Also by this author:
Pennie$ is Book One in the Dollar Series releasing July 2016!
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Amazon will be available at a later date.
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“At 18 I had pennies, but money didn’t make me bold. At 19 I had dollars, but it didn’t dull the pain of being sold. At 20 I had hundreds, but then I met him and was found. At 21 I had thousands, but all I wanted was to be bound.”
“At 23 I had dollars, but life changed and made me rich. At 25 I had hundreds, but it wasn’t enough to stop my killing itch. At 27 I had thousands, but my reputation didn’t set me free. At 29 I had millions, but I met her and could finally see.”
Tasmin was killed on her 18th birthday. She had everything planned out. A psychology degree, a mother who pushed her to greatness, and a future anyone would die for. But then her murderer saved her life, only to sell her into a totally different existence.
Elder went from penniless to stinking rich with one twist of fate. His lifetime of crime and shadows of thievery are behind him but no matter the power he now wields, it’s not enough. He has an agenda to fulfil and he won’t stop until it’s complete.
But then they meet.
A beaten slave and a richly dressed thief. Money is what guided their separate fates. Money is what brought them together. And money is ultimately what destroys them.
She was poor.
He was rich.
Together…they were bankrupt.
“Do you always oppose the man in your bed or just me?” My hand lashed up, looping around her throat. “You just made me break the no touching rule so soon. Don’t make me break the other rules keeping me in line tonight.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, pooling with panicked uncertainty.
“Ah, that’s intrigued you.” Loosening my fingers, I didn’t threaten to throttle her, merely held softly, trapping her mind in her body rather than flying free. “I have many laws that run my life.” I bared my teeth. “Want to know a few?”
I waited for her to nod, to blink—to do something that could be a signal for yes.
But she was too good.
Or too terrified.
She’d gone iceberg white, her eyes as complex as snowflakes.
“You don’t like your neck being touched?” I removed more of my weight but didn’t withdraw my fingers. “Does he strangle you…is that why you’re looking at me as if I’ve grown horns?”
She didn’t respond in any way, but her pulse gushed like a riptide beneath my thumb. “Don’t focus on where I’m holding you. Focus on why I’m holding you.” My thumb caressed the side of her neck, tangling with the escaped hair I’d secured. “Focus on my questions.”