him to question all he’s known about his relationship with Genevieve and those around him.
Determined to make things right, Reid returns to California attempting to make peace with his past and provide both him and Genevieve closure. Only when he arrives, their encounter takes a turn neither expected, nearly derailing his progress and their plans.
Can the two put aside the past for a chance at a possible future?
What You Can Expect From, At Last: ~ Wounded Hero Determined to Heal ~ Torn Heroine Afraid of Being Hurt Again ~ Redemption Story ~ Two-Hour Short Read with All the Feels ~ Guaranteed Happily Ever After
“Tyler Reid,” I said, extending my hand. “Most people call me Reid.”
“Yes, Reid.” He smiled, returning my grip. “Hello, I’m Dr. Rodsen.”
Dr. Rodsen was a small man who looked as though he’d spent most of his time indoors with a good book. He was maybe in his late 50’s and wore navy khakis with a button-down shirt; his wire-rimmed glasses perched on top of his head. Our hands dropped, and I quickly placed mine into the front pockets of my blue jeans, looking around the room.
“Please,” said Dr. Rodsen, gesturing to the sofa. “Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable.”
“Thank you,” I replied, choosing a seat the furthest away from the good doctor.
“So, Reid, before we dive in here. I just wanted to say thank you for coming in and meeting with me today. As you know, this isn’t a full session, but instead more of a ‘meet and greet’ if you will, to make sure you feel comfortable.” He smiled. “Also, I wanted you to know that your files arrived from Dr. Garrison for my review, per your request, and I must say, it’s somewhat unorthodox for me to receive such extensive files from another therapist.”
“Well, Dr. Rodsen.” I leaned in. “I wanted to start at the present instead of drudging back through my entire childhood and adolescence again. I’ve had a great life. I’ve lived it. I’ve talked about it. I want to move on.”
“I see,” he said, removing the glasses from atop his head and putting them on. He picked up a pad of paper and pen from the small table in between us and began scanning the pages. “Well, after reviewing your file, I did have a few questions that I found pertinent. And I’d like to begin with those, if I may?”
“Of course.” I nodded.
“Now, your records indicate that you were adopted, however reading through your files, there isn’t much mention of this.”
“There isn’t much to mention,” I said, my hands folded on top of my lap.
“Well.” He hesitated. “If I may?”
“Of course.”
“At what age did you become aware of your adoption?”
“I believe I was fifteen at the time.”
“Fifteen? My, that is an awfully long time to wait to tell you. How did your adoptive parents broach the subject?”
I shifted in my seat. “You mean my parents.” I corrected him, my jaw clenched.
“Oh, why yes, Reid.” He looked up from his notepad, his brows furrowed. “Your parents. Does it bother you that I called them your adoptive parents?”
“No.” I lied. “However, they are just my parents. No adjectives are needed.”
“Thank you. That is noted.” He cleared his throat before beginning again. “How did your parents broach the subject of your adoption?”
“Well, in all honesty, it was me who broached the subject Dr. Rodsen. I was a punk teenager and was digging through my father’s study, looking for the key to the liquor cabinet, when I found the documentation.”
“That must have been quite the finding, Reid.”
I nodded.
“And what happened after that?” Dr. Rodsen asked. “You approached your parents?”
“Indirectly, yes.”
“Indirectly?” “
I did eventually also find the key to the liquor cabinet.” I paused a moment at the painful memory. “I opened the file and spread the paperwork, page by page, out on the floor of my Father’s office, then proceeded to drink half a bottle of 30-year-old scotch. My parents found me that night in the office.”
Krista Harper is a contemporary romance and romantic comedy writer.
The first in her family to attend college, she received a practical degree in nursing before pursuing her MFA at the age of 40.
A Chicago native, Krista currently resides in the Colorado mountains with her partner, two kids and four rescues, where she enjoys being nature adjacent.
Selah’s biggest dilemma was trying to decide what to study in college. That is, until she stumbled across a clue to the grandparents she’d never met and hopped on a plane to Mexico where she would discover an entire hidden world of magic and monsters. Her best friend was a bruja, the Chupacabra was more than a myth, and she’d inadvertently caught the attention of the terrifying Blood King with beautiful golden eyes. What started as a two-week vacation quickly devolved into an adventure she might never return from.
Día de los Muertos had almost arrived and the monsters were on the hunt.
“G’night,” Noa yawned finally before claiming the remaining bedroom next door.
I moved to shut my own door when Rafael prowled past, likely heading towards his own room at the end of the hall. At least I guessed it was his as it was the only door kept firmly shut. Seeming to sense my gaze, he pivoted and met me at the doorway. Leaning against the frame with his arms crossed he stared deep into my eyes almost as if searching for answers in there though he must not find them because a frown quickly tugged at his mouth.
“How did you and your friend meet?” he asked curiously.
My fingers fiddled nervously with the doorknob as a fond smile lit up my face. “School. We’ve gone to the same school since I can remember and she was always in my classes, sitting with me at lunch, wanting to be my friend. Noa is pretty direct. When she decides something, she makes it happen.”
“I can see that,” he nodded tersely.
Wanting to smooth things over, I thanked him. “I’m really very sorry about the mix up, but thank you for letting us stay. We really don’t mind finding a hotel tomorrow,” I assured him. “This is your home and we don’t want to intrude.”
Something I said, though I couldn’t guess what, caused his lips to twitch. “You are free to stay. I do not mind.” I arched an eyebrow and he released an amused huff. “Much,” he amended.
“Well, thank you,” I offered again. “You are very kind and generous to offer.”
“Not many would use those words to describe me,” he shook his head, his voice low enough that I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear him.
“Then they don’t know you,” I answered anyway. It was an impulsive response because I didn’t know him beyond his name and yet it felt right. Or maybe I was just a people pleaser like Noa teased me of being.
Even if offered in ignorance, my words made him pause. “Call me Rafi,” he smiled. Then with a shove off the door frame, he resumed prowling towards his room.
Leaning out into the hall, I called softly so as not to disturb Noa, “Goodnight, Rafi.” He sent me a final glance. “Buenas noches, Selah.”
Talis Jones is a Mexican-English author of magic and mischief. Graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in Theatre she has explored both stage and film, now finding herself drawn towards the literary world as a new venue for storytelling.
Dog mom, Broadway enthusiast, and life-long bibliophile, Talis currently resides in North Carolina.
