The awaited conclusion to Ruin & Rule has arrived! Check out the excerpt and a giveaway below!
"Some say the past is in the past. That vengeance will hurt both innocent and guilty. I never believed those lies. Once my lust for revenge is sated, I'll say goodbye to hatred. I'll find a new beginning."
She came from a past Arthur "Kill" Killian never forgot. She made him sin and made him suffer. She tugged him from the shadows and showed him he wasn't as dead as he thought. And with her resurrection came betrayal, deceit, and war.
But then they took her. Stole her. Imprisoned her.
Now Kill's carefully laid plans for vengeance are complete. He craves action, retribution-the blood of his enemies. War has begun. War is all they'll know until they've paid their penance. He will get her back-and rewrite their destiny . . .
Be sure to enter the giveaway!
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/26635ce2291
Excerpt
I’d
been raised on a motorbike, and tonight was the first time that I didn’t find
that freedom—that
peace.
The loss of Cleo ate at my soul. The pain of failing her all over again
threatened to crumble me into destruction.
I
rode fast.
I
rode hard.
But
I felt as if I treaded water. Fought against demons. Got fucking
nowhere.
The
hum of tires and growl of engines only worsened my emotional torture. Peace?
What was that? I’d never find peace again if I failed her a second time.
Fuck!
The
speedometer needle climbed higher, teasing the boundaries of red danger.
Hurry up, for Christ’s
sake!
The
journey from Pure Corruption to Dagger Rose was an endless fucking marathon.
Every
stop sign was a mortal enemy, every traffic light my ultimate nemesis.
An
hour we’d been driving and we hadn’t even passed the halfway point.
My
teeth clenched harder as I hunched farther over the bike.
We
were late.
We
were late and I was fucking pissed.
I
was livid at my weakness.
I
was furious at my condition.
And
I was incandescent with rage at Mo and Grasshopper for not finding some way to
fix this clusterfuck.
The
nurse at the hospital had filed charges against me and called the police. She’d
done everything in her power to detain me, all because I couldn’t leash my
temper. She’d refused to give me the forms to sign out. She’d held my fucking
clothes hostage. She’d deliberately antagonized me to the point where I
would’ve probably killed her if Grasshopper hadn’t taken me into a janitor’s
closet, stolen some fat man’s clothes, and thrown them at me.
I
growled under my breath, anxiety and anger circulating hot in my blood. I
needed to fly. I needed this journey to fucking end.
I
need her.
I
shivered as hurtling wind sliced through the horrific Hawaiian print shirt
encasing my broad torso. The sleeves were too short, the chest too tight, and I
couldn’t look at the god-awful
track
pants clinging to my legs.
I
missed my leathers.
Shit,
I missed my own damn bike.
Grasshopper’s
custom Triumph was all wrong. The acceleration sluggish compared to my beast.
The Pure Corruption logo of skulls and all-important abacas was drawn freehand
with glowing flames on the frame.
The
flames seared my heart.
Cleo.
My
mind whooshed with burning houses, smoking remains, and charred dreams of ever
growing old with the girl I loved. She’d witnessed her parents’ double
homicide.
She’d
almost burned to death.
All
because I wasn’t strong enough to save her.
And I’m not strong
enough to save her now.
The
agony of the never-ceasing headache hollered in agreement.
I’m a liability. I don’t
deserve her.
Every
mile we charged, my injuries and shortcomings became more apparent.
My
head hurt like a motherfucker.
My
vision was frighteningly narrowed.
My
mind slothfully slow.
The
joy of thinking in algorithms, the speed of dealing with figures and equations
was . . . damaged.
I
was fuzzy.
I
was lost.
I
hated to admit it, but the doctor was right.
There’s something wrong
with me.
Everything
raged inside. I couldn’t find that calm—that control. I was on the cusp of
wreaking my revenge—on the precipice of having everything I’d been working
toward coming true.
I
couldn’t afford to be broken now.
I can’t bear to be
ruined when she needs me.
The
roar of another Triumph coasted beside me.
I
looked to the side.
Mo
matched my speed, still managing to look badass even with
Grasshopper
riding bitch on the back.
I
felt empty, vulnerable at not having my usual weapons. But I’d refused to waste
more time by returning home. Instead, I’d commandeered Grasshopper’s knife and
his unregistered pistol and straddled his machine without asking.
What
was his was mine. He’d get over it.
He worked for me. Not the other way around.
I’d
been dead for too long believing Cleo was lost. I wouldn’t live in such hell
again.
Yes,
I had a shit-stirring headache. Yes, something was seriously fucking wrong with
me.
But
none of that mattered.
Cleo.
I have to get to Cleo.
Excerpted from SIN & SUFFER
by Pepper Winters.
Copyright © 2016 by Pepper Winters. Used
with permission of Grand Central Publishing. All rights
reserved.
About Pepper Winters
Pepper Winters is a New York Times and USA Todayinternational bestseller. She loves dark romance, star-crossed lovers, as well as the forbidden and taboo. She strives to write a story that makes readers crave what they shouldn't, and delivers complex plots and unforgettable characters that keep readers talking long after the last page is turned.
On a personal note she loves to travel, has an addiction to creme brulee, and is married to an incredible Canadian who puts up with her endless work hours and accompanies her on signings. She's also a firm believer that the impossible can become possible.
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