A hit gone wrong, an impossible contract, revenge and the ultimate kicker… falling in love.
Mercy Reid is a runner.
She found the perfect place to hide, until it wasn’t.
Xavier “X” Blood always gets what he wants.
He had the perfect arrangement, until it wasn’t.
X is the mysterious tough guy from Royal Blood MC who gets shit done. Cross the Club and you get a visit from X. Only one person walks away at the end of it…and it isn’t you.
Mercy is hiding something. Something big. Looking to get lost, she runs from one hopeless situation right into the clutches of a monster.
When X and Mercy meet, something more electrifying than sparks fly. Something dangerous, passionate and forbidden.
When you deal in death, there’s only one way things can end…
Or is there?
If you like sparkly unicorns and hearts, Royal Blood IS NOT for you.
If you like dark twisty anti-heroes and heart stopping roller coasters, Royal Blood IS for you.
If you like teddy bears and kittens with whiskers, Royal Blood IS NOT for you.
If you like unapologetic alpha males that drip sex and talk dirty, Royal Blood IS for you.
You have been warned.
GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23448820-royal-blood
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1tPFOwd
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yhFWfx
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/15PUmYo
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Their worlds are consumed with darkness – a darkness created by others and forced upon them with no chance of ever getting away without paying in blood. Xavier “X” Blood and Mercy Reid’s only connection is in their need to get themselves out of the cruel realities they find themselves, which is easier said than done when one has been forced to live this life for a number of years, turned into a monster and forced to pay retribution as the Royal Blood’s hitman and the other had to ultimately give up her “perfect” existence and live on the run because her need for revenge has led her down a dangerous path that there’s no turning back from.
If there’s one thing that I’ve garnered from the books that I’ve read by Amity Cross is that she’s not afraid to think outside the box and go darker and nastier than most authors feel comfortable doing, which is one of the reasons her books lure her readers in and have them begging for more when they end in cliffhangers.
X, like other of Cross’ male leads, is more of an anti-hero than a hero. He commits heinous crimes for the Royal Blood motorcycle club, and it’s the darkness and carnage that feeds his black soul. He’s dark and twisted – completely unfeeling, which is how he’s had to be in order to carry out his orders. His humanity has been stripped from him, and that’s fine by him because no one has ever done anything to make him care or make him want to redeem himself in anyone’s eyes until Mercy.
Mercy is nothing like the woman she used to be; her heart is hardened and the only thing she needs is retribution. She doesn’t need X as a complication to her plan, but she can’t deny that she wants him. She sees behind the darkness, and she wants to make him feel again, but he has to be willing to let her first and that risk might be too great for both of them to bear.
But in a world full of filth and destruction, nothing is ever black and white; it’s more red than anything, and when information comes to light whose end only leads down a path of blood and demise, choices need to be made that will force both X and Mercy out of their comfort zones and to a decision that will change just about everything.
Amity Cross has created a dark and deadly world in her new series, Royal Blood. Lives will be lost and blood will spill, and no one is safe from that fate.
X and Mercy’s story is not for the faint of heart. Love and redemption are not a part of the equation, at least not right now. What happens to X and Mercy as everything plays out is a twisted ride where neither will remain unscathed. I can’t wait for their story to continue.
A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.
4 poison apples
X
Sliding out of the booth, I sauntered across the pub and ducked behind the counter. Nobody gave me a second glance. They didn’t know who I was, nobody did, but they knew I wasn’t anybody good. Peering through the window on the door, Mercy had her back turned, wiping at her damp T-shirt. I could step into her from behind and show her how hard I was…but that wasn’t the way this game was going to be played.
Pressing the door open with the flat of my palm, she looked up at me with blue eyes that gave away two things. Her hair wasn’t naturally black and by the way her pupils dilated, she was amped up. I was interested in only one of these observations and by the way my cock began to stir, there was no guessing which one was the money shot.
Mercy glared up at me, trying to cover her surprise at my appearance.
“What the fuck do you want?” she spat, dabbing at her tiny T-shirt with a rag. “You’re not allowed back here. Employees only.”
I stepped closer, not put off by her tone at all. I’d had worse.
“I don’t give a shit,” I said.
She eyed me, her gaze raking from head to cock and back up again.
I quirked an eyebrow, my lip curling in amusement.
“If you want something, just fucking say it,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”
“X.”
“X, what?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. Bitch didn’t miss a trick.
“It’s my name.”
“X as in the letter x?” She rolled her eyes.
“Got a problem?” I asked, inching closer.
“Yeah.” She nodded at me. “You’re in a staff only area. You might be all buddy buddy with Weiss, but I don’t know you from shit.”
“The mouth on you,” I breathed, totally turned on. I knew she had bite in her, but fucking Jesus H Christ. The more she bit, the harder I got. My gaze rested on her tits. Yeah, I was a tits man through and through and hers…
“You think I’m going to let you fuck me?” she scoffed, her bluntness doing nothing but turning me on even more.
My gaze snapped back to hers. “Who said I was going to fuck you?”
She pressed her hips forward, her groin rubbing into mine. “Your cock.”
My hand shot up and grasped the hair at the nape of her neck. With a sharp tug, her head fell to the side, leaving her neck exposed. If I was an asshole, I’d just take her now, but I wasn’t…fuck that. I was an asshole. Asshole was too safe a word to describe the kind of man I was.
“No,” I said, running my gaze down her pale neck and over her tits. “No, I’m not going to fuck you, Mercy.” She gave me a look that screamed ‘offended’ and it only made me grin wider. “Not here. When I fuck you, I’m not going to share your screams with anyone.”
Her entire body shivered and I knew I had her. Next time, she would come to me.
Letting her go, I let her hair run between my fingers and it took her a beat too long to step back and separate our bodies.
Giving her one last appreciative look, I turned on my heel and exited the ‘employee only’ room. I could wait. My cock strained against my jeans in protest, but this was one desire I was playing out and savoring.
I strode across the bar and pushed out the door, rearranging myself.
I could wait.
Amity Cross isn’t my real name. That’s no secret.
I didn’t want my Mum and my workplace to find out I wrote about doodles and tongue-in-cheek sexual innuendo.
I live in a leafy suburb of Melbourne writing about screwed up relationships and kick ass female leads that don’t take s**t lying down.
Insert more pretentious c**p here.
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