Thief by A. Zavarelli
Title: Thief
Series: Boston Underworld #5
Author: A. Zavarelli
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: February 23, 2018
Blurb
I’m a good girl.
I live by a code
that can’t be bent or broken. It is my duty to my family to stay innocent and
pure. To marry an Italian man. The stars are already aligned.
that can’t be bent or broken. It is my duty to my family to stay innocent and
pure. To marry an Italian man. The stars are already aligned.
But Nikolai Kozlov
re-writes my destiny with five simple words.
re-writes my destiny with five simple words.
You belong to me
now.
now.
He's Russian mafiya.
A thief. A skilled liar with no moral boundaries. He is everything I have
been taught to hate. A man who stands for nothing. A man who takes what he
wants without a second thought.
A thief. A skilled liar with no moral boundaries. He is everything I have
been taught to hate. A man who stands for nothing. A man who takes what he
wants without a second thought.
And what he wanted
was me.
was me.
He thinks he
controls my fate, but what he doesn’t know is, sometimes it’s the good girls
you have to watch out for.
controls my fate, but what he doesn’t know is, sometimes it’s the good girls
you have to watch out for.
I’m a dangerous man.
I live by a code.
The Vory code. It is my duty to my family to protect the brotherhood. To
destroy anyone who threatens what we stand for, including her.
The Vory code. It is my duty to my family to protect the brotherhood. To
destroy anyone who threatens what we stand for, including her.
She’s a dancer. A
beautiful little doll. My prisoner, and my new favorite puppet. This mafia
princess thinks she has me under her spell, but in the end, she is simply
collateral.
beautiful little doll. My prisoner, and my new favorite puppet. This mafia
princess thinks she has me under her spell, but in the end, she is simply
collateral.
It’s a shame to
destroy precious things.
destroy precious things.
But this is what bad
men do.
men do.
Excerpt
The first thing I always notice about a person is their
posture. I was raised to believe that good posture conveys good manners, as
well as respect for those around you. Nikolai carries his posture like a casual
‘f#ck you’ to everyone around him. There is no decorum in his leather jacket,
jeans, or his haphazardly laced motorcycle boots. Everything he wears is black,
but the small glimpse of skin beneath is a riot of colors. Tattoos cover every
inch of his exposed skin, including his throat.
posture. I was raised to believe that good posture conveys good manners, as
well as respect for those around you. Nikolai carries his posture like a casual
‘f#ck you’ to everyone around him. There is no decorum in his leather jacket,
jeans, or his haphazardly laced motorcycle boots. Everything he wears is black,
but the small glimpse of skin beneath is a riot of colors. Tattoos cover every
inch of his exposed skin, including his throat.
I’m not sure which is more offensive- the ink or the faux
hawk atop his head. This is not the way you attend a ballet, nor is he the type
of man I expect my father to keep company with.
hawk atop his head. This is not the way you attend a ballet, nor is he the type
of man I expect my father to keep company with.
“Tanaka.” He reaches for my hand and kisses it in a way that
few men would ever dare to do in my father’s presence. “You dance beautifully.”
few men would ever dare to do in my father’s presence. “You dance beautifully.”
The words are unmistakably accented. Russian. And I’m
struggling to maintain my composure while making sense of this situation. My
father has always been protective of me. His own men know better than to speak
to me or look at me, but for this stranger, somehow, it’s okay.
My manners, at least, are still intact, so I reply as I should. “You’ve seen me
dance?”
Nikolai flashes a boyish smile in contrast to the deepness
of his blue-green eyes. “I like to invest my time in the arts.”
struggling to maintain my composure while making sense of this situation. My
father has always been protective of me. His own men know better than to speak
to me or look at me, but for this stranger, somehow, it’s okay.
My manners, at least, are still intact, so I reply as I should. “You’ve seen me
dance?”
Nikolai flashes a boyish smile in contrast to the deepness
of his blue-green eyes. “I like to invest my time in the arts.”
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Author Bio
A. Zavarelli is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling
author.
She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her
characters through hell. Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and
sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls
are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and
twisted documentaries in her spare time.
She currently lives in the Northwest with her lumberjack and an entire brood of
fur babies.
author.
She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her
characters through hell. Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and
sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls
are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and
twisted documentaries in her spare time.
She currently lives in the Northwest with her lumberjack and an entire brood of
fur babies.
Author Links
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