Russian Pride on Sale #MFRWhooks

Russian Love Series Book 4 on sale this weekend only. 
August Book Of The Month 
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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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Review: Kat ( 5 stars)  Action mob romance

"A lot of action and romance. Enjoyed how the beginning story of Inessa drew me. And Giovanni was a loyal loving protective mobster!" 

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Excerpt 

​Had she been in a car wreck? 

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.