Authors: Jay Crownover
First I gotta give all the love to the two tiny blondes that rule my writing world, Stacey Donaghy of the
Donaghy Literary Group, who is my fearless agent, and Amanda Bergeron, my brilliant editor from
HarperCollins. They are both equally important for bringing these Marked Men into the world and I
honestly don’t know what my life would look like without either one of them. I adore that they just let me
do my thing (with the proper amount of reining in) and that the end result is always so much better than I
imagined. I am truly blessed to get to work with women that I genuinely like, respect, and admire.
The other person key to my writing world is my book bestie. Oh, you can call her what you want, I
always say she is a woman of many talents and many names. To me she is a sounding board, a friend, a
fellow book lover, and for Nash’s story not only is the inspiration for one of the characters, she was also
my medical guru, my Nursey-No-Mercy. Thanks, Mel, for always being there, for offering your knowledge
and support, and for generously giving me punctuation and feedback in every first draft I write. Thanks for
being an awesome critique partner and just all-around an awesome friend. I love you and your giant brain
so hard.
I never had too many complaints about running a bar. It was a really fun job. I got to meet cool and
interesting people. I got to play with booze all day. Beer delivery guys are pretty cute and have big muscles,
and I always got to stay up late and never had to get up early. That being said, this new job I have kicks that
job’s butt, and the people I’ve been fortunate enough to meet in the last year … well, I can’t tell you how
exciting and interesting it has been. From fellow authors, publishing professionals, to bloggers, to readers,
to event organizers, to the people I have Internet-befriended along the way. Book people are the best. End
of story. Thank you all for making the last year a blast, and I gotta thank Sophie Jordan, Jennifer
Armentrout, Cora Carmack, and Lisa Desrochers for showing the new girl the ropes and making me feel
welcome. I love hanging out with these ladies and it’s always a good time when we get in the same room.
Of course, my folks always need to get a shout out because they are awesome and there are none better.
Did you know my dad is coming to my European signings with me this year? If you see a guy walking
around that has a cowboy mustache and probably something with a Dodge logo on it, that’s him. Buy him a
beer or a shot of Jack and tell him thanks for being the base inspiration for all these hot guys swimming
around in my head. My mom is wonderful. She’s not only my biggest fan but my closest confidante. I just
love her to pieces and I’m grateful that with all the opportunities I’ve had come my way, I get to experience
so many of them with her. She likes red wine and has lots and lots of blond hair if you want to buy her a
drink instead.
I can’t write a story about loving yourself, about knowing you are fabulous just the way you are, and
not throw out a thank-you to my bestie. She’s amazing at this. Really understands the importance of it, and
the journey she had to take in order to remember how wonderful and amazing she really is was
heartbreaking. But she got back to where she needed to be and I couldn’t be prouder or more stoked for
her. She is always the strongest, most beautiful person I know inside and out. I just LOVE Settie Phillips to
a million pieces. I am so very lucky I get the honor of having her as my best friend.
And always my most important, most heartfelt and overwhelming amount of thanks goes out to you …
the reader. OMG, where would I be without you guys? I will always be taken aback, dumbfounded, and
completely humbled when I get an e-mail saying something I wrote is their favorite book, or that they
related to what the characters are going through, or that they appreciate how “real” my storytelling is. I
never really thought past hitting publish on
Rule,
so now that we are four books in, I really can’t tell you
how much value and wonder all of you have brought into my life. I think of each and every single reader as
a gift, as a compatriot, as a fellow book lover, and as a friend. Thank you so very much from the bottom of
my tattooed heart.
The above goes for all you amazing and dedicated bloggers out there. Thank you for the support. Thank
you for being invested in this world I have created. Thank you for spreading the word and taking the time
and effort to write reviews and give valuable space and time on your blogs to me and the boys. Thank you
for all that you do!!
Finally, I have to tell you how much I love the girls at
http://literatiauthorservices.com/
. Karen, Michelle, and Rosette have made my now hectic and busy life far more manageable. They are organized and efficient,
but mostly they are delightful and wonderful ladies. They know it all, the business end, the blogging end,
the reading end, and the promotional end. I wouldn’t just trust my boys in the hands of anyone, and I tell
them all the time working with them is the best decision I ever made!! If you need marketing or
promotional help, look them up, you won’t be sorry you did it.
I love my dogs. That is all.
Did you fall in love with Nash and Saint? Want to go back to where it all started?
Then keep reading …
Opposites don’t just attract … They catch fire and burn the city down
Click
here
to buy now or turn the page to read an extract
CHAPTER 1
Rule
At first I thought the pounding in my head was my brain trying to fight its way out of my skull after the
ten or so shots of Crown Royal I had downed last night, but then I realized the noise was someone storming
around in my apartment.
She
was here, and with dread I remembered that it was Sunday. No matter how
many times I told her, or how rude I was to her, or whatever kind of debauched and unsavory condition
she found me in, she showed up every Sunday morning to drag me home for brunch.
A soft moan from the other side of the bed reminded me that I hadn’t come home alone from the bar
last night. Not that I remembered the girl’s name or what she looked like, or if it had even been worth her
while to stumble into my apartment with me. I ran a hand over my face and swung my legs over the edge of
the bed just as the bedroom door swung open. I never should have given the little brat a key. I didn’t bother
to cover up; she was used to walking in and finding me hungover and naked—I didn’t see why today
should be any different. The girl on the other side of the bed rolled over and narrowed her eyes at the new
addition to our awkward little party.
“I thought you said you were single?” The accusation in her tone lifted the hair on the back of my neck.
Any chick who was willing to come home with a stranger for a night of no-strings-attached sex didn’t get
the right to pass judgment, especially while she was still naked and rumpled in my bed.
“Give me twenty,” I said, my eyes shifting to the blonde in the doorway as I ran a hand through my
messy hair.
She lifted an eyebrow. “You have ten.”
I would have lifted an eyebrow back at her tone and attitude but my head was killing me, and the
gesture would have been wasted on her anyway; she was way past immune to my shit.
“I’ll make coffee. I already invited Nash but he said he has to go to the shop for an appointment. I’ll be
in the car.” She spun on her heel, and, just like that, the doorway was empty. I was struggling to my feet,
searching the floor for the pair of pants I might have tossed down there last night.
“What’s going on?”
I had temporarily forgotten about the girl in my bed. I swore softly under my breath and tugged a black
T-shirt that looked reasonably clean over my head. “I have to go.”
“What?”
I frowned at her as she lifted herself up in the bed and clutched the sheet to her chest. She was pretty
and had a nice body from what I could see. I wondered what kind of game I had thrown at her in order to
get her to come home with me. She was one I didn’t mind waking up to this morning.
“I have somewhere I need to be, so that means you need to get up and get going. Normally my
roommate would be around, so you could hang out for a minute, but he had to go to work, so that means
you need to get that fine ass in gear and get out.”
She sputtered a little at me. “Are you kidding me?”
I looked over my shoulder as I dug my boots out from under a pile of laundry and shoved my feet into
them. “No.”
“What kind of asshole does that? Not even a ‘thanks for last night, you were great, how about lunch?’
Just ‘get the fuck out’?” She threw the sheet aside and I noticed she had a nice tattoo scrawled along her
ribs that curled across her shoulder and along her collarbone. That was probably what had attracted me to
her in my drunken stupor in the first place. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
I was a whole lot more than just a piece of work, but this chick, who was just one of oh so many, didn’t
need to know that. I silently cursed my roommate, Nash, who was the real shit here. We had been best
friends since elementary school, and I could normally rely on him to run interference for me on Sunday
mornings when I had to bail, but I had forgotten about the piece he was supposed to be finishing up today.
That meant I was on my own when it came to hustling last night’s tail out the door and getting a move on
before the brat left without me, which was a bigger headache than I needed in my current state.
“Hey, what’s your name anyway?”
If she wasn’t pissed before, she was downright infuriated now. She climbed back into a supershort
black skirt and a barely there tank top. She fluffed up her mound of dyed blond hair and glared at me out
of eyes now smudged with old mascara. “Lucy. You don’t remember?”
I slimed some crap in my hair to make it stand up in a bunch of different directions and sprayed on
cologne to help mask the scent of sex and booze that I was sure still clung to my skin. I shrugged a shoulder
at her and waited as she hopped by me on one foot putting on heels that just screamed
dirty sex
.
“I’m Rule.” I would have offered to shake her hand but that seemed silly so I just pointed to the front
door of the apartment and stepped in the bathroom to brush the stale taste of whiskey out of my mouth.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen. Maybe you should write your number down and I can give you a call
another time. Sundays aren’t good days for me.” She would never know how true that statement was.
She glared at me and tapped the toe of one of those awesome shoes. “You really have no idea who I am,
do you?”
This time, even against my throbbing brain’s wishes, my eyebrow went up and I looked at her with a
mouthful of toothpaste foam. I just stared at her until she screeched at me and pointed at her side. “You
have to at least remember this!”
No wonder I liked her ink so much; it was one of mine. I spit the toothpaste in the sink and gave myself