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Title: Raze

Author: Tillie Cole

Age group: Mature new adult

Genre: Dark contemporary romance

Release date: 30th December 2014

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To take back life, one must first face death...

One man stripped of his freedom, his morals...his life.

Conditioned in captivity to maim, to kill and to slaughter, prisoner 818 becomes an unremorseful, 

unrivaled and unstoppable fighter in the ring. Violence is all he knows. Death and brutality are the 

masters of his fate.

After years of incarceration in an underground hell, only one thought occupies his mind: 

revenge...bloody, slow and violent revenge.

Revenge on the man who lied.

are available on Tuesday 30th December**

Revenge on the man who wronged him.

Revenge on the man who condemned him and turned him into this: a rage-fueled killing machine. 

A monster void of humanity; a monster filled with hate.

And no one will stand in the way of getting what he wants.

One woman stripped of her freedom, her morals...her life.

Kisa Volkova is the only daughter of Kirill ‘The Silencer’ Volkov, head of the infamous ‘Triad’ 

bosses of New York's Russian Bratva. Her life is protected. In reality, it’s a virtual prison. Her 

father’s savage treatment of his rivals and his lucrative and coveted underground gambling 

ring—The Dungeon—ensures too many enemies lurk at their door. 

She dreams to be set free.

Kisa has known only cruelty and loss in her short life. As manager of her father’s death match 

enterprise, only grief and pain fill her days. Her mafia boss father, in her world, rules absolute. And 

her fiancé, Alik Durov, is no better; the Dungeon’s five-time champion, a stone-cold killer, the 

treasured son of her father’s best friend, and her very own—and much resented—personal guard. 

Unrivaled in both strength and social standing, Alik controls every facet of Kisa’s life, dominates 

her every move; keeps her subdued and dead inside...then one night changes everything. 

While working for her church—the only reprieve in her constant surveillance—Kisa stumbles 

across a tattooed, scarred, but stunningly beautiful homeless man on the streets. Something about 

him stirs feelings deep within her; familiar yet impossibly forbidden desires. He doesn’t talk. 

Doesn’t communicate with anyone. He’s a man beyond saving, and a man she must quickly 

forget...for both their sakes. 

But when weeks later, out of the blue and to her complete surprise, he’s announced as the 

replacement fighter in The Dungeon, Kisa knows she’s in a whole lot of trouble. He’s built, ripped 

and lethally unforgiving to his opponents, leaving fear in his wake and the look of death in his eyes. 

Kisa becomes obsessed with him. Yearns for him. Craves his touch. Needs to possess this 

mysterious man...this man they call Raze.

“God bless you, child… God bless you… You always take such good 

care of me.” 

I smiled at the old man as he delved into his care package, 

immediately eating the ham sandwich that was tightly wrapped in saran 

wrap. He had been here at this spot for years. Well, I corrected myself, at 

least the three years I’d been serving with the church. Pav said this old man 

had probably been living on these streets for at least three decades. He 

always hid down here in this small alley, like a scared mouse afraid to leave 

his hole. I’d snuck away from my group against orders, but I couldn’t leave 

him without his food parcel. Something about this old man spurred me on to 

save him. He always looked so… broken, so sad.

I could relate.

“Kisa? Kisa, where are you?” A distant voice attracted my attention. I 

instantly recognized it as that of Pavel. 

Glancing down to check on the old man, I smiled when I noted he was 

wrapped up in warm blankets and buried under a mass of boxes hiding him 

from view.


Rolling my eyes, I groaned when Talia’s frantic voice joined that of 



Glancing toward the growing gathering of volunteers at the end of the 

long alleyway, I started to jog their way, when suddenly, a scruffy, bearded 

man ghosted out of the darkness, tripping me to the warm, wet ground with a 

deliberately outstretched foot. 

With no time to scream, I hit the ground, my palms scraping against 

rough asphalt. Suddenly, my attacker's weight pressed down on my back as 

he tried to snatch my purse. He stank of alcohol and stale body odor. I 

fought back a retch. I didn’t recognize him as one of the homeless who 

frequented this alley. And he had absolutely no idea whose daughter he was 

fucking with!

“No! Get off me! Help!” I tried to scream, but the man's weight on my 

back stole my voice from sounding out in the empty alley. The volunteers 

hadn’t seen me here being attacked, too far out of sight in the darkness to 

witness the crime.

My attacker kept yanking on my arm, making me see spots. I tried to 

free my arm from its place underneath my stomach, to release my purse, but 

it was trapped.

Then I abruptly stilled as I felt a sharp blade caress the side of my 


“Hand over your purse, bitch, or I’ll cut your fucking throat,” the low-

toned voice ordered, but I couldn’t free my arm. Fear spread through my 

whole being. 

The blade pressed farther into my neck, and I closed my eyes, 

expecting the worst. Suddenly, I heard a deep roar and my attacker was 

hauled off me, his strangled protest muting mid-wail as a crunching sound 

echoed around the towering walls of the alley. 

Frantically crawling forward to escape the noise, I scrambled to my 

knees and flipped over on to my ass… and immediately stopped breathing at 

the scene before me.

My attacker was pinned against the wall as a huge hooded man 

pounded his face and stomach with clenched fists. I couldn’t take my eyes 

away. The hooded man was relentless, each punch delivered with precision, 

his chest heaving in excitement and his feet rocking from side to side as he 

relished the outlet for his aggression. He was enjoying the fight… He was 

getting off on violence…

I recognized the signs from watching Alik rip apart his victims in the 


Crawling to the wall of the alley, I used the hard brick to stumble to 

my shaking feet and whipped my head to the hooded man.

I shuffled to my feet, my eyes never leaving the hooded man who now 

had his hands on the man’s jaw. 

As I realized what he was about to do, I lurched forward and shouted, 

“No!” But with a sharp jerk of his large hands, a loud snap ricocheted off the 

walls. My attacker’s lifeless body dropped to the ground at my feet—neck 


I stared at the unmoving body. Death didn’t usually faze me. I’d seen 

many dead bodies in my lifetime, more than most undertakers see in their 

whole careers, but the ease with which the hooded man killed filled me with 

fear and dread. It was obvious he had killed before; no first-timer was that 

smooth in the kill.

My eyes drifted up to the hooded killer, who was eerily still. He faced 

his victim, fists clenched at his sides, his packed chest rhythmically rising 

and falling under the sweatshirt that clung to his heavily muscled torso. 

He was close to me. So close that I could feel the heat radiating in 

waves from his body. My breathing was labored and I wanted to get the hell 

out of here. But I couldn’t move, caught in hypnotic rapture as I stared at the 

strange man who loomed menacingly before me. 

He took a step forward, my body bracing for attack, then he took 

another step closer. My back hit the wall as I drew back in fear, and the 

hooded man took one final step until he was almost flush against my chest.

My eyes were wide as I stared at his dark form and my breath came 

slow at the close proximity. The hooded man never moved, just stood still 

before me like a statue.

He was huge; wide and tall. Only the bottom half of his face was in 

view—his full lips, his stubbled, strong jaw… the bare top of his wide chest, 

demonic-looking tattoos covering his beautifully defined high pecs.

His head tilted up and more of his face hove into view. My heart 

began to pound harder as I waited to see his face, but the material from his 

hood hung low, shielding his eyes. 

I watched as the man’s teeth ran over his bottom lip. Mustering a 

modicum of bravery and clearly defying all of Alik’s rules, I cautiously 

edged forward and blurted, “You… you saved me.” 

My hands were shaking, my legs and voice, weak, and as dangerous 

as this man seemed, his body too tense and rigid, my fear waned. It seemed, 

as we stood here toe to toe, he wanted to study me, be closer to me.

The hooded man’s jaw tightened and his head tilted to the side, as if 

contemplating what I’d said. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, his aura 

animalistic, feral, yet it somehow… wasn’t. 

I couldn’t explain it.


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Amazon & USA Today Best Selling Author, Tillie Cole, is a Northern girl through and through. She 

originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle 

called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother -- a farmer's 

daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals 

and horses. 

Being a scary blend of Scottish and English, Tillie embraces both cultures; her English heritage 

through her love of HP sauce and freshly made Yorkshire Puddings, and her Scottish which is 

mostly demonstrated by her frighteningly foul-mouthed episodes of pure rage and her much loved 

dirty jokes.

Having been born and raised as a Teesside Smoggie, Tillie, at age nineteen, moved forty miles 

north to the 'Toon', Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, where she attended Newcastle University and 

graduated with a Bachelor of Arts honours degree in Religious Studies. She returned two years 

later to complete a Post-Graduate Certificate in Teaching High School Social Studies. Tillie, 

regards Newcastle to be a home from home and enjoyed the Newcastle Geordie way of life for 

seven 'proper mint' and 'lush' years.

One summers day, after finishing reading her thousandth book on her much loved and treasured 

Kindle, Tillie turned to her husband and declared, "D'you know, I have a great idea for a story. I 

could write a book." Several months later, after repeating the same tired line at the close of another 

completed story, she was scolded by her husband to shut up talking about writing a novel and "just 

bloody do it!" For the first time in eleven years, Tillie actually took his advice (he is still trying to get 

over the shock) and immediately set off on a crazy journey, delving deep into her fertile 


Tillie, ever since, has written from the heart. She combines her passion for anything camp and 

glittery with her love of humour and dark brooding men (most often muscled and tattooed – they’re 

her weakness!). She also has a serious side (believe it or not!) and loves to immerse herself in the 

complex study of World Religions, History and Cultural Studies and creates fantasy stories that 

enable her to thread serious issues and topics into her writing -- yep, there's more to this girl than 

profanity and sparkles!

After six years of teaching high school Social Studies and following her Professional Rugby Player 

husband around Europe, they have finally given up their nomadic way of life and settled in Calgary, 

Alberta where Tillie spends most of her days (and many a late night) lost in a writing euphoria or 

pursuing a dazzling career as a barrel-racing, tasselled-chap wearing, Stetson-sporting cowgirl... 




The giveaway is for $100 Amazon gift card, plus a signed paperback of Raze and swag. This is open internationally.
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