As the clock strikes three, our little girl cries on cue. Lacey rolls off me and we both groan at the loss of each other’s bodies. I’m about to throw my legs over the edge of the bed when she lays a hand on my chest.
“I want to get her,” she says, bending to give me a quick kiss.
I lean my head back against the pillow and watch as she pulls on one of my t-shirts and hurries out of the room to tend to our baby. My eyes drift to the monitor next to my bed and I smile when she enters the nursery, making a beeline right for the crib. She effortlessly lifts her into her arms and brushes a kiss to her forehead and I swear I fall harder…deeper.
In love with life.
With my girls.
I climb out of bed and grab my sweats off the floor. Dragging them up my legs, I pull the drawstring tight as I pad out of our bedroom to the one across the hall. Spying my little Jacqueline sound asleep in her princess bed her grandpa Jack bought for her, I move to her side. Kneeling down, I brush her brown hair away from her beautiful face and kiss her cheek.
Lacey enters the room with Dominique contently sucking away at her bottle. I smile at the sight of them and she takes a seat in the rocking chair. My eyes dart from my first great love to my third and back to my second.
I’m one fucking lucky guy.
You’ve heard all about how we became property of Parrish.
Well, this right here is what being property of Blackie is all about.
THE END
Did you enjoy Blackout? Consider leaving a spoiler-free review! Reviews help your favorite authors reach new readers while encouraging them to write more stories for you to enjoy.
Excerpt from Rite Of Passage
Then
The latex snaps against my wrist and I wiggle my fingers inside the gloves before turning to the rolling tool chest that has been transformed into an ink station. It’s not ideal but then again, nothing about this situation has been. Grabbing the gauze, I pour some alcohol onto the swatch and rub it generously over Jack Parrish’s shoulder and the name of his predecessor that’s been inked to his skin since he left this dark and ugly world.
His jaw clenches as he lifts a bottle of whiskey to his lips and takes a swig. The man is going to bleed like a stuck pig, but there’s no use in trying to convince him to go easy on the booze. To be fair, if I was in shoes, I’d probably do worse damage. Afterall, it ain’t every day you find out the man you looked up to most in this world was a vile piece of shit.
For years Jack held Cain in the highest regard and called him his mentor. On occasion he was also Jack’s savior. I suppose that’s because there aren’t too many people who would back a mentally deranged man and advocate for him to take the throne of an outlaw motorcycle club. Cain put the gavel in Jack’s hand and for the last twenty years, Jack thought his predecessor believed in him, that he saw past the crazy. That he didn’t see him as a liability.
But what doesn’t come out in the wash, comes out in the rinse. Not only was Cain full of shit, he set Jack up to fail. He used his illness against him and conspired with scum to wipe the Satan’s Knights off the map. The cocksucker would’ve succeeded too if we didn’t uncover his secret and destroy his partner, Vladimir. Now, the destiny of the Satan’s Knights is uncertain and I’m blacking out the tribute of Cain inked to Jack’s body.
“You sure about this?” I ask him.
“Just fucking do it,” he growls, taking another swig. I grab my tattoo gun from the tool chest and glance around the garage at the room full of men, all who wear somber expressions on their faces. My gaze drifts to Riggs, and the light in his hand.
“Hold it high,” I tell him. He gives me a curt nod and I press my boot against the pedal. The gun buzzes to life and with a steady hand I start to black out the tattoo.
Jack doesn’t flinch.
He doesn’t even fucking grunt.
He takes one more swig of the bottle and I pause for more ink. Before I go back to work, he turns his head and glances down at the blackness covering his shoulder.
“Every story has room for a different ending, kid,” he mutters, lifting his bloodshot eyes to mine. “This is just another rite of passage.”
I nod silently.
I wonder how many of those we get in a lifetime.
With the way my life is going, I’ve probably used all mine up.
To keep reading click here.
Never miss a new release!
Subscribe to my newsletter today.
About the Author
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City and is an International Bestselling Author. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
When she isn't writing, she is busy planning the Tempted & Tantalizing Author Event, an annual book signing in her hometown of Staten Island, New York. She also recently started a mystery box subscription services that caters to bad boy characters and the various authors who write them.
Also by Janine Infante Bosco
The Tempted Series
Illicit Temptations
Forbidden Temptations
Uncontrollable Temptations
Reckless Temptations
Lethal Temptations
Eternal Temptations
The Satan’s Knights MC New York
Drifter
Wanderer
Roamer
Loner
From The Ruins
The Devil Don’t Sleep
Riding The Edge
Parrish
Blackout
Rite Of Passage
Shifting Gears
Breaking The Chains
Walking The Line
Oh Holy Knight
A Satan’s Knights & Tempted Series Novella
Detours & Dead Ends
The Tempted Series 2.0
Fight Or Flight
Ride Or Die
Below The Belt
The Pastore Crime Family Series
Connected
Straightened Out
Cocky Hero Club
Cocky Jerk
Stand Alones
Raging Inferno