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Empire by Rachel Van Dyken ~ Blog Tour
I have lost everything.
My purpose
My love
My soul
Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle — the promise I made her brings me back.
So I breathe.
I live.
I hate.
And I allow the anger to oil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don’t want to be fixed.
But the Empire is crumbling and it’s my job to fix it.
My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago.
A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family.
The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I’d never do again.
An arranged marriage.
Only this time.
I won’t fall.
Or so help me God, I will kill her myself.
My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?
You have no idea.
I am the mafia.
I am the darkness.
Blood in. No out.
Amazon US | Amazon UK |Amazon AU | Amazon CA
iBooks | B & N | Smashwords | Kobo
EXCERPT
“Taxi.” I held up my hand. “It’s too cold to walk.”
“Is it?”
“For those of us who have hearts,” I said under my breath.
He paused and then burst out laughing. “Holy shit, was that a dig at me?”
I shrugged as the taxi pulled up.
“Damn, and you’re not even apologizing.”
“It was more of a passing comment under my breath…” I got into the taxi and slid across the cold, worn vinyl seat. “But true.”
Sergio slammed the door after him. “And here I thought I was making a good impression.”
“You offered to kill me if I kissed you.”
The taxi driver frowned into the rearview mirror.
“She’s kidding,” Sergio reassured him.
I refused to let him get off that easy. “You also look at me like you want to throw up.”
Mr. Taxi Driver’s nostrils flared.
“Uh.” Sergio laughed uncomfortably. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“The wife.”
Taxi Driver’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. Yeah, this was probably the best entertainment he’d had all day.
“I don’t talk about it,” Sergio said in a drop-the-subject voice.
“Maybe you should.”
“I have enough money to afford a therapist, thank you,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness,” I fired back.
Sergio released a string of pithy curses. “Did someone spike your milk this morning during show and tell?”
“Lactose intolerant.”
“Sorry. Your Kool-Aid.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s like you’re trying to piss me off.”
Bingo. I smiled. “Funny, that’s what Dante says to me all the time. Just think of all the things you get to look forward to. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”
The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.
He froze.
The taxi driver stared little laser-like holes into the rearview mirror.
And Sergio leaned toward me.
I swallowed as tension swirled around us.
He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”
“You wouldn’t do it.”
He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like something had caught his eye.
I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.
“It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”
“Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”
“Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”
To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.
My body told me to run.
The guy had pulled a gun.
On me.
I didn’t even watch violent movies, I’d just panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head!
And I was about to go to the theater with a guy who probably showered in blood on a daily basis and by the looks of it — got off on it.
Shivering, I forced myself to take a deep breath and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body.
That was the thing about men like Sergio, or maybe just loyalty in general. He’d promised he would keep me safe, but I wondered if that promise was only extended until I was more trouble than I was worth.
I was safe, not because of what I was to him.
But because of who my dad had been to him.
I was nothing.
And yet, a part of me still yearned to be… something.
Anything really.
Pathetic.
“Change your mind?” Sergio’s smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. He was the type of man you felt even when he wasn’t speaking. His presence was impossible to ignore, kind of like his ridiculous good looks.
Weren’t mafia guys supposed to be old?
Fat?
Chain smokers who bought Cuban cigars and sat behind large desks while counting money and ordering hits on people who pissed them off?
“No.” I finally found my voice. “I was just thinking….”
“About?” His hand touched my back, ushering me forward, but not pushing, almost as if he was giving me the option of still saying no.
I increased my pace so that I couldn’t feel the warmth of his fingertips. “Popcorn.” I turned and winked, hoping it would hide the fact that my body was shaking.
Maybe I was the crazy one.
Because he was armed.
The man was armed.
And he had no qualms about pointing his weapon at me whenever I got too close.
Huh, we’d have a happy marriage.
I guess we’d never argue, since I liked living.
And, you know, breathing.
It would suck not to make my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t fold the towels just right.
And again, I froze.
Was he that neurotic? Or was it just the closeness?
“On a scale of one to ten…” I was proud of the way I kept the shaking out of my voice. Why was I so scared? Oh right, because he’d pointed a gun, no, shoved a freaking gun into my stomach and done it with a smile on his face. “How OCD are you?”
An easy laugh escaped him as he glanced around the movie theater lobby and then back at me. “What makes you think I’m OCD?”
“Things.” I gulped then forced a smile that I didn’t feel. How was I supposed to go through an entire movie knowing he was one uncomfortable conversation away from losing it? “So?”
“What can I get you?” A teen boy looked at Sergio then smiled wider when his eyes fell to me.
Immediately, Sergio wrapped a protective arm around me, basically forcing my body to curve into his warmth. “My wife and I will have two buckets of popcorn, two packs of Sour Patch Kids, and a bottled water.”
I didn’t correct him about the water.
“Wait.” Sergio held up his hand. “Sorry, Dr. Pepper mixed with Coke.”
The teen scrunched up his face then rung us up. His eyes fell to me again then back at the register, like he was trying not to look but couldn’t help it, which was comical, since I didn’t really think I was anything to look at.
When he handed Sergio back his change I could have sworn I heard a growl from my “husband.”
As it was, he jerked the candy so hard out of the kid’s hands that I was surprised he didn’t do a front flip over the counter.
“He’s a boy,” I whispered under my breath. “No need to shoot him too.”
Sergio glanced down at me, muttered a curse. “He was staring.”
“He looked about one science project away from solving world hunger via his mom’s basement… hardly the type of guy that I’d date.”
“Date?” Sergio said it so loudly the people in front of us waiting to show the attendant their tickets jumped and then turned around. “What the hell do you mean date?”
Crap. I’d messed up again.
My palms went sweaty while my face felt numb with fear. Regardless of how pretty he was to look at — I was finally fully aware of how dangerous he was to me.
To everyone around me.
Sweat trickled down my lower back as I gulped down more soda and shrugged. “I just mean, he’s not my type.”
“No shit he isn’t, because you don’t get a type anymore.”
“Right.” I licked my lower lip, pretending not to be scared, pretending to be the brave person I wasn’t was wearing on me.
By the time we made it into the theater I was dizzy.
It was too much all at once.
“So…” Sergio’s voice was in my ear. I jumped a foot. He frowned as if he couldn’t figure out why I’d be so jumpy. “Dante sits behind you, right?”
“Right.” I exhaled in relief. I forgot. It wasn’t a date. It was a challenge. He’d called me his sister, so therefore he was my brother, right? Hah. I relaxed a bit as I pointed to a seat a few rows back and quickly stole the goodies out of his hands then made my way to my own seat before he could object.
The credits started rolling.
And I found myself ducking in the chair.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
As if I was being watched — because I was.
Ten minutes into the movie, I was so stressed out, I almost burst into tears. My back was to him.
Wasn’t that a big no-no? My back was to the dude with the gun.
Even though he was supposed to protect me with the gun, all bets were off now.
Sweat pooled in the palms of my hands.
The music rose as one of the actresses ran down the stairs screaming.
I couldn’t take it.
And then, a body sat down next to me.
Sergio gave me a suspicious look then put a seat between us.
I exhaled.
But it wasn’t relief.
At least I knew where he was.
And where the gun was, he was right handed, so there was that.
I finally allowed myself to relax enough to watch the movie when I saw Sergio’s right hand duck into his jacket.
I gripped the plastic arm rests, my fingers digging into the cheap sticky plastic material as he slowly pulled something out.
He turned.
And I flinched so hard that there was no mistaking what I thought he was doing.
Even though he had grabbed a black cell phone.
The damage was done.
My entire body shook as a big fat tear escaped, I tried to wipe it away but I wasn’t fast enough.
“S-sorry.” I shoved past him and ran.
But my body was too scared.
Too tired
To make it very far.
Review
Jill’s Review
Well, I don’t know how she does it… but Rachel Van Dyken seems to take each book in the Eagle Elite Series to the next level. I remember thinking, there is no way she will be able to compare with Elude, how will the rest of Sergio’s story hold up? But she killed it. Empire is everything you could want and more!
So let’s start with how this is Book #7 in the Eagle Elite Series. Those of you that have been reading this series, I KNOW you are all – come on, bring it on! We want more! Those of you who are new to this magnificent mafia series don’t fret! You do NOT need to read the whole series to enjoy this book. While Empire can absolutely be read as a complete standalone, I would highly recomend reading Elude first. This will give you Sergio’s whole story and make you fall completely for him. *Sigh*
Sergio is lost, broken, angry – a shell of the man he once was. And now he is being told in order to help save the empire, he will be heading into another arranged marriage. Sergio will do anything for the Family, even marry again. But love her? Cherish her? Fall for her? Not a chance! He’ll murder her first!
Val is young, naive, sweet, sheltered but has a hidden spunk that starts shining through in the book. She grew up blind to who her family really was until Sergio showed up in her life. Now she has a lot to digest and an upcoming wedding to a man she doesn’t know to top it off.
This book had it all. Drama, action, family, loyalty, secrets, friendship, healing, loss and yes – romance and love. You will be kept at the edge of your seat as you try and piece everything together. Your emotions will be all over the place – laughing (Snow Angels), Angry (Sergio…), heartbroken (letters), snickering (Oklahoma!) and so much more. It is an absolutely beautiful tale of healing. A sort of second chance romance that will have you rooting for Val (yes, even those who are thinking no before picking this up.) They didn’t have it easy.. but watching them struggle and come into their own accounted for so much of the beauty.
I more than recommend (is that possible) this book, this series. This is an absolute MUST READ! You do not need to be a fan of mafia romances to fall in love here. If you like a story that will make you feel then pick this one up. If I could give it twirls instead of stars this would be a TWO TWIRL book! (Once you read, you’ll get that!)
Get the beginning of Sergio’s story in Elude
Twenty-Four hours before were were to be married–I offered to shoot her.
Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.
Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.
One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.
But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.
I’d only use my gun to protect her.
I’d give my life for hers.
I’d cry.
And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl–a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.
I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.
Or the beginning of something beautiful.
The beginning of her.
The end of us.
Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Kobo
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.
FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER
Empire by Rachel Van Dyken ~ Release Day Blitz
I have lost everything.
My purpose
My love
My soul
Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle — the promise I made her brings me back.
So I breathe.
I live.
I hate.
And I allow the anger to oil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don’t want to be fixed.
But the Empire is crumbling and it’s my job to fix it.
My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago.
A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family.
The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I’d never do again.
An arranged marriage.
Only this time.
I won’t fall.
Or so help me God, I will kill her myself.
My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?
You have no idea.
I am the mafia.
I am the darkness.
Blood in. No out.
Amazon US | Amazon UK |Amazon AU | Amazon CA
iBooks | B & N | Smashwords | Kobo
EXCERPT
Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”
The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.
He froze.
The taxi driver stared little laser like holes into the rearview mirror.
And Sergio leaned toward me.
I swallowed as tension swirled around us.
He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”
“You wouldn’t do it.”
He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like he had spotted something.
I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.
“It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”
“Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”
“Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”
To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.
My body told me to run.
The guy had pulled a gun.
On me.
I didn’t even watch violent movies.
Get the beginning of Sergio’s story in Elude
Twenty-Four hours before were were to be married–I offered to shoot her.
Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.
Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.
One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.
But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.
I’d only use my gun to protect her.
I’d give my life for hers.
I’d cry.
And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl–a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.
I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.
Or the beginning of something beautiful.
The beginning of her.
The end of us.
Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Kobo
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.
FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE / NEWSLETTER
Empire by Rachel Van Dyken ~ Cover Reveal
The seventh book in the internationally best selling mafia series as it follows Sergio Abandonato, cousin to one of the most powerful families in the mafia, and an ex FBI agent hell bent on redeeming his name and forgetting the fact that he used to share it with someone long gone. This is the rest of Sergio’s story.
I have lost everything.
My purpose
My love
My soul
Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle — the promise I made her brings me back.
So I breathe.
I live.
I hate.
And I allow the anger to boil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don’t want to be fixed.
But the Empire is crumbling and it’s my job to fix it.
My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago.
A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family.
The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I’d never do again.
An arranged marriage.
Only this time,
I won’t fall.
Or so help me God, I will kill her myself.
My name is Sergio Abandonato, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?
You have no idea.
I am the mafia.
I am the darkness.
Blood in. No out.
PRE-ORDER
Amazon US | Amazon UK |Amazon AU | Amazon CA
iBooks | B & N | Smashwords | Kobo
EXCERPT
Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”
The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.
He froze.
The taxi driver stared little laser like holes into the rearview mirror.
And Sergio leaned toward me.
I swallowed as tension swirled around us.
He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”
“You wouldn’t do it.”
He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like he had spotted something.
I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.
“It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”
“Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”
“Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”
To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.
My body told me to run.
The guy had pulled a gun.
On me.
I didn’t even watch violent movies.
Every book in this series is a stand alone except Elude and Empire….
Read and find out why people are obsessed with this made man and the woman who changed him.
Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married–I offered to shoot her.
Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.
Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.
One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.
But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.
I’d only use my gun to protect her.
I’d give my life for hers.
I’d cry.
And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl—a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.
I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined.
It would be my redemption.
Or the beginning of something beautiful.
The beginning of her.
The end of us.
Amazon | iBooks | Nook
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.
NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
Elite by Rachel Van Dyken ~ SALE
ELITE is on sale for $.99.
This is EPIC!!
It is the first time is has been on sale.
For Tracey Rooks, life with her grandparents on a Wyoming farm has always been simple. But after her grandmother’s death, Tracey is all her grandfather has. So when Eagle Elite University announces its annual scholarship lottery, Tracey jumps at the opportunity to secure their future and enters. She isn’t expecting much-but then she wins. And life as she knows it will never be same . . .
The students at Eagle Elite are unlike any she’s ever met . . . and they refuse to make things easy for her. There’s Nixon, gorgeous, irresistible, and leader of a group that everyone fears: The Elect. Their rules are simple. 1. Do not touch The Elect. 2. Do not look at The Elect. 3. Do not speak to The Elect. No matter how hard she tries to stay away, The Elect are always around her and it isn’t long until she finds out the reason why they keep their friends close and their enemies even closer. She just didn’t realize she was the enemy — until it was too late.
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I pushed open the door and immediately threw off my jacket, followed by my shirt. Then I addressed my skirt. I heard chuckling.
My hands froze on my skirt’s zipper. I looked up.
Nixon lay across my bed. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”
I flipped him off.
He laughed harder.
I quickly pulled on the tank top I’d worn to bed and thrown across the chair. “What do you want?”
“Not sex, but thanks for the offer.”
“I was not…” I took three deep breaths. Arguing got me nowhere with Satan. “Why are you here?”
“Waiting for my sister. What else?”
I exhaled in relief.
“What, you disappointed I didn’t want an afternoon screw?”
“Not at all.” I sat far far away on Monroe’s bed. “Besides, if you needed one, all you’d have to do is knock on any door on this floor. Just be sure to use protection. I know how you are about germs.”
“Only yours,” he sang.
I threw a pillow in his direction, hoping to smack him in the face. He caught it mid-air and scowled. “Can you at least wait for her outside?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” I ground my teeth together. At the rate I was going I would have nothing left to grind.
“Because, I like your bed. It’s comfortable.”
“It has my germs and I swear to you I drooled all over my pillow last night.”
He shrugged. “I only hate germs on people, not objects.”
Nixon looked at his watch then put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“Why what, Farm Girl?”
“Why don’t you like people touching you? Is that your rule or an Elite thing?”
“You ask a lot of questions for someone so stupid.”
That stung, but I was too tired to let it sink too far into my consciousness. “It is the only way to find out how to survive in this place.”
“You’ll survive, if you follow the rules. I thought I told you that.” He propped up on his elbow. “The system works, Trace. I know you think I’m an asshole, but if I was nice, they would eat you alive. Wouldn’t you rather I do the tasting?” He smirked.
Damn, I was literally itching to punch him in the jaw.
“Why can’t everyone just be nice and get along?”
He groaned into his hands and stood. “Maybe I will wait outside.”
“You do that.”
He walked to the door and then stopped. “Has anyone made fun of you today?”
“Is this a trick question?” I asked, jumping off Monroe’s bed. “You make fun of me all the time!”
“Other than me.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Tell me the truth.”
“N-no,” I stuttered. “No one made fun of me today[ce1] .”
“I guess my point is made.”
“The hell it is.” I bent down and picked up another pillow to throw at his face. “You think you have that much power? To protect me from them? You think you’re that much better? That what you do is better than what typical college kids could do to me?”
His eyebrows rose. “Care to make a wager?”
“Fine!” I poked him in the chest.
Nixon closed his eyes as if in pain. “Please don’t touch me.”
I backed off but only because he’d said please.
“I’ll stop bothering you…but when I win—when you can’t take it anymore—when you are living in hell every single day, I want to hear it from your lips. Not Monroe’s, not Chase’s. I want you to approach me. I want you to tell me…”
“Tell you what?” I whispered.
“That you need me.”
“When hell freezes over!” I snapped.
“Bring a parka, because life’s a bitch and you just bought a first class ticket, sweetheart.”
I was still in a crappy mood when Monroe finally arrived. True to his word, Nixon sat outside, at the door, waiting for her. Why he didn’t text her or call her I have no idea.
I couldn’t really hear what they were saying. But Monroe was yelling, and Nixon was yelling, and I was pretty sure one of them was going to throw a punch.
So I was really surprised when Monroe bounced into the room with a wide smile on her face. “Guess what!”
“You killed your brother?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that lucky, no.” With a huff she sat on her bed. “The Elect are throwing a party tonight and I get to bring you!”
Excuse me while I pull out my pom-poms. “Swell.”
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken
or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
Elude by Rachel Van Dyken ~ Blog Tour & Giveaway
“You weren’t kidding about those mimosas.” Andi yawned behind her hand as we walked through Lincoln Park. I’d originally thought to take her to the zoo since she had that odd fascination with animals, but after seeing how tired she was, I decided to save it for another day.
“Well…” I held in my chuckle. “…when you have five of them…”
“I had three.” She held up four fingers.
“Good to know you’re just fine.” I laughed. “Should I carry you?”
“Probably.” She gave me a dopey grin. “But I think I can at least make it to the car.”
“It’s about a mile away.”
“Oh.” Her face fell.
“How about a piggyback ride?” I offered lamely, hating that a simple walk to the car was making her sad because she was so exhausted.
She stopped walking and crossed her arms. “Riding a cowboy was on the list.”
“I’m not following.”
“Talk to me in a southern accent, and I’ll imagine a cowboy hat on that gorgeous head of hair and boom… I’m riding a cowboy.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Andi, I have so many different scenarios that would fit perfectly with that statement. None of them, however, include me carrying you through the park while singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart.'”
“Oh good. You know it then?”
“I need to learn the art of silence.”
“Probably true.” She nodded.
“And teach it to you,” I added.
“Aw, come on cowboy…”
I rolled my eyes and turned around so she could jump onto my back. “Should I find a park bench, or can you actually jump this high?”
“Never ask a ninja if she can jump — it’s degrading.”
“My mistake. I thought you were a short Russian masquerading as a baker. Go ahead, ninja. Jump.”
She did, probably using the rest of the energy she had left. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. “Mush.”
“I thought I was a horse.”
“I changed my mind. Girls can do that on occasion.”
Damn, the girl made me smile. The afternoon sun was starting to set as we walked along the path. Andi was encouraging me to use a southern accent in her most Russian accent.
And I was trying to pay attention to our surroundings, just in case we’d somehow been followed.
I thought we were in the clear until we reached the edge of the park. I could see the street, and immediately regretted that simple fact the minute two black sedans pulled up to the curb.
Five men got out.
Two from the first car.
Three from the second.
Andi tensed behind me.
“Andi.” I kept my smile in place like there wasn’t anything wrong. “Got any energy left?”
“Enough.” She shuddered behind me.
“My gun,” I whispered. “It’s in the back of my pants. Reach between your legs and slide it up so nobody sees.”
“You know in any other situation…” she muttered as I felt the gun slide up my back.
“Good,” I encouraged. “The minute I put you down I want you to aim for the guy to the left. Don’t shoot for the head. Hit his kneecap so he goes down. If he reaches for his gun—”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”
“You’re right. I forget.”
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
The tension left my body. “I won’t. Just don’t get shot. I hate having to sew up bullet wounds.”
“Please.” I could feel the energy riding off her body. “You owe me a massage if my body count’s higher.”
“So now it’s a competition?”
“Russians rarely lose.”
“Well, you should get used to it. Because this Italian’s going to hand you your ass.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
The men were trying to look nonchalant, outside their cars, smoking cigars like they weren’t waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.
“One,” I whispered.
Andi slid farther down my back. “Two.”
“Three.” The word fell from my lips just as I ducked to the right. Andi went to my left and popped off two rounds directly into the guy’s kneecaps — not just one, but both of them. A crunching sound broke out across the park as he fell on bones, cracking them further. He wailed in pain and surprisingly didn’t reach for his gun.
Three of the men started charging me. Gun less, I could only rely on the fact that my fists were just as deadly as any gun could be, and I punched the first man in the throat then turned and elbowed the next. They stumbled back. Another gunshot went off. Andi was seriously picking them off like she was shooting fish in a bucket.
The three men turned their heads to glare at her. Then, rather than attacking, came at me again.
Surprised, I was knocked in the face by the first guy but sidestepped the next hit then landed a hard blow to his stomach followed by a knee to the groin. With a growl, I head-butted the next guy then punched him in the jaw; the sound of teeth breaking was my only indication that he’d be down for the count.
The final man circled me.
“Let me get him,” Andi pleaded behind me.
“He’s mine,” I barked.
The man shrugged and held up his hands. “You should let girl do your work.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Andi,” the man called, “why not come with us, huh? You’ve done job. Time to come home.”
“Job?” I repeated.
Andi came up beside me and aimed the gun for his forehead. “I’ve never worked for you.”
“Oh?” The man chuckled and glanced at me. “He knows as well as I know… you are never out.”
“Please let me pull the trigger.”
The man ran at us.
I ducked then heaved my body into his, sending him backward against the park bench. Punch after punch I landed to his face, his blood mixing with the slices breaking out on my knuckles.
The sound of sirens interrupted my blatant mutilation of his body.
“Serg…” Andi kicked me. “…gotta disappear.”
I backed up, chest heaving. “Right.”
With one last kick to his body, I grabbed her hand and ran like hell toward our car, our very easy-to-spot car.
Elude by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.
Yessi’s Review
I only have one word to describe Elude: Beautiful. Beautiful, graceful, awe-inspiring. Okay, three words.
Rachel Van Dyken tackles a delicate subject in a way I’ve yet to encounter in any book. Because let’s face it, facing one’s death is ugly and gut wrenching. But Andi was so beautiful, so optimistic, so completely Andi, that watching her go through her struggles inspired me. She is my hero and so much more than my favorite character in any book.
And Sergio. When forced to marry and protect a dying girl, he approaches it in true Sergio form and offers to kill her. Seriously. When she declines his kind offer, he marries her and vows to protect her with his life.
What ensues is a heartwarming story of humor, strength, loyalty, love, and triumph. But mostly life. Elude is about life, about living, about not just merely existing or breathing.
So when you read this book (and I say when because there should be no if), breathe it in, experience it, live it. Elude is a story that demands all three.
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .
