03.31.17 – EXCLUSIVE PEEK!

Happy Friday, book babes!

Today is a bitter-sweet day for me. Had everything gone as originally planned, X-394 would be live right at this very moment! Things quite obviously did not work out that way, but I’ve come to terms with it and I’m okay. I mean, everything happens for a reason, right? RIGHT. ♥

As I prepare to type THE END on the new and improved manuscript this weekend, I thought I’d throw a few things out into the world on the original release date…just for shits and gigs, you know? 😉 So, I’m leaving the prologue here, and not a small snippet of it…ALL OF IT. ***Please bear in mind it has not yet seen my editor! 😛

Enjoy, loves!

XO, Dee


Copyright © 2017 Dee Garcia

Prologue

“Please d-don’t.” The older man stammered the moment I lifted my hand from over his mouth.
With my blade still pressed to his neck, I brought my lips a hairsbreadth from his ear and hissed, “careful, Mr. Williams. You move but a millimeter and you’ll be gasping for air.”
“I need more time. Please,” he begged, his body rattling against mine in pure fear.
I chuckled darkly.
They all say that.
“You’ve had more than enough time. Not only has my father granted you several extensions, he’s spared you the consequences when you’ve failed to meet your deadlines. But now you’re playing games, John,” I bore down the knife with a bit more pressure, “and Daddy Dearest doesn’t particularly enjoy being toyed with.”
“I’m s-sorry!”
“Yeah,” I cooed. “I bet you are. Unfortunately sorry isn’t going to clear your debt and your time seems to be exhausted. So, either you pay up or I’m sure you have an inkling as to how this ends.”
“I only have half. I just need one more extension and then…”
I clamped a lace gloved hand over his mouth once more and yanked his head back against my shoulder, effectively bringing his words to a halt. “Ehhh, wrong answer” -panicked brown eyes met mine- “This will be quick. Close your eyes and count to ten.”
He shook his head in a silent plea for his life and I merely nodded without an ounce of remorse.
“Go on. One, two.” I encouraged.
“Three, four,” he mumbled against my hand, a single tear trickling down his cheek.
“Five… Rest in peace, Mr. Williams,” I said softly.
And then I slid the blade along his throat, watching in fascination as he gasped and a stream of crimson began pouring down the front of his crisp white dress shirt. Laying his soon-to-be lifeless body down on the carpeted floor, I wiped my knife clean on his slacks and slid it back into the holster strapped to my thigh, exiting his suite with a soft click of the door thereafter. Approximately four minutes later, I was sliding into the driver’s seat of my black GranTurismo, mentally checking off another mark from my never-ending list.
Two hundred ninety-eight…
The engine roared to life and I took off for the other side of town, the chirp of my phone sounding off as I merged onto the highway. Pulling off my gloves, I tossed them into the passenger seat and hit a button on the steering wheel to connect the call.
“It’s done,” I said by way of greeting, already knowing who the caller was.
“Excellent. Job well done as usual, little sister.” My eldest brother, Alessio, praised me. “You know Pa is going to pleased about this one.”
I smirked, imagining his face. “Yeah, I know. Tell him I’ll be there soon.”
“Will do. Drive saf-”
Without another word, I ended the call and cranked the volume on the radio, dropping my foot on the gas as the last twenty minutes of my life replayed vividly in my mind.
The question I’m certain you’re dying to ask is who am I?
Well, I’ll tell you, as long as you can keep a secret…
My name is Eden Scarsi.
In simplest terms possible, I’m death personified.
It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it, especially when my father is gracious enough to lend out his hard earned money. There are deadlines, of course, and sometimes these loanees have no sense of time.
But time is of the essence.
What happens when they miss said deadlines, you ask?
Daddy sends me.
And I’m the last person you want knocking on your door. Except I don’t knock. I don’t make a fucking sound.
They don’t call me The Silent Reaper for nothing…

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