Synopsis
Can be read as a STANDALONE! Theresa Drazen can have plenty
of guys, but the one she can't keep away from....the one she's just about
addicted to, is more than forbidden. With felony-black eyes and a mouth built
for lies, loving him is one step away from illegal.
But her body keeps overriding her brain. Maybe it's time to
stop playing by the rules.
-------
Antonio is obsessed. Theresa's the last woman he should
touch. She's going to get him killed. She's dangerous. Poison. The wrong woman.
Except...she's perfect.
And they both figure...one more time. Just one more time.
One more time and they won't get caught.
One more time and they won't get killed.
One.
More.
Time.......
Complete Corruption by CD Reiss
is NOW LIVE!
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Teasers
Excerpt
complete corruption.
An excerpt
CD Reiss
Copyright © 2014
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the
United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the
material or artwork herein is prohibited.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real
places, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental
.
Cover Art designed by the author
“Listen!” I yanked back at his hand at the bottom of the
stairs, but he yanked me and swung me through a doorway.
The choir dressing room was ancient with wooden lockers
built in the Depression. So, when he pushed me against them, there wasn’t a
clatter of sheet metal, but a thunk as they rattled.
Antonio grabbed me by the wrists, locking them together in
two fingers and holding them over my head.
“You think I’m worried about him?” He put his finger to my
face. “I spend not one minute of my life thinking about that man with you. He’s
not even a man. He’s not worthy of you. He’s one of a thousand rats on the
bottom of a sinking ship.”
“Then what’s the problem?” My question came out in a gasp
because my body gravitated toward him, arching to press against him, just as he
arched in the opposite curve to keep his face close to mine.
“Why did you see him?” I could have kissed him, but I moved
my head against the locker door, turning my face toward the arched lead-glass
window. I wanted him, not in spite of his anger but because of it.
“He went to Katrina. His team grilled her, and I don’t like
it.”
“What did they grill her about?”
He knew damn well, but he wasn’t going to assume. I noticed
that about him. He never assumed anything or jumped to a conclusion.
“You,” I whispered.
“Me.”
“You.”
“And you told him what?” he said.
“To stop. To leave you alone. That if he didn’t, I had
enough on him to make his life a living hell.”
“Do you think you maybe should talk to me first, before you
do crazy shit?”
“No.” I twisted and pulled my hands down. He let them go but
increased his weight on me, pushing me against the lockers. “You barely let me
out of an apartment that’s not even mine. I highly doubt you’d let me see
Daniel.”
“Because it’s stupid and dangerous.”
“It’s what I have to give. And it’s useful to you. And go to
hell if you don’t like it. I will never, ever sit still while he’s after you.”
“I’m already going to hell. Grazie.”
I pushed him away, and he grabbed my jaw, holding me still
while he put his nose next to mine and spoke into my mouth. “You’re a loaded
gun. Do you see that? You’re from a different world, but you smell like home to
me. I haven’t been to Napoli in ten years, but whenever you’re near me, I smell
olive flowers. My heart gets sick with thirst, but the water is poison.”
“Antonio—”
“I’m drowning, Contessa.”
“What are you talking about?”
His face got tight, holding back a flood of emotion. His
fingers pressed harder on my face until I took hold of his wrist, pulling it
down. He let go.
“Talk to me,” I said. “Just tell me.”
He looked confused for a second. Overwhelmed. Then, as if
the dam had burst, he wrapped his arms around me and put his mouth to mine. It
happened so quickly that I didn’t kiss him back at first. I couldn’t breathe;
he held me so tight, but I got my arms around him and my mouth open, pulling
him close, pushing as much of myself as I could into whatever part of him was
within my reach. Thighs, hips, hands, shoulders, lips bashing lips, tongues
forceful on tongues. It wasn’t even a kiss, or at least, not like one I’d ever
had before. It was a slap, a punch, the use of force, a coercion of two worlds
into uncomfortable cohesion.
The kiss never got soft and only ended when he jerked
himself away.
“Talk to me,” I said in a breath.
“The thing I want most is the only thing between me and
getting it. You are everything that will destroy me. I should go back to who I
was. But you made me dream I could be free, when I’d forgotten I was in
prison.”
“Is this about you being honest? Is it about me seeing
Daniel? Antonio. If I hurt you, just tell me how. Let me make it right. Let me
help you get out.”
He caressed my face with both palms with a tenderness that
shouldn’t have been able to contain such intensity.
“Sweet olive blossoms,” he said. “That was God’s message to
me.” He stepped away, and the space between us became a sigh. He held his hand.
“The only way out is through.”
About the Author
CD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has
to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is
working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick
up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to
get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know,
that went nowhere, but it did embed TV story structure in her head well enough
for her to take a big risk on a TV series structured erotic series called Songs
of Submission. It’s about a kinky billionaire hung up on his ex-wife, an
ingenue singer with a wisecracking mouth; art, music and sin in the city of Los
Angeles.
Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and
“hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a
bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think
she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to give the toilets a once-over
every couple of weeks or chop a cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
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