Never
Loved
Dark Obsession # 1
Dark Obsession # 1
By: Charlotte Stein
Releasing July 21st, 2015
Loveswept
Blurb
Perfect for fans of Abbi Glines, the
first novel in the Dark Obsession series tells the story of a beautiful
wallflower who falls for a chiseled street fighter—and learns just how
dangerous love can be.
Beatrix Becker spent most of her
life under the thumb of her controlling, abusive father. And now that she’s
free and attending her dream college, she has no idea how to act like the
normal crowd: partying, going on dates, even having a conversation. Then she
meets Serge Sorensen. Big and surly with a whole host of riotous tattoos, Serge
is supposed to scare the hell out of her. But beneath his harsh exterior,
Beatrix discovers a kindred spirit who knows what it’s like to be a misfit.
Most exhilarating—and terrifying—is what he does for a living: illegal street
fighting.
There’s nothing like the rush Serge
gets from the intense athleticism and brutal glory of combat—though his
chemistry with Beatrix comes close. Slowly at first, he introduces her to his
world, where he lives by instinct, passion, and desire. He even helps her out
with her equally traumatized brother. But when Serge gets in too deep with the
wrong people, he ends up paying in blood. And suddenly, just as Beatrix has
been drawn into Serge’s perfectly sculpted arms, she’s thrown once and for all
into the fight of his life.
Excerpt
I know they are the ones I have to speak to. I recognize the guy
with the tattoo of a hammer on his biceps, and some of the others look familiar
from that bar on Maple Street. I’m pretty sure that’s the guy who pointed Tommy
out to me, yet still I hesitate. Of course I hesitate.
They look like such an insane rabble. As I watch through the
windscreen of my car, three of them start fighting. One of them pushes another
one; the third guy grabs the first by his dirty tank top. Harsh words are
exchanged, so fierce and forceful I can almost make out the spittle flying.
Then suddenly there’s a knife. I see its edge gleam in the bright
sunlight, about a second before something red appears across the chest of the
guy who started it. Blood, I think dizzily. That’s blood. He’s bleeding all
over his own T-shirt, and though it isn’t anywhere close to a mortal wound, it
doesn’t encourage me to get out of the car.
Nor does the way the fight ends. The one with the knife goes to
slash at the other guy again, and I’m just about to cover my eyes with my hand
when this enormous man comes out of nowhere. He lashes out with a hand like a
shovel, and somehow the knife is on the ground. The brawling men are
scattering, as though they were never there at all.
And I understand why.
The big one is pretty terrifying. And obviously
everyone else thinks so, too, because they part like butter under a knife before
him. He goes back to his bike without anyone so much as brushing his arms, and
once there he sits down in a way that gets my attention in a fucking chokehold.
I mean, he had it before, but watching the machine balk beneath his weight is
something else. It actually seems to sag. I can almost hear its sound of
protest.
God knows how he rides the thing. God knows about anything going on
here. I try to make a list in my head of all the shenanigans that might be
ensuing, but all I can come up with is drug ring. And I’ve got to be honest—I
don’t think drug ring is a real
thing. It sounds like something my father would have ranted about whenever I
asked if I could go anywhere, or do anything, or be out past five in the
afternoon.
The
drug ring will get you, I think,
which would probably be funny if I couldn’t feel his ghost pressing down on my
shoulders at the same time. Or if I understood any of this on any level
whatsoever. I mean, even if they’re not dealing meth to kids, or about to
snatch me and put me in a van, a ton of this stuff is disturbing.
For a start:
Why are they all congregating outside an abandoned convenience
store? It’s not even a nice one, with those signs people like to collect and
stick up on their walls, or some remnant of civilization still hanging around.
It’s an ugly rotten tooth of a place, striped all over with rust streaks and
half sagging in the middle.
Yet here they are, milling around in this big odd jumble. Some of
them have bikes; some of them have battered cars. Some are dressed in leather
and denim; others wander around in mismatched tracksuits. In a couple of cases
I spy business-wear, as though the wearers came straight here from an early-morning
meeting. This is secretly the abandoned-convenience-store branch of GE, and in
a second they’re all going to start funneling funds through accounts in the
Caymans.
Or maybe I just hope that’s the case, because now I have to get out
of the car.
I have to if I want to find my brother, yet somehow I’m still not
doing it. Instead I take out my phone and call the only person who might be
able to help me, even if I suspect she won’t be able to help me at all. When I
left our dorm room, she was trying to decide if scarves are in or out now,
which seems pretty far from this.
I’m not even sure if I should say. But I do anyway.
“Do you know anything about gangs that hang around outside
convenience stores?” I ask, bracing myself for all kinds of answers. One time I
tried to tell her about my brother and his problems, and she suggested I change
my name so I won’t be bothered anymore.
Of course, I couldn’t explain to her why that was ridiculous.
Whenever I try, I start doing something silly, like crying uncontrollably. I
get this urge to start spilling all my secrets, and most of them barely make
any sense. Sometimes I look back on them, and it almost seems as if they
happened to another person—one who never had to hide a magazine with a man’s
naked chest on it under her mattress, or push every clock in the house back by
two minutes so Tommy would be home on time, or fear enclosed spaces in case the
next time we never get let out at all.
Those things were just a dream.
This is the reality, where I am a cool and very normal—if slightly
older than most freshman—college girl.
Or at least, I will be one soon. All I have to do is get through
this latest disaster, and onward to the other side. On the other side is the
possibility of being a proper person, a person who is successful at doing the
things that everyone else does. I could be more interested in parties and
hairstyles and dating, to the point where Sam might actually approve and maybe
even remember me.
At the moment, that isn’t happening.
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/03/never-loved-dark-obsession-1-by.html
Goodreads
Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23433442-never-loved?ac=1
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/139124-dark-obsession
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/139124-dark-obsession
Author Info
Charlotte Stein has
written over thirty short stories, novellas and novels, including entries in
The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance and Best New Erotica 10. Her latest work, Run
To You, was recently a DABWAHA finalist. When not writing deeply emotional and
intensely sexy books, she can be found eating jelly turtles, watching terrible
sitcoms and occasionally lusting after hunks. For more on Charlotte,
visit: www.charlottestein.net
Website: http://charlottestein.net/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Charlotte_Stein
Thank you for hosting NEVER LOVED!
ReplyDelete