Title: Whiskey Renegade
Series: The Kings of Texas
Author: HJ Bellus
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 23, 2018
Publisher: Crave Publishing
We used to be kings on top of the world, but it all went to hell...
My money and power are worthless.
All I want is blood bathing my knuckles, their soulless bodies dead at my feet.
I’ve never felt the need to take someone’s life until now.
They will pay.
I will sacrifice everything to protect my family.
To save the beauty that’s been haunting my dreams.
I don’t even know her, but the fear dancing in her eyes will be my worst nightmare.
It’s a game of death, and I’m all in.
3☆☆☆
| Whiskey Renegade was an okay read for me. I liked it, but didn't at the same time if that makes sense. The writing was good, I just couldn't connect with the characters. I did like that we see past characters. | ||
There’s dirt embedded under my nails. My skin is coated in sweat and my clothes are filthy. I’ve slept very little while cracking the code of the southern cartel and Jordan’s family. I’ve found the people he’s crossed and am building a master plan to bring down all of his loved ones.
Emerald eyes and swirling raven hair haunt my sleep when it comes. Rose. Her slender arm sliding through my grasp and me not being able to save her will always and forever be my demon. Hell, I don’t know her from a stranger on the street. All I do know is she’s being held against her will.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that I gave J.J. hell for years for being a saver, and here I sit in a cockroach-infested hotel in Mexico, risking my life for a woman I don’t even know. It’s so much more than that…I hunger to save them all, rid the world of evil, and I won’t stop until it’s done. Whether my heart is beating or dead, I will get the job done.
The woman between my legs bobs her head up and down my hard dick. I grasp the back of her head, guiding her up and down, waiting for my enemies to bust in. It’s an intoxicating sensation: the anticipation, the exhilaration of passion, and the immediate danger looming all around me.
The door to the stale hotel room swings open, clanging off the wall and leaving a hole in the cheap plaster where the doorknob careened into it. Five gun barrels face me, coupled with words firing in every direction in Spanish. I take a sip of my whiskey neat with my free hand and smile back at the slimy bastards.
“Game on, fuckers.”
HJ Bellus is a small-town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shot gunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.
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