Cover Reveal: Dark Protector by Celia Aaron
Title: Dark Protector
Author: Celia Aaron
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 27, 2017
From the moment I saw her through the
window of her flower shop, something other than darkness took root
inside me. Charlie shone like a beacon in a world that had long since
lost any light. But she was never meant for me, a man that killed
without remorse and collected bounties drenched in blood.
I thought staying away would keep her
safe, would shield her from me. I was wrong. Danger followed in my
wake like death at a slaughter house. I protected her from the
threats that circled like black buzzards, kept her safe with kill
after kill.
But everything comes with a price,
especially second chances for a man like me.
Killing for her was easy. It was living
for her that turned out to be the hard part.
Author's Note: This is a full-length
romance novel. Explicit violence and hot sex included. HEA, no
cheating.
“Look.” He pulled his pistol from
its holster, laid it on the dresser, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“I realize this isn’t optimal for either of us. You don’t want
to be here.”
I tried not to stare at the gun, but I
was already trying to figure out if I could get to it before he
could.
“You can’t.” He glanced at the
gun then back to me. “I’ll always win.”
“Always?” I edged toward the door
to what looked like a bathroom.
He sighed, weariness heavy on his
exhale. “Yes. It’s what I do.”
“You kill? Is that what you mean?”
His face hardened, a muscle ticking in
his jaw. At that moment, I realized how truly terrifying he could be.
Built like a solid wall of muscle, at least six foot five, with a
handsome face and eyes that went cold in a heartbeat. I swallowed
hard and bumped into the doorframe at my back.
“I’m going to need to patch this.”
He jerked his chin toward his shoulder, but kept his eyes on me. “But
first, I’m going to take care of your nose and get you cleaned up.”
“First, you need to tell me why I’m
even here.” I couldn’t keep the shrill notes from my voice. “Why
did Berty take me? Why is this happening?”
He reached behind his head and pulled
his shirt off in a singularly masculine move. His abs flexed, and his
bare chest looked carved and hardened. Black ink trailed around his
arms and met in the center of his chest. “Death before dishonor”
was written between his pecs with a flourishing script. His fingers
had individual letters on each one. Scars dotted his body—some long
gashes with dots on either side from stitches, others that were
rounded or jagged. He was a battlefield, his story told with blood
and scar tissue.
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