Russian Love Series Book 4 on sale this weekend only.
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Rescued from domestic abuse, Bratva princess Inessa recuperates from the latest beating in the home of Giovanni Maglione, the mafia captain of Cleveland. Learning that her husband double-crossed the Chinese triad, and they want their pound of flesh--and they're happy to take it out of Inessa--her parents ask Giovanni to marry their newly widowed daughter. The Chinese triad will be looking for a Russian mobster's wife, not the wife of an Italian mobster. Inessa agrees to this marriage of convenience which, of course, isn't so convenient. The ruse fails, which forces Giovanni into a violent and bloody mob war, because he protects what's his... and Inessa is most definitely his.
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"A lot of action and romance. Enjoyed how the beginning story of Inessa drew me. And Giovanni was a loyal loving protective mobster!"
Excerpt
She didn’t text and drive, did she? Her heart sank at the thought that she might have been so foolish as to text and drive. Inessa wondered if her foolishness had gotten someone else hurt or even killed.
The heart monitor registered her distress and beeped loudly. No one came. In the manner of alarm clocks, the beeping increased in volume without someone to turn it off. Soon the sound shrieked through her brain and Inessa could not help but wail in counterpoint as pain pierced her skull like an ice pick.
The door flung open and a man rushed inside. He glanced at her, then at the loudly beeping machine. He punched a button on the machine and the beeping stopped. Inessa realized a moment later that the only shrieking now was hers.
The noise died away on a whine accompanied by tears that trickled hot, wet trails down her face.
“Shh,” the man soothed. His beautiful mouth spread in a smile, but his eyes expressed nothing but concern.
“Voda,” she croaked.
“Water?” he asked, and poured some into a small plastic cup. He found a straw, pulled it free of its paper wrapping, and placed it into the cup. Holding it at an odd angle, he put the tip of the straw to her lips. She opened her mouth just enough to close her lips around the straw. She took a sip. Blessed, glorious, tepid water filled her mouth. She swallowed and took another sip.
“Spasibo.”
“Ah,” he said as he pulled the cup away from her. “I know that means thank you. In my family, we say, ‘grazie.’”
“Kto ty?”
The beautiful man looked puzzled. Either guessing the meaning of her question or simply falling back onto polite behavior, he introduced himself. Taking her fingers into his warm, light clasp, he said, “I am Giovanni Maglione.”
The name didn’t ring any bells.
“Spasibo.” For the second time in as many days, she asked, “Kto ya?”
Catching on, Giovanni gave her fingers a light squeeze and answered, “You are Inessa Andrupov.”
No, that didn’t sound quite right. There was a tiny hesitation between Inessa and Andrupov. One of those wasn’t her name.
“Nyet.”
Giovanni gave her a half-smile. “You’re sharp. But then, being Olivia and Maksim’s daughter, you would be. Your maiden name is Andrupov.”
“Moye imya. Kak menya zovut?” she asked, her voice hoarse and barely audible.
“Mi dispiace, non so cosa stai dicendo,” he replied in a soft tone.
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Those familiar with my assortment of four-legged beasties know of the lovely Lady Anastasia, the geriatric horse who came into my life exactly when I needed her. She was 19 years old. I expected to have five or six good years with her, but she gave me so much more. We joked that she'd outlive us.
She didn't.
There's a huge, Stasia-shaped hole in my heart.
We buried her on the highest point of our property. "Stasia stays home," I said to my husband when we faced the inevitable on Saturday morning. All but one of our other horses that passed were hauled away, because the water table here is high. With tears in his eyes, my husband agreed and added, "Stasia gets a tree." When the dirt settles, we'll plant a magnolia over her, something pretty, something with flowers, something nontoxic that will grow large enough to give shade.
For the first time in over two decades, our farm has no horse. It's disconcerting, but that emptiness will be put to good use. My husband's been working on installing new fences and will rebuild the loafing shed. We'll be converting a stall to serve as a chicken coop. And I've decided to bring Diva and Teddy home at the end of September.
Condolences poured in through social media, mainly from equestrian groups who know the pain of having gone through this before. Many mentioned, as have I in the past, the journey over the Rainbow Bridge. The concept of the Rainbow Bridge is assumed to have arisen from Norse mythology, but its first mention in concert with deceased animals comes from a poem written in prose style by Paul C. Dahm. The poem's a bit clumsy. Steve and Diane Bodofsky rewrote it in variable meter and rhyme. Their version (below), published in 1998, says it well. I try to take comfort in the concept.
By Steve and Diane Bodofsky
By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,
is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.
Where the friends of man and woman do run,
when their time on earth is over and done.
For here, between this world and the next,
is a place where beloved creatures find rest.
On this golden land, they wait and they play,
til The Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.
No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,
for here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.
Their limbs are restored, their health renewed.
Their bodies have healed with strength imbued.
They trot through the grass without even a care,
til one day they whinny and sniff at the air.
All ears prick forward, eyes sharp and alert.
Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the herd.
For just at that second, there's no room for remorse.
As they see each other...one person...one horse.
So they run to each other, these friends from long past
The time of their parting is over at last.
The sadness they felt while they were apart
has turned to joy once more in each heart.
They nuzzle with a love that will last forever.
And then, side-by-side, they cross over...together.
Buy The Series: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B078MNBJWM
Russian Lullaby
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A case of mistaken identity lands graduate student Giancarla Bonetti in a heap of trouble, only to be rescued by Bratva interrogator Vitaly Synvolka. Sensing that she's his final opportunity to save what's left of his humanity after a lifetime of brutality, he offers the innocent young woman three options: go back to her life and be killed by the thugs who kidnapped her; go far, far away and start a new life at a new school and hope the thugs don't find her; or, marry him, accept his protection, and finish her degree.
Option #3 isn't as easy as it sounds. |
Russian Gold
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Now that she and her best friends are out of danger, Cecily Carrigan is restless. Pyotr’s boss bought a restaurant and installed her as head chef. She lives rent-free with a with a sexy beast of a Russian mobster who treats her like a queen, but hasn’t offered marriage. She detests Cleveland, cold weather, and the Bratva. Conflicted and confused, what's a girl to do when she suffers a crisis of conscience?
She removes herself from temptation and leaves. Moving to San Antonio where the weather's warm and the restaurant scene fiercely competitive, Cecily works to find herself and rebuild her self-respect... and discovers that she left the secret to happiness behind in the form of a big Russian with a heart of gold. |
Russian Dawn
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After two years, Iosif Drakoniv's patience finally pays off. He and Latasha marry and head off to Costa Rica for a tropical honeymoon. They anticipate nothing more than a carefree time of sun, sand, and sex. Latasha, however, catches the notice of the local drug cartel's kingpin, who orders her abduction. Helpless to stop the kidnapping, Iosif calls Maksim for assistance. Maksim sends Bogdan and Gennady to help and puts them in touch with a local contact who can provide the weapons they'll need to wage war.
They rescue Latasha. Maksim calls upon Gia's grandfather, a mafia kingpin himself, for a favor to get Iosif, Latasha, Bogdan, Gennady, and two more people into the USA without tipping off Border Patrol. Shortly after they return to Cleveland, Giuseppe Maglione calls in that favor for Latasha to pay. If she declines, then she condemns the Cleveland Bratva to bankruptcy and ill will between the two criminal organizations. If she accepts the opportunity, then she'll be at the mafia's beck and call forever. It's a devil's bargain and Latasha must make a choice. |
Russian Pride
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Rescued from domestic abuse, Bratva princess Inessa recuperates from the latest beating in the home of Giovanni Maglione, the mafia captain of Cleveland. Learning that her husband double-crossed the Chinese triad, and they want their pound of flesh--and they're happy to take it out of Inessa--her parents ask Giovanni to marry their newly widowed daughter. The Chinese triad will be looking for a Russian mobster's wife, not the wife of an Italian mobster. Inessa agrees to this marriage of convenience which, of course, isn't so convenient. The ruse fails, which forces Giovanni into a violent and bloody mob war, because he protects what's his... and Inessa is most definitely his.
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AuthorHard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author. Follow
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