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Love can be deadly when you fall for the wrong man. Marisol learns that the hard way. On October 6, 2026, Breaking Her Enforcer will be live. But let’s skip the release day hoopla and dive into the book now.
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BLURB
A drive-by shooting lands him in the hospital. And in the arms of temptation.
Cartel enforcer Ángel Rascón knows he should stay away from the woman who saved his life. Marisol is a sensual blend of fire and innocence, irresistible to his inner beast. She’s also the little sister of a man now on the run from the cartel—Ángel’s friend and former partner. Getting involved with her could destroy everything he’s worked for, but when she’s threatened, it’s game on.
Physical therapist Marisol Cruz knows Ángel is dangerous, yet he’s always there. Watching. Waiting. Wanting. After her brother’s enemies track her down, Ángel appoints himself her protector with every intoxicating kiss.
Ángel will have to risk his position—and his life—to keep her safe. But Marisol faces the most devastating choice of all. Loving her stubborn enforcer may mean losing her brother forever.
Excerpt
Ángel latched the squeaky iron gate behind him and crept across Marisol’s darkened front yard. The soothing droll of crickets masked the sound of his footsteps while the overgrown trees, shrubs, and cacti at the far property line shielded him from any nosy neighbors. Not that she had any in this quiet, working-class neighborhood on the city’s outskirts. As he braced himself against the side of her house, the rough stucco scraped his jacket and the back of his head as it always did. Yellow light poured from the living room window in horizontal beams as though to expose him.
Fuck that. He wasn’t an amateur.
Faint music seeped from inside the house.
He smirked, willing to bet his bank account that Marisol was streaming reruns of her favorite telenovela. Desperate for a glimpse of her, he pressed closer toward the glass pane and peered through the slatted blinds.
Inside, Marisol was bundled under a thick red-and-green checkered quilt on the sofa and cheered like a love-struck teenager over something that happened on the TV.
Damn right. He knew his woman well. From the high-stakes story lines to the nineteenth-century period costumes, Las Sombras del Imperio had found its way into countless living rooms across the country. Including his own.
After the program ended, Marisol turned off the television, slipped on her fuzzy house shoes, and grabbed her dinner plate and glass.
He darted around the house and ducked under a mesquite branch in the side yard. The crisp breeze rustled through the leafy branches, swept back his hair, and chilled his skin. Gritting his teeth, he huddled deeper into his denim jacket. His thick, cable-knit shirt caught against the hard ridge over his collarbone, irritating the taut skin. A deep, metallic chill radiated from the inside out, numbing the fracture site with a dull ache. He yanked the collar away from his neck and cursed.
Light now streamed out from the kitchen window.
As the rambunctious mutt next door yapped at something stirring in the bushes, Marisol peered out the glass into the darkness. Fine lines crimped her face.
Ángel slunk deeper into the shadowy foliage. Once she focused on washing the dishes, he swiped a branch out of his way and rolled his tight, sore shoulders. A low grunt tore from his mouth.
Distant laughter rang out, disrupting the tranquility of the night.
He tsked, shaking his head. The university-aged kids who lived in that dingy house at the end of the street were partying again. It was only Thursday, for fuck’s sake. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if he had any room to judge. At twenty-eight years old, he’d surely partied harder than those guys down the block could imagine.
He pulled his phone from his jeans back pocket and checked his notifications. Nothing from Raul. Or Muniz. What the hell was going on with them? He slid the cell back in.
A crash echoed from the other side of the house.
Ángel jerked upright.
Marisol flung her dish towel aside and raced out of the kitchen.
“Mierda,” Ángel dashed back around the house and snatched his gun from his hip holster. His pulse thundered in his ears. Icy dread slashed through his stomach.
The front door hung open.
“Get out!” Marisol shouted from inside. Something shattered. “Get out of my house!”
The ARC for Breaking Her Enforcer is now available. 🌶️
| My Steamy Readers ARC Team got first dibs, but now I’m opening my doors to everyone. Stop the endless scrolling on BookSirens and StoryOrigin for your next read. I got what you need. Breaking Her Enforcer is available at both locations. All readers are vetted to weed out the freebie seekers and non-reviewers. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but several readers received my previous release for free and didn’t review it, so I can no longer go by the honor system. Thank you for understanding. Request the ARC: |
