Hell's Kitchen Blurb
Theo and Sal Barbieri are brothers, tasked by their Mafioso father Roberto with a very clear purpose: kidnap Kaitlin McLaughlin. The beautiful daughter of Roberto’s Irish enemy, it’s high time Kaitlin was punished for her father’s sins—not to mention, her own.
And Operation: Kidnap Kaitlin is a roaring success… until it isn’t. When Kaitlin escapes into the busy streets of New York City, it’s a race against the clock to find her before Sal and Theo become the hunted.
Zeth Mayfair has traded life as a hitman for a quieter existence, but it isn’t long before the past catches up with him in the form of Roberto Barbieri. Will he succumb to the lure of power that Roberto is offering? Or will he retaliate by killing every last Barbieri in New York to get them off his back?
Jason Ross is running. Woken in the night by a tip that the Gypsy Brothers are coming for him, he packs a bag and gets his girlfriend the hell out of dodge. Arriving in New York City in the midst of a heatwave is one thing, but being tailed by an entire drug cartel is another.
Worlds collide in Hell’s Kitchen as secrets come to light and sins are punished. Because we might be different in the light of day, but in the darkness, we’re all connected somehow.
*Hell’s Kitchen is a series comprising three volumes: Hell’s Kitchen, Tribeca and Bleecker Street. Volume One is NOW LIVE, with a limited-time sale price of 99 cents* |
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Read the first chapter of Hell's Kitchen
Chapter One: Roberto
“Find that little Irish bitch,” I say, surveying my sons with disdain. Disdain is fast becoming the norm where Sal and Theo are concerned, but surely they’re capable of doing this one thing for me. One thing that will show those Irish fuckers they can’t screw with the Barbieri family and get away with it. One thing that will ensure the McLaughlins never fuck with us again.
As far as days go, it’s a shitty day to kidnap someone, let alone the most protected bitch in the entire state of New York, but this ain’t our first time at the rodeo. So long as the boys think with their heads and not their cocks, it should be a simple task.
“This air-conditioning sucks balls,” Sal, my younger boy says. He’s right, but his tone irritates me so much, I have to clench my fists to stop myself from retaliating with violence. He’s got nothing to complain about, standing there like a cocky little prick, watching me do the food prep. It’s hot as fuck in Hell’s Kitchen as it is, but standing next to the industrial deep fryer as I drop thin slices of veal into bubbling oil, it’s positively sweltering.
“We got a starting point?” Sal asks.
The meat sizzles as it hits the burning fat. “Been a long time since I had to hold your fucking dick for you when you had to take a piss, son. You seem to be able to figure that out all on your own these days. I’m sure you can figure this out, too. How hard can picking up a teenage girl really be?”
Theo, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands covered in blood—a picture of violence, as always—shrugs. “She’s not just some kid we can snatch off the short bus. She’s got bodyguards. Two of them. Ex-military bastards.”
“One of them’s a fucking woman,” I spit. I cast my eyes over my sons: first Salvatore, then Theo, not sure who I’m more pissed off with. Not sure which one of them is the least like me. If I hadn’t kept a close eye on my wife before she fucking died, there’s a strong possibility I’d be questioning our boys’ paternity. Fucking weak, both of them. Just like their mother.
“Hey,” I snap, “you getting my meat ready or finger-fucking it over there?”
Sal snickers. Theo scowls.
“What the fuck are you laughing at, boy?” I hiss.
Sal shrugs as he pushes off the wall he’s been leaning against and reaches into the waistband of his jeans, pulling out his Glock and checking the chamber. Seemingly satisfied, he tucks the gun back in place. “Got a photo?”
I make a small sound of irritation in the back of my throat as I pause my deep frying and wipe my hands on the rag that hangs over my shoulder. Reaching into my breast pocket, I pull out a 5x7 print and hand it over to my younger son. Sal pinches the photograph between his thumb and index finger and pulls, but I make no move to let go. “We’ve got one chance at this, you understand? You don’t get her this time, we’re fucked.”
If only they knew.
Sal nods, and I finally let the photograph slip from my grasp. Theo, still elbow deep in meat and blood, cocks his head to the side, motioning for Sal to bring the photo closer. Sal obliges, standing beside his brother and holding the photograph up for both of them to see.
I can already anticipate the reaction these two will have. Kaitlin McLaughlin grew the fuck up. And she grew up hot. Long platinum blonde hair, arrow-straight. Green eyes, flecked with brown. Full lips, the works. She looks fuckable, but in a barely legal kind of way. I already know that Theo’s pretty good at spotting girls under the age of consent, and this kid still has a look of jail time about her. A hint of arrogance, too. It lurks behind the cold smile that teases at the corners of her mouth—like she knows something you don’t, only I do know her secrets. Nevertheless, girls like that are always trouble. Always better off avoided like the plague. And here I am, about to send these two after the kid like I’ve got a goddamn death wish. “How old?” Theo asks.
“Does it matter?” I don’t look up from his task. I can feel Theo’s eyes on me, and I wonder if he’s staring at the deep, purple scar that zigzags down my temple and over my cheekbone as I work. He has a hard time looking me in the eye, that one, too fascinated with my war wounds. “She’s Paddy McLaughlin’s blood,” I say emphatically. “This is the way it’s always been. The sins of the father are visited upon the heads of his children. She could be thirty or she could be three fucking months old. It wouldn’t matter. We’d still be having this conversation. Paddy McLaughlin’s people have fucked with our people. And now we’re gonna fuck with his.”
Sal baulks. “You want us to kill Paddy’s daughter?”
I lift my head, lift my knife—and point the business end at my sons. “You two don’t touch a single hair on her fucking head, you understand? That’s above your pay grade.” I stab the end of the knife into the chopping board in front of me. The wood splinters apart with the force of my rage. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a folded piece of paper and slap it into Sal’s open palm. “Program this number into your phone. Right now.”
“What is it?” Strange numbers never normally equal anything good, and he knows this better than anyone by now. His fingers still quickly key the number into his cell as he frowns at me, though.
“I have something coming up. Something big that I need a professional to deal with. That number belongs to one of Charlie Holsan’s ex employees.”
“Charlie Holsan? The crazy English bastard that runs Seattle?” Theo asks.
“Charlie Holsan ain’t running shit these days. Guy got stabbed in the neck with a fork from what I hear. No one is running Seattle now, and I want that fucking city. A power vacuum needs to be filled, boys.”
“And that’s the big job?” Sal asks, screwing the paper into a ball and tossing it into the trash. “You want to take Seattle? Why not let us do it?”
I shake my head, pounding a tenderizing hammer into the meat on the chopping board in front of me. Why do they insist on knowing everything? “Kidnap the girl. Bring her back here. Call that number and get the motherfucker on side. Today. That’s all you boys need to worry about. Now get to fucking work.”
*****
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I'm THRILLED to be visiting the USA again, especially since it means I get to meet some of my readers! I'm putting on an Exclusive VIP book signing and drinks for a small group and it's going to be amazing! It's a little over two weeks away, so be quick to secure your tickets! $30 gets you in the door and includes entry to the signing, plus dinner (finger food style) at the amazing bar reserved JUST FOR US! Check out all the details and reserve your spot by clicking HERE. |
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Teasers- Meet some of the players...
Excerpt
“When he lunges for me, I’m ready. I deflect the hand he was going to grab me with, slapping it downward, and then I grab onto his wrist, pulling him off balance. He seesaws forward but then rips his wrist out of my hand. I don’t expect him to turn his slight fumble to his own advantage, but he does. Dropping to the floor, he rolls and kicks out, landing a solid strike to my leg. I have less than a second to brace myself before I’m hitting the concrete.
Then he’s on top of me. “Oh, this is fun, sweetheart. But I don’t really have time to be playing games with you right now.”
He’s reaching for my arms, about to pin me to the ground, but I jab, landing a solid hit with my extended fingertips right in the base of his throat, in his windpipe. He chokes, his body falling sideways, and then I’m on top of him. Through watering eyes and a clearly sore throat, the guy grins up at me, shaking his head. “Well, if you wanna fuck me, I guess I could make some time.” Thrusting upward, he tries to unseat me, but I know this is what’s coming and I’m ready again. I compensate, leaning forward, pressing my gun into the guy’s neck.
“Who are you?”
His body goes still, his hands lifting so they’re palm up in front of him. “You know who I am, sweetheart. I’m the enemy.”
“My boss has quite a few enemy camps. Which one do you belong to?”
“The biggest one,” the guy says, smiling. “The Italian one.”
“So you work for Barbieri?”
“I am a Barbieri.” Lightning fast, he snaps his hand out and clamps it around my throat. The move catches me off guard, has me panicking for the first time. My gun is gone, then, knocked to the ground, skittering away across the blacktop. The guy’s hand tightens around the column of my neck, threatening to squeeze even harder. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Feeling a little lightheaded?”
About the Authors
Callie Hart
Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and molding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.
Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.
Lili Saint Germain
Lili writes dark romance, suspense and paranormal stories. Her serial novel, Seven Sons, was released in early 2014, with the following books in the series to be released in quick succession. Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, good coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Pinterest.
She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.
Release event information & graphic
Leather & Lace - Las Vegas
Callie Hart & Lili St. Germain are coming back to the US! Just in time for the release of their joint project Hell's Kitchen. Join Callie and Lili, Saturday March 14th, at the super cool Inspire News Cafe from 5-7 for a special printing and signing of their newest book and a Q& A session.
Then, come upstairs to the Wayfarer Bar, from 7-9 for cocktails (cash bar) and laughs. It'll be a fun evening with Hell's Kitchen chatter, some themed cocktails, light bites and a chance to spend some more time talking about all things Hart St Germain.
**Books that are printed will be available for purchase for around $10. Exact price to be confirmed closer to event date. This is pretty awesome! The machine that prints books while you watch is one of only 30 in the world! You'll be able to take away your unique, limited edition of Hell's Kitchen, signed by both authors - There will never be others that look like the ones printed in Vegas.
**Snack foods will be provided.
**All drinks are your responsibility
The Venues
Inspire News Cafe (downstairs) and Wayfarer Bar (upstairs) are both gorgeous, hip venues with kick ass atmosphere! The Wayfarer bar is where we'll finish the night and is a gorgeous, mad-men inspired bar that will be closed just for attendees!
Thank you!!!
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